Short Story Of The Hero's Nightmare-Personal Narrative

The blood freezes in her vains. Her whole body freezes in shock as she could feel the barrel of a pistol against the back of her head. Hearing at the same time that significant sing-song voice. She holds her breath, it feels like her heart stops beating. The disbelieve and shock in her mistress´ eyes and the fear on the face of her son are making it even worse.

While she regarded him so thoroughly he barely looked at her, except to make eye contact and give her a complete grimace so she would truly understand his mood. In the coming months he will wish he had taken more notice of her, had created more of a mental image with which he could remember her. Her mousy face, and dull brown hair. He honestly couldn't recall what color her eyes were. Deep down he knew it wasn't his fault, how could he have known this would be the last time he would see her?

He did not want to scare her away. His footfalls are audible in the silent night, reaching out to her, each step bringing them closer together. Their turmoil of emotions rivals a hurricane, fear, fury and rage but most of all love shines in her eyes. Pure adoration is reflected in his. One foot forward, step by step, the space between them ceased to exist. Prowling forward, pushing her backwards into the building and onto the elevator, he corners her. Unnerved, she stands still in disbelief, doubting that he is really here. Staring at his face, his chiseled jaw, the definition in his shoulders, it seemed that wherever he went he had been worked hard. A calloused hand comes up and brushes a strand of hair from her face.

There was a burning sensation going down her cheeks, they wouldn't stop. And no matter how hard she tried to hold it back she just ended up sobbing harder, taking large stuttering breaths every second. She could barely see, the tears clouded her eyes and she felt oh-so weak.

I watch in horror, of the act I’ve committed. My dear friend falls, as my blade pulls out of her body, blood gushes out like a waterfall, she collapses to the ground, her face express’ the overwhelming terror that had befallen her. She covers her wound in a failed attempted to stop the bleeding. the blood manages to surpass her hand and begins to travel downward. she lifts her hand, realizing it was hopeless to think she’d live, as she looked upon her shaking hand, that had turned the color of crimson.

On a cloudy night where the sky was jade blue and there was no stars in sight, there rode alone on Highway 55 Grant and Sherwell in there 1976 Chevrolet Corvette. It was near midnight when they were coming back from the theater in Columbus after they saw the new movie “Oliver Chase.” They were all alone where only a truck would pass every five or ten minutes. Then in the dead of silence Grant said, “Hey Sherwell, don’t you think that part when he blew that building was great, don’t ya.” ”Well, that was good, but the great part was when at the end when he saved the girl and got the gun from nowhere and shot that that guy, you know he was the evil dude. What’s his name again?” I replied to grant. “Oh you mean Dr.Steven,” Grant said. In flash

He swung, her head falling to the ground with a thud. Freezing her last moments in place. Her brilliant blue eyes showed knowledge and wisdom beyond her years. A true smile, and triumph sketched over her blooded face.

Tears formed in her eyes as she felt his words stab her heart and stomped on it as if she meant nothing. Anger and grieve passed through her body. She knew what her family had become ever since my mother did what she did. Her father became an abusive father and the vampire kingdom became superior resulting in a world fearing the vampires.

She never cried for so long. Her heart felt like a crumbled piece of paper, like it could never be fixed again. She would cry and cry like a never ending story. The pain of this situation would hurt her more than anything she thought. She thought that it was the worst thing that could happen to her. What she didn’t know was that it was only the beginning.

Twilight felt relief wash over her as she lied their battered and broken. Tears rolled down her eyes, mixing with the blood on her.

She flicked her dark, glossy hair over her shoulder. He recalled the feel of those long locks wrapped around his hands when they had gone to bed together, and at the time, he had found her extremely beautiful, but now, she looked like a hag to him. Her body might have been beautiful, but her heart was not.

It started with rain. It was pouring and came down worse than any storm. Thunder rumbled and shook the ground with every lightning strike. Soon the water was engulfing me and trapping me, drowning me in a matter of seconds. I gasped for a breath and the water was choking me. Then the water turned brown and bubbly and I saw my mother, and she was the one choking me now, a sadness in her eyes despite her actions. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, she said as she strangled me through the murky liquid.

Sophie jolted around, her heart beating erratically fast. She came face to face with a lady, her wrinkles were predominant against her flaky skin, her burning eyes, like those of a pitiless judge,

Those narrow eyes turned into pinnacles of hatred, once again. Indeed, Ava had become a woman completely void of a soul and filled with bounding jealousy and rage. So, wrought with the red fangs of rancor was she, that it would have haunted those who knew her, if only, they had understood the depths of her contempt.

The face she had, a look of desperation and quickly turning into sadness once I started to stab her repeatedly until she started to cough up blood; her cold, sticky, scarlet red blood coughing up from her mouth as she started to slowly fall down on the black carpet.