The Night - Original Writing

Miro was silenced by an abrupt slap, cracking his head against the wall behind him.

“You fucking bitch!” I screamed. She laughed cutely before pulling the knife from my stomach. She pushed her finger into the wound and bit her lip softly. The corners of my vision started to fade to

“You were a virgin. There was a Holy exodus of blood.” The pressure lessens, not enough for me to see anything past him, or the

Ebon tossed and turned in his room bed that night. After a playing his flute for a little while, he, Ilene, and Grace went to eat downstairs. The food was delicious. Grace then said she had to get home. Ebon wondered why, but decided it best not to ask her. He and Ilene went back up to their rooms and went to bed.

I hung my head and looked at my feet. "Ugh you bastard, once I get out of here I am leaving you." I

“Well more pain for you than,” he said as he stabbed me with a dagger.

And it sure looked like it. He rolls over, collapsing on the ground clutching his precious 'jewels.' I roll my eyes, pick up my knife, and slit his throat. Sticky blood covers my hand. I take his shirt and wipe it off the blood, I hate the smell. Now, how to get into that room? I shrug and do the most simple thing possible.

I stood up awkwardly, like a condemned detainee consenting to my impending demise. The others seemed to accept their lot as well and filed into a neat dress-right-dress line behind the man.

my eyes rolled. "yeah, no shit. you could be a little quieter before entering my room. thanks."

     "Then why don't you start giving me answers!" I shouted as I bolted up and faced him. He was staring at me with the calmest expression and eyes of raging fire. I shrunk down some under the intimidation of his glare.

He walked over to him, and proceeded to rip his heart out then said, “Just to make sure that he doesn’t come back to pester us again.”

He showed no reaction as the aroma and cracking of frying bacon was coming from the kitchen. Instead, he continued to gaze at his reflection on windows panes over the fire place. He was a curious boy, a day dreamer with his head stuck in the clouds.

“Of course, Lady Bae.” Hweya bows respectfully at her lady, before briskly stomping down the wooden steps and forwarding orders to other servants, butlers, guards and assistants in the manor.

I went down to the living room, and neither David or Charlie were there. I walked into the kitchen and nothing. I stood there listening to see if I could hear them. I heard nothing but silence. I called out to them.

Nothing but darkness laid ahead as I slid rapidly down a massive tunnel. My grasp tightened around the crystal skull and landed on a rocky turf. Then, I brushed the dust off my soiled dress, and waded through the murky water. Between the humidity of the cave and failure to hold the hems of the dress up, I decided to toss it and keep walking in a slip, relieved to breathe.