Unnamed Thing - ProloguePrologueAbandonment His body ached like hell. He knew they’d beaten him to subdue him, but how badly? He couldn’t feel his wings. He was blindfolded with some ungodly fabric that was itchy and smelled of motor oil. He thrashed on the cold surface of the table and felt three of them throw their weight on him. “Tranquilize him,” a voice said from across the room. He uttered a low, guttural snarl and whipped his head around, sinking his fangs into the warm flesh of the arm behind him, tasting blood and biting down harder as the man screamed, trying to wrench him off. He set his teeth in and let his venom seep i
GoneWhere did all the time goOur pasts so different, but their scars the sameI see my own reflection when I look you in the eye. I remember the days when we’d be aloneWe never had to speak, we knew the other’s thoughtsThose days are gone now – or so you claimBut I refuse to give up hope. Now you’re far away and leave meLonging for your touch againThat protective embrace, that tentative kissThat I might have shunned at firstAnd here I lie, alone tonightCursing myself for my stubborn blindnessAnd wishing you were here with meI miss your warmth, the way you’d laugh When I’d play hard to get
Strike Hour: Chapter 2 Chapter 2 The Boy He woke to pain. Qireis curtile, he thought miserably. What a fucking surprise. He wished he had an alarm clock, like he’d seen on the few occasions he’d been above ground. He wished he could just roll over, smack the cause of his wakefulness and shut it up, so he could numb himself in sleep again. But no. He lifted his head, a tremendous effort for his state, wincing at the pain that shot down his spine. “Still alive,” a voice said somewhere above
Strike Hour: Chapter 1 Chapter 1 Sarah Eighty-one….eighty-two….eighty-three…eighty-four…She fell back to the floor, uncrossing her arms from her chest, breathing hard, staring at the cracks in the ceiling as she caught her breath after her second set of crunches. Her skin was slightly glossy with a thin sheen of sweat; the workout itself wasn’t particularly intense for her, but the humid heat of the summer night was keeping her from cooling off. Locked up in this damned bedroom, she had nothing else to do. She could get out, if she wanted; she’d rigged the lock a long time ago so that she could simply slip a bobby pin
Sta.sh
