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Unveiled (MLL)

With each mile that he passed with his car his anger turned from fury to a blinding fire to a pitch black pit of chaos. And yet the pitch black chaos was too small a word as further ahead he went, until there he stood in front of ‘Manerium Somniorum’ The manor of dreams. Standing at the gates his anger dissipated to a form of fear and melancholy. Christian knew it like he knew the back of his hand that these emotions were his. Whatever he was feeling was an aftermath of what the manor was listening in on. The walls were screaming the story that unfolded between their bricks as the windows tried to leap open, over powered by the yearning need for some kind of a void. An escape from what unfolded. The gate of the manor seemed barred from reality. Acutely preoccupied by the nightmare. Participating and escaping every word the manor screamed. Time did not exist beyond these gates. No what was left behind was simply the shadow of broken hearts. With each second that passed Christian watched a darkness descend upon the manor as thick mists of clouds and shadows formed. Untouched was the reality outside the gate but inside Manerium Somniorum dreamed. Dreamed of a heartbroken man. Echoed of an unquenchable thirst. Begged for her return. Pulling every reality into it in its desperation, whispering and moaning Christian or anyone that dared to watch to enter. Enter their dream. Dream their love. And bathe in their despair as a symphony lulled Christian into a heavy sleep. With each ticking minute the manor seemed to draw further and further away, without even realizing his eyes had closed and his body was mesmerized by her. By them. It played out again like a song, starting with a verse. A look. A pair of eyes. A shadow. As translucent darkness shone brightly around a man and interlaced with his soul. And there she stood. It was her form and her face and yet her eyes betrayed who she was. A conscious thought metaphored into her existence, standing right there under the soft glow of his lantern. Christian was the prince and the prince was chaos as their fell in love for the first time. As their skin felt the fleeting graze of her smile and their ears heard the soft whisper of her gown tease the ground. There all three souls stood as one falling in love with the same form and yet a different woman. "We were never meant for tomorrow ..." She said with a trembling voice as her hand reached out for his, so close and yet much like their fates all there was between them were dreams.

taipan · Urban
Zu wenig Bewertungen
74 Chs

Chapter 21

They had spent the time setting up the tents, making smores and drinking. They sang a few camping songs before one by one they began to call it a night until only Arsenio and Athena were left.

"I guess it's just the two of us… so much for them looking for the haunted chateau…"

"We could still go… I mean there is about an hour or so left for it to be four…"

"Seems like as good an idea as any."

Arsenio and Athena grabbed a torch to look for the mysterious chateau. She found its existence hard to believe for the trees around the lake were scarce. 

"Do you know what this haunted chateau looks like, Arsenio?"

"If I am being honest I don't think it exists for the descriptions are so vivid that a structure that old seems hard to have survived so long."

"Then why are you coming with me?"

"The company was very appealing and it seemed like a nice adventure."

"I wonder if that works on your women…"

"I don't know… is it working?"

"That remains to be decided." Athena smirked.

"So, a Blake. How does a Spanish guy have Blake for a surname?"

"Well my mother, Camilla was Spanish. And before you ask no Loren, Wyatt and I are half-brothers. Loren's mom is British, Wyatt's Greek and well I am the Spanish guy but trust me nothing about Wyatt is Greek. He was brought up like a proper Brit. Him being the crown prince and what not… Sorry did I talk too much?"

"You actually look so adorable when you just talked about your family. But, boy your dad must be a stud."

"Who says even says that? Man you have no brain to mouth filter do you?"

"Nope. None what so ever."

"Well, as much as it pains me. Yes, one could refer to my dad as a stud. He is currently on wife number four it seems. Another Greek it seems. And if you ask me it's completely inappropriate. I am that woman is young enough to be my little sister!"

"Lol… What's Mr. Blake like?"

"The pretty boy goes after my dad. But, in my opinion he is worse. At least my dad married a few of his women, this one refuses to settle. But, then again he is such a great person! Like he is the kind of guy you could talk to hours and hours with. Especially if you like humanitarian literature, like the Shakespeare guy and Wuthering Heights. Sadly, no one knows that about him because they all think he is this hot dude who does not know shit about literature. I think he secretly wants to become a writer. I have seen him scribble things in that little book of his. Seems like something he would do. I hope I get to read it someday.

And don't even get me started on pranks! It's like the only way he expresses his feelings for people. You know he loves you if he annoys the living daylights out of you. When I was younger he would come to my room carry a basket full of vegetables and say stand I want to do target practice and then he would throw them right across the room at me. Thank god that stopped! I know it sounds cruel or mean but it literally is not. Also, just on the off chance if you had to pick, potatoes hurt the least."

"In the off chance someone tries to beat me up with vegetables. I will… do you hear that?"

It was like a whisper so soft that it almost passed off as a breeze of wind. 

"Nagis…"

Mine.

Athena stopped still, her nostrils flared, taking the smell of charred skin. The lick of fire blackening the flesh. The rot of death. And yet it was like a living force, so strong and sinister seducing her into coming to her.

"Nagis" 

It said again.

The voice malevolent voice belonged to a woman. 

An unbidden image of sharp white teeth pressing into a cherry red lower lip conjured itself in front of her eyes. It pressed harder until a drop of blood began to form on its contour and slid down the slope of her lips. The image was so sensual at its core that it drew out a helpless reaction.

"Sijack" Athena said. 

Her own voice sounded like it was in a trance. Her eyes hazed into a cloudy mystery as her feet slowly moved in the opposite direction. 

Arsenio could not hear it. He could not hear what she was saying, but he was scared of what he saw. He scared of the growing flame that seemed to surround her body. The licks of blue did not harm her; they simply teased her with its heat. He was scared of the icy chill that ran through his veins as he watched her lips move. 

He moved closer to her, trying to see what she saw. Hear what she was hearing. But to no veil. He followed her as she moved, each step matched.

"Nagis"

"Sijack"

And then came the force that Arsenio felt. Something about it was not right. It felt rotten like she was being invited to her death. So sullen and ominous was it presence that Arsenio reached out to hold her hand, in an attempt to stop Athena.

But, the flames knew better than to allow that. They left her body and surrounded his, they were no longer harmless. Sending a poison through his mind, they paralyzed him. He could not speak or move. He could simply watch Athena walk to the chateau