I awoke from a nightmare late at night when I heard the soft, syrupy cry of a violin coming from the library. The mellow melodic whine echoed through the walls. The deep haunting bellow of the strings pulled at your heart. I walked through the dark and empty halls, and gazed in the library. Thorn was immersed in the melody he was playing. Deep, foreboding and chilling, his long, pale, scarred fingers were graceful, nimble against the strings.
Each note was deliberate, planned, calculated to move like a graceful dance through time. It induced peace and calm. Then, there was silence, followed by a long played out sharp, shallow cry. A deeper note followed, it’s bellow resounded through the walls.
The fire bathed his wounded face in orange. His long hair was thrown over his shoulder as the violin rested against his throat. I leaned against the wall in the hallway and listened to his heart play out on the strings. It lulled me into a redeeming sleep that night.
Thorn and Violin art by Wattpad Member Chris Ganz
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Night is Falling: Confessions of the Tattooed Witch
ParanormalAs Darva begins to reveal herself to her new husband, Thorn, the town turns against her and hunt her for her witchcraft. The couple flees, but are caught and Darva is forced to face the torture, and humiliation of a hired mercenary- who is determine...
