It's fate that they found each other. Indigos are naturally drawn to one another through the threads of destiny. And for Hemlock Godfree, that's exactly what he is... an Indigo. Even if he doesn't know it yet. As a part time ghost hunter and full ti...
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"When the angels come screaming and you are bleeding till your fingers grow cold, only then will you be able to be with me." A hauntingly irresistible voice lured into Hemlock's ears. He saw nothing, only blackness. But his vision was coming back to him, slowly but surely. He looked around him and was able to make out certain shadows.
He was surrounded by statues of crying angels, headstones, and mausoleums, except for one. This figure was alive. It moved. Hemlock rubbed his eyes and focused on the being. Standing before him, dressed in black from head to toe except for a crimson peacoat, was Nox. His silver hair waved in the wind and his black eyes pierced into Hemlock's. Nox curled his lip and smiled. Hemlock looked around and realized he was in a cemetery, a beautiful and ancient graveyard. The leaves on the trees were golden and russet wafting to and fro in the autumn breeze. Even though Hemlock knew Nox, he felt hesitant, almost like meeting him for the first time. Nox snickered and held out his rough, scarred hand.
"Follow me, I need to show you something." Nox's voice echoed against the headstones. Hemlock grimaced and placed his fingers into Nox's, awkwardly. He had to slouch slightly in order to grasp Nox's hand properly.
"Can't I just follow in your footsteps?" asked Hemlock, staring at their entwined hands.
"No. This may look like earth, but it's not. If you get distracted, you'll be lost forever. Whatever you do, do not read the headstones." Nox warned, his voice oozing with fierce annoyance.
Hemlock grumbled but followed, but deep down, it felt nice to have Nox's hand around his; he actually felt safe for the first time in a while. As they walked on the small dirt road that wound through the cemetery, Hemlock looked down at his feet crunching the sunset colored leaves. The air was crisp with frost, making his breath come out in clouds. Hemlock glanced to his right at an intricately carved tomb, only to remember Nox's request. He averted his eyes but caught what looked like his own name etched onto the marble headstone. Nox's hand tightened, almost painfully.
"Watch it, Godfree." He growled, glancing over his shoulder. Hemlock stared straight ahead, trying to fight the urge to look at the beautiful graves around him. He could have sworn he saw Ange's, Jacoby's, and even Rhiannon's names on the stones from his peripheral vision. He grit his molars until he heard the sound of teeth against teeth, almost like nails against chalkboard.
The leaves crunched under Hemlock's foot like bugs, there was no way he could walk through the cemetery quietly, but he had the feeling that he needed to be. He looked enviously at Nox's silent footfall, his dark red coat making him blend in with the surroundings. Hemlock shivered, zipping his hoodie up to his chin. As they kept walking, he noticed that Nox's grip was getting less and less on his fingers. When he finally let go, Hemlock drew his hand back in surprise... his fingers were slightly blue and icy to the touch. He rear-ended Nox, who had suddenly stopped in his tracks at the end of the gravel road.
