𝙰 𝚌𝚑𝚞𝚟𝚊 𝚌𝚊𝚒́𝚊 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚎, 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘 𝚊𝚜 𝚛𝚞𝚊𝚜 𝚍𝚎 𝙻𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚜 𝚎𝚖 𝚞𝚖 𝚛𝚒𝚘 𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚣𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚘. 𝚆𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚢, 𝚌𝚘𝚖 𝚜𝚎𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚊𝚌𝚘 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚑𝚘 𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚌𝚊𝚍𝚘, 𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚊 𝚊𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚊𝚍𝚊, 𝚘𝚜 𝚙𝚎́𝚜 𝚋𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚘 𝚗𝚘 𝚊𝚜𝚏𝚊𝚕𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚘𝚕𝚑𝚊𝚍𝚘. 𝙾 𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚘 𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚊 𝚜𝚎𝚞 𝚛𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚘, 𝚕𝚎𝚟𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚘 𝚘 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛𝚘 𝚍𝚎 𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚊 𝚞́𝚖𝚒𝚍𝚊 𝚎 𝚘 𝚋𝚊𝚛𝚞𝚕𝚑𝚘 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎 𝚍𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚟𝚘̃𝚎𝚜.
𝙳𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎, 𝚞𝚖 𝚐𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚘, 𝚚𝚞𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚞𝚖 𝚐𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚍𝚘, 𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚘𝚞 𝚘 𝚋𝚊𝚛𝚞𝚕𝚑𝚘 𝚍𝚊 𝚌𝚑𝚞𝚟𝚊. 𝚆𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚢 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞, 𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚜𝚊. 𝙴𝚛𝚊 𝚞𝚖 𝚐𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚎 𝚖𝚞𝚕𝚑𝚎𝚛, 𝚖𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚜 𝚞𝚖 𝚓𝚘𝚐𝚘 𝚍𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚒𝚊𝚗𝚌̧𝚊𝚜, 𝚞𝚖𝚊 𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚒𝚛𝚊 𝚍𝚎 𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛. 𝙴𝚕𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚞𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘, 𝚖𝚊𝚜 𝚘 𝚐𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚞 𝚗𝚘𝚟𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎, 𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚛𝚘́𝚡𝚒𝚖𝚘 𝚊𝚐𝚘𝚛𝚊, 𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚊 𝚟𝚎𝚣, 𝚊𝚕𝚐𝚘 𝚏𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚊𝚛 𝚙𝚒𝚌𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚎𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚌̧𝚊̃𝚘. 𝙴𝚛𝚊 𝚊 𝚟𝚘𝚣 𝚍𝚎 𝙱𝚎𝚕𝚊, 𝚜𝚞𝚊 𝚒𝚛𝚖𝚊̃, 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚊𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚊 𝚑𝚊́ 𝚍𝚘𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚜.
𝚆𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚢 𝚜𝚎 𝚟𝚒𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚘, 𝚘𝚜 𝚙𝚎́𝚜 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚕𝚒𝚣𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘 𝚗𝚘 𝚊𝚜𝚏𝚊𝚕𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚘𝚕𝚑𝚊𝚍𝚘. 𝙴𝚕𝚊 𝚗𝚊̃𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚎𝚐𝚞𝚒𝚊 𝚊𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚛, 𝚖𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚟𝚘𝚣 𝚎𝚛𝚊 𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚏𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚒́𝚟𝚎𝚕. 𝙴𝚕𝚊 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚐𝚘𝚞 𝚊̀ 𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊 𝚍𝚊 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚊 𝚍𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚎 𝚘𝚜 𝚐𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚘𝚜 𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚑𝚊𝚖, 𝚞𝚖𝚊 𝚟𝚎𝚕𝚑𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚊̃𝚘 𝚍𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚓𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚜 𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚘𝚜, 𝚌𝚘𝚖 𝚓𝚊𝚗𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚜 𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚊𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚘 𝚘𝚕𝚑𝚘𝚜 𝚟𝚊𝚣𝚒𝚘𝚜. 𝙰 𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊 𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚟𝚊 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚊𝚍𝚊, 𝚖𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚟𝚘𝚣 𝚍𝚎 𝙱𝚎𝚕𝚊 𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚊𝚟𝚊 𝚕𝚊́ 𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘, 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚊 𝚍𝚎 𝚙𝚊̂𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚘.
𝚂𝚎𝚖 𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚛, 𝚆𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚢 𝚌𝚑𝚞𝚝𝚘𝚞 𝚊 𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚘𝚍𝚊 𝚜𝚞𝚊 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚌̧𝚊. 𝙰 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚒𝚛𝚊 𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚞 𝚎 𝚊 𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊 𝚌𝚎𝚍𝚎𝚞, 𝚊𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚘 𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚑𝚘 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊 𝚞𝚖 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚛 𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚘 𝚎 𝚞́𝚖𝚒𝚍𝚘. 𝙾 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛𝚘 𝚍𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚏𝚘 𝚎 𝚞𝚖 𝚘𝚍𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚊́𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚘 𝚗𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎 𝚊 𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚊𝚖.
𝙳𝚘𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚜, 𝚊𝚕𝚝𝚘𝚜 𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚜, 𝚜𝚎 𝚟𝚒𝚛𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚖, 𝚊𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚊𝚜 𝚎𝚖 𝚜𝚞𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚊̃𝚘𝚜 𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚕𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘 𝚊̀ 𝚕𝚞𝚣 𝚏𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚊 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚟𝚊 𝚙𝚎𝚕𝚊 𝚓𝚊𝚗𝚎𝚕𝚊. 𝙴𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚟𝚊𝚖 𝚊𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘 𝙱𝚎𝚕𝚊, 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚕𝚞𝚝𝚊𝚟𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚘𝚍𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚊𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚌̧𝚊𝚜. 𝚆𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚕𝚘𝚞 𝚙𝚘𝚛 𝚞𝚖 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎, 𝚘 𝚖𝚎𝚍𝚘 𝚊 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘.
𝙴𝚗𝚝𝚊̃𝚘, 𝙱𝚎𝚕𝚊 𝚐𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚘𝚞: "𝚆𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚢, 𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚎!"
𝙰 𝚛𝚞𝚒𝚟𝚊 𝚜𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚌̧𝚘𝚞 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎, 𝚜𝚎𝚞𝚜 𝚘𝚕𝚑𝚘𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚡𝚘𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚜 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚜. 𝙴𝚕𝚊 𝚗𝚊̃𝚘 𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚑𝚊 𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚘 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊 𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚊𝚛, 𝚊𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚛. 𝙴𝚕𝚊 𝚙𝚎𝚐𝚘𝚞 𝚞𝚖𝚊 𝚙𝚎𝚍𝚛𝚊 𝚍𝚘 𝚌𝚑𝚊̃𝚘 𝚎 𝚊 𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚖 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚌̧𝚊, 𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘 𝚊 𝚕𝚊̂𝚖𝚙𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚒𝚕𝚞𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚟𝚊 𝚘 𝚌𝚘̂𝚖𝚘𝚍𝚘. 𝙰 𝚕𝚞𝚣 𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚙𝚊𝚐𝚘𝚞, 𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚐𝚞𝚕𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘 𝚊 𝚜𝚊𝚕𝚊 𝚗𝚊 𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚊̃𝚘 𝚝𝚘𝚝𝚊𝚕.
𝙽𝚘 𝚜𝚒𝚕𝚎̂𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚘 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚜𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚐𝚞𝚒𝚞, 𝚆𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚢 𝚘𝚞𝚟𝚒𝚞 𝚘𝚜 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚜 𝚜𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘, 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚏𝚞𝚜𝚘𝚜. 𝙴𝚕𝚊 𝚊𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚒𝚝𝚘𝚞 𝚊 𝚘𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊 𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚡𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚛, 𝚜𝚎𝚞𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚍𝚘𝚜 𝚊𝚐𝚞𝚌̧𝚊𝚍𝚘𝚜 𝚙𝚎𝚕𝚊 𝚊𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚊. 𝙴𝚕𝚊 𝚙𝚘𝚍𝚒𝚊 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚛 𝚊 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚊𝚌̧𝚊̃𝚘 𝚍𝚘𝚜 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚜, 𝚘 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛𝚘 𝚍𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚘𝚛 𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚍𝚘.
𝙳𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎, 𝚞𝚖 𝚍𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚜𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚌̧𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚘𝚋𝚛𝚎 𝚎𝚕𝚊. 𝚆𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚢 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚞 𝚘 𝚊𝚝𝚊𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚛 𝚞𝚖 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚣, 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚘 𝚊 𝚙𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚊 𝚍𝚊 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚊 𝚛𝚊𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚛 𝚜𝚎𝚞 𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚌̧𝚘. 𝙴𝚕𝚊 𝚐𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚘𝚞, 𝚊 𝚍𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚐𝚞𝚍𝚊 𝚊 𝚏𝚊𝚣𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚘 𝚜𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚌𝚎𝚛.
𝙼𝚊𝚜 𝚆𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚢 𝚗𝚊̃𝚘 𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚑𝚊 𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚘 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊 𝚜𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚘𝚌𝚞𝚙𝚊𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚖 𝚘 𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚘. 𝙴𝚕𝚊 𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚑𝚊 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚕𝚟𝚊𝚛 𝙱𝚎𝚕𝚊. 𝙴𝚕𝚊 𝚜𝚎 𝚎𝚜𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚟𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚐𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚘 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚖, 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚟𝚊 𝚊𝚕𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚌̧𝚊́-𝚕𝚊, 𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚎𝚞 𝚎𝚖 𝚍𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚌̧𝚊̃𝚘 𝚊̀ 𝚜𝚞𝚊 𝚒𝚛𝚖𝚊̃, 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚊 𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚟𝚊 𝚊𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚊.
𝙰 𝚕𝚞𝚝𝚊 𝚎𝚛𝚊 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚞𝚊𝚕, 𝚖𝚊𝚜 𝚆𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚢 𝚗𝚊̃𝚘 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚊. 𝙴𝚕𝚊 𝚕𝚞𝚝𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚘𝚍𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚊𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚌̧𝚊𝚜, 𝚞𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘 𝚝𝚞𝚍𝚘 𝚘 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚑𝚊 𝚊̀ 𝚖𝚊̃𝚘 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊 𝚜𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚏𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛: 𝚙𝚎𝚍𝚛𝚊𝚜, 𝚙𝚎𝚍𝚊𝚌̧𝚘𝚜 𝚍𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚒𝚛𝚊, 𝚊𝚝𝚎́ 𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚖𝚘 𝚜𝚞𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚛𝚘́𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚊̃𝚘𝚜.
𝙰 𝚌𝚑𝚞𝚟𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚞𝚊𝚟𝚊 𝚊 𝚌𝚊𝚒𝚛 𝚕𝚊́ 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚊, 𝚎𝚗𝚚𝚞𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘 𝚍𝚊 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚊 𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚊, 𝚊 𝚋𝚊𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚑𝚊 𝚜𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚘𝚕𝚊𝚟𝚊. 𝚆𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚢 𝚜𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚊 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚑𝚊 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚊𝚌𝚊𝚋𝚊𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚖 𝚊𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚕𝚘, 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚑𝚊 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚛𝚊𝚛 𝙱𝚎𝚕𝚊 𝚍𝚊𝚕𝚒, 𝚎 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚑𝚊 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚏𝚊𝚣𝚎̂-𝚕𝚘 𝚛𝚊́𝚙𝚒𝚍𝚘.
VOCÊ ESTÁ LENDO
Entre a Luz e a Escuridão
FanfictionWendy estava andando a noite, sozinha sem ninguém, quando derrepente escuta uns gritos de longe, e percebe que é alguém que não via a muito tempo, quem será que é? Será que ela conseguirá encontrar os gritos misteriosos? Leia pra descobrir
