🗝️Detective Ryker Viltarin must uncover dark secrets before he loses not only his heart but also his life.🗝️
You're on your own, far from home
The wind is blowing in the top of the pines
A gloomy sky where the sun never shines
Deep...
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There was a twinge on the side of her neck. Then her body went heavy, and Eve felt like a marionette with all the strings cut. There was fright and shock, the iron will to stand, scream, and turn around. But she just couldn't. From one moment to the next, the colours blurred, and soon, Eve was surrounded by bottomless blackness.
An oppressive heaviness lay on her. The struggle out of unconsciousness felt like trying to crawl out from under a winter blanket. Everything, really everything about her was just... heavy. Breathing was difficult; her arms and legs felt as if they were wrapped in lead, and even thinking was simply more exhausting than usual. It was as if her thoughts didn't want to follow a line or kept gliding away from the needle's eye like a slippery thread instead of finally slipping through.
She tried nonetheless, again and again. Eve didn't know how long she had been surrounded by darkness. Any sense of time was gone—she might as well have been blindly reaching into the sand, trying to prevent it from slipping through her fingers. But eventually, she felt her fingertips again, her own mind emerging from the shroud, and streaks of colour crossed the blackness.
Where was up? Where was down?
Her senses tried hard to process what she was perceiving.
Her hair tickled her face. It smelled strange. It was soft everywhere. She... lay? Eve blinked several times intently. It seemed to her as if she had drunk far too much and swayed between the blackout and the last vestige of ridiculous sobriety. She might as well have tried to catch a slippery fish with wet hands.
Feeling slowly returned to her limbs, and it took a lot of effort. At first, she tried to move her fingers and toes for what felt like an eternity. Then, to lift an arm. And it took forever to straighten up halfway. The fabric of a duvet cover and a down comforter sighed under her hands.
'This isn't my bed,' was the first thing that crossed her mind. Then she strained to raise her gaze, squinting slightly, hoping it would sharpen her vision. Spots danced before her eyes, colours blurred... and appeared strangely distorted simultaneously.
There was a bedside table next to the large double bed and a glass of water. Eve forced her hands in the direction of the glass. Her mouth was as dry as dust, as if she hadn't drunk in days, and felt almost sticky in a disgusting way.
