⚠️Please be advised for the first part of this chapter. As I've stated before in Chapter 22, this is a dark book and as many of you know deals with hard topics and descriptions. This has very specific descriptions of gore and bodily trauma involving forceful body disfigurement by carving letters into skin. This will include emotional, physical, and mental trauma of the main character inflicted by this story's antagonist.‼️
🔥I don't write these parts at random, every chapter and every topic is important to this story. I don't know personally this type of trauma, but I know it's mental effects, the pain, the anguish, and lingering behavior that clings to the victim/survivor. This part of Nyx's arc will not be sugarcoated, thank you all for your understanding.⚠️
Please read responsibly, I will have the warning signs placed at the begging and end of the triggering warning part of this chapter.
And I can promise you all, Nyx will have justice.
One way or another. ⚠️
💀I would also recommend tissues, emergency chocolate, and a warm blanket of some sort. 🫠
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In a world that seeks to diminish us, the greatest act of rebellion is to stand tall and claim our power.
-Hagir Elsheikh
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This world of mist I reside in, floating weightless as I if I were submerged in a lake, is a haze of peace. Of serenity and silence. There is no fear, no pain nor noise that would destroy this paradise of forced rest. I am happy here, carefree as a bird flying high up in silvery gray clouds, but a lingering thought nags within my mind.
What if the king orders me awake?
A thought that once conjured creates more for me to worry about, but once they start to emerge within me, they disappear, as if blown away like leaves on a wild wind. A wind that I start to feel, the abrupt gusts knocking me and fro until I fall from my floating perch, down onto soft green grass in a midnight wood.
Startled, I look around at this quiet atmosphere, the towering elms, pines, and birch trees all surrounding this clearing of emerald green. Clearing that holds calm grazing deer and a collection of mallards and swans floating in a still pond beneath a shining, swollen silver moon. The faint sound of trickling can be heard, along with the quacking of ducks, the swaying of branches, and the nighttime's singing of birds.
But something overshadows this vision, a thick sticky stench of tree rot and an iron tanginess that lies heavy on my tongue. Sniffing once I feel it grow stronger and stronger, until the smell permeates every breath I take. The animals run and fly away, the scent of blood chasing them off as something moves within the tree line on the side of the clearing before me.
A shadowy figure, that with each step, causes the bloody stench to grow stronger. Soon enough, the figure steps into the moon's silvery rays, revealing to me a familiar face, a familiar body, a familiar sheer white dress coated in red and black blood.
"Breannin," I utter, voice merely a whisper as the wind blows once more, cleansing the almond skin woman, fluttering her earth brown hair, removing every speck and drop of viscous blood from her garment. Her eyes close as she welcomes the wind, arms extended outward with upturned palms. Fingertips seemingly dipped in midnight ink, with spiderweb veins of the same dark hue traveling all the way up to her elbows. A single heartbeat passes, then another and another before her eyes open, revealing them to be a pair that would put glimmering priceless emeralds to shame.
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Forest of Lies
FantasyA thousand years past, the world was run by humankind. But it changed, when countries became embroiled in a war that gave the werewolves the opportunity, to recreate the earth in their own image. Now humans are the lowest on the food chain, little m...
