eight

843 40 2
                                    

He went in.

The King was hit by a torrent of memories streaming past his eyes. Memories that could not have been, in any way, his.

Memories of glittering blue water surrounded by vibrant green forest. Of a boy with eyes like his, pure, unrelenting green with no pupils or irises.

Then a girl, a friend, at least he thought she was, and she was with the green-eyed boy and they were touching and kissing and then the boy said something and the girl's hands shot out and slammed into the boy's chest and the boy tumbled back and the King reached out in horror, but it wasn't the King, it was someone else, someone who was scared and sad and angry-

Get out! Get out of my head!

Black ZoneWhere stories live. Discover now