Author's Note:
For those of you that have read my other books, this is a different story, meaning slightly different rules when it comes to supernatural abilities. Everything will be explained.Thank you! :)
Prologue (Declan's POV)
In my world, there is a difference between dead and gone. One of them causes sadness, the other grief. To demons, dead usually means it's temporary. They'll heal and revive themselves if they aren't killed properly. Gone is when the person won't come back, they're gone forever, permanently. Of course, these definitions are only valid when discussing demons, vampires, or other supposedly immortal creatures.
Death is common in our dimension, Agartha. There are plenty of crimes, more and more as you get further away from the capital, Death Valley. That's what happens when demons are in charge, violence tends to break out. The victims are usually angels because of their deceiving manner. They aren't always as sweet and peaceful as they appeared to be.
In my early memories there's always been this distinct face that stands out to me. It's a girls face. Her nose is perfectly arched and her bright blue eyes contrast to her pitch black hair. She was young, about the same age that I was at the time. She looked about ten years old. I didn't find her stunningly beautiful, but she was pretty.
When I saw her I was with my father, he's one of the five leaders of the dimension. We were walking out the front door of our castle, about to go out to eat. He was in a good mood, unlike how he usually was, when the doors burst open from the prison on the other side of the roundabout.
Two guards were dragging the struggling girl by her black hair. She looked about my age, ten years old. For a brief moment she ceased trying to get away, but only when her blue eyes pointed towards my father and I. First, she looked at me, her face softening into a kind one. Then, they lingered to my father and her gaze turned hard and cold. She began to kick and scream again, this time shouting, "I hate you, Patrick! I want my mom back!" The sound of her high pitched yelling was silenced when she was thrown into a car by the guards and driven away.
She knew my father's name, which wasn't what surprised me. What befuddled me was how she said she hated him in such a strong and harsh tone. The girl was my age and she could loath someone that much. I didn't even think I was capable of hating anything at that young of an age.
"What was she talking about?" I ask my father as I look up at him and tug on his sleeve. I was next in line to become the leader of my father's faction of the dimension and I knew so little about everything. He had said before that I would one day be educated on all the political things involved.
He sighed, his expression showing many emotions. There was anger, sadness, and regret all mixed together. "It's nothing," he plainly said, suddenly putting on a straight face.
Our limousine arrived and the servant opened the door for us. We climbed in and the door was closed behind us. He sat to my left, his features morphed into a thinking face. He looked bothered.
I couldn't help but to stare at the strange burn mark on the side of his forehead. He always had it ever since I could remember. Nobody had told me what exactly it was, but it definitely wasn't an ordinary burn. My mother would just tell me it was caused by an accident involving fire. That didn't make sense though because his face would have repaired using his demonic healing abilities. Eventually I stopped asking about it because nobody seemed to know or want to give me an answer. The mark was never mentioned, but it was still very noticeable.
As my father sat beside me with a bothered face, I couldn't help but to find it strange because nothing usually disturbed him that much. There was something about that girl that was important to him. Since she came out of a prison, that meant she was a criminal in some way.
My mind pondered on the thought of why my father would keep his mind on the subject for so long. He would always tell me to disregard the peasants because they're below us. I wanted to know who that girl was, but I knew better than to ask a second time.
Author's Note:
I know it's short, sorry! It's only the prologue though.The cover is what Patrick's scar looks like, except in black and white.
YOU ARE READING
Casting Shadows
Mystery / ThrillerBe carful who you trust. Even those who you hold dearest can turn their backs on you. Sometimes who you overshadow can use that to their own advantage. While your back is turned, they can rise above you. Just as you notice their shadow creeping i...