Atlantean Dreams

Atlantean Dreams

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Mon, Nov 3, 2014
As the bodies dropped behind me, only slowing me a step for each strike, I knew I was going the right way. Even as the last of them hit the dirty warehouse ground below, the only barrier was but a pane of glass: a flimsy barrier broken by a wiry frame and the berserk force that fueled it. The ground was unforgiving, hurting just as little as the window through which I’d left, so on I went until... Time seemed to slow as she appeared in my vision- beauty as I’d always known, hidden under pain and open wounds. Tied to a rotten post mid-river: she was finally within reach again! My senses dulled to anything else- I heard nothing but my heart pounding in my ears; saw nothing but her eyes as they fluttered open; felt naught but the ropes as I cut her free, and her lips against mine as relief washed over us... and her body going limp... The smoking gun dropped by the riverside, the shooter melting away before I saw, but I knew despite it. Her blood already soaked what rags I had left, and I rendered speechless... I could do nothing but hold her closer. Carissa’s fingers traced along my chest, with searing pain, like a hot brand. Looking back later, I was right to think I could never feel so low again as she whispered through pain, “To like is to... want... but to love is... to give... your every...thing...” Tears hot against my face- crying not from the loss, or even as the adrenalin made me ache, but from her throwing that back in my face... I clung to her into the night, until all heat had left us... When Gods work against us, all we have left are the Atlantean dreams.
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Everything was gone. I sobbed, my clothes ripped and I was bleeding, but it didn't matter. I had to get to her, to them. Had to find- Struggling to stand, I grasped my side, biting back the scream that wanted to escape. I looked down at my hands and red coated them, blurring together until I couldn't see anything anymore. I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing my panicked breathing to slow, until I felt in control of myself again. It had been so long, I thought as I turned my peeling and dry face to the sun, my fingers shaking as I struggled to make sense of them. For so long, I'd been a wolf, cursed. All that I was, or could've been had been reduced to nothing but an animal driven by instinct, bloodlust, thousands of lives met their ends at the edges of my razor sharp claws. I had no idea where I was, how much time had passed. My fingers touched something hard in the sand, and a jolt of information went through me as Queen Azalea's sword, gleamed as I pulled it free. My heart started to pound as sun glinted off of the blade, reflecting back at me. I nearly dropped the metal when I saw myself. I took a second look and saw white hair, caked with dirt, and yellow eyes, blue veins sparking in their depths. All at once, I remembered who I was. I remembered why I was here, how much time had passed. I am Azalea Marie Albescu, The Queen Alpha. A false queen sits on my throne, controls what's mine. I would have to make my way back to my pack, my family, and my home, if still there. I would rise again, as I had before, and reclaim what belongs to me. DISCLAIMER: AS WITH MANY OF MY STORIES, I DO IMPLICATE SITUATIONS OF SEXUAL ASSAULT/ABUSE. Not in any way do I intend to glamorize this behavior, I write about these delicate and painful situations because I myself relate to them and will always fight for survivors, including myself. Thank you for your understanding and if you are in any way uncomfortable reading these stories, I encourage you to look elsewhere.

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