Story cover for Isabella by _theperkz
Isabella
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Ongoing, First published Dec 24, 2014
The girl was going to pass out. She was absolutely sure of it. So much blood, in her mouth tasting like rusted pennies and all over her body. She was attacked and left for dead in a alley. Through the light of the streetlamps two figures approached her. She tried to slide backward but her muscles refused to work. As if she had been dancing for hours and her muscles gave out. The figure drew closer and finally were close enough to identify. Two pale blondes one male one female. The male squatted beside and she looked into his face. Two eyes shone as red as rubies stared back at her. She screamed and kicked but he just stared.
"Now, are ya finished with the dramatics?" He spoke with  a twangy voice she hadn't heard in England.

Especially not in 1934.

 She slowly nodded and he smiled at her. "Now I'm Peter and over there's Char. We're gonna take real good care 'a you. Okay?"

 Once again she nodded. "Imma need some words Lil Bit." she cleared her throat,

"Okay. And my name is Isabella. Isabella Meriwether."
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My dream continued the one I'd been having for the past couple of nights. I ran, gasping for breath, through the familiar woods from a dark figure behind me. The faster I tried to run, the slower I seemed to go, until it was like I was running in place. I knew I needed to run. I was terrified of what the figure would do when he caught me. "Mara Leigh," a deep, smooth voice called. It was almost hypnotic. That was new. The figure had never spoke before now. I ran as fast as I could go, eyes searching the forest floor for a big stick or something that I could use to defend myself. "Mara Leigh!" the voice came again, this time more insistent. The forest slowly started to fade and I started to awake to someone shaking my shoulders. "Beau?" I mumbled, turning my head to the side. What's Beau doing in my room this time of night? Why is he shaking me? "Do not call me that name." My eyes flew open as I jumped at the voice from my dream. A face was right in front of mine, and just like the voice, it wasn't Beau. Before I could form a scream, a hand covered my mouth. I tried to bite it but I couldn't get my mouth to open. He's too strong. I started to use my whole body to try to get away, but he crawled on top of me, holding me down. I pulled the hidden knife out from under my pillow and slashed as hard as I could at him, but he just grabbed my wrist and squeezed it until the pain made me drop the knife. Then he grabbed both my hands in one of his and held them over my head. He held me down while I struggled. I grunted and moved and tried to kick and scream, but I only wore myself out. Exhausted, I stopped thrashing and let the tears flow freely down my cheeks. I didn't know what to do, so I just tried to prepare myself for whatever was coming.