Echos Of Octavia
- LECTURES 285
- Votes 0
- Chapitres 2
Contenu pour adultesEn cours d'écriture33m
Dernière publication mer., juil. 10, 2024
****TRIGGER WARNING: DESCRIPTIONS OF/WITH FIGHTING, YELLING, CURSE WORDS, AND BLOOD****
After a moment of silence The king sat down ''You Warlock, will be thrown into prison.'' The warlock looked up at him with fear ''What?'' ''Warlocks were banned from Muridian kingdoms. Rook, Winds Capital, Mura and Igneous are Muridian Kingdoms. You will be thrown into the prison for 4 counts of the Warlock law.''
The Warlock shook his head ''No I've come to far for Warlocks to do this to me.'' ''Get him.'' He looked around him at the guards that began to run at him, and ran for the door sliding on his knees threw two guards. A voice spoke ''The Journal!'' The warlock turned his head and stood.
He moved his cape and put his hand in a grey silk bag. He had a little bit of what looked like sand and threw it at his feet. He was able to control the air at his feet that looked like a cloud as he flouted over guards towards the King.
****TRIGGER WARNING: DESCRIPTIONS OF/WITH FIGHTING, YELLING, CURSE WORDS, AND BLOOD****
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Re-posting. The common story is that finding a mate is supposed to make the wolf stronger. For an alpha, finding his mate, blessed by the moon goddess, strengthens the pack. But there can be such darkness hidden in that dynamic. Even those of cruel hearts can seek the power of a mate. And the damage they cause might not ever be healed. ***** Prologue: Drip. Drip. Drip. The rhythm or the water would have been soothing if it hadn't been so cruel. Drip. As it was, it was nothing more than a taunting form of torture. Drip. Ears could hear the soft thudding of raindrops at the end of the hall as a door was pulled open in squeaking protests and then shut with a harsh metallic clang. How the rain made its way into the depths of the cement room, it didn't matter. It was there. Drip. Step. Drip. Step. The footsteps were strong and full of purpose. Though just as unwanted as the drops of water that fell too far out of reach. Unable to quench the dehydrated desperation chained to the wall. Drip. Step. Drip. Step. Only one set of footsteps. There was no question of the destination or purpose that carried them down the hall. Not that it was a surprise. It was always the same. First the pain, then the visit. The cell door opened to darkness. There was no energy to move, not even enough to will eyelids to open. Not that it mattered. The visit never changed. What more could be said? What more could be done? All that mattered was that stale, barely edible food was only given after he was done. Only then, could there be any comfort from hell. ***** WARNING- This story does delve into topics of kidnapping, imprisonment, rape, murder, and violence. Though the scenes are not explicitly detailed, underage readers are discouraged. Also note that I do not own the rights to any photos I have or might post for this story. Just photos I found online, cropped and edited. The story however, is all mine. No copy of content is permitted.
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