Scraps and One-Shots
  • Reads 136
  • Votes 1
  • Parts 3
  • Time 9m
  • Reads 136
  • Votes 1
  • Parts 3
  • Time 9m
Ongoing, First published Dec 10, 2012
Greetings, traveler. Have you come here on purpose? Or have you stumbled here by accident, looking for a warm place to spend the night?

Come, sit. No, not over there. Come closer, I won't bite... much. Warm yourself by the fire. Would you like anything? A meal, or maybe a drink?

No? Hm. Perhaps you will let me entertain you, then. I have tales to tell. Some are incomplete, some I have disregarded. Some probably should not exist at all... yet they do, and I wish them to be known.

I can see I have captured your interest, traveler. Let me begin...
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In Shadows of Night by dstry0515
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I woke to a sudden breeze invading the warmth from the heavy blanket that caressed my skin. Here, alone with my thoughts, the still, calm quiet in the atmosphere is almost painful. I feel suffocated in the clingy, static air. In quiet, still moments like these, I can almost feel Him. I don't know who "Him" is, but I can feel his presence. It's almost calming, especially on fearful, anxiety fueled nights. Usually, he was the strongest when I had a nightmare. The nightmares weren't as common now, but, right after everything happened, I was having them every night. I'd wake up and swear I was drenched in blood, my eyes and lips sticky, my nose filled with the smell of iron and fuel. After everything, that's when Him first came. From there, he just never left. I can usually sense when Him is near. Today, though, his presence is stronger. I can almost feel Him next to me, weighing down the mattress. Some nights, I roll over and imagine how he looks, envision his smile or the sparkle in his eyes. He's never there and I'm left clutching to the thought that he exists, staring into empty air. Tonight, though, I swear I can reach out and touch him. Extending my hand gently, I sweep my hand out into the darkness and meet an inexplicable warmth. A scream rips from my lungs as hands cover my face and two icy blue eyes stare back at me, daring me to speak again. A soft cloth caressed my nose and mouth before I felt myself fade into bed. All Rights Reserved. Contains graphic descriptions of violence and assault. Contains battle scene.
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Words sounded muffled, like her ears were full of water, yet she spoke as if she knew what people were saying. She just wanted to seem as if she were normal, but she knew better, she was terrible at hiding her emotions. She felt drained, depressed, lonely, but at the same time, she was angry. She wanted to stab something, kill it with her bare hands. She was angry at the council for protecting that murderer, angry at Saren for taking the love of her life from her, but more than anything, she was angry at herself. She was angry for not spending more time with Nihlus. She knew that if she told someone about how she was feeling, they'd likely tell her that it wasn't her fault and that she was blaming herself far too much, but now she had no one to talk to. She had barely any friends and her only family was John, and she didn't feel much too comfortable talking to him about such things. It was always Nihlus. He was always there for her. She felt so isolated from the world without him. ---------- Jane Shepard is a simple engineer on the Normandy, quiet and a bit soft spoken. While out on shore leave, she meets a turian Spectre who she fall deeply in love with, but when he dies, she's left sad and hollow. Her time spent depressed is short lived until another turian comes into a life, relighting a fire in her once more.