Nameless
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- Parts 10
I don't have a name. Not a proper one. He gave me one when he found me. But I don't know my real name. He saved me. From the dark place. I was made there. Just a creature. Nothing more to their eyes. They didn't know I could feel pain and emotion, longing and sadness. They just thought I was an empty case to experiment on. They were wrong.
In the Victorian London slums, Silas finds a girl, wounded and beaten by the road, frightened and confused. He brings her in and finding she doesn't have a name, calls her Charity. But she isn't an ordinary girl. They set out to find the truth about Charity, and whether she is really a creature, or if she is in fact human.
Historical, Science-Fiction, Mystery/Thriller
Warning: some scenes may contain violence
Historical fiction #101 (6/4/2015)
All Rights Reserved
#30
nanowrimo
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They said the Hunt was sacred. That if I was chosen, it meant fate. But fate didn't feel like a mouth on my skin or claws at my back. It felt like blood. Mine. For years, I stayed hidden. Quiet. Unclaimed. I stole seeds from the state fields, grew food in secret, fed my family from soil and silence. I did everything right - stayed beneath their radar, beneath their noses. I didn't make waves. I didn't ask for more. But monsters never forget a scent. And when the Hunt came, I was scented. Tracked. Taken. I stabbed him. I buried the blade in his shoulder and watched him bleed. It didn't matter. Because he still bit me. And the world saw. Now my face is on every screen. The girl who didn't run. The girl who fought back. Some call me a rebel. Some call me a mate. But they all forget one thing. I wasn't made to be claimed. I was made to survive. And if they want to collar me, cage me, crown me - they'll have to reckon with everything I've kept buried beneath the roots. Because I am not the flower. I'm the fire beneath it. Rewrite version of formerly known book Escaping the monsters Embrace
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