Gabriel Cristian

Imagine being trapped inside your own body.
          
          Not numb. Not asleep. Fully aware.
          
          You see through your own eyes. You feel every movement. You know exactly what your hands are doing.
          You just can’t stop them.
          
          Now imagine the first time you break through.
          A flicker. A miracle.
          Your fingers answer you. Your legs move because you told them to. For a handful of seconds, the world belongs to you again.
          It feels like being pulled out of paralysis. Like breathing after drowning. Like waking from a nightmare and realizing you’re still human.
          
          And then it’s gone.
          The control slips.
          The darkness surges back in, heavier than before.
          
          And something is missing.
          You can’t name it. A memory. A scent. The sound of someone laughing.
          You only know there’s a hollow where something precious used to live.
          
          Now add this:
          While you fight for seconds of agency, your body hunts.
          You taste the warmth of strangers.
          You hear bones break under your grip.
          You watch yourself tear through human beings like they’re nothing.
          
          You scream inside.
          The monster never hesitates.
          
          You are forced to witness every bite.
          Every plea.
          Every death.
          
          And the only way to steal back control
          is to sacrifice pieces of yourself.
          
          This isn’t a story about zombies.
          
          It’s a story about being conscious inside the monster.
          About hope that lasts minutes.
          About control you will never fully win.
          About the devastating truth that every second of freedom costs you something you can never get back.
          
          If you’re ready to step inside the mind of the infected
          and stay there...
          
          Read it.
          
          THE PASSENGER
          
          You won’t come out unchanged.

Chapters 16 & 17 of “Eon Veil” just dropped. I could pitch you a blurb full of hype, but let’s be honest, you’ll know in three paragraphs if it’s your kind of strange. Read. Don’t read. The Veil is patient.

What’s your dream setting, the sanctuary from which you summon worlds?
          
          Every creator has a hidden place, real or imagined, where stories are born and ideas refuse to sleep. Where is yours?
          
          If you could build your creative stronghold anywhere, what would it look like? Is it a wind-battered coastal village, a sun-drenched balcony, a corner table in a midnight café, or simply a room that smells like books and rain?
          
          Describe it. Taste the air, listen to the silence, feel what grows beneath your window. How would it shape the worlds you bring forth?
          
          Here’s mine, for inspiration:
          
          My Creative Sanctuary:
          
          My dream is to live in a small coastal village in Italy, with a population of a few hundred. I want to see the sea from my window and from my garden, where olive trees, willow (salix), magnolia (the big ones), and jacaranda stand guard.
          A small vegetable garden in the back, and a little pond for ducks and fish. The salty air with every sunrise, coffee in hand, peace all around.
          There, in the quiet, I’d conjure new worlds, each morning a blank page, each wave a call to write something honest, something felt. Each night, with a cool breeze and muffled music coming from the village centre, where small cafes and bistros come alive.
          That’s my sanctuary, the place where stories would come alive.
          
          
          What about you? Paint us a picture of your creative haven, real or wild as you dare. Let’s share a little beauty, and see what worlds we could make, together.
          

Title Update!
          
          The book, once called The Veil, is now EON VEIL.
          
          Why? Too many Veils out there, and this story deserved a name as unique as its soul:
          a sentient starship, a man of many lives, a journey through memory and myth.
          
          New name, new cover, same cosmic depth.
          Adam and DeadMouth are still here, drifting through stars, chasing forgotten truths.
          
          The Veil didn’t vanish.
          It just… remembered who it was.
          
          Gabriel C. Negus

The Veil is waiting.
          
          Five new chapters.
          The Veil remembers. The Veil tests.
          Adam walks the edge of forgotten worlds.
          Zoran's past is carved in frost and fire.
          Twin planets tremble, not knowing they are mirrors.
          The Eon Veil drifts on, hungering not for stars…
          …but for answers.
          This is not a story.
          It is a trial.
          Read now, before the silence calls your name.

@SunsetMercer Thank you for understanding. In regards to the book, you can keep it, or read it, there is absolutely no problem. My books are for anyone who wishes to read them. It's why we're here,  aren't we?
          Good luck on your path and take care. 
          
          Gabriel 
          
          

Hi. If you don't mind me asking, did I do something wrong?
          
          It's just, I saw that you unfollowed me, but I didn't know why.
          
          ~Sunset

@OfficialJKnows Hey, sure. Bring it. 

@GabrielNegus who knows. Fingers crossed  

@GabrielNegus oh thank you! Think cutting is simply a way to cope with trauma and self loathing deep down.
          I'm getting anxiety because Kizzy coming to an end. Can't believe, she seems to have been around forever!