A transcript from the Topland Chronicles. The legend of the veil.
Aramious the great sat at the writing desk, the wooden grain under his hand had been smoothed with age. Just like his old leather hands that held the quill in shaking fingers. The elegant lines of ink left behind would later leave the readers no inclination of his maladies.
These two opening of short stories was written for a writing competition. Although this is the edited version of what was previously The Cumberland Chronicles. I hope you enjoy and any feedback is welcome. **The Veil.** Word count. 1686 Tarrin pulled a steady stream of energy from the trees into his body and…
Total word count. 3503 The premise for this collection of writing is that the stories are set in the same world. The Rising. 2438 word count. Jack watched the torch light sputter and died. The wisps of black smoke from the wax tallow merged with the darkness of the ceiling. A single sash window…
Descendant of Nephilim. Part 8.
The night air was cold on his already cold nose. The northeasterly breeze coming off the lake alway hit this far into the wood land. The term lake almost seemed insufficient for its mass, as you couldn’t see one side from the other.
The Beginning Part 7. Vanessa drew back the dark blue curtains and swiveled the decorative hole cap with a finger, she inserted the small key in the window shutter lock and turned. At the click, she pulled open the shutters and let the moonlight through. A rustle came from the corner of the room where…
The black sedan pulled up to the curb as heavy traffic rattled by. This part of town was extremely busy this time of day as shop works and shoppers alike went in search of nourishment. Department store and office building intermingled with cafes and bars. Life teeming like the ebb and flow of the seas. Humanity unaware of the underworld that surrounded them.
Descendant of Nephilim. Part 5.
Descendant of Nephilim Part 3.
The events of the night still shook her to her core. Not only had she gained an uncle but she also just found out that her uncle was a immortal psychopathic vampire.
The long hot shower had help soothe her aching muscle if not her mind.
Those who are considered worthy of taking part in the age to come, and in the resurrection from the dead will neither marry nor be given in marriage, and they can no longer die; for they are like the angels. They are God’s children, since they are children of the resurrection.
Cassandra admired the last stroke of red varnish on her elegant fingernails. Her perfectly manicured fingers a far cry from the blood-soaked mess they were hours before. She reclined in the soft baby blue fabric of the wingback chair, as the fire burnt low in the iron grate behind her. Her yellow eyes flicked to the door as a small knock interrupted her vanity.
[IP] Dragon Majesty