Page 28 of Draven
Memories flooded my mind—of my dad teaching me how to hunt, fish, and respect the woods. He also showed me how to control the frightening beast that shared my skin.
The dream shifted to the day Belladonna appeared at my doorstep, her clothes tattered and her body covered in scratches.
I could still remember the words she said.
“Help me. Please. I got lost in the woods.”
Despite living alone since my dad passed away, I still remembered his lessons in kindness.
Foolishly, I fell for the act. I invited her into my den, believing I could offer aid.
That turned out to be the gravest mistake of my life.
“Here, you can use my phone,” I had told her.
As I extended my cell phone to Belladonna, a sudden shift in the air sent a chill down my spine.
The atmosphere seemed to crackle with an unseen energy, and I felt a wave of dizziness wash over me.
Before I could react, her hand closed around my wrist with an iron grip, and I knew something was terribly wrong.
In that moment, magic surged through me, like tendrils of shadow wrapping around my very soul.
I struggled to break free, but it was as if I was trapped in a nightmare, unable to escape.
I also saw that the injuries she had displayed were nothing but a well-crafted illusion.
A searing pain tore through my chest, I clenched my teeth against the agony, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
A strange, burning sensation spread across my skin.
I staggered backward, clutching at my chest, my heart pounding with fear and confusion.
Shaking with rage, I glanced down, and my blood ran cold at the sight before me.
A dark, twisting rune was etching itself onto my flesh, its lines pulsating with an eerie, otherworldly light.
Each stroke of the rune seemed to sear into my skin like a branding iron, and I let out a half-growl, half-scream.
My mind reeled with disbelief as I watched the symbol take shape.
As the final line of the rune fell into place, I felt a chill settle over me, colder than anything I had ever experienced.
I knew in that moment that my life would never be the same again, that I had been marked by something ancient and sinister, something that would haunt me until I died…unless I managed to free myself of it.
My eyes snapped open, the remnants of the nightmare clinging to my thoughts like cobwebs in a dark corner.
The chill that had enveloped my body slowly receded, leaving me shivering in the wake of its icy touch.
With a frustrated grunt, I pushed the sheets away, my muscles tense with lingering unease.
As I sat up in bed, I touched the lingered rune on my chest and cursed.
My anger simmered just beneath the surface. I was still mad at myself, for my naivety and at Belladonna, for everything she’d done to me.
My thoughts swirled with bitterness and resentment.
What had I done to deserve such a fate? I had always kept to myself, avoiding trouble and conflict whenever possible.