“You cannot escape the inevitable, I will have your world for my own,” the voice was dark, guttural and inhuman. And it came from the creature chained against the wall. Veron gazed back and realized her eyes were no longer their purple vibrant color, but rather void, full of power and malicious intent.
Now Bush Mill wasn’t much of a village, but it suited Kane’s goal to travel with little effort. It got its name for the mill that ran with the steady stream. The rest of the buildings just cropped up overtime, filling in the necessities of those who lived there until it got its name on the map. It was quaint. Nice.
Kane couldn’t imagine living in Bush Mill.
Karinith Grier, if you leave this place without trying an adventure, I’ll never forgive you.
Her own thoughts startled her, but they were right. Home was always waiting for her, home would always be there.
But an adventure waits for no one. They were just as restless as she was.
His father was not within the delicately put together pure white bed he was before. He felt a cold steel nibble upon his neck and froze, listening to the loud heartbeat that echoed throughout the room.
“Who are you to enter this sacred place, monster?” A voice resounded.
“Who are you to call your son a monster?” Veron replied.