Since ancient times, various peoples of the world have used amulets and talismans for protection. Their...
And I'll wait until sundown.
There are no monsters where there is Faith
I will look for you forever:
Having found, I will follow you - trail in trail ...
During my "creative crisis" I still read books that caused so much emotion that it was simply impossible not to write about them. But now, when I was still ripe for recall, I tried to understand my own writing and was defeated. These are book-style scraps - a bunch of unanswered questions. A bunch of incomprehensible characters. A ton of incomprehensible and incredible facts. How to collect all this in one pile - I can't imagine))).
I started reading the book because love Anna Jane's books... Well, how I love, I love "My ideal whirlwind" and those two parts of "Musical love spell" that I have finished reading at the moment XD So, this book has nothing to do with the above. Well, except for the author, of course. Anya tried herself in a new genre, and I will not say that she did not succeed in anything worthwhile. But she twirled everything - be healthy! You can't figure it out without a hundred grams, and even more so with them.
So we have the main character Jessica (Jess) Mellone... She has a cool Job, cool guy and generally speaking everything is awesome... Only now the girl's heart is broken and there the first love has settled forever. Lost and lost. In short, everything is not as good as it seems at first glance.
Love is the biggest madness.
Jess.Jess ... I don't know what to say about Jess. It's not that I don't like her ... Here again my rule of one favorite character works. And since this is not Jess, then alas, there is nothing I can do about it. She's a pretty brave girl, although he runs fast from the Scarecrow and the Snowman, and even screams. But I can't blame her for this, I would probably give my soul to God right away))). She's looking for Brent resolutely. And boldly. And stubbornly.Bursts into the houses of shadows, strides into darkness and uncertainty. Fights dark visions and approaching madness. Do I think she's crazy? Probably not. I believe in the supernatural aspect of this book. Let half the action take place in a dream, I believe that dreams and reality are one and the same... Perhaps later I will receive snap on the nose, in the form of Jess in a straitjacket and in a room with padded walls. But for now I believe. I even believe in a ghostly happy ending. Just imagine, Jess wakes up on the chest of a teenage Brent, in the middle of a sun-drenched flower field and says: "Darling, you won't believe what a dream I had!", And Brent will hug her and she will cease to be afraid. Yes, yes, I read plenty of women's novels and ate sweets too)))) Or she will find him alive and can bring him back. In the sense that it will push his shadow back to where it came from. And if Brenta Jess loves to madness, then she doesn't care about the rest. And on the guy, whom she tolerates out of habit and throws, while he lies in a coma. and parents who go crazy worrying about her. And on girlfriends who suddenly turn out to be bitches and fuck everything with her boyfriend XD
I love you angel of cursed air
with all the darkness that rages within me.
Will you tell me the answer?
...I do not need him.
Brent... I fell in love with Brent along with Jess. IN Brenta teen - gentle, timid, sincere. From these her memories of him, she throws me into awe. IN Brenta-ideal-man from her dreams, passionate, caring, matured. And ... in Dark Scarecrow (yes, I know it's mega-weird!)... But those purple eyes, harsh features and black hair. This is his desire to save and protect Jess, mixed with the desire to hurt and subjugate the girl to himself, break, trample. Straight goosebumps. And mine chuyka squeals non-stop that he and Brent are the same person. Or not a man? It does not matter. I would rather read what will happen next and find out if my suspicions are true.
Like... Snowman... I know that it belongs to James, who is deeply unpleasant to me, but the Snowman appeals to me more than the scarecrow.
Autumn Fog... An enigmatic and lovable character. He seems much softer and kinder than his friend - the Dark Scarecrow. AND if Dispater is a place for bad shadows, then it seems to me that the Fog of Autumn has no place there.
And now that a bunch of questions, which I wondered, but did not find the answer in this book. Eric and Brent were both with Alice. Why? Bet? The cute guy from the orchestra is not like someone who would bet on a girl. Have they always been like this or did their shadows awaken on the night of Alice's death? What awakens the shadow? Murder? Who killed Alice? (Jess? James? Brent? Or the Cave Demon? Who is he?) If Brent hated Jess, if he didn't love her, why is it the other way around in her dreams? Why does he ask her in his dreams to save him? Or does she see what she wants to see? Why does she see Brent as a monster in her flashback? Was Alice the first victim of secular games? (What the hell are these games anyway ?!) Was Brent a victim too? Why did Brent end up in Dispater for someone else but Jess's fault? Does that mean he got there for her? Who is this mysterious Aunt Jess, who surfaced in one of the memories and held her shadow? Is James alive or is he, too, a shadow - only Jess visible? Are faces the opposite of shadows? bright sides of the soul?
As you can see, there are enough questions to spin your brains through the meat grinder.I remember after reading a couple of days in prostration passed, was after book break... Continue reading I willto find answers to your questions and to find Brent. I do not believe that he died or disappeared forever.
And until dawn I will wait
To catch your red snow with my lips
And melt with him and shout:
I am a man, I am a man ...
Anna Jane
Nightmares, sweetheart
To my new friends whom I got to know through writing this story.
- Your fear is the sweetest.
- Your madness is the most attractive.
"Ugly love, ugly, ugly, ugly," he whispered, running his finger along her cheek. His voice was mocking, and now emanated with a luscious tenderness, now exuded an evil grin. Little human remains in the narrow, pointed face, framed by charcoal hair with gray hair. Thin and regular features were once distorted, madness sparkled in purple eyes.
And everything around seemed like a mad dream.
And the echoing vaults of the walls.
And curly shadows all around.
And the sounds of a music box.
And the delicate aroma of wormwood, anise and spices, as if someone had just poured absinthe. However, madness was spread. It absorbed into the floor, rose to the ceiling, and eaten into the walls. Billions of molecules scattered in the air. It got into the blood. It settled in my soul a scarlet blush.
The music fell in drops into the viscous silence.
The tightly bound girl, seated in a chair in front of the young man, gazed into his eerie face with a mixture of fear and disgust. Her lips were smashed, and dark blood caked under her long matted hair. The pulse quickened. Sweat beaded in tiny drops on my temples.
She was scared. Very scary. So scary that the soul trembled in the solar plexus, the muscles froze (hit - they would crumble), and the eyes were clouded with cold tears.
Only she didn't feel them. She felt nothing more at all, except for his fingers and his breath on her skin. And all-consuming fear.
She thought she was used to fear. But that was the wrong conclusion. One cannot get used to the fear of death.
"Lord, why? .."
- You play, - said the man gently and wiped the tears from his pale cheek, and then with a thoughtful look licked them off his finger. He bent his head to his shoulder, fixing his eyes at the high ceiling - neither give nor take a gourmet who tasted a delicious dish. Sweet, - he said and began to collect tears with his lips - from the face, neck, collarbones, no longer covered by a T-shirt - it broke so badly.
Each of this painfully long touch made the girl twitch. It seemed that where his lips had been, her skin was beginning to itch. And the man did not seem to notice this.
He loved doing this to her.
He liked her fear.
His breathing became irregular, heavy, and a couple of times he bit her skin - so that tears mixed with blood.
Her blood intoxicated him. Her smell was maddening - although it seemed much more?
- You're too sweet, Candy. Too.
He placed his index finger on her lower lip, pulling it down and exposing her even white teeth. And licked my lips pretty.
“Please…” the girl whispered, barely audible. - You are welcome…
- What are you asking for? - he put his hand to his ear, pretending not to hear.
- Let go, please ... Please, - she was so scared that every sound was difficult.
Purple eyes flashed.
Her captor leaned back in his chair with his hands folded in his lap.
“I can't,” he admitted honestly and rubbed his chin. - Or ... Yes, yes, yes.
Thin lips stretched out in a mocking smile, dimples appeared on the cheeks - such are only found in cheerful people who often have to laugh. But who cares about damn canyons on their cheeks when their eyes are abnormal?
- Kiss Me. Dizziness. Itself. Then I'll let go. How do you like the idea? Like? He gently touched her scratched knee and regretfully removed his hand.
The girl often nodded, agreeing to do anything to get out of here alive. In response, she got a smile, in which charm was tightly mixed with disgust. Like whiskey and cola.
- Kiss sweet, Candy.
The box fell silent, and the man twitched, grabbed it and turned the key several times again. I put it to my ear so that the musical drops would sound again.
"Pam-pam ... Pam-pam-pam ... Pam ... Pam-pam-pam-pam ..."
An eerie lullaby chilled to the bone.
- Will you really let go? - the girl stared unblinkingly at the terrible face. Dark matted hair covered half of her face. The blood caked in the corners of the lips made it look like they were being pulled down. The abrasion on the cheek looked like a long scar.
She looks crazy herself now.
- Did I lie to you? The man shrugged his shoulders, thrusting his hand into the pocket of his robe.
In the semi-darkness, catching one of the glare, the sharp blade of a knife flashed. The girl shrank instinctively, realizing that this was the end. She closed her eyes, but ...
But the knife did not touch her flesh - it cut only the ropes, freeing the heavy stiff arms and legs. And then with a clang he flew to the floor.
Her strained nerves also resonated loudly in response.
“To the point of dizziness,” the man reminded in a stern voice of the teacher and sat down on the chair opposite, wearily threw back his long black hair, and then silently touched his dark narrow lips with his finger, plainly making it clear that she should begin.
He waited. I was looking forward to it. Enjoyed the moment. And his eyes were clouded with desire.
The girl hesitated. She was still shaking with fear, and her stiff hands did not obey, but she believed that this could be her chance. A chance for salvation. And she must overcome weakness, fear, and disgust and do what he asks.
Leaning awkwardly forward, the girl, closing her eyes, touched his terrible lips with the feeling that she was kissing a huge talking spider or a snake with human eyes. It seemed to her that hideous swarming maggots lurked behind clenched teeth. And they are just waiting to get from his mouth into hers and find their way into the esophagus.
She felt sick of her own thoughts and fear. Horror enveloped the body in a dense obsessive veil, and the heart was ready to explode from such frequent beats, but ... Nothing terrible happened.
No pain, no disgust.
Hot male lips. She felt a slight metallic taste on them, which was hardly felt. He was interrupted by wormwood - as if he had recently been drinking absinthe.
And attractive - only this was not the strength to admit. He drove her crazy, kidnapped (or made it so that she herself came to him?) And will soon take her life. Does this morbid attraction make sense?
No tenderness, no sympathy, where does pleasure come from? ..
She's going crazy.
The girl pulled away. Her eyes glittered, dark strands clung to damp cheeks and neck, her nostrils fluttered.
The man shook his head slightly. Not satisfied.
He asked to kiss until dizziness? .. How? .. After all, he himself did not answer, remaining motionless. Demonstratively looking to the side. Enjoying her futile attempts. Her tears. Her humiliation.
And she knew it.
Fear rushed to the head with blood, overshadowing the mind.
You have to survive. At any cost. Take revenge. Tell the truth.
With these thoughts, the girl touched the tips of her aching fingers to his cheek, as if wondering what to do. Then she stood on stiff legs, numb and disobedient, and, almost falling, sat down on his knees, hating and dreaming that he would fall dead ... right now ... right here ... leaving her alone ...
He looked like a nutcase. And acted like a bastard. But if you put all this aside, it felt like he was an ordinary man.
But how can all this be dropped ?!
The shadows curling in the corners laughed silently at her incoherent thoughts. The box fell silent. A ghostly silence reigned.
The girl hesitated for a few seconds, gathering her strength, and then bit into his lips with an almost insane kiss, without knowing why she bit him until she bled.
This lowered the hook. The trigger was released, and the senses shot out, flew through the body, destroying the mind.
A flash flashed before her eyes, and if not for his hands, she would have fallen.
The box began to sound again by itself.
* * *… Gray-blue eyes look at her with tenderness and love.
His lips timidly touch hers.
Their fingers are intertwined.
“I love you,” a light whisper tickles her ear.
"I love you" - it is so nice to agree with reciprocity and fall into each other's arms.
They lie on his jacket right on the ground, and everywhere there is grass. Tall grasses hide them. Herbs know their secret. Herbs are witnesses to everything.
He repeats her name. Kisses the palm.
Inside there is a gentle watercolor autumn, without winds and with tons of golden sunlight. And outside - she is.
Cool. The sky is low, blue, full of strength.
Smells like apples, wormwood and delightfully bitter herbs.
And the tumbleweed is jumping joyfully, and everything inside is also joyful and light.
He hasn't had to kiss anyone before her, and he's inexperienced, but she likes it. He does not really know how to do anything and seems to be shy, but he is drawn to her as much as she is to him.
She holds his face in her palms, and laughs loudly, and ...
Anna Jane
Nightmares, sweetheart
To my new friends whom I got to know through writing this story.
- Your fear is the sweetest.
- Your madness is the most attractive.
"Ugly love, ugly, ugly, ugly," he whispered, running his finger along her cheek. His voice was mocking, and now emanated with a luscious tenderness, now exuded an evil grin. Little human remains in the narrow, pointed face, framed by charcoal hair with gray hair. Thin and regular features were once distorted, madness sparkled in purple eyes.
And everything around seemed like a mad dream.
And the echoing vaults of the walls.
And curly shadows all around.
And the sounds of a music box.
And the delicate aroma of wormwood, anise and spices, as if someone had just poured absinthe. However, madness was spread. It absorbed into the floor, rose to the ceiling, and eaten into the walls. Billions of molecules scattered in the air. It got into the blood. It settled in my soul a scarlet blush.
The music fell in drops into the viscous silence.
The tightly bound girl, seated in a chair in front of the young man, gazed into his eerie face with a mixture of fear and disgust. Her lips were smashed, and dark blood caked under her long matted hair. The pulse quickened. Sweat beaded in tiny drops on my temples.
She was scared. Very scary. So scary that the soul trembled in the solar plexus, the muscles froze (hit - they would crumble), and the eyes were clouded with cold tears.
Only she didn't feel them. She felt nothing more at all, except for his fingers and his breath on her skin. And all-consuming fear.
She thought she was used to fear. But that was the wrong conclusion. One cannot get used to the fear of death.
"Lord, why? .."
- You play, - said the man gently and wiped the tears from his pale cheek, and then with a thoughtful look licked them off his finger. He bent his head to his shoulder, fixing his eyes at the high ceiling - neither give nor take a gourmet who tasted a delicious dish. Sweet, - he said and began to collect tears with his lips - from the face, neck, collarbones, no longer covered by a T-shirt - it broke so badly.
Each of this painfully long touch made the girl twitch. It seemed that where his lips had been, her skin was beginning to itch. And the man did not seem to notice this.
He loved doing this to her.
He liked her fear.
His breathing became irregular, heavy, and a couple of times he bit her skin - so that tears mixed with blood.
Her blood intoxicated him. Her smell was maddening - although it seemed much more?
- You're too sweet, Candy. Too.
He placed his index finger on her lower lip, pulling it down and exposing her even white teeth. And licked my lips pretty.
“Please…” the girl whispered, barely audible. - You are welcome…
- What are you asking for? - he put his hand to his ear, pretending not to hear.
- Let go, please ... Please, - she was so scared that every sound was difficult.
Purple eyes flashed.
Her captor leaned back in his chair with his hands folded in his lap.
“I can't,” he admitted honestly and rubbed his chin. - Or ... Yes, yes, yes.
Thin lips stretched out in a mocking smile, dimples appeared on the cheeks - such are only found in cheerful people who often have to laugh. But who cares about damn canyons on their cheeks when their eyes are abnormal?
- Kiss Me. Dizziness. Itself. Then I'll let go. How do you like the idea? Like? He gently touched her scratched knee and regretfully removed his hand.
The girl often nodded, agreeing to do anything to get out of here alive. In response, she got a smile, in which charm was tightly mixed with disgust. Like whiskey and cola.
- Kiss sweet, Candy.
The box fell silent, and the man twitched, grabbed it and turned the key several times again. I put it to my ear so that the musical drops would sound again.
"Pam-pam ... Pam-pam-pam ... Pam ... Pam-pam-pam-pam ..."
An eerie lullaby chilled to the bone.
- Will you really let go? - the girl stared unblinkingly at the terrible face. Dark matted hair covered half of her face. The blood caked in the corners of the lips made it look like they were being pulled down. The abrasion on the cheek looked like a long scar.
To my new friends whom I got to know through writing this story.
- Your fear is the sweetest.
- Your madness is the most attractive.
Prologue
"Ugly love, ugly, ugly, ugly," he whispered, running his finger along her cheek. His voice was mocking, and now emanated with a luscious tenderness, now exuded an evil grin. Little human remains in the narrow, pointed face, framed by charcoal hair with gray hair. Thin and regular features were once distorted, madness sparkled in purple eyes.
And everything around seemed like a mad dream.
And the echoing vaults of the walls.
And curly shadows all around.
And the sounds of a music box.
And the delicate aroma of wormwood, anise and spices, as if someone had just poured absinthe. However, madness was spread. It absorbed into the floor, rose to the ceiling, and eaten into the walls. Billions of molecules scattered in the air. It got into the blood. It settled in my soul a scarlet blush.
The music fell in drops into the viscous silence.
The tightly bound girl, seated in a chair in front of the young man, gazed into his eerie face with a mixture of fear and disgust. Her lips were smashed, and dark blood caked under her long matted hair. The pulse quickened. Sweat beaded in tiny drops on my temples.
She was scared. Very scary. So scary that the soul trembled in the solar plexus, the muscles froze (hit - they would crumble), and the eyes were clouded with cold tears.
Only she didn't feel them. She felt nothing more at all, except for his fingers and his breath on her skin. And all-consuming fear.
She thought she was used to fear. But that was the wrong conclusion. One cannot get used to the fear of death.
"Lord, why? .."
- You play, - said the man gently and wiped the tears from his pale cheek, and then with a thoughtful look licked them off his finger. He bent his head to his shoulder, fixing his eyes at the high ceiling - neither give nor take a gourmet who tasted a delicious dish. Sweet, - he said and began to collect tears with his lips - from the face, neck, collarbones, no longer covered by a T-shirt - it broke so badly.
Each of this painfully long touch made the girl twitch. It seemed that where his lips had been, her skin was beginning to itch. And the man did not seem to notice this.
He loved doing this to her.
He liked her fear.
His breathing became irregular, heavy, and a couple of times he bit her skin - so that tears mixed with blood.
Her blood intoxicated him. Her smell was maddening - although it seemed much more?
- You're too sweet, Candy. Too.
He placed his index finger on her lower lip, pulling it down and exposing her even white teeth. And licked my lips pretty.
“Please…” the girl whispered, barely audible. - You are welcome…
- What are you asking for? - he put his hand to his ear, pretending not to hear.
- Let go, please ... Please, - she was so scared that every sound was difficult.
Purple eyes flashed.
Her captor leaned back in his chair with his hands folded in his lap.
“I can't,” he admitted honestly and rubbed his chin. - Or ... Yes, yes, yes.
Thin lips stretched out in a mocking smile, dimples appeared on the cheeks - such are only found in cheerful people who often have to laugh.
But who cares about damn canyons on their cheeks when their eyes are abnormal?
- Kiss Me. Dizziness. Itself. Then I'll let go. How do you like the idea? Like? He gently touched her scratched knee and regretfully removed his hand.
The girl often nodded, agreeing to do anything to get out of here alive. In response, she got a smile, in which charm was tightly mixed with disgust. Like whiskey and cola.
- Kiss sweet, Candy.
The box fell silent, and the man twitched, grabbed it and turned the key several times again. I put it to my ear so that the musical drops would sound again.
"Pam-pam ... Pam-pam-pam ... Pam ... Pam-pam-pam-pam ..."
An eerie lullaby chilled to the bone.
- Will you really let go? - the girl stared unblinkingly at the terrible face. Dark matted hair covered half of her face. The blood caked in the corners of the lips made it look like they were being pulled down. The abrasion on the cheek looked like a long scar.
She looks crazy herself now.
- Did I lie to you? The man shrugged his shoulders, thrusting his hand into the pocket of his robe.
In the semi-darkness, catching one of the glare, the sharp blade of a knife flashed. The girl shrank instinctively, realizing that this was the end. She closed her eyes, but ...
But the knife did not touch her flesh - it cut only the ropes, freeing the heavy stiff arms and legs. And then with a clang he flew to the floor.
Her strained nerves also resonated loudly in response.
“To the point of dizziness,” the man reminded in a stern voice of the teacher and sat down on the chair opposite, wearily threw back his long black hair, and then silently touched his dark narrow lips with his finger, plainly making it clear that she should begin.
He waited. I was looking forward to it. Enjoyed the moment. And his eyes were clouded with desire.
The girl hesitated. She was still shaking with fear, and her stiff hands did not obey, but she believed that this could be her chance. A chance for salvation. And she must overcome weakness, fear, and disgust and do what he asks.
Leaning awkwardly forward, the girl, closing her eyes, touched his terrible lips with the feeling that she was kissing a huge talking spider or a snake with human eyes. It seemed to her that hideous swarming maggots lurked behind clenched teeth. And they are just waiting to get from his mouth into hers and find their way into the esophagus.
She felt sick of her own thoughts and fear. Horror enveloped the body in a dense obsessive veil, and the heart was ready to explode from such frequent beats, but ... Nothing terrible happened.
No pain, no disgust.
Hot male lips. She felt a slight metallic taste on them, which was hardly felt. He was interrupted by wormwood - as if he had recently been drinking absinthe.
And attractive - only this was not the strength to admit. He drove her crazy, kidnapped (or made it so that she herself came to him?) And will soon take her life. Does this morbid attraction make sense?
No tenderness, no sympathy, where does pleasure come from? ..
She's going crazy.
The girl pulled away. Her eyes glittered, dark strands clung to damp cheeks and neck, her nostrils fluttered.
The man shook his head slightly. Not satisfied.
He asked to kiss until dizziness? .. How? .. After all, he himself did not answer, remaining motionless. Demonstratively looking to the side. Enjoying her futile attempts. Her tears. Her humiliation.
And she knew it.
Fear rushed to the head with blood, overshadowing the mind.
You have to survive. At any cost. Take revenge. Tell the truth.
With these thoughts, the girl touched the tips of her aching fingers to his cheek, as if wondering what to do. Then she stood on stiff legs, numb and disobedient, and, almost falling, sat down on his knees, hating and dreaming that he would fall dead ... right now ... right here ... leaving her alone ...
He looked like a nutcase. And acted like a bastard. But if you put all this aside, it felt like he was an ordinary man.
But how can all this be dropped ?!
The shadows curling in the corners laughed silently at her incoherent thoughts. The box fell silent. A ghostly silence reigned.
The girl hesitated for a few seconds, gathering her strength, and then bit into his lips with an almost insane kiss, without knowing why she bit him until she bled.
This lowered the hook. The trigger was released, and the senses shot out, flew through the body, destroying the mind.
A flash flashed before her eyes, and if not for his hands, she would have fallen.
The box began to sound again by itself.
* * *
… Gray-blue eyes look at her with tenderness and love.
His lips timidly touch hers.
Their fingers are intertwined.
“I love you,” a light whisper tickles her ear.
"I love you" - it is so nice to agree with reciprocity and fall into each other's arms.
They lie on his jacket right on the ground, and everywhere there is grass. Tall grasses hide them. Herbs know their secret. Herbs are witnesses to everything.
He repeats her name. Kisses the palm.
Inside there is a gentle watercolor autumn, without winds and with tons of golden sunlight. And outside - she is.
Cool. The sky is low, blue, full of strength.
Smells like apples, wormwood and delightfully bitter herbs.
And the tumbleweed is jumping joyfully, and everything inside is also joyful and light.
He hasn't had to kiss anyone before her, and he's inexperienced, but she likes it. He does not really know how to do anything and seems to be shy, but he is drawn to her as much as she is to him.
She holds his face in her palms, and laughs loudly, and ...
* * *
... and then he went crazy. He grabbed her by the shoulders, painfully digging his fingers into the delicate skin, eagerly responding to the kiss - as if it was the last kiss in his life. Furious, painful, crushing.
Crazy like himself.
The kiss touched. With hatred, despair, destructive force.
Every muscle was tense. Every nerve is bare.
It sparkled inside.
And it felt like a fight.
The girl did not remember how she lost control. I did not understand how I began to receive pleasure from everything that was happening - brittle, fragile like glass, and just as sharp and dangerous.
Abnormal.
She clung to the strained shoulders of the man, threw up her chin, allowing him to leave marks on the strained neck, grabbed at the hair, whispering something completely incoherent.
She was pierced right through - through her lungs and heart, down through her stomach.
“Candy-Candy-Candy,” he said hoarsely in between kisses, burning her skin with his breath. - What are you doing to me, Candy. Too dizzy ...
And she, experiencing almost physical pain from the fact that her abductor pulled away, caught his lips and kissed again and again.
She kissed as if she loved. But she knew for sure that she hated him.
He pulled away first and carefully sat the girl in his chair. And she cried soundlessly - from unexpected disappointment, tried to climb onto his lap again, but he roughly shoved her away from him and again leaned back, breathing heavily and looking at her from under his brows.
Silence hung between them. Shadows lurked. They smiled.
Several tens of seconds of withdrawal, and the girl came to herself, realizing where she was and what was wrong with her. A new wave of fear swept through the body, now no longer bound by ropes. What got into her ?! Stockholm Syndrome?
Thin fingers touched burning lips.
No, she couldn't. Not.
The man looked at her with affection, as if reading thoughts. Only the purple eyes became even scarier. There was no glare in them. There was nothing in them but this all-consuming madness.
“Let go,” the girl asked barely audibly. Hope left the penultimate - after her, her body will leave.
“I’ll let you go,” her kidnapper agreed easily. There was not a hint of truth in his words. - I promised.
She wrung her hands. Let it end. You are welcome. Let, let, let ...
“Go,” he waved his hand widely. And he smiled cheerfully. The dimples on his predatory face seemed completely redundant. - Go on. Go. The door is there, - he pointed with a finger with a dark nail somewhere to the right.
Only then did the girl realize that no matter how free her body was now, no matter how free her body was, he would still kill her. Just play first. And this game has already begun.
Ropes don't mean anything. She will not be saved.
He will be everywhere. He will be behind her. He will be in her heart.
“You too…” she said with difficulty, remembering all those who had disappeared. "Will you kill ... me too?"
He smiled, stood up, leaned over to her, placing his hand on the back of the chair behind her, and gently licked his cheek, leaving a wet mark on her.
- What are you, Candy. What are you. - Purple eyes peered into her frightened face with streaks of blood for a long time. - What are you. Go on.
She shook. She shook her head, muttered something pathetic, begging.
The man abruptly grabbed her by the forearms and jerked her to her feet. Like a doll.
She was his doll.
“Go,” he repeated in the same disgusting voice. - Run away. Look for happiness, Candy! You won't find him with me.
The black-haired man stepped aside, folding his arms behind his back, and watched with interest as she made timid steps, staggering and clutching at the bare cold wall.
It was like in a dream - the legs became wadded, movements became difficult, and the girl could hardly move.
She had a goal.
Gathering all her strength, she suddenly bent down and picked up the fallen knife, which she forgot about for the duration of the mad kiss, but which she did not forget for a moment after it. The handle was icy, like a knife in the refrigerator. But she didn't care - the girl threw her hand forward and threw herself at the man.
He with a laugh caught her with one hand, and the other grabbed the knife by the blade, which immediately dug into the skin. And with a light movement, he tore the cold weapon out of the girl's thin fingers, throwing it far, into the dense shadow in the very corner.
“I thought you wouldn't even remember him,” he shook his head, stroking her face with a bloody hand and not noticing that he was wounded.
- Scum! The girl screamed, trying to escape.
And he suddenly hugged her like a toy, holding her to him, forcing her to listen to the beat of his heart in his chest. Closing his eyes and kissing gently on the hair, on the temple. Something silently speaking.
And then he abruptly pulled back and, grabbing a syringe from the iron table next to him, wordlessly injected its contents into the bend of the elbow of the frozen girl.
The last thing she saw was a huge shadow detached from the wall and stepped towards them, smiling and taking off his hat.
Unconsciousness saved her from madness.
- Ugly love, - the man whispered, shaking and not letting go of the girl. - Ugly, ugly, ugly ...
"Pam-pam ... Pam-pam-pam ... Pam ... Pam-pam-pam-pam ..."
Chapter 1
Several months ago
A happy life is not given to everyone - someone is fighting for it, pulling what they want from the clutches of reality. And someone enjoys everything that was given to him at birth, without even thinking at what cost others receive it.
Jessica Malone was considered a happy person.
At twenty-seven years old, she was pretty, confident, smart, charming and firmly on her feet. A fashionable wardrobe, a phone of the latest model, a nice car, a house of her own in a fashionable area - all this she got easily, without too much straining. After graduating from a prestigious university with a degree in journalism, Jess easily got a job in one of the fashionable women's magazines and has successfully written articles and interviewed celebrities for several years. She was in good standing among colleagues, skillfully resisting gossip and rumors, often traveled, bought branded clothes, attended self-development seminars and went in for sports: fitness twice a week and yoga twice. In addition, her personal life did not fail - for two years now, Jess met with a man who, without exaggeration, could be called a dream with Scandinavian roots: tall, blue-eyed blonde Eric was a perfect match for brown-eyed dark-haired Jess. He was pleasant to talk to, polite, athletic and had an attractive appearance, but not at all corny. But, most importantly, he was smart and, despite his age - he was not yet thirty, taught at New Palmer University in the Faculty of Physical Sciences.
It seems they were both in love. They often rested together, had common interests and did not get bored in each other's company. And both dreamed of a big family. In addition, Eric kissed amazingly, was gentle and caring, losing to only one man.
In the winter, they decided to get married: Eric looked after the house, and Jess made the itinerary for their honeymoon. She has long dreamed of a Mediterranean cruise.
Numerous friends and colleagues at the magazine could only envy Jess and her ideal, from their point of view, life.
Of course, her fate has developed this way largely thanks to the help of parents who provide great support: rational enough to give the eldest daughter freedom of choice, and conservative enough to prevent this freedom from turning into unmanageable anarchy. Father is a successful businessman who made money from industrial waste recycling companies, mother is a typical high-society housewife, busy with social life: she was previously the head of the Board of Trustees of the school where Jess once studied, participated in charity events, and now, when they moved from quiet Crownford to a huge bustling New Palmer, and even headed her own fund to help children.
If Jess were a man, they would have expected a lot from her - at least that's what her father said, but since she was lucky to be born a woman (mother's statement!), A number of responsibilities were removed from her. The mission to become the heir to his father in managing the company was entrusted to his younger brother Tedd, and Jess dreamed of the position of editor-in-chief. And towards this goal I was slowly but persistently. Patience and hard work she did not take.
She considered herself a confident and fearless person - up to a certain point.
... that day, Jess was returning home from a violent party in a nightclub late, after midnight. For a long time, the girl had not had such fun and did not dance so much - she even took off her shoes on the dance floor. And the blame was the birthday of her colleague and good friend Diana. She was used to celebrating on a grand scale and knew how to charge others with an excellent mood.
After a stormy celebration, a taxi driver brought Jess home - because of alcohol, the girl did not dare to sit on the wheel of a brand new Chevrolet Spark. All the way she talked to Eric on the phone, leaning back in the soft seat back. The lights of the big city rushed by rapidly - at night New Palmer was relatively empty, but by seven in the morning traffic jams began to gather on the roads - an eternal problem of the modern metropolis.
Jess was still throbbing alcohol in her chattering blood, making her dizzy and easy. I wanted madness and love. Plucking kisses and breaking herself - with the person with whom she wanted to connect her future life. And he, as luck would have it, went on a business trip - to a scientific symposium on quantum physics.
“When you get back, I miss,” Jess said in a moody voice. The wind from the half-open window ruffled his hair.
- Tomorrow, honey, I already said, - reminded Eric in a calm voice. Although he did not like that the bride was drunk, he did not reprimand her or shout, only gently reproached and made fun of her condition.
- Tomorrow will not come soon. But when it comes, you'll be in my bedroom all night, ”Jess said jokingly, and the driver smiled when he heard that. A slender girl with a shock of dark disheveled hair seemed to him candy, which instead of a wrapper - a little black dress with bare shoulders and a leather jacket thrown over it. Someone is very lucky.
“We’ve arrived,” he said, stopping the car near her house: a two-story, smart, blue-roofed, asymmetrical façade surrounded by a flat lawn — a typical home in a cozy elite suburb.
Calm and deserted. Safe.
As on a postcard, a large round moon hovered over the house, around which single stars twinkled in a matte dark blue sky.
Jess paid off, leaving the driver more than she was supposed to, and got out of the taxi, continuing the conversation with the groom.
She did not notice how quiet around her. I didn’t pay attention to the fact that the light of the lanterns became dim and cold. I didn't feel the smell of alarm in the humid night air.
The driver, who suddenly felt unreasonable fear, looked at the figure of the client walking on the stone path for the last time, walking frivolously on monstrous heels, and hastened to get away.
When he looked around mechanically, before turning the corner, he noticed that a huge scarecrow appeared in the courtyard of the brunette's house, opening its arms in eternal greeting.
"And why is it here?" - thought the driver, and the scarecrow suddenly waved a clawed hand at him. The man, cursing in amazement, almost crashed into a spreading tree, but taxied in time. He preferred not to turn around anymore, but rather to dump away.
Jess walked slowly toward the house, drenched in alcohol and oblivious to anything. Anxiety was just beginning to grow.
She would have immediately run into the house, but she stopped several times, chatting with the groom, laughed, insisted that she was bored.
- You arrived? - said Eric.
“Yes,” Jess muttered sleepily.
- Sleep well. I love you, ”he said goodbye.
- And I will, - the girl agreed lazily.
“Take care of yourself,” her boyfriend habitually admonished her, and they simultaneously passed out.
Jess realized that something was happening only when she was already opening the door. She realized suddenly that someone was staring at her. So intently that it seemed as if a flame was burning on his back.
Unreasonable fear seized her. Animal. Sticky and nasty.
The girl turned sharply and saw a tall man's silhouette near the road. Someone, dressed in a baggy cloak and hood, was holding a stick like a staff and looking at it. Perhaps he was smiling - it was impossible to see it in the semi-darkness.
"Who is this?" - flashed through the girl's head. She did not know all of her neighbors, but she doubted that any of them went on night walks like this.
The stranger's eyes blinked with a scarlet, infernal flash, a slit appeared on his face, glowing with a poisonous green light - a sort of crooked, terrible smile. A hand went up in greeting - like an Indian's. And the owner of this terrible face began to approach the horrified Jess. It was a long way to Halloween, and a guy in a monster costume could not have inspired such an irrational quivering fear.
Good day, dear readers and readers of the IRecommend website!
On such a New Year's, winter, but, unfortunately, snowless evening, my mood prompted me to finally write a review, which I hesitated for six months. And I did not dare to do this, because, as it seems to me, the review of the book is one of the most laborious and difficult of all reviews that can only be. And, as you already understood, this is my first experience, so do not judge strictly
I would like to start a review with my reading experience and preferences.
♡ I started to get involved in reading about 3 years ago. The first book that I read in just one evening and from which my love of reading began was "The Fault in the Stars" by John Green, then most of the books that I read were of the genre dystopia, drama, teen books, or sometimes even love stories... For some reason, the classics attracts me very little, the most "readable" by me classical works are works about the war, such as "The Fate of a Man" by Mikhail Sholokhov, "The Dawns Here Are Quiet ..." by Boris Lvov, "Coward" by Garshin, etc. How You may have already noticed that I did not say a word about the genre of horror and mysticism, because it is completely far from me and my preferences. In books, I appreciate the dynamic development of the plot, the lack of "water", as well as clarity and ease of reading.♡
Now let's get down to the book:
I myself did not hear about her until they gave me the book that I am telling you about in this review, but here is what I managed to find about her:
Also her works are:
♕ Genre:horror / mysticism.
♕ A little about the design of the paper version of the book
The cover itself seems to scream that the book is shrouded in mysticism
The font of the book is not small and not large, it reads well, you don't have to strain your eyes.
The beginning of each chapter is decorated with a painted girl
Both pictures and letters have a decent look
The glass painted on the cover shimmers beautifully with a mirror shine
On the endpapers of the book, we can see all the same shards of glass
♕ The plot and content of the book.
And finally we come to the most important thing, which is why the whole review was - the content.
Undoubtedly, you need to start with annotations for our book:
Jess lives an ordinary life with a good job, a loving family and a wonderful boyfriend. Jess is getting ready for her wedding and dream trip.
But Jess does not know that soon a crazy past will burst into her happy present, and the future will be threatened.
On the streets, dead girls will be found with frozen smiles on their faces.
The monsters will leave their hideouts.
And the one whose eyes are shining with madness will return and lay claim.
And quietly say in her ear: "Nightmares, darling ...".
First,what I liked right away was an unusual introduction
Second:the author at the end of the book writes a small poem for us, which seems to hint at the continuation of the story.
And the most important thing is the plot.
Let me tell you why I liked the plot and why a book of a genre far from my tastes was able to make such an impression on me.
And the thing is that the book was able to interest me from the very prologue (which rarely happens to me). After reading it, I immediately realized that I could not leave the book until I had finished reading it to the end. Even when I tried to put the heroine of my review and do other things, I soon realized that I wanted to continue and continue reading it. And all because each chapter of the book constantly ends with the most interesting and the hand itself stretched to turn the page to the next chapter to let me know what will happen next
In my "baggage of the reader" there are not so many books that interested me so much that I read them in one day or night, but this book managed to get into this number, so I certainly recommend it to all book lovers
Its only drawback for me was that the book has some kind of understatement and much remains a mystery to me, but I hope I will find the answers to all my questions in the second part of this book, on which the writer should begin work soon.
I give the book five stars and recommend it to everyone to read it.
I hope that my review was at least a little useful for you. All kindness and more interesting books: 3
