Little Moon
The witch stumbled across the Great Hall. It was quiet this time, nothing like the last. A deathly silence that tore through your soul, and made you mourn for something unknown.
She had survived again. Once again she had escaped Death, and once again it wasn't worth it.
The bodies were piled on top of each other, laying where they had fallen during the battle. She tripped over a young student still in his uniform, and Luna paused to look at him for a moment before moving on. She felt a hollow ache in her chest, and a sudden sense of guilt quickly followed. She had found long ago that it didn't effect her any more, didn't make her shake, or make her angry.
People died and the world moved on, in Luna's mind it was as simple as that. She only cared about...
The blonde witch stopped as she spotted exactly what she had been dreading. A figure she knew too well lay motionless on the cold stone. She trembled as she rushed towards the tell-tale leather trench coat, both afraid and tired.
Falling to her knees the young witch carefully touched the wizards hair. His brown eyes were open, yet unseeing. And, Luna's heart clenched as she watched the blood trickled out of his breathless mouth and down his chin. A sob erupted from her chest. Not again, not fuckin' again, she silently begged. She was so tired. She thought this time it would work, would be different. In the puddle of misery that formed around Luna, the young witch missed two sets of footsteps slowly walking towards her.
She missed the presence of anyone but the dead until a cool hand caressed the nape of her neck and a shiver of fear ran down her spine.
"Hello Little Moon."
Here is a little teaser for the story that I am going to start publishing in the new year. My other story, "A Flash of Purple", will be updated sometime this month, and I hope to have a set schedule down for both stories in 2019. XOXO