I'm trying this out, the plots not really worked on, but I know the basic
of the story so far in my head. Enjoy, I guess. Please tell me what you
think.
Lost Rose - Prologue
They were everywhere. Blood red, soft pink, innocent white, sea blue, and even one as black as shadow. Heady scents filled the air, intoxicating. A gentle breeze stirs and blows the buds, mixing each unique scent to waft the senses.
A girl was curled up in a ball on a cold marble bench in the center of the rose garden. She's wrapped in a giant red plaid blanket, her dull eyes staring at the one black rose.
Since when did roses bloom during winter.?
Roses are the girls flower. One of her many friends had said she was indeed a rose; lovely, beautiful, graceful, yet deadly. Roses have thorns, he had said. Thorns that can snag and leave their mark.
It's said that one read rose is more romantic than many. Would that mean one black rose is deadlier than many? One blade more dangerous than an army? One assassin more cunning than a guild?
The girl was actually not quite a girl. She's an adult, but looking as lost as she did, she looked much younger. As if she were a school girl with her first broken heart, crying on her mothers shoulder.
But in reality, she was a murder, betrayer, back-stabber, cheating whore. Letting herself be taken and used for the thirst of blood. She knew it, was actually obsessed with the thought. She would never deny to killing dozens of men and women.
Just no one had ever asked before.
She knew pain. Desolate pain that ached in her chest and made it hard to wake up each morning, wondering if today would be the day it would all end. Only the thought of warm blood on her hands, heating the ice shard of her heart, made it so much easier.
But today.today was different.
The need to take revenge had not been there when she had woken. It had disappeared, evaporated, just like the scent of the first boy she'd killed. Roses. The smell of them fresh after blooming.
But since her only need to fulfill wasn't there anymore, she now felt worthless. In limbo. Separate from everything and every one. Not that she didn't normally feel like that, but without a will for the day, it had increased. Now it was unbearable.
The wind chilled, and the girl hugged herself tighter. She'd cry if she could, but she knew she was out of tears. There were no more to shed, nothing left to grieve.
Just like a wilted rose, the urge to kill had died. Came, left. With spring it might return, bloom again to its full throttle.
But for now, it was over. She would make sure only one more person would die by her hands.
And that could only be she.
Review, please.
Lost Rose - Prologue
They were everywhere. Blood red, soft pink, innocent white, sea blue, and even one as black as shadow. Heady scents filled the air, intoxicating. A gentle breeze stirs and blows the buds, mixing each unique scent to waft the senses.
A girl was curled up in a ball on a cold marble bench in the center of the rose garden. She's wrapped in a giant red plaid blanket, her dull eyes staring at the one black rose.
Since when did roses bloom during winter.?
Roses are the girls flower. One of her many friends had said she was indeed a rose; lovely, beautiful, graceful, yet deadly. Roses have thorns, he had said. Thorns that can snag and leave their mark.
It's said that one read rose is more romantic than many. Would that mean one black rose is deadlier than many? One blade more dangerous than an army? One assassin more cunning than a guild?
The girl was actually not quite a girl. She's an adult, but looking as lost as she did, she looked much younger. As if she were a school girl with her first broken heart, crying on her mothers shoulder.
But in reality, she was a murder, betrayer, back-stabber, cheating whore. Letting herself be taken and used for the thirst of blood. She knew it, was actually obsessed with the thought. She would never deny to killing dozens of men and women.
Just no one had ever asked before.
She knew pain. Desolate pain that ached in her chest and made it hard to wake up each morning, wondering if today would be the day it would all end. Only the thought of warm blood on her hands, heating the ice shard of her heart, made it so much easier.
But today.today was different.
The need to take revenge had not been there when she had woken. It had disappeared, evaporated, just like the scent of the first boy she'd killed. Roses. The smell of them fresh after blooming.
But since her only need to fulfill wasn't there anymore, she now felt worthless. In limbo. Separate from everything and every one. Not that she didn't normally feel like that, but without a will for the day, it had increased. Now it was unbearable.
The wind chilled, and the girl hugged herself tighter. She'd cry if she could, but she knew she was out of tears. There were no more to shed, nothing left to grieve.
Just like a wilted rose, the urge to kill had died. Came, left. With spring it might return, bloom again to its full throttle.
But for now, it was over. She would make sure only one more person would die by her hands.
And that could only be she.
Review, please.