I've just been stricken with a very new - well, sorta - story idea. It's a parallel of my series - Fairest. It'll be so much better written, I hope, and it'll be in third person point of view. And it'll also be darker - as in violence and way better described.
Here's a snippet:
The walls seemed to close in on Aphrodite. From all directions was blackness. No longer did she stand in the field of her life. She was flying - she knew not where - to the land of where she would die. Her breath was caught in her throat, her stomach doing somersaults.
Why did she do this to herself? She had always been the type of woman that went and got what they wanted... She had always fought. But now... now she had surrendered.
As she landed, she felt the world right itself again. Much too soon for her, she doubled over, gagging, but nothing coming out. Desperate to catch her breath, she wound her arms around her stomach. Why? She didn't know. It was more of instinct. The lights turned on then, and the dark, cloaked figure hovered around her, taking her in.
"You truly are a beauty, aren't you?" his voice was chilling, just as she had remembered. She glanced up, gasping for breath.
"A little warning, perhaps?" she offered sarcastically.
He didn't seem amused in the slightest. He grabbed her arm, his red eyes glowing, "You will be my wife soon, Mrs. Potter. And when you're my wife, you won't disrespect me."
"You have a good eighty years before I'll be single," she spat at him. Her spit went flying through the air and landed on the front of his black robes. He growled in anger, and pushed his wand flush against her throat.
"Do not do that again, beautiful."
"And if I do?" Aphrodite couldn't help but challenge. She knew, deep down, she was making this worse for herself, but the self-loathing of not fighting back before was causing her to fight back now. And while she couldn't get far, any distance would be better than this close.
His red eyes bore into hers as he flicked his wand, releasing her arm, "Crucio!"
Aphrodite screamed, the pain more intense than a thousand knives. She collapsed to her knees, causing them to painfully pulsate beneath her. Knives gouging her skin is all it felt like, from the inside and out. As the spell released, Aphrodite was once more gasping for breath. Of all the pain she had felt - through the war, through the ten years of motherhood - this was the worst.
"Cooperate or there will be a repeat," Lord Voldemort threatened. Seeing she could hardly move, he snapped his fingers and three elves appeared. "Take her to her quarters. See to it she doesn't leave."
"Yes, Master," one elf spoke. Hermione Granger would have been insulting him for just his use of house elf slaves, but Aphrodite couldn't find it in herself to come up with a comment. A shaky elf approached her and snapped its fingers. And then they were gone from the foyer of her prison. And she was thrust into the cell.
Just kind of came up with that right now, actually. Hope you look forward to it!
Daerwyn
No comments:
Post a Comment