The Lion of Eomar by Eric K, Hasler (sight word books .TXT) 📕

started to bring a swimming feeling to her head. Then she realized that her sniffing had gotten out of control; every breath was a deep nasal intake of the fragrance which helped the dizzy swimming feeling produce sweat beads. 'What are you doing?' she said to herself, 'get away from this mess!' She tried to get to her feet but found that she had become fastened to the spot. Her arms and legs wouldn't respond, she couldn't move her head to the left, right, or even up towards the night sky which was beginning to become dominated by Dazbog. Her eyes widened, and a tear leaked from the left. She tried to retract her tongue, and failed. All the strength within her was quickly sapping away in the fight to reject the voice, and the awesome smelling blood.

Taste the blood... Daughter the voice sounded almost vicious, almost desperate, and without compassion. A feeling of something like hands shrouded her head, very large hands, which took hold of the back of her head and then pushed her face into the puddle. Again she tried to retract her tongue and found that she couldn't; it felt as if two fingers had clamped around it denying its return to her orifice, but instead guided it along the puddle, lapping up a large amount of blood, and then released. The tongue sprung back into her mouth and she unwittingly swallowed the payload with a gulp. The shaking and dizzy swimming sensation stopped, the sweat on her forehead stopped as new warmth appeared deep within her stomach and started to spread through to her muscles. She raised her haed towards the early morning sky and saw a colouring that hadn't been apparent before. The blackness looked more like an army, which consisted of many different types of creatures, not one of them looked the same. Her ears picked up sounds like never before, and as she looked at the black army she could hear screams, and orders being shouted as the army fought desperately to hold back the light. She lowered her head and looked around the alley. Everything looked different. The walls had patches of bright glowing colours shinning through the dirt. The cobblestones looked to be a dark green with an orangey tint lightly sprinkled over top. Everything had a repulsive stink to it, the walls, the shops, the cobblestones, everything except for the blood. She leaned forward, stuck out her tongue, giggled as her hair fell into the puddle first, and took a long deep lick, retracked her tongue, shuddered, and then went back for seconds; then thirds, and fourths. Her mind started to expand and memories from the past invaded. Like the time when she and Bodwin had broken into The Fallen Vagabond and stole two bottles of Doogal's wine. She took another lick while reminiscing with the feeling that had come after she had drunken half a bottle. The feeling of fearlessness, joy, and the passion both she and Bodwin had experienced together for the first time that night. She took another lick, smiled at the close resemblance of being drunk on wine and the euphoric feeling the blood was bringing on.

Learning forward for another lick, she noticed an eerie orangey glow sneak up from behind. Spinning her head around, she saw six figures bunched together and bathed in the light from fire torches.

“Stay right where you are!” growled a deep voice. She turned around to face the group and sat in a crouch with her knees sticking out to the left and right with her hands planted firmly between them on the cobblestones. As the biggest of the bunch took a step forward she opened her mouth and released an alarmingly high pitched cackle, which seemed to be enhanced by the alley walls creating a cacophony of cackles resembling that of ten voices. She jumped to her feet, turned and ran deeper into the alley where she proceeded to become lost in the lingering shadows leaving the cacophony behind.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Publication Date: 03-12-2015

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