Living Hell: 'Daughters of the Night' (On-Hold) by Chloe Knox & TayTay2000 & Bookaholic25 (classic books for 13 year olds .txt) 📕
Naomi Thompson has very little memories of her past, before she was kidnapped by a mysterious creature and brought to Hell to live with Lucifer and his mistresses. But when she runs into a familiar face, on the night of her sixteenth birthday, she wonders if this mystery man has the key to her past and future. Maybe he can even help her escape...
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“Yeah. Just a nightmare.”
“The wendigo?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll go get you some water. Just relax, I’ll be back.”
“No! Aggie! I can get myself water, the least I could do for punching you in the eye!”
“It wasn’t a punch…it was a very hard slap.”
“Whatever,” I mumbled with a relieved smile, slowly standing on my wobbly legs.
Quietly I slid through the door and tiptoed my way down the barely lit halls and into the kitchen. I sifted through some cabinets till I found a glass cup and then sifted through another cabinet till I found a glass of wine. It was Monique’s stash. She was a bit of a drunk…okay, not really, but she likes her alcohol; wine, bourbon, rum, she had it all.
I stole a bottle of Japanese Cherry wine from the back and ran up stairs. Quickly I walked through the dark halls, trying my best not to wake up any of the other girls or any of Lucifer’s guards.
Just as I was rounding the corner, I collided into a hard chest falling on my butt and dropping both the wine glass and the bottle. Immediately glass shattered around me, red wine staining the tips of my white night gown.
My heart leapt into my throat making it hard to breathe as I looked at the stained rug and all the shards of sparkling clear glass.
“Oh no! Oh no! Oh no! Oh no!” I mumbled hurriedly, crouching on my knees and snaking my arms around the traumatized mess. I had to hurry. I had to clean this all up and get to my room before anyone noticed and just hope to god that no one heard me…wait? Who did I bump into?
The brunette from earlier today knelt down and began carefully picking up shards of glass, one by one. If he seriously wanted to help, the least he could do was hasten his pace. Like seriously? He might enjoy being tortured, but I’ve never EVER
angered Lucifer and for a good reason! I want to keep it that way!
“I’m sorry.”
“Whatever! Just go before anyone sees!” I mumbled, lifting the hem of my dress to make a small bowl like shape. With one hand I held the dress in place while with the other hand
I began to pick up more shards of glass and put them into the small bowl I’d made.
The brunette sighed, letting the glass pieces he collected fall into my lap, “I’m only trying to help. I’m repaying the favor.”
“What favor?” I asked with a glare, suddenly feeling anxious, angry, irritated. Not at him, but at myself, at the stupid bottle of wine and wineglass. Does the guy who created glass realize that because of his stupid invention I might be tied up and whipped? No! Of course not! Because no one ever thinks of those possibilities when they invent things! Stupid, stupid inventors!
"Today when my ass was about to get handed to me by our blonde friend?”
“Oh,” I mumbled suddenly remembering what he was talking about. I had convinced Lucifer not to bust open his…wait? He was a bit roughed up. Under his left green eye was a small bruise and there was a small cut on his bottom lip, “Doesn’t look like I helped you.”
“This?” he asked pointing to the shiner, I nodded, “Nah! That wasn’t you! I got this before I was brought here.”
“Ah,” I mumbled, then nodded, then thought, “Can I ask you something? What’s Hellboy?”
He let out a burst of amused breath as he ran a hand through his hair, “He’s a person in a movie.”
“Movie? What movie?”
“Well the movie’s called Hellboy.”
“I’ve never seen it.”
“Maybe that’s because you’ve been stuck down here most of your life.” That’s when my curiosity was peaked. It was one word, most
. If he had not said that one word, I’d shrug it off. But that one word meant something. It meant he knew I haven’t lived here my whole life, when everyone here but us ‘Daughters of the Night’ have.
I took that awkward moment of silence to take a good look at him. He too had a strong angled jaw line, like Lucifer’s yet somehow his seemed gentler, it was a softer angle. His hair was a faded chestnut brown and was a bit on the longer side, but not long enough to count it as that ‘Justin Bieber Bob’ that all the boys wore before I had started living down here. His hair was damp, suggesting that he either sweated a lot or had just gotten done taking a shower, and hanging in the way of his eyes. They were a light shade of olive green, which contrasted with his tan skin and dark hair, but didn’t make him look odd. Not at all! He was actually very cute…and familiar. There was just something about those goddamn eyes (sorry Lord) that made me immediately think that I knew him. But when I tried to put a name to his familiar features and I couldn’t.
A faint smile danced on his lips as he looked me up and down, “What?”
I shrugged, “I don’t know, I…I just keep thinking to myself that I know you…but that’s crazy. It’s not possible—“
“But you do.”
I froze, looking him in the eyes once more, “No!”
I quickly turned away from him and began to pick up the rest of the remaining shards of glass, “No! It’s not possible!”
“Yes it is!”
“No! No it’s-Ow!” I dropped the small shard the moment a small yet sharp pain stung the tip of bottom of my thumb. I turned my hand over, and looked at my thumb. There was a small cut on my finger, no larger than a ladybug or a fly. But it still hurt. No more than a bee sting, but it still hurt…I guess my mind can’t wander off insects…a single bead of blood dripped from the small battle wound.
“How is it I managed to cut myself with the smallest shard out of the whole entire freaking—“ I was interrupted, but this time not by pain. This time it was by mystery man’s mouth.
While I was talking he had grabbed my hand and actually stuck my thumb in between his lips. He sucked on it a quick moment, licking my wound, then removed my hand from his mouth and held it in front of me as if he were giving me a gift or returning a belonging of mine, which technically it was but…what the hell? (No pun intended)
“What…? What was that? What are you a vampire?”
The man shrugged as if he hadn’t literally just sucked on my thumb like it was a freakin pacifier, “No.”
"That’s disgusting,” I mumbled as I whiped my thumb on my dress and ran back downstairs to carefully and as quietly as possible throw away the broken glass.
I turned and wam! There was mystery man! Only inches from my face, making me yelp and wince, “Jesus, what is your problem? You’re going to scare me to death, or worse! You’ll get us caught!”
“Look, we need to talk!”
“No we don’t! And let go of me!” I whispered as harshly as I could, yanking my arm away from his hand. I slid past him and ran upstairs with a cloth that I had found in the kitchen.
I put the cloth over the stain of red wine on the red carpet. It both amazed and angered me how well the wine was actually showing up on the carpet...BOTH ARE THE SAME COLOR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
“You might want to actually apply pressure to the towel, and not just glare at it!” Mystery man mumbled from behind me making me jump, yet again. God, this guy was really starting to get annoying!
“Why thank you, Martha Stewart, for that very helpful domestic maintenance tip.”
“Nick.” He suddenly burst out confusing the crap out of me, “What?”
“My name’s not Martha Stewart. It’s Nick…well its Nicholas, most people call me Nicki, but you always called me Nick.”
I always called him…? And that’s when a flash of my nightmares hit me in the face, making me gasp.
The little girl—-me—-in my reoccurring dream? Every time she’d see that scary Wendigo, she’d call for help! Help me, Nick! Help me!
NICK?!
I looked at him, and glared, trying to remember this Nick kid. I tried to remember why I knew him, what he was like, but there was nothing…I could never be sure if this Nick, was the real Nick, that I knew. I mean really, Nick isn’t exactly a unique name. And even if it was him…he let me go…he let that thing, that creature take me here. He didn’t save me! He killed me! Killed me of my innocence, my childhood, my normal life! HE RUINED MY LIFE!
Tears stung my vision, infuriating my body with hot anger that burned to my core. I picked up the cloth—-the only weapon I could find—-and threw it, hitting him in the chest.
Nick didn’t move or even waver, just let it hit his chest and then fall to the ground, “Stay away from me!”
Without looking back, I stormed off into my room ignoring Agatha’s incessant questions.
“What happened? Are you okay? I heard a ruckus. There was a slight smash, and a few yelps! What’s a matter?”
“Nothing! Just go to bed!” I mumbled the best I could, trying to hide the tears.
Agatha nodded, and didn’t speak. Usually when I was upset, I’d talk to her…but she knew this time was different, so she didn’t bug and bug about it. She just climbed into bed next to me and did the best she could to
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