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haebinHey hey, it is Sunday again and that means it is time for a new chapter. I hope you'll enjoy it! And thank you so, so much for reading. You have seriously no idea how much this means to me!!
Chapter I - Chapter II - Chapter III - Chapter IV - Chapter V - Chapter VI - Chapter VII - Chapter VIII - Chapter IX - Chapter X - Chapter XI - Chapter XII - Chapter XIII - Chapter XIV - Chapter XV - Chapter XVI - Chapter XVII - Chapter XVIII - Chapter XVIV
DON'T YOU DARE TO RUN AWAY FROM ME, WHORE!
Anwyn hurriedly glanced over her shoulder but apart from the darkness, the shadows and the threat within, she could see nothing and no one. Yet she sensed the danger that was at her heels, she knew of the pain and suffering that would await her if she was unable to escape.
Panicked, she tried to find a way in the darkness through the confines of the ... forest? Was this a forest? Was it low-hanging branches that brushed against her body? Was she struggling through dense bushes that prevented her from making progress?
Anwyn could see nothing, not even her own hand in front of her eyes, and stumbled through the dense, impenetrable darkness, filled with fear. The sound of her own breathing and the loud pounding of her heart rushed in her ears, as loud as the crashing waves of the sea on the steep coast of the Blackwater country.
She ran straight ahead, hands outstretched to avoid bumping into something unknown, when she felt something or someone touch her arm. Anwyn flinched in fright, lost her balance and stumbled a few steps before finally falling to the ground. Her hands touched something soft, warm... damp.
Anwyn felt the sobs rising in her throat and tried to get up, but her feet sank into the unknown ground, preventing her from escaping.
Where was she? In a forest, a moor, had she lost her way, had she been brought here? Why couldn't she see anything? Why didn't she know what had happened?
You can't escape me, Anwyn.
The dark, menacing voice was so close to her ear, so close that she could feel the heat of the lips on her skin and Anwyn screamed. Panic surged through her body, her mouth went dry, her throat became so tight that she felt as if she would suffocate in the next moment.
"No, no, no," she whispered in fear and tried to sit up. She tried to find a foothold on the floor with her fingers, but Anwyn suddenly reached into an almost viscous liquid that was also clearly trying to pull her down. Was this water?
Anwyn tried desperately to fight her way through the slimy liquid, but the more she moved, the deeper she sank. Just a hand's breadth more and she would completely sink into it.
And then the realization hit her as she recognized the metallic, sweet and heavy smell.
Blood.
Anwyn heard the scream that erupted from her own throat as if from far away when she suddenly felt something grab the back of her neck. Something sharp pressed against it and Anwyn felt an unbearable pain as the unknown thing pierced the skin of her throat, violently tearing the flesh to shreds, severing muscles, nerves and arteries.
Anwyn became aware of the tears pricking at the corner of her eyes when she felt the warm blood pouring out of her.
Did you ever think you could escape from me?
A whisper close to her face, a demonic grin that she could not see but could still feel.
Just like the hot breath of the stranger who pressed his lips to hers and absorbed the rest of her, drinking her essence, feasting on her life.
The world around Anwyn became darker, blurred until she could only see the glow of yellow eyes, like amber, and she disappeared into the depths of the night.
Anwyn awoke with a gasp, her heart racing as if it wanted to burst her chest, her body drenched in cold sweat, her breath hitching. A sob was on her lips.
She threw off the thick fur that threatened to crush her, stumbling from her camp through the darkness until she reached the door, which she tore open in panic. The coolness of the night was almost comforting to Anwyn, but she was unable to calm herself. More uncertain steps followed, stumbling slightly, until Anwyn felt the sand of the beach beneath her feet.
All strength left her and she sank to her knees, whereupon she vomited with sobs.
Anwyn didn't know how much time had passed since she had knelt here on the sand, her arms wrapped around her torso and staring into the darkness. Exhausted, she turned her gaze to the east and realized that the sky was slowly brightening. From far away, she heard a single wolf howling, probably in search of a mate.
Anwyn rubbed her eyes with the fingers of her right hand and slowly rose to her feet. A tremor ran through her body and she froze under the clammy fabric of her night robe.
But instead of heading back to the safety of the house, Anwyn made her way to the spring. The still faint light of the half moon showed Anwyn the way.
When Anwyn reached the quietly bubbling spring, she stopped, took a deep breath, stripped off her night robe and underwear and stepped into the cold water.
The spring poured into a two-man-wide riverbed that reached her shoulders at its deepest point. Anwyn walked to the point where the water reached her knees and lowered herself until she was sitting on the bottom, her knees pulled to her chest and her arms wrapped around them. She rested her chin on her folded upper arms and closed her eyes, exhausted, as the cold water flowed around her body.
It was so cold and Anwyn froze so much that her muscles tensed and her body gave the signal to warm up, causing her to shiver and her teeth to clench.
Still, the cold and the numbness gave her a feeling of comfort, as it allowed her to focus on it and lessen the helpless and panicked feeling of the nightmare.
Lost in thought, she ran her hands over her forearms, then over her knees and shins until she was almost manically rubbing every inch of her body under the water.
As the feeling of threat increased again, Anwyn remembered the dark, almost evil-sounding voice and its words, she felt the rising sobs in her throat that she could not suppress.
She began to cry as she tried to remove the feeling of this creature's grasp from her skin by pressing her palms hard over and over again. She didn't realize that she was scratching her skin bloody with her fingernails until her tears slowly subsided.
But as soon as she closed her eyes, she saw the hopeless look in Sera's sad eyes, saw the wounds on her body, knew that this young girl, who felt she had only just outgrown her childhood, was carrying a fruit that had grown from the desire to abuse power.
If Sera survived the abortion of the fruit, what would happen next for her? How long would it be before this beast would impregnate her again and she would have no choice but another abortion or an inevitable future on the streets of Blackwater Bay in abject poverty and at the mercy of all the dangers? How many times would she have to endure beatings, bites, whippings, humiliations in the future?
Anwyn rubbed her eyes again, exhausted, and tried desperately to find a solution for Sera. Would it be possible to take her in? Now that they had come into some wealth, they wouldn't really need help, but the young maid could give her and her father a hand. She could give Sera a safe place if the stranger's threat to murder her family didn't hang over the young girl like a sword of Damocles. And the wounds Anwyn had seen on her made it clear that her tormentor would carry out this threat in bloody fashion.
Should she turn to Trálír, tell him about the suffering this girl was going through? Was she allowed to pass on the knowledge entrusted to her with the risk that the man who did this to her would find out and continue to torture her? Who was it and what position was he in? Would it even be possible for Trálír to intervene? And what would happen if the tormentor managed to escape and took revenge on Sera first?
Would Anwyn's interference mean Sera's death? And if she did not interfere, what future would await the young maiden?
No matter how many questions Anwyn asked herself, no matter what options opened up to her, there was no way that Sera would not end up worse off than she was at the moment.
It was hopeless and Anwyn gave up, depressed. She dipped her hands into the water, shaping them to hold the cool water inside and wiped the tears from her face.
Freezing and shivering all over, she rose from the riverbed and realized that the sky was already fully illuminated.
She quickly slipped back into her clothes and then walked back towards the house. When she opened the door, she looked straight into the tired-looking face of her father, who was looking at her with concern.
Anwyn stood in the doorway for a moment, not knowing what to do or how to interpret her father's look. She turned her face away and slumped down on her bed, thinking that she would change her damp clothes when her father made his way to the spring to wash himself as well. But he didn't move a step, just stared at her in silence.
"Anwyn, is something bothering you?" His voice was quiet and his daughter looked at him in surprise. She hadn't expected a normal conversation to be possible between them after all the disagreements they'd had over the last few days and weeks.
"No," she replied, barely audible, and she shook her head.
"Hm."
Doran took a step closer and cocked his head to the side to get a better look at her.
"Have you been crying, child?"
"I was just having a nightmare, Father. There's nothing for you to worry about."
The old fisherman nodded hesitantly.
"But if something is bothering you, then ..." He broke off and took a long, deep breath, as if he needed to find the courage to continue. "I know that we've barely exchanged a word with each other in the last few weeks. Nevertheless, I want you to know that you can always come to me if something is bothering you."
Anwyn sensed that these words did not come easily from her father's lips and nodded slowly.
"Thank you for your words, Father," she replied and smiled faintly. Doran returned the smile carefully and then turned to the door through which he stepped to leave the house.
Anwyn felt tears gathering in the corners of her eyes once more, which finally slipped down her pale cheeks with a quiet sob that slipped over her lips.
Chapter I - Chapter II - Chapter III - Chapter IV - Chapter V - Chapter VI - Chapter VII - Chapter VIII - Chapter IX - Chapter X - Chapter XI - Chapter XII - Chapter XIII - Chapter XIV - Chapter XV - Chapter XVI - Chapter XVII - Chapter XVIII - Chapter XVIV
DON'T YOU DARE TO RUN AWAY FROM ME, WHORE!
Anwyn hurriedly glanced over her shoulder but apart from the darkness, the shadows and the threat within, she could see nothing and no one. Yet she sensed the danger that was at her heels, she knew of the pain and suffering that would await her if she was unable to escape.
Panicked, she tried to find a way in the darkness through the confines of the ... forest? Was this a forest? Was it low-hanging branches that brushed against her body? Was she struggling through dense bushes that prevented her from making progress?
Anwyn could see nothing, not even her own hand in front of her eyes, and stumbled through the dense, impenetrable darkness, filled with fear. The sound of her own breathing and the loud pounding of her heart rushed in her ears, as loud as the crashing waves of the sea on the steep coast of the Blackwater country.
She ran straight ahead, hands outstretched to avoid bumping into something unknown, when she felt something or someone touch her arm. Anwyn flinched in fright, lost her balance and stumbled a few steps before finally falling to the ground. Her hands touched something soft, warm... damp.
Anwyn felt the sobs rising in her throat and tried to get up, but her feet sank into the unknown ground, preventing her from escaping.
Where was she? In a forest, a moor, had she lost her way, had she been brought here? Why couldn't she see anything? Why didn't she know what had happened?
You can't escape me, Anwyn.
The dark, menacing voice was so close to her ear, so close that she could feel the heat of the lips on her skin and Anwyn screamed. Panic surged through her body, her mouth went dry, her throat became so tight that she felt as if she would suffocate in the next moment.
"No, no, no," she whispered in fear and tried to sit up. She tried to find a foothold on the floor with her fingers, but Anwyn suddenly reached into an almost viscous liquid that was also clearly trying to pull her down. Was this water?
Anwyn tried desperately to fight her way through the slimy liquid, but the more she moved, the deeper she sank. Just a hand's breadth more and she would completely sink into it.
And then the realization hit her as she recognized the metallic, sweet and heavy smell.
Blood.
Anwyn heard the scream that erupted from her own throat as if from far away when she suddenly felt something grab the back of her neck. Something sharp pressed against it and Anwyn felt an unbearable pain as the unknown thing pierced the skin of her throat, violently tearing the flesh to shreds, severing muscles, nerves and arteries.
Anwyn became aware of the tears pricking at the corner of her eyes when she felt the warm blood pouring out of her.
Did you ever think you could escape from me?
A whisper close to her face, a demonic grin that she could not see but could still feel.
Just like the hot breath of the stranger who pressed his lips to hers and absorbed the rest of her, drinking her essence, feasting on her life.
The world around Anwyn became darker, blurred until she could only see the glow of yellow eyes, like amber, and she disappeared into the depths of the night.
Anwyn awoke with a gasp, her heart racing as if it wanted to burst her chest, her body drenched in cold sweat, her breath hitching. A sob was on her lips.
She threw off the thick fur that threatened to crush her, stumbling from her camp through the darkness until she reached the door, which she tore open in panic. The coolness of the night was almost comforting to Anwyn, but she was unable to calm herself. More uncertain steps followed, stumbling slightly, until Anwyn felt the sand of the beach beneath her feet.
All strength left her and she sank to her knees, whereupon she vomited with sobs.
Anwyn didn't know how much time had passed since she had knelt here on the sand, her arms wrapped around her torso and staring into the darkness. Exhausted, she turned her gaze to the east and realized that the sky was slowly brightening. From far away, she heard a single wolf howling, probably in search of a mate.
Anwyn rubbed her eyes with the fingers of her right hand and slowly rose to her feet. A tremor ran through her body and she froze under the clammy fabric of her night robe.
But instead of heading back to the safety of the house, Anwyn made her way to the spring. The still faint light of the half moon showed Anwyn the way.
When Anwyn reached the quietly bubbling spring, she stopped, took a deep breath, stripped off her night robe and underwear and stepped into the cold water.
The spring poured into a two-man-wide riverbed that reached her shoulders at its deepest point. Anwyn walked to the point where the water reached her knees and lowered herself until she was sitting on the bottom, her knees pulled to her chest and her arms wrapped around them. She rested her chin on her folded upper arms and closed her eyes, exhausted, as the cold water flowed around her body.
It was so cold and Anwyn froze so much that her muscles tensed and her body gave the signal to warm up, causing her to shiver and her teeth to clench.
Still, the cold and the numbness gave her a feeling of comfort, as it allowed her to focus on it and lessen the helpless and panicked feeling of the nightmare.
Lost in thought, she ran her hands over her forearms, then over her knees and shins until she was almost manically rubbing every inch of her body under the water.
As the feeling of threat increased again, Anwyn remembered the dark, almost evil-sounding voice and its words, she felt the rising sobs in her throat that she could not suppress.
She began to cry as she tried to remove the feeling of this creature's grasp from her skin by pressing her palms hard over and over again. She didn't realize that she was scratching her skin bloody with her fingernails until her tears slowly subsided.
But as soon as she closed her eyes, she saw the hopeless look in Sera's sad eyes, saw the wounds on her body, knew that this young girl, who felt she had only just outgrown her childhood, was carrying a fruit that had grown from the desire to abuse power.
If Sera survived the abortion of the fruit, what would happen next for her? How long would it be before this beast would impregnate her again and she would have no choice but another abortion or an inevitable future on the streets of Blackwater Bay in abject poverty and at the mercy of all the dangers? How many times would she have to endure beatings, bites, whippings, humiliations in the future?
Anwyn rubbed her eyes again, exhausted, and tried desperately to find a solution for Sera. Would it be possible to take her in? Now that they had come into some wealth, they wouldn't really need help, but the young maid could give her and her father a hand. She could give Sera a safe place if the stranger's threat to murder her family didn't hang over the young girl like a sword of Damocles. And the wounds Anwyn had seen on her made it clear that her tormentor would carry out this threat in bloody fashion.
Should she turn to Trálír, tell him about the suffering this girl was going through? Was she allowed to pass on the knowledge entrusted to her with the risk that the man who did this to her would find out and continue to torture her? Who was it and what position was he in? Would it even be possible for Trálír to intervene? And what would happen if the tormentor managed to escape and took revenge on Sera first?
Would Anwyn's interference mean Sera's death? And if she did not interfere, what future would await the young maiden?
No matter how many questions Anwyn asked herself, no matter what options opened up to her, there was no way that Sera would not end up worse off than she was at the moment.
It was hopeless and Anwyn gave up, depressed. She dipped her hands into the water, shaping them to hold the cool water inside and wiped the tears from her face.
Freezing and shivering all over, she rose from the riverbed and realized that the sky was already fully illuminated.
She quickly slipped back into her clothes and then walked back towards the house. When she opened the door, she looked straight into the tired-looking face of her father, who was looking at her with concern.
Anwyn stood in the doorway for a moment, not knowing what to do or how to interpret her father's look. She turned her face away and slumped down on her bed, thinking that she would change her damp clothes when her father made his way to the spring to wash himself as well. But he didn't move a step, just stared at her in silence.
"Anwyn, is something bothering you?" His voice was quiet and his daughter looked at him in surprise. She hadn't expected a normal conversation to be possible between them after all the disagreements they'd had over the last few days and weeks.
"No," she replied, barely audible, and she shook her head.
"Hm."
Doran took a step closer and cocked his head to the side to get a better look at her.
"Have you been crying, child?"
"I was just having a nightmare, Father. There's nothing for you to worry about."
The old fisherman nodded hesitantly.
"But if something is bothering you, then ..." He broke off and took a long, deep breath, as if he needed to find the courage to continue. "I know that we've barely exchanged a word with each other in the last few weeks. Nevertheless, I want you to know that you can always come to me if something is bothering you."
Anwyn sensed that these words did not come easily from her father's lips and nodded slowly.
"Thank you for your words, Father," she replied and smiled faintly. Doran returned the smile carefully and then turned to the door through which he stepped to leave the house.
Anwyn felt tears gathering in the corners of her eyes once more, which finally slipped down her pale cheeks with a quiet sob that slipped over her lips.
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