Luna lines

Thank you very much.” I say with a wide smile on my face as the shopkeeper packs up the inkwell. I've always been attracted to antiques — things dating as far back as my birth. There's just something so rich and beautiful about the history of these items that I can't help but take them for myself. All my novels are usually historical fiction. My characters' love for each other transcending through time. I step out of the antiques shop, and I can't help but wonder why I haven't taken note of this shop before. I'm not too shocked though, considering the fact that I rarely leave my house. I'm always holed up inside my house. I breathe easier when I get closer to my house and realize that Josh is no longer anywhere close by. I don't waste any more time outside though, for fear that an evil bigger than Josh will jump out of the shadows and attack me. I lock the door behind me, rushing towards my writing desk where I carefully place the inkwell on top. I stare at it for a few minutes,

As I open my eyes once more, a sense of déjà vu overwhelms me. I’ve been in this position before—the disorientation, the dim light filtering through the blinds, the lingering scent of something metallic in the air. But this time, it’s different. The force that led to my losing consciousness feels like a distant memory, and all I can focus on is the sharp, cold clarity that now grips my mind.“How are you feeling?” Lucien’s voice cuts through the haze, a steady anchor in the storm of my thoughts. His tone is calm, but there’s an undercurrent of tension that makes me uneasy.“I—I don’t know,” I stammer, my voice small, fragile. It’s the first time I’ve felt truly unsure of my well-being since this whole ordeal started.Lucien moves closer, his presence comforting in the way a storm is both terrifying and awe-inspiring. His hands rest on my shoulders, the warmth of his touch grounding me as he gently pulls me into a sitting position. He hands me a glass of water, poured from the pitcher

I could see the silhouette of Lucien on the chair in my room. He was convinced my life was in danger, I was too. Earlier, after the strange sounds I heard on my front door he had refused to leave my side. He said they were watching, watching me, watching us.The thought of being watched sent unpleasant chills down my back, it made me feel anxious. I pulled the duvet above my shoulder to cover my face, like that was going to block their gaze from me but it wasn’t me they were after, they were after the ink well.If it was the ink well they were after and not me I had suggested to Lucien that I should just let them have it but he did not agree to my idea. He said something so powerful should not be left in the hands of evil, he had already told me what they intended to do with it. I couldn’t let that happen but I was too scared, how could I possibly fight against them.How did I get myself entangled in such a mess. Why did I go into the strange looking shop, why did I buy the

I was boiling with rage. I have had it with this place and their barbaric actions and non acceptance. I slammed the door of my house shut and limped to my writing desk, I was going to give them a taste of what they deserve.Without hesitation I drew out the pen from the Inkwell and started writing.I wrote little things like Mrs. Rose the flower shop owner for all her flowers to die, for John the baker all his pastries to burn, Juliet the moodiest for all her laces and organza’s to be stolen… I was pouring out all my pent out anger and frustration on the little piece of paper on my desk. I was starting to write things a little too wicked and it was unlike me, this wasn’t who I was, the disappearance of Lucien has taken a greater tow on me than I realized. I laid my head on my table and sobbed silently.I haven’t known Lucian long enough to feel this much pain but I guess a lonely girl could easily get attached to anyone who seemed available.I was really hoping that this past couple o

I blinked repeatedly before I finally opened my eyes. My head hurt real bad, it felt like there was a match pass going on in there. My entire body was aching and for a short moment I could not remember where I was. I don’t know how long I have been unconscious but I felt very weak.I started to remember everything that had happened before I passed out. The memory was still frightening but Lucian came and he saved me. Lucian, was he really there with me, was that just one of my dreams?I sat up on my bed in search of him. Just then he walked up to me.“You are finally awake. How are you doing, does your body hurt?”He asked in a hurry I could barely catch what he was saying.“Lucian”I tried saying but my throat was dry and it hurt in my attempt to speak and my voice cracked.“Hold on”He said then retreated to my bed side table and came back holding a glass of water. That wasn’t there before, he must have put it there in anticipation of me gaining consciousness. He handed the cup to