Lahat ng Kabanata ng Two Kings for Ellie : Kabanata 11 - Kabanata 20

Ellie For 21 years of my life, I've had that book with me. It was gifted to me by the vampire king, the man I dreaded the most deep down. I read it word for word. I read it to heart. During the times of my childhood, I read it as bedtime stories; reading it calmed my mourning soul. It helped me find the right paths of love even after having to lose my parents, the only ones I thought that cared about us. It led me to Murray, the man who found me wandering in the Pack's library in search of more books to read. He offered it to me at my lowest point in my life when I felt all hope was lost. When I felt lost. And ever since then, I have gathered more books that speak of the Royalties and their sophistication. It had a lot of history and cultures of the Royalties. Which I felt was totally true until I began to tell Isla about the whole compelling stuff. It was the first time in 21 years I was meeting with him after the consecration of Shirlon’s temple. I would have had my heart burst out

Ellie It was a heavy downpour on a cloudy night. It grew rapidly in straight, silvery steel rods. It clattered onto the ground and onto the roofs of several houses as I walked by. The thunder roared furiously as electrifying lightning zipped over the night sky, then settled to a softer, continuous rumble, which was absorbed by the sound of the rain. I stood in front of a dark alley, drenched in the heavy rain, wondering how fast my cold feet could keep up with the trudge. The smell of wet earth fills my nose. I decided to take a shortcut to get myself back to the Pack house. I have to be at the Pack house before Eamonn gets to the Pack house. So, I began walking into the alley; the wet wall looked like it would close up on me. Goosebumps appeared on my skin as I rubbed on my arms. “Oh, what a steamy bath I will get once I'm home,” I thought to myself in the spine-chilling cold. I had gotten to the middle of the alley when I heard footsteps from a distance behind. I stopped in my

Ellie I sat up from the bed, rubbing my eyes with the back of my palm, and then squinted my eyes to see this image in front of me clearer, “Where's Isla?” Was the question I asked after taking a moment to stare at the naked corpse that took my image. It was her I first thought of, I mean, before I fed from a certain human and was put to sleep by the witch, I can remember Isla asking if she was the one to be used for Murray's strange cooked up story. I glanced at Manny for a reply, but instead of offering me a once tangible answer, she asked with a cocky smile, “Do you like the masterpiece?” I looked at her like she was speaking, I just woke up from a horrific dream and I'm taking on another ride of horror in real life and the least she could do not to give me a death scare was to ask if the blood-stained corpse lying with a hole in her chest was a nice piece of art. Wait, did she do this? “Manny, is this what your doing?” I asked the still smiling old lady, I've known her for just t

Isla A sudden chill ran down my spine, and I dipped my sweaty palms into the pocket of the brown leather jacket. The air frizzles my black curly hair into my face, blocking me from seeing properly, so I flip it back and pinned it beside my ear. I took my other hand out and rubbed both on my pair of black leather pants. Maybe in the attempt to rub off the anxiousness that I felt. I haven't quite grown out of this nervousness after all. The thoughts of what-ifs replayed in my head as they had before I and Murray got to the huge gate of the fortress we called ‘Pack House.’ What if the Pack doesn't believe this whole story? I'm now asking the same question Ellie asked; I even reassured her, but now everything is about to unfold, it's beginning to get scarier than the last second. What if they find out where we've hidden her? What if they come to end it all? To kill her. I'm glad in all my nervousness, no one could smell it from my mournful state. My eyes blistered with tears in

Eamonn “Get me more blades.” A few meters from me was a dartboard that was stationed on the opposite wall from where I stood tipsy. I eyed the spot that I had targeted correctly a couple of times since I started throwing knives at it. There were already four knives stuck to the middle of the dartboard. The actual darts I was to use to throw at the dartboard sat prettily on the wall cabinet beside it. The blade sticking to the dashboard looks just perfect at the very spot. I felt my blood boil hot this morning. It's not because of the heat in the room that I had locked myself inside; it is the feeling of anger surging through me. The protector who I had instructed to get more knives for me came back with three more, saying it was the last of them from where he got them from, he went ahead to resume his post as I had ordered thereafter. I took one of the three he held and glared at the dashboard, toying with the flat surface with my index finger. The loud and chaotic voices in my he