Black Water Joyce Carol Oates の小説・ストーリー

Was. It had begun to drizzle, the cold droplets landing softly on my skin and the ground beneath our feet, gently splashing rain drops and dirt together in a way that smelled like earth and endings. I clenched my jaw and told him about the Black Rose. I told him that I'd gone deep, too deep, and that I couldn't go back to the NHPD. I think I broke my oath, I told him, and I don't know what's wrong with me. I should have definitely listened to his advice and not delved in deeper, I told him. I couldn't help it because it was killing me inside, eating away at me piece by piece until there was nothing left but this obsession.

The air grew colder with every step and the oozing black substance seemed to pulse, as if it had a heartbeat. Liora stopped a few feet from the black pool. The sense of despair was overwhelming, it whispered to her of futility, of the pointlessness of fighting, of the sweet release of just giving in to the darkness. She closed her eyes. "Okay," she whispered. "Now." She reached out with her mind and touched the blackness.

I say darkly. We start leaving the area, intent on heading back to Chicago. I need to go home and wash this disgusting place off of me. At that moment, we hear the mournful screams of a woman. The pain she is in, and the wailing sounds cause the entire forest to go quiet. Out of nowhere, the sky turns pitch black, thunder cracks, rain pours harder than anything I have ever seen. If the rain pours any more it will cause a flood in the mountains. She sounds insane with grief.

The path she took went deeper into the woods, where the trees grew thick and old, their gnarled roots twisting across the ground like coiled serpents. The night air was colder here, the silence broken only by the low croak of frogs and the faint rustle of unseen creatures. She clutched her shawl tighter as she walked, her eyes darting around every few steps. The moonlight guided her through the narrow trail until, at last, the trees parted—and there it was. The Black Waters. It wasn't truly black, not in the way the stories said. By moonlight, it shimmered dark silver, calm and almost beautiful. But beneath that calm surface, the water ran deep and dangerous, its bottom lost to time and silt

“I stared at the girl who enticed me deeply. Though her clothes were wet because of the water that dripped from the clay pot on her head, she looked so beautiful. She resembles my dear late Nana, of whom I first saw the beauty of a black woman. She looked like a black angel. She had a portion of her plaited hair bound by a red ribbon, while the rest, fell about her arms, and even reached her waist. I have never seen a black woman with such an abundance of fine hair in my lifetime. She walked like a cat. I admire her more than any damsel I have ever seen. As fate happens, she turned around, and stared back at me. Our eyes met, her hazel-coloured eyes left me entranced, so I fell. Her pot of

Had I been able to feel my lips, I might’ve forced the words into reality. In the darkness three orbs of light appeared, shimmering like small moons. They circled me, embraced me, danced around me in an explosion of emotion. Relief, sorrow, hope, joy, anger, passion so consuming it lifted the very foundation of my soul. Wake up, Blakely Yarrow. Open your eyes and see what you have become. _ _ _ _ _ ­_ _

The day in Blackwater dawned with a grayish tone, as if the sky itself were heavy with bad omens. Helena Moore tried to focus on her household chores, seeking a sense of normality that the prophecy and the heat of Dante had rendered obsolete. However, the sound of a luxurious engine, unfamiliar to the town, reverberating through the gravel of the river road, made her blood freeze instantly.

My stomach is tight, my mind still tangled in knots, but I force myself to focus on the road ahead. I pull back onto the highway, the truck humming steadily as I push forward. The sky is shifting, the last traces of daylight slipping beneath the horizon, leaving the world in deep purples and blues. The sun sets behind me, casting long shadows across the road, and in the distance, Blackwater slowly comes into view. It’s the moment I’ve been waiting for, the end of the drive, the end of the search. Blackwater is home. It always has been. But as the familiar outline of the pack grounds grows closer, I can’t shake the feeling that maybe… maybe the search isn’t really over.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Richard. Mrs. Abner is a smart woman.” Carol was no idiot. She knew that she could not win against the might of the Black family. … Richard left with his sons, and Myka came in. Her hair was a mess, and the moment she came in, she removed her jacket to reveal that she was wearing pajamas with pig prints. “God, I’m thirsty. Give me water.” Sirius gave her a glass of water. When he saw her gulping it down like a man dying of thirst in the desert, he said, “Slow down. You’ll end up choking.”

***** [RAY Point-of-View] The sky was gray, and the clouds were heavy. It was as if everything was black and white in my life as I stared down at a grave with an empty heart. My throat was thick and sore and my eyes were puffy. The rest of the week, I stayed wasted and didn’t want to do anything with my life. As she lay six feet underneath, my heart was buried along with her cold and lifeless body. There was nothing left in me but the wonderful memories I had with her. Memories that will surely haunt me forever.