Face Of Book Novels & Stories

(Continuing at the Valois river estate, with Day 30 closing in.) The bookshelf moved. Not the polite kind of movement, either. Not the gentle shiver of an old house settling. This was a slow scrape, deliberate, like someone was pushing a secret open from the other side. I stood there with a bowl of fruit in my hands, because apparently that was my chosen weapon today. The gap widened. A thin slice of darkness appeared. Cold air breathed out. Then a face slid into view.

The lantern at the end of the hall blazed with warm golden light. For the first time... the shadow hiding the Last Editor's face disappeared. Adrian looked into his eyes... and froze. The face staring back at him was strangely familiar. Not his own. Not the First Author's. But someone whose portrait had appeared for only a heartbeat... inside the Black Book itself. The Last Editor whispered one final sentence. "So..." "You finally remember me." The White Book suddenly opened on its own. Across every page... only one name appeared. ELIAS.

Two white wolves face the sunrise. I peel my cheek from the pages of the massive book sprawled across my desk, blinking into the soft glow of the sun pouring through the window. The tan stone walls and crappy wood furniture come into view, replacing another vision of dense forests and moonlit plains. “Shit,” I whisper, running my hand over my face, then through my hair as I blink down at the book. What had I been doing? Oh, right. Studying for an upcoming exam about the Rosetta people.

I didn't have to search for him, he was the only one with a face structured like a koala; his eyes were radiantly twinkling as usual, while he read a book in front of him. He used the usual sitting position he used even in the classroom — he slumped backwards while one knee was crossed over the other, with just a small publishing of a wrinkle across his forehead. My eyes glowed with innocence as they fell on every part of David's face. My heart quickly skipped a beat when I instantly toured David's parted, red lips. "Succulent!" I hissed silently, whilst I began shuffling over to his direction.

Don't they dare tell me that they did some unimaginable things to my body. “You didn't do anything to me right?” Just as always, no response or even a simple expression to give me. Lucah had his usual poker face. You could almost tell that this guy's like a robot programmed to have no expressions at all. So, I just turned to face the guy who had his face in front of a book.

He was eagerly looking towards her, urging with his eyes that she get up and follow the group back into the library. Katalea stood, it was time to see what all the fuss was about. They stood in a circle around Luca, who donned medical gloves that stopped at the elbow. He reached into the glass case that housed the book and before he could attempt to open the book, the front page fell open, revealing an ornate depiction of an old robbed man with a staff. He had a long gray beard, braided down his chest, and weather-beaten skin hidden mostly beneath his tattered and layered robe. His blue eyes leapt off the page imploring the reader to inquire further. Or perhaps run away. Katalea wasn’t

"Well, it's... It's hard to explain, the book explains it all." "Is it interesting?" She asked looking at the book cover, it was of a young teenager holding a lamp in what looked to be a dark cave, a bat was hanging of his hands and an old witch was behind him. "It looks interesting," She muttered. "It is," He assured. She nodded her head with a small smile and placed her iPods in back, resting her head back against the car seats, she closed her eyes.

That was exactly why she had stubbornly believed my injuries were nothing more than surface wounds. In her mind, it had only been a small lesson. How could something like that possibly lead to someone laying such a heavy hand on me? The officer’s face darkened. Without hesitation, he ordered his team to bring in the person Mom had named. The man’s name was Lenny Hill, a well-known street thug in the area. When they dragged him in, he didn’t look nervous at all. If anything, he seemed oddly composed, as if none of this concerned him.

The girl said. “Same here. I actually thought that this book wasn’t popular but you’re reading it as well. Oh, I’m Kayne by the way, Kayne David.” “I’m Natsumi Koga, it’s nice to meet you!” “Ah yes, you as well. I was actually about to ask if you always come here.” Kayne asked. “Uhuh, I always go to this café every time I go to town, this is actually kind of my spot, haha.”

She had to be careful with it in case the pages shattered on contact with her skin. She set the book down carefully on the floor and wiped the dust from the front. Immediately, she jumped in shock. There, on the cover, was the same image she’d seen on her grandma’s leather box, and in the Voynich manuscript. Only this time the strange face on the front of the book wasn’t so surreal—it was as clear as day. It was an image of Scarlet’s face.