Novel & Cerita The Edge Of Never

POV RUBY The armored vehicle hummed with a low, predatory vibration as we crossed the border of the county, leaving the burning remains of the O’Shea legacy behind. For three hours, Nevan hadn't spoken. His hands were fused to the steering wheel, his knuckles white, his eyes scanning every shadow on the highway like a wolf sensing a trap. The adrenaline that had fueled my frantic escape was beginning to ebb, replaced by a hollow, aching exhaustion that settled deep in my marrow.

"I haven't been eating properly. It'll correct itself." "In that man's house." "Mum." "I'm not starting anything." Neva came to stand beside her at the glass. For a moment neither of them spoke. The city moved below them, indifferent and constant. "I just need to say one thing and then I won't say it again." Corinna closed her eyes briefly. "Say it."

It's clean and organized. I saw a human-size mirror. I asked my mom many times but she refused that I'll break. So I took the advantage and stood in front of the mirror and took many selfies. There was a study table with a lot of books and a laptop lying on that with a night lamp. I saw many comic books on his shelf. I never knew he was an addict. Because I spotted the "Tower of God" up to its last month edition. I wandered around for some time and took my phone to pass the time till he comes.

Mack and Nezerra carefully watched their footing as they stepped in behind the water fall. There was no entrance into any cave as far as they could tell. Mack was sure they had hit a dead end when he let out a blood curling scream and punched the wall. Nezerra noticed ripples in the wall when Mack punched it and asked him to do that again. This time there was nothing. “I could have sworn I saw something when you punched it.” He tells him, as Mack steps closer to the wall. “I think you might be right. There is a perfect edge here. A perfectly smooth edge.” Mack tells him.

The edgy contact excites me. I wonder what he's doing right now, who he's with. Is he thinking about me? I move the blade to the center part of my hand now making small cuts there. I welcome the pleasure in the pain it brings. It's different from the emotional pain that I've now gotten used to. It makes me feel not so numb anymore. I do this for a while longer before I hear my dad shout, "Sweetheart," from downstairs. I quickly hide the blade under my pillow and then rush to my bathroom to wash off the blood. There's so much of it that I'm shocked at myself. This is the most I've done. Maybe I should stop before...

"The Guardian has left. For the time being, the route to the Rift is obvious. The Edge of the Rift The three of them continued, the landscape becoming increasingly strange and unsteady with each stride. A huge rip in the fabric of reality, the Rift loomed ahead. The air was alive with crackling electricity, and its edges shimmered like waves of flame. It served as a reminder of the overwhelming power they faced, and it was both beautiful and terrible. Over the din of the Rift, Lyra's voice could almost be heard as she murmured, "We're close." "But we won't get through it easily."

"Got the route planned out?" I stayed quiet. If Zack had been just a bit more observant, he might have noticed the empty room, the lack of any signs that I was ready for our big Bonding Ceremony. I watched him, debating whether to break the silence. "Zack, I can't—" Before I could finish, his phone came to life again. Nancy's voice, laced with terror, pierced the air. "I'm bleeding, Zack!" His face twisted with worry, and he barked out his response.

Three of them. At the edge of the dark, where the grass meets the trees. They're not — they're not fully anything. Not fully the shape I would have expected, not fully the shape of the thing my brain is trying not to name. In between. Wrong in the specific way that things are wrong when they're in the process of becoming something else. They're looking at me. I run. I don't run away from them into the dark field. I run parallel to the treeline, toward the fire, toward the noise, toward the sixty people who have no idea what's at the edge of their gathering.

I was suffering from a leg cramp, so Evan Blackwood, the college guy who was with me, blushed as he gently massaged my leg to ease the pain. A shadow shot past before anyone could react, slamming into him and sending him sprawling onto the ground. "Who gave you permission to touch her?" Lawrence's face was calm, but his voice was low and sharp. He was radiating an unmistakable aura of danger. I stepped in front of Evan, shielding him with my body.

I'm used to people dying on me, I guess. I stop paying attention to their small talk, I sadly smile thinking how perfect they are as a family and I'm like an intruder, forcefully making my way towards their lives, their home, just thinking about it makes me breathless. I'm in desperate need of some fresh air. Casting my gaze outside the window once again, I look outside but find nothing interesting enough to put my attention on them. Soon I find myself slipping into my own thinking world. Thoughts I've been having since my childhood start clouding my head.