His hair was brushed back neatly, broken up only by the thin, white edges along his ears that threatened to reveal the age he otherwise carried so well. He was my father’s brother no doubt, and looked every bit the part with the same dark hair and matching charcoal eyes. His hands were crossed firmly behind his back-stoic, just the way I remembered him. The town car came to a stop at the top of the driveway where my Uncle Karl was standing in wait on the front stoop, solemn and watchful like a raven holding fast on its perch. Certainly not if you’re living in this little place we call reality, so that’s exactly what I told my doctors-over and over again like an anti-psychotic mantra-until they believed that I believed it and finally signed my release papers. They don’t murder your father in the middle of the night while you’re watching on helpless and powerless to stop it. Yeah, I know what you’re thinking vampires aren’t real. I had spent the last six months holed up in a mental institution, suffering from what they called, “a psychotic break from reality due to a traumatic event.” That event being the death of my father, and the psychotic break being the part where I claimed to have been attacked by a vampire.
MARKED BOOK DRIVER
It was arguably one of the most macabre-looking houses in town, and for a second I contemplated telling the driver to take me back to the hospital-a thought that quickly dissipated with a brief flashback to the mandatory group therapy sessions and decrepit nourishment they had the audacity to call food. The massive, Baronial-style gray stone had been in our family for over a century and had all the trappings of a real life haunted house, outfitted with arched Victorian towers, ivy-clung walls, and a spike-tipped fence that spanned the entire length of the grounds. The wrought-iron gates creaked open as the black town car glided through the late afternoon fog and took us up the winding driveway to my uncle’s house-the Blackburn Estate. And they were right there waiting for it-eager and ready to bury me in the wreckage.Įverything was a lie, and I never saw it coming. One misstep was all it took, and it all came crashing down. I couldn’t see through the smoke and mirrors too consumed with fighting a destiny I didn’t want too afraid to let go of a life I wasn’t meant to have.
I walked hand in hand with my enemy, allowed their kiss of death to linger on my lips while the world disintegrated around me.
MARKED BOOK SKIN
You’ll never know their true face, for they shed their masks in layers-meticulous and devious, like the skin of an ever-changing snake. They shape the world around you with well-constructed lies, entombing you in the gossamer of their deceit. The most dangerous enemy is not the one who lingers behind you in the shadows, but the one who walks beside you as a friend. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Thank you for downloading this ebook and for respecting the hard work of this author.Īll characters and events depicted in this book are fictitious. No part of this ebook may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without express written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in an article or book review. For believing in me long before I wrote this.Īll rights reserved.
0 kommentar(er)
