Sunday, September 24, 2017

Exiled to Lunar Lakes - Chapter 5 - More Than Trust


Zoraida woke up to the ringing of her ears. She groggily sat up as thoughts of her waking moments before consumed her.


Agony.
She had agreed to stay put.
Zoraida had meant to stay put.
She had promised for her.


Zoraida winced at the thought.
Her mind twisted and turned the information she had learned over and over again.
Was any of it real or just simply a nightmare to toy with her mind?


Her mind begged the question and a part of her hoped none of it was true. 
Zoraida ran her fingers through her hair as she stared at it. Everything about her screamed that she didn’t belong here. That she didn’t belong anywhere.


People didn’t naturally have bright green eyes and the pale hair she did. 
Now what was she forgetting?


How had she ended up getting out?


Her gaze traveled across the room as a man cleared his throat.


She found herself staring at him as the gods awful moments of being wherever she was rushed back.


He had carried her out of there even when she was cursing and screaming at him not to.
He had pulled her out of that nightmare even when he didn’t know her name.


Zoraida looked at him warily as feelings of warmth threatened to reach the surface. 


“What’s your name?” She asked curiously with a hint of suspicion and perhaps maybe even..warmth? 


The man’s eyes widened slightly in surprise before he went poker-face.
At least, that’s what Zoraida thought it was.
Even if a bad attempt.


He answered a moment later. “Petre.”


A small smile made it’s way up to her face. 
She didn’t try to fight it.
“Zoraida.” She answered dryly as she mulled over the thought. “I think.”


Petre muttered something under his breath. Zoraida’s eyes widened in alarm. “What?” 
He sighed as he hunched over on the chair he was sitting on. “Is that what you want to be called? Zoraida?” Zoraida stared at him warily before nodding.


Petre bobbed his head slightly. “Zoraida it is then.”
“You can call me Zo.” Zoraida said as words tumbled out of her mouth.” Zoraida has always been a mouthful.”


What the hell was she saying? 
She didn’t have any memories of before.
Memories flashed in the front of her mind of what she had seen.


Her subconscious ached to remind her how wrong she was. 
She pushed it all way; what she was good at now it seemed.
Zoraida had promised to listen and now-now she was not.


What if history repeats itself? Her mind begged the question. 
What if by ignoring it again, you will end up back in that room?


Zoraida placed her head in her hands as she resisted the urge to crawl into a ball again; a cowardly thing to do in her mind.


“Zoraida?” Petre asked concernedly. Her head snapped up as she looked at him.


She had completely forgotten he was there?
Was she losing her damn mind already?
She rubbed her forehead as she mumbled an apology under her breath.


Petre sighed as his eyebrows drew together. He shifted uneasily in his chair before standing up. He opened his mouth before pausing and shutting it again.


What Zoraida assumed was awkward silence filled the room as they both waited for the other to say something. Finally, Petre broke it.
“I’m not sure we’re safe here.” Petre said carefully before he continued. “You have been asleep for a day.”


Zoraida’s eyes widened as she looked around the room with a sense of ever increasing paranoia growing. “A day?”


Petre nodded as Zoraida went to push herself off the bed. “Where is exactly here?” She asked cautiously.


Petre cleared his throat again. “My house.” 


Zoraida’s eyes narrowed as she glanced towards the ceiling before looking back at Petre. “How did we get to your house, Petre?” Zoraida asked carefully as they played a dangerous game. 
She stiffened as she waited for the illusion of security to collapse.
It didn’t.


Instead she found somebody looking back at her, just as confused as she was. “When I carried you out, nobody was there. We were just in the outskirts of Lunar Lakes in some damn cellar.”


Zoraida sighed as she placed her head in her hands again. “I was a fool to think I could survive in a society like this.”


Petre shifted again. “You weren’t a fool for thinking you could survive here. You were a fool for thinking we could handle you.”


A glimpse of a smile made it’s way onto Zoraida's face as she bursted out laughing. “Do you really think so, Petre?” She said as the name felt more familiar on her lips by the moment.


Petre stared at her face with a mixture of emotions Zoraida couldn’t make out. “Absolutely.”



A few days passed by as Petre tried to give Zoraida time to recover from what had happened. No damage had been done physically it seemed, but mentally he wasn’t sure.


The whole event had been strange for both of them.


It had left them in an unlikely situation with neither of them wanting to leave each other’s side. Only the other could confirm what they had seen was real.
Petre sighed as he reclined back in his living room chair. People around here were starting to get suspicious.


Petre hadn’t come out of his house in days.


It hadn’t been safe coming here to begin with, but Petre couldn’t think of any other option.
He certainly had no friends.
The only thing he use to turn to was cigarettes.
Petre took the pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. Lucky for him, he had found an extra stash when he had came back.
He stared at it briefly before a familiar voice interrupted his thoughts. “You’re going to get cancer, you know.” Petre looked up as a coy smile met his gaze.


He chuckled as he took one out of the box. “No one lives long enough around here to get cancer, Zo.” Zoraida sat down in the other chair as she shook her head at him. Her mischievous eyes were ablaze. “Bullshit.”


Petre stared at her quizzically as he shifted his focus to looking for his lighter. In an unexpected moment, the box of cigarettes was plucked out of his hand. His head snapped up in surprise.

   
Zoraida waved them in front of him as she laughed lightly. Petre lifted an eyebrow as he reached for them. She pulled them back slightly with those mischievous, bright eyes of hers boring into him.


Petre met her gaze back and instead of reaching for the box, he pulled her closer to him instead.
Her eyes went round for a split second before the mischievousness returned back in them.


Petre knew he was doomed from the start as she closed the space between them as she pressed her lips to his. His eyes widened as he took the box out of her hands and tossed it across the room, closing any space left between them in the process as he crushed his lips to hers.
Screw cigarettes.
Why did he need cigarettes again?


Petre pulled away as his lips traveled across her jawline before settling on her neck for a brief moment. She gasped in surprise. Within a few moments, Zoraida was away from him as Petre found himself frowning. He glanced at her curves as he prepared himself to back off.
Petre didn’t need to push his luck any farther.
He soon felt a tug on his hand as Zoraida smiled seductively as her eyes drifted towards his bedroom. He followed her, the pack of cigarettes long forgotten as they laid uselessly on the floor.
Neither of them knew what would come next after this day or the day after.
Life in Lunar Lakes was short and was spent being haunted by a number about a past that no longer existed.
For a while, they both managed to forget it.





SimNoWriMo Word count: 1,336
SimNoWriMo Picture count:45

SimNoWriMo Update Count: 4

Tuesday, September 19, 2017

Exiled to Lunar Lakes - Chapter 4, Part 2 - Broken Memories

Warning, flashing lights in some pictures below.





Time froze in place as Petre waited in silence. Waited for something to happen, someone to come.
Maybe some more of the ceiling would fall.
At this point, he was damned if he knew.
Shards of glass flew up in the air to form the light bulb again. The light bulb slowly flickered as Petre stared, slack-jawed.
The light brightened as the ceiling pieced itself together again.


Petre knew right in that moment, he had lost his damn mind.
The door swung forward as the hinges creaked against its weight.


Petre stared at as he cursed under his breath.
That damn door was unlocked the whole time? You had to be fucking kidding.
Was this all some twisted show by some lunatic in Lunar Lakes?


Petre sighed. He wouldn’t doubt it.
Petre stared at the chair as he looked at it. For everything else in the room that had oddly pieced itself together, the chair had stayed broken.


He shook his head before talking under his breath. “You’re losing you're damn mind, Petre.” He needed a cigarette. Yes. A cigarette. He looked around in his pockets.


It wasn’t likely the kidnappers would have let him keep them, but the ceiling just pieced itself together so why the fuck not? Petre searched his pocket as he cursed under his breath. 
Damn it. The shock of the situation was starting to wear off as he looked at the chair warily before grabbing a piece of what reminded of it.
He was forgetting something.
His eyes widened as he dropped the piece of the chair as he rushed out the door.
Her bright green eyes in the front of his mind made him remember he wasn’t the only one taken.


The door creaked before shutting close behind him.
No turning back now.


Petre looked around the hallway as the lights flickered above. He stared at the ceiling for a moment to make sure it didn’t start falling apart.


He didn’t want to deal with that shit again.
Petre looked at each of the eight doors down the hallway as he decided what he should do.


He frantically started try to open the first one. The door didn’t budge. His eyebrows furrowed as he debated between forcing the door open or trying the rest of the seven as the hallway lights shut off.
Petre hurried as he tried opening every damn door he could before something happened again.


In another moment of complete silence, a door swung forward on it’s hinges as the light next to it flickered rapidly.


Petre ran to the door as his eyes searched for something. 
No, someone.
He was looking for the woman.
Petre winced as he thought about what he might find.
His eyes landed on a small body curled into a ball.


Her bright hair could still be seen in the darkness.
Petre sat down next to her as adrenaline sped through his body. They needed to get out of here.


He gently shook her shoulder as she hugged her legs tighter and whimpered under her breath.


Petre’s eyes widened in surprise before anger consumed him.
Anger for what they did, anger for what they could have done. What had they done to her?
He pushed it in the back of his mind before speaking. He needed to focus on getting them both out of here. “I don’t know what they did to you, but we have to do go. We’ll kill them later.” The words became a promise of some kind once they left his lips.
The woman uncurled herself as she looked up at him. The defiance in her eyes was nearly gone and he found himself wishing it wasn’t.


Wishing that she was still the same woman from that tried to slap him at a bar for treating death casually. “I promised I would start listening to them.”


Petre stared at her.
They had done something and his want to kill them for causing his day inconvenience was growing more and more out of hatred.
”Does that mean you are not coming?” He said carefully even though he knew her answer to the question. They had done some damage.
The woman looked at the ground as she hesitated before nodding.


Petre looked at her for a long moment before quickly picking her up gently and placing her over his shoulder.
He would get them both out of here, even if it no longer seemed like an option in her mind.


Petre briefly thought about how longer they could have been here and couldn’t shake the feeling that something supernatural was going on with this damn place. How would he know the time?


The woman went silent for a moment as Petre started walking towards the end of the hallway before she started screaming and cursing at him.


Petre shook his head as he looked around for the exit.
He would kill them yet even through it all, they hadn’t managed to kill this woman’s spark.





SimNoWriMo Word count:  831
SimNoWriMo Picture count: 23

SimNoWriMo Update Count: 3