Sharlot and the Bound
Impossible
He was dead. No one could tell me who did it or how it happened but I knew. Mrs. Vega had finally made her move and she took his life. While everyone was happy and celebrating Kyle and Doll she pounced. She always struck when life began to feel normal. Seeing us at peace seemed to bother her to no end. She just could not handle it.
What a coward killing him in his sleep. She probably didn't even do it herself. She probably sent that big horned demon to do it for her. I am sure she never feels the needs to get her hands dirty. That kind of stuff was beneath her. That stuff was grunt work, child's play. She was to good for it. I hated her. I wish I could make her hurt too, but I had nothing on her. I searched in private for months to dig up her life and always came up empty. It was like she didn't even really exist. I couldn't stop her. I couldn't save him.
The thirty one of us, those who remain, mourning over our lost. They took him away from me, from us. His mother found him bloody, upstairs in his bed. His eyes closed, he remained completely unaware of the horror of his death. All of us felt it, those in the bound, the knife piercing us awake. We felt him die, we lived the pain. I didn’t sleep after that; I couldn’t stop the sobs that racked my body.
Lance, my beautiful, loyal, smart, funny, sexy Lance. My boyfriend and best friend of two years. He will never see the light of day again. Never kiss me again, and after only making love to me once, I will never have him again. He was forever lost to me. To us. He will never feel the baby that grows in my stomach. The baby that I pray will look just like him. So I can have at least a piece of him forever. I will never know if he only loved my because of the pull of the link or who I am. I would have to live without the one person I was sure who would live by my side forever. I sunk to new lows I didn't know existed.
What a coward killing him in his sleep. She probably didn't even do it herself. She probably sent that big horned demon to do it for her. I am sure she never feels the needs to get her hands dirty. That kind of stuff was beneath her. That stuff was grunt work, child's play. She was to good for it. I hated her. I wish I could make her hurt too, but I had nothing on her. I searched in private for months to dig up her life and always came up empty. It was like she didn't even really exist. I couldn't stop her. I couldn't save him.
The thirty one of us, those who remain, mourning over our lost. They took him away from me, from us. His mother found him bloody, upstairs in his bed. His eyes closed, he remained completely unaware of the horror of his death. All of us felt it, those in the bound, the knife piercing us awake. We felt him die, we lived the pain. I didn’t sleep after that; I couldn’t stop the sobs that racked my body.
Lance, my beautiful, loyal, smart, funny, sexy Lance. My boyfriend and best friend of two years. He will never see the light of day again. Never kiss me again, and after only making love to me once, I will never have him again. He was forever lost to me. To us. He will never feel the baby that grows in my stomach. The baby that I pray will look just like him. So I can have at least a piece of him forever. I will never know if he only loved my because of the pull of the link or who I am. I would have to live without the one person I was sure who would live by my side forever. I sunk to new lows I didn't know existed.