This Resurrection
Chapter Five
She struggled in pain, clutching her stomach. It was time, she was due.
The midwive heard her calls of despair, rushing up the swindling stairs into the room of Sybil Eva Audovera. The sight in front of her scared her half to death. There was a man, his face black; as if covered with oil, with wrinkles on his cheekbones. He was stroking Eva’s hair, softly, caressing her as if she was a new-born child.
The mid-wife didn’t get a chance to scream; her head rolled on the floor as the blood splurted like wine for celebration.
Eva’s eyes grew wide as she once again tried to contain the pain.
“Accept me and everything would be okay…”
The melodic voice of the devil himself caught on to the female Audovera. She didn’t want to accept him, she didn’t want to give in to the urges. She hated him, the very thought of her ever being in love with him seem a nightmare.
Sybil Eva Audovera hated the man she resurrected; she hated Alexander Bartholomew.
The smirk graced his face, making known that he was a creature of the netherworld. A creature so vicious and merciless, the one that lived only to kill, destroy and take whatever that doesn’t belong to him.
With a frustrated scream, Eva Audovera reached her trembling hands out to accept Bartholomew. She gave in. She was in too much pain and she would rather have her child be happy. –She hopes so.
The last breath.
“Don’t come near us, you stink!”
The roar of teases started as Constance Eva Blacwin ran off with tears in her eyes.
Constance Blacwin; daughter of Sybil Eva Audovera and Matthew Blacwin. Her mother died at childbirth, her father only coming home two months after she was born. She was raised single handedly by a father that blamed her for Audovera’s death. To him, Constance was a burden. If she wasn’t born, Eva wouldn’t have been dead now.
Constance wasn’t a beautiful girl, she had her flaws- the cause of being teased by the village kids. She wasn’t rich, her father’s family was destroyed during war and her mother’s treasures all burried along with her. This was also one of the reasons why Matthew Blacwin hated the child. He hated his own flesh and blood.
Constance had one friend. He was always there for her, always a shoulder to cry on. He was much older then her, in his twenties, clad in black. She knew him yet she didn’t know him at all. He would always appear when she called out to him- only when she called out to him.
His name was Alexender Bartholomew. Her protector, her friend, her lover.
“Eva…”
The midwive heard her calls of despair, rushing up the swindling stairs into the room of Sybil Eva Audovera. The sight in front of her scared her half to death. There was a man, his face black; as if covered with oil, with wrinkles on his cheekbones. He was stroking Eva’s hair, softly, caressing her as if she was a new-born child.
The mid-wife didn’t get a chance to scream; her head rolled on the floor as the blood splurted like wine for celebration.
Eva’s eyes grew wide as she once again tried to contain the pain.
“Accept me and everything would be okay…”
The melodic voice of the devil himself caught on to the female Audovera. She didn’t want to accept him, she didn’t want to give in to the urges. She hated him, the very thought of her ever being in love with him seem a nightmare.
Sybil Eva Audovera hated the man she resurrected; she hated Alexander Bartholomew.
The smirk graced his face, making known that he was a creature of the netherworld. A creature so vicious and merciless, the one that lived only to kill, destroy and take whatever that doesn’t belong to him.
With a frustrated scream, Eva Audovera reached her trembling hands out to accept Bartholomew. She gave in. She was in too much pain and she would rather have her child be happy. –She hopes so.
The last breath.
“Don’t come near us, you stink!”
The roar of teases started as Constance Eva Blacwin ran off with tears in her eyes.
Constance Blacwin; daughter of Sybil Eva Audovera and Matthew Blacwin. Her mother died at childbirth, her father only coming home two months after she was born. She was raised single handedly by a father that blamed her for Audovera’s death. To him, Constance was a burden. If she wasn’t born, Eva wouldn’t have been dead now.
Constance wasn’t a beautiful girl, she had her flaws- the cause of being teased by the village kids. She wasn’t rich, her father’s family was destroyed during war and her mother’s treasures all burried along with her. This was also one of the reasons why Matthew Blacwin hated the child. He hated his own flesh and blood.
Constance had one friend. He was always there for her, always a shoulder to cry on. He was much older then her, in his twenties, clad in black. She knew him yet she didn’t know him at all. He would always appear when she called out to him- only when she called out to him.
His name was Alexender Bartholomew. Her protector, her friend, her lover.
“Eva…”
♠ ♠ ♠
This is the end. ..or is it?