Friday, February 15, 2013

Prologue

Excerpt!

This is probably the only except I will share for a while on my nearly complete WIP, and it's from the prologue. I wanted my prologue to be a little dramatic, and dressed with vivid images. Hopefully, I've accomplished that. So, GULP-

© 2013, Traci Flores--aka Traci Vermillion.



Prologue

 My fiance lies in a crumpled heap, dying in a church tower on a dusty floor. Ironically the same floor I’d been found at the age of six.

Kirick. Forgive me!


My breath pulls in painfully on a sob--steam from the cold visible with the exhale. I can’t control my body,  armored chest heaving, metal skirt clanking with the fear. Blood drips from my arms, down my sword, before making crimson, tear drop splashes onto the clay tiled floor. The monsters in front of me track that blood, licking their lips.


All. My. Fault.


I had wanted Kirick so badly I’d put him in danger before he was even born. What had I been thinking to take such a risk? It’s no excuse that it had happened before I knew who I was, in another life even. I’d been so arrogant and brash. Desperate for the dream I’d seen in his eyes that long ago day--the life we would have--the beauty of his love. I had wanted that so badly, even knowing the awful danger.


I had been warned, shown what the alternate ending could be if I failed. Now, it might lead to our deaths. Kirick, my one true love--my soul mate would die. Pollo and Cass, my best friends would suffer untold agonies, imprisoned for hundreds of years before they are rescued. I’d seen what could happen if I lost--they would all suffer horribly for my selfishness. And, here I am, losing.


Badly.


Please. Give me strength.


The setting sun makes a glorious appearance through the bell tower windows. It changes the room’s colors into a soft peach and gold. It isn’t awe that sweeps through me at the sight, but dread. The night will give these monsters more strength--and drain mine.


Skin and bones feeling like heavy lead, I struggle, but raise my sword, determined to go down fighting. I give one last plea hoping he hears. 


“Kirick, I love you. Please. Please just live!”

With a war cry, I launch myself forward toward my enemies gnashing teeth and outstretched claws.

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