OPEN NOVELLA CONTEST - LONG LISTED
Safety was never an option.
She has nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. Nowhere safe to reside. No matter how far she runs or how quiet she hides, they always find her. She will never be free of her hunters. Theresa k...
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The muttering makes her feel like she's in a different kind of cell. There are no walls to this one, only the back of a tree trunk, and rain that continues to fall without relent. Theresa clutches to the blanket that covers her shoulders, soaking up the water from her cloak. The curse pulsates under her skin like a dying heart beat. If only it would die.
Her vision goes in and out of focus as she stares at the rain. It slowly consumes the grass and makes the river grow. The coldness it brings only adds to the numbness she feels. What a selfish being she is. What right did she have to murder so many innocent guards? It was pointless in the end, anyway. Braven is dead. But his words still echo in her mind.
Save them, and come home.
"Theresa?" Meline watches her, huddled close to the rain, away from her, Via and their other partner. There was no time for introductions as they fled Synon. Now Theresa keeps her distance. It's better for everyone.
Via and their partner turn their heads to look at Theresa too. Via keeps her hood over her head, but the other has pushed it to their shoulders. They also have long hair, long enough to tie it back loosely. Stubble patches over their chin and a scar runs along their chin. Their hair is a musky orange, and their eyes are blue; at least they're not like salt.
"Sorry we haven't really talked to you since we stopped," Meline continues, now coming over to her and squatting. "This is Ezequiel. He's part of our operation," she says, waving to him. He gives a weak wave back. He's not trying at all to show his fear.
Via comes forward, offering a similar fearful smile. "Sorry I didn't properly introduce myself. My name is Octavia, but call me Via."
"And we're currently waiting for our transport back to our main base. It shouldn't be too long now. We can't stay here long, or Synon will catch us," Meline finishes, patting Via away.
"Apologies," Theresa mutters.
Meline frowns. "You don't need to say sorry."
"Sorry?" She cocks her head to the side.
"It's another word for apology. Or as you say it, apologies; apologise. It's the same thing," Via answers. She sounds tired.
Theresa hangs her head, clutching the blanket tighter with the gloves they gave her. The ones they took from her back in Meline's village. It makes no sense to her. Why does the curse not attack her gloves, but everything else? Her head throbs. That's a question for later.
"It... was a little overboard, to attack all of them, I will admit." Meline bites her tongue, rubbing her arm. "But I'm not holding you accountable after all that they've done to you."
"It's still no excuse," Ezequiel hisses.
Meline shoots him a look. "Ez..."
"Excuse?" Theresa mutters into her knobbly knees, eyes squinting as the pain in her side spikes.
