The Lost Stars: (The Discontinued Stories of Sky Writers in Perspective)

Version 3/4 Prologue

Originally Published (approx): Oct 2014

                  An outstretched hand reached desperately for the silver weapon that could end it all. 

                  Your hand reached desperately for the silver weapon that could end it all. 

                  You would end it.

                  You would end this.

                  "I wonder how this story of yours comes to an end, this fairytale." His shadow loomed over you overhead. Your head didn't turn in the slightest, eyes locked on the weapon just a few inches from your fingertips. You didn't have time for this. You didn't have time to be the helpless damsel in distress when everyone you loved needed you.

                  You didn't scream and you didn't yell; he would have enjoyed knowing how much he bothered you. "This is my story. I say when it comes to an end damnit." You may have been broken, bruised and bloody all over, but you weren't going to stop. No that just wasn't in your nature; especially not when the stakes were this high. 

                  "Oooh so close." A foot crashed down on your hand, eliciting a scream that could've been heard ten houses over. Any healing abilities you had were already completely drained. "How selfish of you, you knew this little fantasy would have to end."

                  "It's not a fantasy." Your teeth clenched so tightly that you swore they turned into Calcium dust. Trying to ignore the burn of sweat mixing with your tears, you still reached for the last gleam of light in the blurry world around you. 

                  "Are you sure?" The man leaned down, picking up the weapon you'd been reaching for. You'd given him the best you had and he was just treating you like some toy, some plaything to entertain him for a brief flash of time. "Don't you know?" When he clenched his fist tightly around the weapon, bright light slowly emerged from the cracks forming in the rod, you could feel your heart threatening to break free from your chest. 

                  "All stories come to an end." He picked you up by your throat, holding you until your feet weren't touching the ground. Clawing at his hand with your uninjured hand, you still fought through your pain and delirium. They'd come for you. All you had to do was buy some time.

                  A sadistic gleam lingered in his eyes, he knew where he had you. He hadn't broken you just yet, but one person can only take so much pain until they lose consciousness. He'd been dangling you at the point right before that blissful unconsciousness. Still, the light hadn't left your eyes yet and that frustrated him, but you would fight until you couldn't anymore.

                  After all, you had people to protect. 

                  Tears flowed freely down your cheeks as you glared at the man. You clawed at the hand around your neck, the one clenching at your windpipe. 

                  One rebellious thought, one last rebellious thought was the only thing you could do to defy him now. 

                  "You're not the one writing these stories." 

                  You glared at him as you could feel your heart dropping to unnaturally slow rhythms, body feeling colder and colder by the second. The fierce glare wavered; your brain suffering from the effects of oxygen deprivation fast.

                  He smiled, amused by your determination and stubbornness- seemingly interpreting the thought you had simply by looking into your eyes. 

                  "Are you sure about that?"

                  Just as darkness finally claimed you; you swore you heard someone yelling your name.

                  But was it already too late?