Chapter Thirty- Seven» Beyond The Stars

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Darkness.

Every where around me, darkness invaded  from each corner. Sweeping through the deserted land;forming in to the demons of the night. Holding you prisoner against your fears.

I didn't know how I got here. This must be a dream. Surely this was a nightmare yet no matter how much I willed it. I couldn't wake up. I remained a slave to my own thoughts, unable to escape through.

I was cold. So cold.

Looking around, I was there again. Beside the cliff, seeing the world around me disappear in to oblivion. Dancing to the lullabies of fear; the trees moved in a rhythmic tone. As if it had a mind of its own, with an army of thorns.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to shout yet no sound came.

Closing my eyes tightly the world around me washed away. Falling through the tunes of broken dreams. Devouring the loneliness gripping against me. Glancing upwards I felt my breathing hitching, seeing the familiar figure stand beside the cliff.

Her auburn locks were like a ray of light; shinning against the darkness around me. Bathed in scarlet she glanced upwards. The white dress moving against her will, pulling her down.

I wanted to run. I wanted to get her. I had to get her, yet it was as though my legs were glued to the spot and I couldn't move. Shackled to the earth I stared helpless at the woman before me. Seeing large tears roll down her cheek; her thin figure going limp before falling backwards.

The haunting scream echoing past my ears. Knocking all sense away from me.

" Omar"

Inhaling sharply I felt my eyes opening. The all too familiar scent of wood and smoke mixing against the stuffed air; swarming with sins of man.

Glancing upwards I felt my gaze flickering on the two men sitting before me. Their hopeful eyes trained on my every move.

Greed reeked through their aura. The gold chains around their necks made from tears and pain of the helpless. Despite wearing cologne worth hundreds; no amount of scented spray could ever hide their true nature, for how long was a man to wear a facade  till he became one himself. Losing their minds to their lies.

Sitting upwards, Angelo. A chubby looking man with crispy white hair rubbed his jaw. The black designer suit barely fitting him. Placing his arms against the glass table.

He inched the files forward, an intimidated look plastering his face, yet, what would he know of intimidation. I could make his dead father dance in his grave at my tunes.

" It is a good deal Mr. Khan. You get half of the casino and we get the garage for our 'business' fifty-fifty" His thick southern accent reached my ears. The plea hidden behind his words making me lean back. Knowing I had my ropes wrapped around his neck.

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