Heroes and Wolves [book 1]

By Wolf-Star98

9.4K 5K 2.8K

Living in a small shack surrounded by the mysterious Folklore woods, Layla takes everyday as her own but is p... More

Prologue
Character and World Aesthetics
Chapter one
Chapter two
Chapter three
Chapter four
Chapter five
Chapter six
Chapter seven
Chapter eight
Chapter nine
Chapter ten
Chapter eleven
Chapter twelve
Chapter thirteen
Chapter fourteen
Chapter fifteen
Chapter sixteen
Chapter eighteen
Chapter nineteen
Chapter twenty
Chapter twenty-one
Chapter twenty-two
Chapter twenty-three
Chapter twenty-four
Chapter twenty-five
Chapter twenty-six
Chapter twenty-seven
Chapter twenty-eight
Chapter twenty-nine
Chapter thirty
Chapter thirty-one
Chapter thirty-two
Chapter thirty-three
Chapter thirty-four
Chapter thirty-five
Chapter thirty-six
Chapter thirty-seven
Chapter thirty-eight
Chapter thirty-nine
Chapter forty
Chapter forty-one
Chapter forty-two
Chapter forty-three
Chapter forty-four
Chapter forty-five
Chapter forty-six
Chapter forty-seven
Chapter forty-eight
Chapter forty-nine
Chapter fifty
Chapter fifty-one
Chapter fifty-two
Chapter fifty-three
Chapter fifty-four
Chapter fifty-five
Chapter fifty-six
Chapter fifty-seven
Chapter fifty-eight
Chapter fifty-nine
Chapter sixty
Chapter sixty-one
Chapter sixty-two
Chapter sixty-three
Chapter sixty-four
Chapter sixty-five
Chapter sixty-six
Chapter sixty-seven
Chapter sixty-eight

Chapter seventeen

184 134 20
By Wolf-Star98

Layla

I'm frozen to the spot. If I move, I'll be chased but I can't stand here forever. I have a choice to make. To stay here with the unknown red orbs or to flea with them tailing me as they always do. 

My anxiety transcends when the red orbs of light suddenly disappear and then reappear a second later. They keep doing it and get closer to me with each resurface which doesn't lessen the frightening tingles that now crackle my every nerve. Vicious growls bite the air and from it, I've made my decision. I am not staying here any longer. My shoes skid as I turn and sprint away while trying to retrace my steps back to Maylock and to that place called Miscellania. 

The growls turn to a whisper as I dart through the woods. I slow down but still keep alert. I don't know what I was thinking with trying to back track in a forest. Every tree looks the same and after a while they all merge into one and disorientate you. That's what has happened now. I have no idea where I am.

I carry on heading in the same direction, hooking my thumbs into the straps of my bag for some support as the forest floor snaps and clicks with each of my footsteps until I stumble upon a concrete slab sticking out from the ground. It's not alone. There are more going down in a line which I follow up to a building – a house. A house? Why is a house in the middle of the woods?

Most of the cracked brown roof tiles are hanging off the edge and tilted out of place. Multiple windows are smashed and there is no door; just an open doorway of where one should be. The small balcony in the middle of the second floor has a peeled white picket fence as a barrier to stop anyone falling but from the look of it, I don't think it would do its job nor would anyone actually set foot upon it. I know I wouldn't. 

The wooden decking and the two posts that support the porch are rotten in places which makes me feel a bit uneasy gazing upon a house that could cave in at any moment. A bit like my shack.

A crackle of sticks and leaves sound from behind me which startles some birds. They produce a quieter rustle in their escape though this seems to grow in volume until it morphs into a high-pitched howl that resonates down my ear canal. The anxious tingles return and scatter throughout my body as the hairs on the back of my neck also stand on end so I quickly dart through the doorway of the house.

++++++++++++++++

It's dark inside. My angel has stopped flashing so I'm only able to see a short distance ahead of me. I resort to using the light emitted from the doorway and the broken windows to try and process my surroundings. Long faded, dark red curtains drape down from one window and reach the floor. The curtain is only held on the top rail by a few threads which causes it to dangle and strain. 

Muffles of movement splice through the hush of the dark. To my relief, it isn't growling or anything else fear-inducing although my anxiety picks up when these sounds turn into voices which grow in volume. If it's getting louder then it must be coming closer. Crap! Where do I hide? 

I don't have the time to search for somewhere, especially in the dark so I bolt to the long curtains. I just need to be careful. 

Wrapping the curtain around me, I cough from the dust that is chucked up as a result of the movement but then warmth suddenly overcomes me because these are velvet curtains. 

Grasping the sides of the curtain so I can see ahead of me. My grip tightens on the material, ready to make a quick and easy cover should whoever come in look in my direction. I am not going to make that mistake twice. 

Many footsteps crackle on the forest floor but the crunch and rustle of leaves soon change to a bundle of claps on the wooden decking outside. Three people come in through the doorway.

     "Hell yeah, we showed that one!" I hear one of them.

     "Oi come on, quiet down" This voice is familiar. "When we get back to Miscellania the first thing I want you to do is to fix this interference so we get an accurate reading. Focus on that so we can find her" Their voice is louder and authoritative making me realise who it is. It's Maylock. Maylock? Does he live here? "Good fight on the Falox anyway" Falox? Who's that? What's going on? 

The sound of cheering erupts around and I nearly let go of the curtain in response to the sudden and very loud noise. That was a shock. 

As the ringing from my ears softens and disappears, I watch their silhouettes go through the house. One of them shouts and fist pumps the air rather enthusiastically. They turn left from the doorway and the light from the windows is just enough for me to see them stop in front of a massive square framed picture. Why this size of picture is in this house is a wonder. The location of it furthers my curiosity. Why put it near the floor? Surely you would want it in view, high on a wall to show off. My awe of this picture doubles as it literally opens out on a hinge and they all walk into whatever is on the other side. 

When they disappear and the picture closes to its original place, an eerie silence fills the room. As I step forward, there's a sudden difference in the texture of the curtain; it's become slack. Metal soon chimes and pings above me. The rail is coming off its bindings to the wall. 

Crap! 

I scurry out of the curtain and manage to dive out of the way just before the rail clatters onto the ground. The curtain, on the other hand, flutters down slowly in comparison. 

I land with a thud; the wood flooring makes it a very hard landing. I've almost been winded. 

I brush myself down and a white splash of colour lights up the room. My angel is flashing again. At least I can use this as a light source now, so I make my way to the large picture. It's a painting. I can feel each and every brushstroke and blob of paint applied. It's a dark depiction of a forest. The only light shown is from the glowing full moon which creates tall and thin shadows of trees with branches stretching wide. The theme of this painting is clearly dark and gloomy, but my eyes catch sight of bright colours in the bottom right corner. The grass and overgrowth are thick in this area and two red orbs pierce through it. Red orbs

     "Yeah, I'll be there. Just wait Zack!" someone shouts from behind the painting. 

Oh god. What do I do? 

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