After much soul-searching, I have decided to write a few short stories, unrelated to the other works, before continuing on with the next of the Shadow Wolf Sagas, just to keep it fresh. As always, this is raw and uncut; enjoy responsibly.
I awake in a cell, a concrete tomb that has never seen the sun, a barren womb that emanates stillborn despair.
My head is heavy, my eyes are leaden. Sleep in this place is hard and my dreams are unquiet. It takes me time to situate myself in this forgotten place. I am a prisoner, taken for my secret knowledge of the runes. I am cogent, but something stirs beneath the surface of my thoughts. Flashes of deeds and hidden memories threaten move in the deeps of my unconscious mind. Something has happened.
I remember a girl; Andrea, Adrianna, Amy? or was it a man? Andrew, Daffyd, Mikael? There was a gun. Corridors much like the one outside the cell. Monsters in the dark. And Runes, always Runes. Wierder things that I cannot quite grasp. I push deeper, trying to remember, willing myself to recall. But the images confuse me, overwhelm me, like a child leafing through an entire library shelf of books all at once. I feel like I am drowning. I gasp for air and let it go. Something is wrong.
After some time, I gather my wits. I decide it is best not to plumb the depths of my mind in such a place. At least not right now, not in such a dire place.
I take stock of what I know for certain. The easy stuff. How long have I been here? It seems like forever, but I cannot remember more than three days. I know that I failed a test somehow. They know I can see the runes. How did I give myself away?
And, of course, I know that on the wall across the cell from me, like an old companion, sits a rune. Massive and powerful, waiting for me, always waiting for the answer that only I can provide.
<End, For Now>