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[i-lost-my-soul-can-you-help]

Character Description and Possible Short Story?

Asteria Cometer

           This woman was a goddess. A wonderful human being that had given me the chance to marry her. My wife. My beautiful soulmate. Painters would tire trying to paint her magnificence since it was far too great, while poets and writers would have too much too say about her, that books would be published with thousands of pages, only to describe her appearance.

Asteria Cometer, a woman I had met by chance on a walk to a job interview. In the small town of Akranes in Iceland, it wasn’t hard to spot a new face in a crowd of familiar people, but for Asteria, it was as if everyone was ignoring the living goddess that walked among them.

           During a cloudy day in this small fishing town, my eyes caught glimpse of her curls bouncing in the wind with every step she took. Her movement was fluid and almost phantom like, gliding across the streets as if nothing stood in her way. Although the sun hid behind the clouds, wandering eyes of tourists and civilians trying to find it, she shone brighter than it ever could, a soft golden glow encompassing her very being. Attracted to her magic aura, I felt entranced and obliged to go speak to her. When I did, her eyes, oh her dazzling dark bay eyes devoured me. I felt like a raindrop compared to her sunbeam. Mixed in with her brown eyes, drops of silver lined the rims, making it as though stars were created there, and released in the night sky. It felt like looking at a galaxy, the swirl of those colors captivating anyone who looked too long. Her oval face, painted with freckles, added personality to her. A complimentary of such to her mesmerizing eyes. Although most freckles cluttered at the bridge of her nose, a small button nose that accentuated her personality nicely, they spread out across her face and some down her neck as they moved like a tidal wave to the rest of her body.

           The wooden door groaned against my weight as I leaned on it, admiring my beautiful wife as she worked on one of her novels. A picture frame of the day we got married decorated the small off-white wooden desk I built her the only thing that stood on it other than a black teardrop shaped lamp. The sun’s rays from outside shone through the small rounded window, illuminating the room in a glow dimmer than Asteria’s own aura. Her skin, the color of dark chocolate, absorbed the light, yet she illuminated the room in a different glow. Her honey blonde curls strewn across her shoulders, shook once in a while from her movement. She hadn’t noticed my presence yet, and her back was to me as I observed her shoulders expand and cave in with every breath she took. Her fingers, scarred by a past mistake that she was too embarrassed to speak about, furiously typed on her laptop, words appearing on the screen almost as if she used magic to conjure up the world she had created in her mind.

“Urgh I can’t do it!” Her fingers stilled, coming up to her hair she clutched them, her curls stretching.

I chuckled, and bounced from the wooden frame, coming right behind her and putting my calloused hands on her small shoulders. I felt her slightly jump from where she sat in her chair and her dark bay eyes with little specks of silver glanced up at me. I kissed her forehead and pulled up the little worn-down stool beside her chair.

“Darling, don’t talk like that. You’ve written more than one novel. This is going to be another bestseller and you know it!” I encouraged her.

She looked to me, and I felt like it was only the two of us in this world. The ocean beyond the cliff from where the house stood silenced, birds stopped mid-flight and stilled for a moment. She smiled; a smile that could make anyone bow down before her.

“I know but like… it’s not so easy and like I don’t like my novel. I wish it would just write itself ya know?” Her accent, small in comparison to when she first arrived at Akranes, was a sweet melody to my ears. It was a refreshing distraction from the boring day to day schedule of my life.

I smiled and brought her hands up to my lips, her skin cold like a porcelain doll.

“You can do it.” With those words I lifted myself to my feet, towering over my small wife. The floors creaked with every step as I moved to the door frame. As if on cue, the birds started squawking a horrible tune, and the waves came crashing onto the earth.

Her eyes gleamed with a new purpose and sense of determinism, and she turned back to her laptop, fingers furiously typing once more, new ideas being brought to life. Secretly, I leaned against the door frame once more, and went back to admiring my wife, for a while before turning back and heading towards the front door.

           The sun shone brightly on my too pale skin. I walked towards the town, the heat seeping through my layers of skin, reaching the core of my bones. My heart swelled at the idea of coming back home later on to kiss my wife and sweep her off her feet. But first, I had to do something today, something so secret that even she didn’t know what my actual daytime job was.

           The quiet morning dew of a new day settled on the meadow grass as I walked through the land. The sky, a soft gray with a dash of blue overshadowed the town of Akranes. Although it looked as though a storm so horrendous was brewing at the edge of the cliff, everyone who had lived here long enough knew that it was nothing to worry about. There were much darker and harmful things instead that lurked in the shadows of trees and homes, and at the depths of the seas. Fisherman constantly lost battles with the creatures, creatures that were told and put off as myth and legends. Unfortunately, many things that were thought to be imaginary, actually roamed the earth beside us.

           A soft rumbling came from underneath me and I stopped. I picked up my pace and saw the town square from the small hill I stood on. Nothing too big, mostly bricks of white with black or red roofing. The docks flowed with different sizes, shapes, and colored boats. Asteria and I didn’t particularly like fishing, so we hadn’t wasted money on a boat, but other than us two, everyone else owned a boat.

***********

  The red wooden door beckoned me, called to my very soul, deep and hidden within mazes and chest. I did this for a living and yet… I couldn’t bring myself to knock, to open the door and smell the aroma of lavender and lily rose. Laughter and voices sounded behind me, locals walking with their spouses or friends, enjoying the time they had. My heart steeled itself. I needed to do it now or Asteria would grow suspicious. I couldn’t have her know. My life would be ruined.

           Thump, Thump

           The door knocker felt heavy in my hands as I kept lifting it and dropping it back down. The metal was cool to the touch, the silver a sharp contrast against the bright red door.

           I heard shuffling from inside, and feet stomping. My heart pounded against my rib cage. Quickly and smoothly, I took my ear pierce from my jean pockets and inserted the chip into my ear. With a press of a button, a deafening ringing exploded into my ear for a split second. Just in time, the door opened to reveal the owner of the house.

           “Oh. Hello.” They replied breathlessly.

           “Hi sweetheart.”

[i-lost-my-soul-can-you-help]

Character Description Attempt #2

From across the room, Verine looked to be the most elegant woman there, her hourglass figure magnificently outlined by the tight burgundy dress she wore, crevices augmenting her curves, moving to the beat of her steps. She held a glass of champagne her fingers slightly curved on the hilt, almost as if she were scared to shatter it. Her chocolate hair, soft like a feather was in a updo bun, curls caressing her face. Like admiring a rose from a distance, she was the epitome of beauty, grace and mystery, but she hid a dark secret.

To anyone with eyes like a hawk, there was a slight sheen of sweat that covered her neck, for when she moved under the light, she shone with a spark that was barely noticeable. One would think that it might be her perfume, or possibly her jewelry, yet her jewelry was dull compared to her beauty, and her perfume only consisted of rose water, nothing too flamboyant. When she smiled, men would swoon and females would glare, but there was a tightness to her lips, nothing that looked natural, except for those who fell for her lie. Although she was elegant, her shoulders stiffened once in a while, only a slight movement that would soon be erased with a shrug and an excuse of being cold, only to reappear a couple seconds later. Every sound seemed to make Verine jump. Her slim fingers, the look of them so soft and pale compared to everyone around her, would sometimes twitch, as if wanting to grab something. By the looks of it, it was something small she looked for, something that could be easily held, but be unnoticeable to any wandering eyes. Verine’s eyes shifted around the room, so quickly that no one would notice her absence from conversations. But there was a look to them, a soft glaze that indicated she wasn’t truly there, almost as if she had gone into herself, possibly to escape something or someone.

            Verine walked, almost like a phantom on a breeze, wordlessly wandering through the crowd, making sure to avoid everyone. Her shoulders, although stiff, would cave in, acting like a shield against the people at the party. Her glass of champagne long gone, her hands fisted around her dress, the hem lifting of the floor exposing her pale skin, skin that seemed to have missed the sun for years. Her feet moved in quick steps, as if she were in a hurry to go somewhere, someplace other than here. Once in a while, she was stopped by a possible suitor, but with an excuse and a gracious curtsy, she slipped past them, moved towards the shadows and stayed there.

           Verine breathed in ragged gasps, her chest heaving in quick motions, air being swallowed too slowly. By now, her knuckles were whiter than snow, her cheeks a rosy tinge that was slowly spreading over her entire face. Her eyes, a soft green like a meadow in the end of summer gleamed with unshed tears, everything being too much for her to handle. Verine could no longer stay there, could no longer play this cruel game. This was her life, she was not some sort of lamb to be slaughtered. Her shoulders slackened, caving in on herself, her hands releasing the dress, limply swaying beside her hips. Her plump red lips quivered ever so slightly, while emotions rolled like a movie behind her eyes, too fast to register.

           Her eyes looked about the room, at the couples who danced and at the people who laughed and sang. To those who cheered and to those who ate and drank until their bodies shut down. But her eyes focused on the shadows that lurked in every corner, to the way they shifted with the light, and where eyes hungrily scavenged the crowd for potential victims. She hugged the wall behind her, her breathing turning into quiet sobs, her shoulder shook with every tear that spilled down her cheek, mascara running down her face. Verine couldn’t do it anymore. As a shadow breathed down her back, her eyes flared open, excruciating fear swallowing her soul, she let out a scream, and the party went to chaos.

[i-lost-my-soul-can-you-help]

Character Description Attempt #1

Seated on his throne, Sinnar looked around the room. Rays of gold shone through the curtains, the fabric so thin it could easily be cut with a sword. Lights of burgundy and gold reflected on the marble floor, a mirage of an ocean of blood pooling around his feet. Sinnar cringed. Click. The clock on the far-right hand corner of the wall shifted, the king feeling his stomach drop. Boom. An echo resounded in his mind. Too loud. Sinnar’s eyes grew wide, and he quickly looked around the throne room once more.

No, it wasn’t a throne room, it was a battle ground, where the ground was murky and destroyed, where bodies lay scattered about, and wherever he stepped, blood seeped into his shoes, onto his feet. He felt his breakfast rising up. What breakfast? This was war, there was barely anything to eat. Click. A gun cocking, or was it the clock? Boom. The king ducked, the sound of a bullet barely grazing his ear vibrating to his core. Sinnar wretched. He looked, and blood soaked the ground, a large pool of red liquid that came, from where? Looking at his kingly clothes, no, war veteran clothes now, he saw the blood, a vibrant target to the enemies.

Click. No not again. Boom. Sinnar felt nothing. Had it passed over him? His vision blurred, around him. Did he get hit? Grass passed by his vision and he was falling, falling in a black void with nothing around him but the bodies of his allies and enemies. Yet, compared to him, they were sitting, and they each had the widest, toothy grin Sinnar had ever seen.

Suddenly, laughter erupted all around him, his mind exploding in pain. Make it stop, please! When the king thought they were done, they would start again, his allies and enemies both laughing at him, while they all fell for an infinite amount of time. Click. The sound sounded right beside his ear and he jumped, feeling the coldness of a gun barrel against his temple. He looked to his left, and emotions wrapped around his heart. Tinet. Small little, insufferable Tinet.

The boy was barely sixteen, and pain gripped at his soul. This boy was dead because of him, because of his selfish order. Tinet’s eyes were void of anything, only the reflection of Sinnar brought some life back into him, his complexion light as the brightest star in the night sky, and his skin, rippled with gunshots and burnt flesh, peeling off like a bad sunburn. Click. The gun cocked again. Slowly, Tinet started to smirk, with every cocking of the weapon. Click. The laughter became background noise. Click. It was only Tinet and him falling through this abyss. Click. A monstrous grin flashed before Sinnar’s eyes, almost hungrily devouring all of the boy’s face. Click. The king stopped falling, his breath escaping with a loud gasp, pain cracked his ribs. Immobile and useless, that was who Sinnar was at the moment. Click. Laughter from Tinet’s motionless grin. It echoed like a torturous melody on repeat. Why was this happening? Boom.

The king’s eyes flared open, sweat dribbling down his back and forehead.

Click.

The clock chimed. Sinnar looked to his throne room, white marbled floor expanded as far as he could see and the burgundy curtains had been pulled back, spilling the golden light of the sun on the floor, instead of a bloody ocean.

Click.

Sinnar exhaled a breath, and hungrily inhaled for more air. Peaking through the cracks of the door, young servants looked to see the disheveled king, gasping for air, his heart’s pounding vibrating throughout the room. Having been caught, the servants scattered through the different mazes of the castle, the king alone once more. Sinnar relaxed on his throne, yet his mind raced with a million thoughts.

Click.

The clock chimed for the last time, and laughter erupted from everywhere.

[i-lost-my-soul-can-you-help]

A sunflower in a garden of daisy's, reminded me that you were the sun in everyone's life, the one who always wanted to be different.

Life had been unkind to me these past few months. Everything seemed to be falling apart. Memories of our time together was fleeting from my mind, from the places that we had visited. Our friendship failed at the worst time, and every night I cried myself to sleep, wondering where I went wrong. You seemed happy without me, but I was desperate, depressed even. I did everything I could to rid you of my thoughts. Yet, you seemed to be everywhere that I looked. A sunflower in a garden of daisy's, reminded me that you were the sun in everyone's life, the one who always wanted to be different. The smell of the ocean whenever I visited the beach was a reminder of your free spirit, or that untamable soul within that body of yours. That lone willow tree in the meadow we found a couple years back, a reminder that you are the epitome of beauty, the definition of strong-willed and dependent of everyone around you. When the sun hides behind the clouds, I am reminded of your timid behavior when we first met in preschool. You ran behind your father, never to look me in the eyes, when all I wanted to do was look into your golden eyes, and your freckled face.

As we grew up, we bonded over the weirdest things. We had little in common, you were the rainbow after the storm, while I was the thunder that people cowered away from. Maybe that’s why I fell in love with you. But I never stood a chance, did I? You loved and you broke down, while I was always the shoulder to cry on.

My time finally came when I invited you over, and I was about to confess my love for you.

Looking back, your dying corpse in my arms, blood splattered on the wall and floor, I regret everything. Your last words weren't meant to hurt me as much as I did to you. You deserved the pain, the cuts, the hollowness I felt when you rejected my love. While you died in my arms, my tears splashing on your bloodstained cheek, I asked you if I ever stood a chance. You cried, tears of sadness and pain, as you took a final breath.

Life has been unkind to me these past few months. Every time I visit your gravestone, your words echo through my mind. "That’s the sad part- you did once." Our memories together are gone from my thoughts, but the color red will always remind me of the day you rejected me, and I killed you.

[i-lost-my-soul-can-you-help]

Ten Days...

Ten days to plan, execute and clean up a murder. More precisely...

Your husband’s murder.

It’s a game of cat and mouse, and only a matter of time before one or the other makes the killing blow.