Thanks. So, um, prologue. It is one of the main characters reflecting on the final battle that is to come. It's rather short, and really vague, but I meant for it to be.

Prologue

Rae

Even when I open my eyes the nightmare continues. This time, though, the unbearable loss is tangible, the agonizing terror is palpable, and there is no waking up just as the monster lunges for my throat-- for my heart has already been ripped out.

Immediately, I leap to my blistered feet, my hazel, bloodshot, red-rimmed eyes darting around the empty room. The fact that I dozed off terrifies me. This house is not safe; caution is essential, although the chances of survival are slim.

Still, there is a chance.

I pick my way across the room vigilantly, avoiding the spots that creak. I know that lurking in the shadows could be my end. My painful, early end. And if I am not careful, this next false step could be my last. Silently I rummage through my pocket, sifting through its contents: a tarnished spoon, a dime, two halves of a broken pencil, a sharp, silver butter knife, and the knowledge that every single one of these objects has hurt someone, killed someone.

The silver knife, glinting wickedly in the amber afternoon gloom of the dark house, is clutched tightly in my clammy palm as I skulk down the corridor. The only sound is the pounding of my heart, which is somehow still beating, even after everything that has happened-- everything I’ve survived through, and everything they had not.

I grip the weapon tighter, well aware that the more I do this, the more I accept my legacy-- my past as an ungrateful, edgy, rebel, and my future as one of the most infamous criminals in American history.

But the present, I’m learning, is hard enough when the world is out to kill you, and you are out to kill the world.

Then the first chapter begins (from the beginning)

What do you think?

Yes, post the prologue! Sounds dark, but interesting. :)

Andy P. C. says aydf. Aydif could work for Lillet's brother. Sorry, talking about my newest novel. Heh heh.

~Wolfgirl67 signing off.

Publish. This. Novel. So. I. Can. Read. The. Rest.

Andy P. C. says yhuh. Yeah huh...he agrees!

~Wolfgirl67 signing off.

Thanks everyone! Perhaps I will post just a bit more. Just because I'm conceited and enjoying this praise too much. But then that's it!

The autumn sun, in its last, failed, desperate attempt to keep a solid grip on the sky, has bled gaudy red and orange color all over the clouds and the fallen leaves on the stiff ground. Below there is a single, vigilant witness, his pale blue gaze peering unblinkingly at it all through a shaggy mess of blonde hair. It is not the last time seventeen-year-old Skylar Honeycutt will see violence, but it is the last time he will see the sunset.

The sun, unable to hang on anymore, loses its hold on the horizon and tumbles down, leaving the Midwest sky, Skylar’s whole world, in suffocating darkness. The night struggles breathlessly for a moment, trying to gain its footing, until the moon rolls up, smiling a curved grin, its missing pieces blossoming into twinkling stars.