there was nothing she liked about him, nothing at all.
Elijah had only barely turned eighteen. She was a small, frail girl with a quiet, careful nature. Her fair skin bore no shortage of freckle and scar alike. She wasn’t anything to look twice at, especially with her huge doe eyes that were rimmed red and off-set by deep, purple bruising. Her mother, on the other hand, was rather known for her cliche beauty. Elijah’s missing cheekbones under soft, pudgy flesh were no match her her mother’s high, sharp points and sparkling blue eyes. But, even at first glance, there was no mistaking that they were mother and daughter. They had the same fair skin, blue eyes, and almost peach, almost tawny, colored hair. She bore no resemblance to her father.
The trees passed quickly, their limbs swayed frantically in the wind that threatened to pull them from the earth. She blinked the sleep from her eyes, rubbing at them with the back of her hand. She shifted in her seat and pulled at the seat belt that was beginning to form a rash on her neck. She licked her lips, feeling the dryness of them that matched her throat. Had they stopped while she slept?
The morning light glimmered through the window, casting shadows that stretched up along the walls with tree-like precision. Her brown eyes fluttered open, sticky with lack of sleep and yesterday’s make up. She rubbed at them absently, looking at the back of her hand where a black smudge met with a faded grey one from rubbing at her eyes in the night.
The fire escape’s rusty-rough handles didn’t help the fact that the heavy drizzle caused the steps to be slippery. Her one broken heel scraped across the stairs, sending a putrid noise echoing off the closed up windows of late-night New York City. She caught herself, her knee just a hair’s width from slamming into the lock-jaw rust. Panting, she looked up at the single open window, a tattered grey curtain flopped miserably out of it into the rain. She pushed back her hair, ultimately smearing whatever was left of her make up.
Nuka hesitated, his hand that was formerly stretched out had retracted and clutched at his shirt. He was holding his breath as he peered down at the small child. So tiny, it’s little chest rose and fell in it’s deep slumber. He shifted, moving a step closer and resting his chin on his knees. Unsure of how to act, he watched the child for a while. When it began to stir, he jolted back from his daze… This child was unable to live down here, and the chances of it even surviving his touch were little to none. Regulars of it’s kind would absorb his toxins and have the possibility of dying.
Devil’s Tramping Ground a wooded section of Chatham County, North Carolina. A forty foot in diameter circle, can be found there. Any objects that appear in the circle will mysteriously disappear or get moved from within the circle. No wildlife, vegetation, or inanimate objects can be found in the circle known as the Devil’s Tramping Ground. This phenomenon was first discovered in the early 1800s and is believed that Satan paces around this circle and ponders about ways to undo mankind..
boy scout troups have tried camping on it, and woken up in their tents a few miles away. Some guys tried to stay up all night in a tent on the spot, and later reported that a soft, soothing melodic voice lulled them to sleep and they too woke up a few miles away
Anyone wanna go there with me? We can bring salt, holy water, and a Bible.