Post by Emelia Campbell on Jun 29, 2018 18:24:11 GMT
- Cause they know that you own it -
Hitting the reins hard against the horses back side she didn’t know he dropped the book. She had no time to really pay attention to small details, but when she figured about seven or eight blocks away was good enough she slowed the carriage down to a trot, then to a full stop in a large alleyway.
Taking a deep breath she looked back into the coach at Casey seeing he was alright, but her eyes wandered to his hands. “You lost the book!?” Her voice was filled with fear as she sat back up. She sat as straight as a rod and covered her face in her hands. ‘Think, think, think… there has to be some way to get out of this… a spell… or a potion… or… just something!’
She wasn’t in control of this place and that gave fear more control over her mind. She couldn’t think straight as her breath hitched in her chest. Her shoulders shook with repressed sobs as she wiped away defiant tears that escaped her lids. “It’s okay. It’s okay…” She tried taking a deep breath and let it out through shaking lips. “Casey, you made this story, when is it safe from the killer? What time?” She asked looking back through the little window.
Casey watched the town scenery whipping by as the horses galloped. He couldn't help but be impressed with the way that Emma was handling all this. How she wasn't a big ball of blubbery tears was beyond him. I mean, they saw a guy's head come off man! When the carriage stopped Casey crawled out of the box and onto the cobble stone street. The street was still shrouded in a heavy thick fog that settled around his thighs. Everything below that was just hard to see. He couldn't see his own two feet down there.
Casey took Emalia's hand and helped her down from the box, careful not to get to close to the horse because well fuck that horse. Emma was spouting something about potions and spells. "Wait....wait, just what are you talking about? You mean like witch craft? I don't think this is witch craft..." His hands were tingling. An odd pins and needles feeling pushed through his finger tips every time he considered something creative. Something with his imagination. It was his lack and utter copmlete non control of the situation, but he had the potential..... He just didn't realize it.
"Well... The story wasn't done. Just a concept really." Casey rubbed his chin as he stepped up on the sidewalk. He was walking as he was talking. No particular destination in mind, he just thought it best to get out of the street where any crazy murderers might find them. He knew this wasn't over.... He could feel it in his heart.
"Well, I suppose the town wouldn't be safe until dawn. The whole point is the town is cursed with this unstoppable supernatural killer who doesn't go away until morning and then he just kinda fades away like a ghost.....Uh.... And then Casey looked up at the clock and realized how time flies it was going to be dawn in two minutes!" He looked up but nothing....
It was still only 2 in the morning. His power would not allow him to cheat here. "I don't understand. How is any of this even possible?!? And back there? What did you do to that guy with the axe?" Casey looked at Emma seriously for a second. "We need to know all the facts if we're going to survive." Before she could answer him a voice called out. "Strangers! In here! Tis'nt safe to be on the streets after nightfall! Hurry in my shop before it comes back for more!" Casey looked at Emma and grabbed her hand dragging her into the safety of sanctuary.
