DAYLIGHT & SNOW BY WOLFLOVER42/ALYSSA “THE NIGHTS ARE WASHED IN MOONLIGHT. FLASHES OF WHITE AND BLACK SOAR THROUGH THE SKY – ANGELS. HOWLS SPLIT THE AIR – SHAPE-SHIFTERS. HUMANS ARE GONE. THE PARANORMAL RUN THIS WORLD NOW.” (A STORY OF COURAGE, BLOOD, TRUTH AND LIES, DANGER AND SECRETS, FINDING WHO YOU ARE, AND OVERCOMING YOUR ENEMIES; OF FORBIDDEN LOVE AND NOT LISTENING TO THE RULES OF SOCIETY; OF DOING WHAT YOU LOVE, LOVING DESPITE THE RULES; WAR BETWEEN HEAVEN AND HELL; AND THAT FEAR OUT RULES EVERYTHING, EVEN LOVE.) PART ONE: THE SHAPE-SHIFTER PROLOGUE: BLOOD AND MOONLIGHT “THE MOON IS ALWAYS FULL FOR US. THAT’S NOT WHAT YOU WANT TO HEAR.” ~THE DEAD WEATHER, ‘ROLLING IN ON A BURNING TIRE’ My nights were dark and bloody, my days painful and blinding. I lay in my cell, rough stones slick with blood. There is no comfort, no windows. I cling to the bars, searching the total darkness for a sign of movement, but my eyesight is too weak. The only light I receive is from the bluish moonlight slicing its way through cracks in the mortar. It creeps in my cell, shedding its dimness on my legs, showing the gruesome red welts and gashes on my legs. They make me wear a thin, ratty dress to my knees. My arms, neck, and throat are uncovered, subject to dirt and blood and any diseases lying around. Of course, through my misery, I knew the chances of picking up a disease are one in a million. My masters keep this place cleaner than anyone could imagine. I’ve lost all sense of time here. It’s been many, many years of course, but the days drag on so tediously painful that the agony washes away my sense of anything. I don’t know my own age, though many wrinkles crease my grayish skin yet. My hair is long and tangled, unwashed and hanging in limp black ropes to the backs of my knees. I think it was once a pretty blonde-white. Once someone lost to me had told me I had beautiful eyes. I haven’t seen them. There were no mirrors, and I was never out when it had rained, so never have I seen a reflection of me. I had heavy doubt that my eyes would be very pretty squinting in the dark and barely seeing any sunlight in years. For a long while, my only companion was myself. I kept my sanity, and I never talked aloud to myself. And never had I heard the guards speak outside of my cell. But one day they made quite the commotion, yelling and cursing. Even through that, their voices were like the sweetest melodies. There were sounds of grunts, scuffling and moans of pain. I peered through the bars, only to jump back in pure fear when one of their shadowed faces snarled at me. I listened instead, as another one of the cell gates screeched open. There was a heavy yet hollow thud, like a body. A few laughed maliciously, a lilting giggle to anyone not like them. They slammed the bars shut with a metallic shriek, leaving me and my new prisoner alone in pitch blackness. I pressed myself against the adjourned stone wall, a small barred window just short of my reach above my head. Someone was groaning and most likely retching. As soon as they had left, my longing for a companion had burst from me, and I wanted to speak to this new person. There were so many questions I had to ask. But as I listened, I figured I’d have to wait. Whoever it was, a he or she needed some food. Knowing where I stood, so skinny my ribs prodded into my skin, he wouldn’t get much more than I did. The next day however, I was brought a tray of thick soup, told my neighbor received the same. It was like this for a few weeks, until I was much stronger and slightly happier. Then they took us out and up. Stumbling and nearly falling up rocky stone stairs, I was blinded by bright morning sun. It was warm and delicious against my body, a surge of energy running through my veins like fire. I felt free and young. My moment was crushed instantly when they ordered us to begin working: pulling weeds from their gardens, trimming hedges, cutting down trees the width of two of me. But they knew they were in control, and we would never disobey, so they rarely kept an eye on us. We gradually came to speaking terms whilst we talked away the sweaty days. We formed a quick but strong bond, together in our slavery and aloneness. He told me his name was Griffin, and mine Madeline. And from then on, time seemed to move forward again. Despite the backbreaking pain of kneeling and skin-tearing tasks of weed pulling, he was my light in the dark. He was charming and sweet, and I didn’t care about his looks. He was just like me, covered in cuts and grime. His hair was long and curly, once some other color than charred black. His eyes were shining blue, bluer than the sky. One night, we were working late. We snuck away, hiding in a copse of silver-glimmering rowan trees. The moon was full and bright, and we experimented with our freedom. It was one of the best nights of my life. We weren’t caught until the next morning, where we were whipped harshly and separated for a month. We continued our duties alone. When our punishment was finished, we spent even more time together, though continued strictly with our chores. They watched us where they could see us, but we couldn’t see them. After a couple days, they began to feed us more nutritious food. I didn’t complain or question it. And at midnight, we would talk softly through the bars of the high window. Then I realized I was changing. It hit me when Griffin met me by our tree. His loving smile crashed into a horrified gap. His eyes were wide with warring emotions of love, hurt, and – most of all – fear. I immediately assumed the worst, thinking I was turned into some hideous creature. But when he shook me by my shoulders and started whimpering, What have we done? What have we done? They’ll never let us be together now. Frightened, I demanded what in the world he was talking about. He answered by taking my wrists and resting them upon my own stomach. It clicked instantly, and I broke down in tears. But I wasn’t mistreated once during those nine months, given healthy rich food, and even given a bed. Griffin never told me if he was getting the worst. He took up my responsibilities without a word. All the same, it was hell. The pain, the sickness – the hurt, for not being allowed near him most days. I wanted him by my side all through the hours of day and night, but they forbade it for fear of it affecting me wrongly. I watched in whirling emotions as my anorexic frame grew and widened into twice my size. An incredible thing, I realized, just in so wrong a place. If I did survive, if I did have a child, it would live anywhere but here. Any place not a stone-cold hell. When I awoke one morning to metallic screeching, I thought I would vomit. There was angelically cruel laughter, like someone enjoying watching another die. And the dying screams of the helpless creature. My heart hammered too hard against my ribs, my tears choking me. I could barely make a word; make a sound, because right then, I knew who was dying. There was fiery light flooding in from the adjourned window above me, flickering like flames. It was as if those flames were devouring me, every bite of agony snapping at Griffin was burning me. I wanted to scream and writhe and do everything in my power to save him. But we were separated by stone and metal, and that was how it would always be. Their laughter faded into voices as Griffin’s will to live began to ebb. I couldn’t imagine was horrible things they were doing to him. This is your punishment. You will stay here. We will provide. Whatever they provided, it would never be enough. When Griffin was as far dead as they liked, they tossed his mangled body in front of my cell. I threw up everywhere, tears mixing with my food. He was drenched in black-red blood, flesh and bone so contorted it was barely recognizable as human. I sobbed for the rest of the night and into the day, barely eating. I had never felt so much love, so much passion as I did for Griffin. Now he was gone. The only things I held dear now were my unborn child and my life. If I didn’t have my baby, then there was nothing left for me. One night, I was sleeping restlessly, plagued by nightmares of blood and moonlight. I heard a sound, a soft clicking, and hindered breathing. I jerked awake, body tense and racing with adrenaline. Had they come for me? I saw nothing in the darkness, nothing but pure shadow behind bars. There was no moonlight tonight. I felt exposed, undefended more than ever, like a lone leaf in a terrible hurricane. Anything could kill me in an instant. But as I searched in vain for movement, I felt my heart drop through the floor. Opening up faster than I expected were a pair of luminescent gold-silver eyes. They blinked, becoming wide-pupiled, and shone with power. They seemed to float in the darkness. Was this a cruel joke? I curled in the corner, hugging myself in fear, mind fruitlessly coming up with a solution to this. But I was simply too paralyzed to move. A jaw appeared under the eyes, baring razor-sharp, milk-white fangs. By the way of this, it was recognizable as a wolf. It growled, and the eyes and teeth melted into dark. I didn’t move, and a second later, a man’s face peered through the bars. He had the same eyes as the wolf. I didn’t know what he was. His face was weary, but animated at the same time – he was motivated. “Come on,” he beckoned in a sweet tone. He didn’t seem to want to harm me. “I’m getting you out. You have to hurry! Come!” I didn’t move a muscle. Was I supposed to follow a complete stranger with wolf eyes, who claimed to want to free me? How was I supposed to know he wasn’t going to kill me on the spot, or get me killed later? His gold eyes were shot through with silver. They flashed in sudden annoyance. “If you don’t come, you will die.” He nodded toward my stomach, which I wrapped my hands protectively around. “Along with your child. Come with me. Please. I have someplace safe for you.” When I didn’t answer, he grumbled. He gripped the bars between his hands, and with a look of intense concentration, he yanked. The entire wall of bars ripped off their rusty hinges and smashed against the wall behind the man. I was free, should I choose to move. I swallowed bile. Another second passed, and then the man took control. He carefully hoisted me up in his feverishly warm arms, pressing me to his hot chest. It was a balm to years of cold and decay. He ran through the dungeons, past stone and metal. We didn’t pass any of them, and for that I was grateful. Pain came in starbursts, but I bit it back and closed my eyes against the jolting of the man’s running. We reached fresh air, but he kept running. We didn’t stop, but if we ever did, I couldn’t remember… I do remember a few things. My past life was swept away, and Griffin will ever be in my heart.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Hey, guys! I hoped you read and enjoyed this! It is the Prologue of ‘Daylight & Snow’, a novel I’m hoping to publish one day – after a lot of proofreading and changes! But I wanted something dangerous, full of action and romance and blood and horror and fantasy; something that people won’t want to put down and love just as much as Twilight or The Hunger Games. Maybe it won’t be my first published book, because I love another one of my novel more (‘Ryder’s Angel’), but I promise I’ll get it up there someday, one way or another. There’s so much more to come, I promise! It goes from confusing to just a melee of whhhaaaaatttt? I’m working out the kinks, and I want this to be super complex but have all the crazy ties come together at the end in the epic finale. How I’m going to do that, I have no idea! Now, I have to make it up to 2,500 words. I am totally lost on how to do that because I’ve gotten what I want in this chapter, so… Sadly, I’m rambling. I’m not the best at it. so if you just want to stop here and not waste any more minutes of your young lives, then feel free to do so. I’m always looking for more people to look at my stuff. I’ve added chaos to my life and put myself and my work on a bazillion sites,