This is an excerpt of the last part of the first chapter, "Sinner". The story, Cimmerian River, is a fantasy paranormal novel and I really want it to be good. Please do take a look and please give some comments. Thanks!
It didn't take very long for me to reach Brooklyn Bridge. Though the rains had stopped the dark curves of the greyed clouds continued it deep rumbling, glowering upon the earth.
I glared back at the skies, pulling my jacket tighter around myself.
Amid the throng of people striding steadily across the bridge, I stopped in its middle. I shut my eyes, hands tightening around the rails, before I opened them again as I always did.
The wind of salt and sea lashed my hair back as the East River twisted and swirled its seductive dance beneath my feet. Black cracks drove through the stone, wind-bitten and rough beneath my fingers. Under the failing sunlight, all was grey.
I inhaled deeply, relishing the salty, polluted air.
Brooklyn Bridge was beautiful.It was old, cracked, and salt-stained, but beautiful. I loved the height. With the rippling winds and rolling clouds, it was the closest I could feel to flying. Like with a single step forward, I could fly into an oblivion and never come back.
I walked it constantly with my father, when he was still alive. He would raise a hand, gesture to the distance and say, "You can see everything from here." He was as free as I could ever remember the moment he stepped foot on the bridge, the stress lines on his face replaced instantly with a crinkle-eyed smile that would had me grinning like an idiot alongside him.
"I can see everything," I whispered, then fisted my hand and pounded it against the stone, the stinging pain coupled with a frustrated anger.No, I couldn't see everything. Everything was dark and dull and had the word 'loss' written all over it.
My father died when I was twelve. Logan was dead while I had lived, albeit scarred. I did not think I could watch Cristian Kane walk away, even though he would be back. Maybe I had to, because I was a sinner.
"Kasia!"
I twisted instantly, eyes latching on Cristian as he sprinted towards me.My heart hammered, and it wasn't because he was here. Forced into movement by the sinking feeling of my stomach, I started towards him as he shouted something else that was lost in the feral crash of thunder. Only was I closer that I saw his lips move in a single word:
Run.
Everything was slow. Those who heard Cristian stopped walking, confused. They turned in the direction he had come from, and their eyes opened wide.
It was suddenly cold. Then somebody screamed.
The crowd surged against me as I darted towards Cristian, abandoning all caution. Ear-splitting cries clouded all else. Cables snapped and the bridge dipped dangerously. I slipped downward instinctively, finding balance as people stumbled.
I didn't know why I didn't run. People screamed. They threw others in their wake as they fled whatever was coming. Oddly disconnected from their panic, I shoved forward.
My eyes never left his.As we closed the distance between us, I raised my hand, and he mirrored my movement.
I should have looked away, but I didn't. I should have listened when he shouted for me to run, but I didn't. And the price I had to pay was to watch him stop a few feet away from me, pale blue irises fixed briefly on mine. Then he blinked, and there was nothing left in them.No fear, no sorrow, not even regret.
He took a step forward before his knees gave way beneath him and he fell to the floor, revealing the knife that stabbed his back.
I howled, the desperation exploding with a vengeance.
Around me, something kindled. I was forced to the ground as fire responded to my cry with a roared, and paired with it, the high-pitched keen of strained cables. Something crashed violently to the ground.In an instant, my vision was washed in red.
The colours would have been mesmerizing. A vortex of red, orange, yellow and white that twirled their harsh, resplendent ballet around me. But the flames swallowed everything in their path. They flared, impassioned and irascible. They would burn the world to ashes—starting with Cristian.
Added (1). I lunged forward into the flames, instincts primal and feral. I gripped the hilt of the dagger and tore it from his flesh, and pressed a hand to his chest.
The crimson pool around him reflected the dance of the flames. I felt their heat, but I no longer feared them. Blood flowed steadily, lovers to a call.
At that, something snapped within me. A low melody was building up in the midst of the violence, rising into a violent scream.It grew louder and harsher, until it reached a crescendo, and then—
Silence.
There was nothing left. Cristian didn't move, and with his stillness, the flames had cowered.
Suddenly, I realized: the price of being a sinner wasn't watching Cristian walk away.
It was watching him die while I lived.
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