Free Soul of Darkness by Vanessa Black

viewed it as an out-of-body experience…in slow motion…detached…unable to do anything to fight against…
     
    …my own demise.
     
    My body, only just drained of the power I would have needed in order to defend myself, lay weak and vulnerable as I watched a thin, glowing crack appear in midair, from where it gradually spread outward and tore its way through the fabric of reality, opening a portal right in front of my eyes.
    With no time to react, and without the use of my magic, I could do nothing but watch in absolute horror as three huge, aggressive-looking men came through the portal and charged at me with hate-filled features…and murder glinting in their eyes.
    Even before they reached me, I already knew all was lost. And though I tried to fight them off with my body if not by magic, I was of course no match against the powerfully built brutes before me.
    While two of them pinned me against the mattress, the third plunged his hand into the inner pocket of his jacket and extracted a mean-looking, curved knife. It glinted dangerously in the light emanating from the still open portal as he swung it in a high arc right above my heart.
    My thoughts jumped to a time when I’d found myself faced with the same kind of danger, when Aidan had saved me an instant before the blade had been able to strike.
    But no one would rescue me now. I had personally seen to it when I’d knocked Aaron and Aidan out cold in an attempt to salvage the situation.
    That salvation was now proving to be my downfall. I had a moment to appreciate the irony before the swinging blade plunged into my heart.
    A searing pain shot through my body…and I lay stunned, a deafening silence enveloping me. Around me I could sense commotion and the vibrations of loud and jeering voices, but I didn’t hear a sound. My eyes followed the movement of the blade as it was pulled back out of my heart, its once shining metal now coated with blood.
    I followed the blood’s progress as it leisurely dripped from the blade, almost seeming to hover in the air before sailing toward my body…as though it were waiting with purpose, positioning itself at the right angle before letting itself fall…wanting to create the perfect painting on the pristine white canvas of my silk pajamas.
    ‘Bloody Art’, as opposed to Andy Warhol’s ‘Piss Paintings’, was all I could think in my shocked state of mind.
    I looked up into the eyes of my murderer and saw only a cold glint of contempt. That seemed to be all I would get from him.
    Yet he owed me so much more…
    But there was no compassion in this killer’s eyes.
    And with thoughts of what I would be leaving behind, of all that was lost, and vowing not to forgive the one who had just taken my life, my exhausted eyes fell closed, and I listened as the men withdrew and the portal closed once more.
    It seemed they’d only wanted me, and I silently thanked whatever power was responsible for sparing the lives of the two men who had given me so much.
    As my blood slowly trickled from my wounded heart, I remembere d― vividl y― every moment I had spent with either of them…every look…every touch.
    And I recalled having continuously doubted if what any of us felt was real, thinking that perhaps our feelings had been entirely fabricated by a higher power.
    But did it even matter?
    Yes, it matters, whispered a small voice…my own…the part of me that had always dreamed of finding the one .
    A very romantic notion.
    Nevertheless, there it was…I admitted it: I was a hopeless romantic. And I wanted to believe in true love…epic love…and happily ever after.
    However, until we could put the curse behind us, none of us would be any the wiser about the real nature of our emotions. Secretly hoping that day might come, I’d tried my hardest to sort out my feelings, not wanting to endanger the future I might have with one of them by getting involved too deeply with the other.
    For, if there was one thing I knew beyond a shadow