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Rated: E · Chapter · Supernatural · #1573078
The beginning of a story.
Prologue:          

He took the pillow between his thumb and forefinger.  Pausing, he looked up at me questioningly.  I nodded, as if to say go ahead.

His eyes never leaving mine, he tore the pillow into two neat halves.  The muscles in his arms did not move, and his eyes never blinked.  I shivered. 

He glanced down at the mess he had made.  At the feathers swirling around our feet, floating briefly on the warm summer air, then landing without a sound on the green grass below. 

“I’m sorry,” He said, voice low, “I did not mean to scare you.”

I hadn’t realized my face was paralyzed in the very portrait of fear.  I tried to pull my face into a smile, and failed miserably.   

“Do not be afraid,” He whispered, reaching out a hand. 

I instinctively flinched away, taking a step backwards as I went.  I instantly knew I had crossed the line.   

His face darkened, and his eyes filled with bitingly cold fury.  In a strained voice  he asked softly, “Is something wrong.”

Tears filled my eyes.  Run, I told myself.  But my feet were frozen, my eyes couldn’t escape his livid gaze. 

In a soft voice I hurriedly said, “I-I’m so s-sorry, I didn’t mean…”

But I never got to finish my sentence.  Because before I did, he pounced. 

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