Nelani Nettrour              Fantasy               Third Millennium Publishing

A Fatal Blow

Artwork by Joshua W. Nettrour, © 2000

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Life has a way of twisting, shifting—altering even the most well formed plans.  Each is left struggling to find answers to questions they’d never dreamed they would have to face—choices of one, impacting the whole.

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Excerpt from A Fatal Blow

          She felt an eeriness as she entered the house—a touch of panic as the door closed behind her.  Suddenly she felt trapped and she wanted desperately to run—anywhere—it didn’t matter, but she held herself back.  She had to see this through.  She knew this wasn’t going to be easy and that she chose to willingly face what she’d barely escaped.  But she also knew that she was the one, the only one to do this.  She tried to focus her attention on something other than her trepidation.  Slowly she turned to examine the room.  The ceilings were very high and decorated with rather grotesque images.  She loved creatures of all shapes and sizes and found beauty in most, even the most absurd, but the images that surrounded the room looked more like demons than anything else she could think of.  Different expressions of horror, ferocity and brutality exuded from their faces.  She felt a shiver of apprehension go down her spine. 

         The room was shaded and the curtains drawn.  It smelled of disuse.  She supposed he didn’t have many guests calling on him—willingly that is.  A blanket of dread covered her, choking out her good intentions.  She had to fight against the fear.  It was starting to smother her.  Too many evil acts had been done in this house.  It was impossible for her to ignore them.  They vibrated within the very complexion of the walls, the floors, the building.  She chided herself for coming and wished again that she could escape.  Nothing in the room was welcoming in the least.  She tried to relax, but wasn’t able to.  She paced around the room, nervously—feeling overwhelmed by the images encircling her.  Memories of her captivity gripped her.  If she hadn’t held herself back forcefully she knew she would have fled in terror.

         She tried to keep her eyes off the faces, but they seemed to be watching her, waiting for her to make a foolish move.  They almost appeared alive, although they were encased in stone.  They seemed ready to spring into action with the slightest provocation.  She had the strangest feeling that if she let her guard down for even a moment—they would capture her and carry her off to the Portal of the Dead.  She told herself it was a silly notion.  She reminded herself of what had brought her there.  She remembered the sorrow and grief that she’d just witnesses.  The darkness, the vileness of it, still clung to her memory.

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Page was last edited on 06/02/15 09:05:34 PM






Nelani A. Nettrour

March 15, 2000 - March 15, 2002