The Purge

She was running down a narrow tunnel. She could no longer see what she was running from; it was just a silhouette now. The tunnel suddenly widened as she turned her head around to face where she was going. As she turned she saw the end, the light so bright it seemed white.
If only she could get there, she could… She could what? A question she couldn’t seem to answer… Soon she came to the opening. Pausing to take a breath, she stepped through.
What she saw as she stepped through took her breath away. She was standing on a small ledge no bigger than three metres, if that, and in all but one direction fell into the oblivion below. She could just see the cliff tops on the other side of the abyss with its deep red sandstone; it was a good mile away. To her right there was path that led into the dark forbidding chasm.
Hearing the rustle of robe she turned around. Just in side of the tunnel stood a cloaked man with his face covered in the shadow of a hood. He took a step towards her and he did so he lifted his hood.

Grace Ohsberka woke screaming. This was not the first time she had had this dream but it always felt fresh and new. Whilst it was obvious it was her dream, Grace always felt she was spying on someone else, as if this would happen, or has happened to some poor soul out there.

As she sat up her long brown hair covered her face. For a second as she brushed it back she revealed her long and pointy ears, the source of more bullying than the fact that she had been adopted.

After looking around at her Barbie pink bedroom, she walked to her desk. God I need to redecorate. She thought for the millionth time. Looking at the clock she realised with a start that it was already mid-morning. As she was about to go downstairs, she suddenly remembered that crazy journal she had. Her good friend Zacaim Small - A mysterious man, but still very much a strong part of her life, had given it to her. Rummaging through the drawers in her desk, Grace found it lying on the floor next to her chair, as always closed expect to her touch. As she reached for the clasp  snake like shape opened up. She shuddered as she felt the snake leather to her skin; she only used it because Zacaim seemed to think it was important for her to note down those dreams that kept coming to her, that one with the tunnel appeared more than most. She wrote the newest things that happened and closed the book.
Retrieving the clothes that she was going to wear she sat on her garish pink bed and got dressed quickly.

After checking to see what possessions she might need for the day she went downstairs. She lived alone these days, with both her foster parents dead. They had left the house and all of its contents to her. It was a fair size building, more than big enough for her needs, if she was honest to herself, too big for her needs. She had known she was fostered for most of her life, in fact since she was six.
Grace could only just remember the day her foster parents died, She had been out with a few of her friends, and was just about to open the door when the door knob, along with half of her house exploded in her hand. Amazingly she was unharmed apart from a few grazes from where she hit the road from flying across it. She didn't remember much else but, the one thing she would remember for the rest of her life was Zacaim Small walking out of the front of house carrying out the corpses of her family putting them down and sobbing into the sleeve of Graces mums' shirt.
looking at the picture of her family on the wall in front of her, Grace suddenly wished she could forget the pain and suffering in her past and start again with her mother, father and 3 year old sister back (My god Grace suddenly thought, She would be 16 today). Wiping the single tear from her eye, Grace looked away from that image of the four of them.


The Old Man came out of his Magic induced sleep suddenly. The Magic had made his magical sense's so much stronger, it never ceased to amaze him, the power he had in that sleep, if only he could keep hold of some of it when he woke, he knew it had been possible in the past, but he had never been granted access to those important abilities. It was time. Picking his long black walking staff, he set off.
I had better find her quick; he thought it will happen soon. Drawing on the little magic he had left these days he searched her out.

Grace was just sitting down to her breakfast, when she got the feeling that she was being watched by someone, distant. Looking around to check the living she was soon satisfied she was alone. As soon as she had, the feeling just vanished out of the air. Shrugging the feeling off, she turned on the TV.
"And in other news..."

Oh... Someone else has died then... Poor bastard" Grace thought rather coldly.
She got the feeling of being watched again, Ok now I’m know I’m not imagining it She thought, and a split second later I think I had better meet up with Rosie. And with that final thought started a chain of events that would change both of their lives forever.

The End

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