Sorry I haven't been posting a lot lately.

I have been very tired and stressed out with school but Spring Break is coming up soon which means I can get back to working on Whispers in the Dark. This is relatively old considering the fact that I am going to rewrite what I have so far of WitD in first person and Bane is no longer in the first scene. He'll come in much later, only his character won't be as psychotic...if you can even call him that.

If you're interested in knowing what Jo (main character) and Bane look like, here they are on a mock-cover I made a few days ago. It turned out better than I thought it would.

Everyone was gone.

“There’s no need to run, Jo.”

“Leave me alone!”

“I won’t leave you alone until you give me what I need.”

Jo could feel him inside of her, controlling her body like she was a puppet and he was the puppet master. Her body belonged to him in that moment. She was just a spectator who couldn’t control anything, not her legs, her arms, or her mind.

He took her to the window at the end of the hall. The angels painted on the stained glass looked down at her, and she silently begged them for mercy, only they didn’t seem to want to show her any. Two hands fell on her shoulders, and gently pushed her into the glass. Her hands flew out in front of her instinctively.

She braced herself for the fall.

“I promise you won't feel a thing,” Bane whispered. “Now...jump.”

Though she didn’t want to - she could feel herself complying, giving in to his commands. Stepping back a few paces, Jo ran forward and smashed through the window. Glass cut at her skin, delving into her face, her arms. She sucked in as much air as she could, hoping to extinguish the scream burning in her throat.

Bane’s laughter grated against her eardrums. She could hear it as she made her ascent to the ground. Arms flailing, wind whipping through her hair, Jo waited for her body to crash into the pavement. She waited for her bones to shatter into a billion pieces, for her life to end in the middle of the sidewalk.

Only her life never ended.

The ground she had been anticipating didn’t come into contact with her body. Instead it disappeared – vanished into thin air only to be replaced by a river that refused to shimmer in the moonlight. It was like a black hole, one that reeled Jo in like a fish, speeding up her fall. She broke the surface in a matter of seconds, feeling like she was being stabbed by a thousand needles.

Her feet kicked out instinctively. Jo wasn’t the best swimmer in the world, but the few lessons that she did have were better than nothing. She swam blindly through the inky black water, fingers searching for something to grab a hold of, something to guide her to shore.


Intense scene! And you know I love these kind of stories (with characters sharing bodies or compelled to do what the other tells them)


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