Blight

Chapter 1.

Thank you so much to everybody that watched the first part of this sequel 'Scarred', the success of the story can only go up from here and I appreciate the fact that so many of you loved it.

I've worked very hard on this and I know it's taken a while to come, but here is the second part of the sequel 'Blight'. A third one will be coming after this very very soon, and it will be the final book in this series, so I hope it grips your attention just like Scarred did.

Please don't read this if you haven't read Scarred, it would make so much more sense if you read Scarred first so you can get to know the characters and familiarize yourself with the important events that happen that are brought into this story as well.

Thanks for the support guys, I hope it continues xx

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At a particular moment in time, in this complex, linear, interwoven timeline that one may simply call life, a smile was viciously thrust upon a bright face. So contagious it created a flow chart between the entire room. The soft touch of a special material carefully caressing the bones of a once naked finger. The restful cries of a once secluded character, tired of the confinement the magical body part brought it. The tingle of a once solitary tongue, suddenly blessed with the inner characteristics of a colorful platter of dough.

Elation is the one emotion stomping on all the other ones trying to take centre stage. All at one particular moment in time; for a particular amount of people.

But not for Theo Lockhart.

His hands hid the pale streak that had ridden his face; his head hung low, giving his sleek black hair a chance to shine against the rare Manhattan sun.

"How can she be gone? Gone where?" The woman that stood above him, but a few feet away from him questioned, her lips quivering as she spoke. She knew not to close the space between her and her son. She knew it would suffocate him. Conclude to him how genuine the reality of that moment was.

Her words injected plainly into his ear, but his brain was far too busy processing one thing. It couldn't possibly process another.

"Theo? Theo? Where is she? Where is Eliza?" Once again, no sound escaped from his mouth. One could possibly conclude that his hand was cuddling it too tight, but his mother knew him better than that. After careful deliberation, she gently placed her hand on his shoulder, to which she exhaled a tense sigh of relief after feeling him stir slightly.

"I don't know," he finally spoke, jumping up from the floor in an instant. She watched him broadly as he circled the room, stopping at every corner, feeling everything he can get his hands on. "All her stuff's gone," he monotonously noted. "All her fucking stuff is gone!"

His fist began to pound harshly against the cream colored wall, the smooth layout of it facing jeopardy from Theo's merciless knuckles.

"Theo, stop. Theo, stop it!" His mother, Dana, ordered - a twinge of fear settled in her tone. She placed both of her hands on either side of his shoulders, and turned him around to her. Tears rose to the surface of her retina at seeing the anger attacking every single feature on his face. His eyes were as rash as thunder, and simultaneously as sharp as the devil's tongue. His nose had risen so far up, they were eligible to get up and walk away from his face. His lips welcomed a fresh cut to the edge of it, the bristled pink tone of it more resembling weathered blood than anything else.