Death is My BFF Rewritten (Book 1 of the Rewritten Death Chronicles)

Chapter 24: This Cupcake Seriously Needs Her Stud Muffin

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                It was hot and sticky, like it had recently rained, with no wind. I smelled a farm; manure and aged straw bedding in a barn. I opened my eyes to the strange, supernatural world I was in, finding myself laying behind a fairly large stone house, with a few flowery weeds scratching my cheek and tangled in my long black hair. I sat up in a gasp, and my assumptions were correct. I was on a farm.

            "I will ssssssssshow you the ansssswer you ssssssseek, Faith Williamsssss. But it will come at a priccccce."

            Alright, so the creepy snake-sounding dude had taken me to Old McDonald's Farm. Figured. My eyes darted to a boy at my side, I immediately realized I was no longer in the twenty-first century. Like, at all.

            "Well crap," I said.

            He sat a mere five or six feet away from me, squatting under the shade of the gorgeous, blooming apple tree, which draped over us with its long, emerald green arms. The boy's body was small and dirty, and he wore baggy pants and a tucked in, torn up shirt. He was maybe around twelve years old, from what I could see, but it was clear by the unusual muscles in his arms and the environment around us, that even at his young age, he was a farm boy and easily lugged around things much heavier than myself. His hair was golden, curly and long enough that it fell in ringlets over his face. Similar to his skin, it was dirty, and had a twig stuck vertically in it that in the modern age, perhaps coul have been pulled off as "vintage". 

            I was as still as a statue, being the boy, who was becoming more enchanting to me by the second, was still oblivious of my presence. Or, I thought, he can't see or hear me in this bizarre place Mirror Man took me.

            I focused on the collection of rocks the boy's feet, a snake's skin and different sized sticks he had collected, as well as an odd-shaped blade that reminded me of a jagged, golden crescent moon. The blade had odd symbols on it, and as I stared at it, the boy happened to pick it up with his tanned fingers, replacing twig with the blade and continuing to illustrate in the dirt.

            Suddenly, with deft fingers, the boy quickly buried the blade into the ground.

            First, I had heard a rich, foreign language I could not understand, which made me turn my head towards a young woman who had quietly been approaching us, but as if I had a translator, her foreign words converted to, "What's wrong, my love?"

            The new stranger looked only a few years older than me, and was without a doubt the most beautiful woman being I had ever seen in my life. She had soft features, flawless olive toned skin, spiraling gold locks, and an average body type. What initially caught my attention were her eyes, which were a deep emerald and so haunting, it was as if they were cruelly set in stone like that for an eternity.      

            I knew those eyes far too well.

            Except the ones that I couldn't get out of my head, were two mismatched shades of green.

            Even as she squatted down next to the boy with the messy hair over his face, smiling down at him, those eyes of hers remained in the same recurring state, and now, now I had an unpleasant feeling in my gut that the little boy I had been watching curiously, was no typical little boy. Not in the slightest.