Fear held Rob so tightly he’d stopped trying to get away. He hardly breathed, his lips blue, pupils rolled up into his head and arms and legs rigid. I looked to Farmer. There was fear there, too, but he was concentrated over a small bowl, grinding dried leaves, letting them fall into it. He passed a hand over them and they ignited, burning swiftly, leaving a brown dust.
As he spread this around the pentagram Rob relaxed, slumping flat to the ground, breathing fast. The lights flickered off and on again, crackling. And something hissed loudly inside the black nothingness.
D.M. about 5 years ago
and now I wait with them for more! Captivating series!