Tempestuous
Description
When Shim Hyunjeong, a famous journalist at Soul of Seoul magazine, is offered the biggest break of her career, she willingly sacrifices her perfect urban life to live in the dense South Korean forestland of Neukyong.
After all, it's only a research project. All she has to do is write a report on the forest, the people and their unbelievably droll werewolf myths. Go back home. Perhaps win some awards. Perfect.
Right?
Why, then, does close in at the mere mention of the place?
Why is there no mention of Neukyong on any of her maps?
Why do the locals avoid that forest?
She has the sudden, tempestuous urge to find out on her own. It's all a myth and she would prove it. Werewolves don't exist. There is nothing to be afraid of.
And then the howls begin.
tempestuous
adjective
characterized by strong and turbulent or conflicting emotion.
© 2014 gamioja
Please do not plagiarize or redistribute in any manner.
This is an entirely original storyline.
Any resemblance to any existing person, place or event is purely coincidental and unintentional.
This is an entirely original storyline.
Any resemblance to any existing person, place or event is purely coincidental and unintentional.
He stiffened, almost into a statue, a sculpture. He yanked me closer to him and covered my mouth. I involuntarily inhaled his rich, earthy scent.
I can't believe it, this secret I've stumbled upon.
Had he meant to show me?
The forest grew silent. A shadow shifted.
It was as if someone was watching us. Someone... or something.
An image of a set of sparkling topaz eyes flashed before my eyes.
Had Luhan followed us here? No, it couldn't be him.
They are listening, watching, waiting.
He pressed his hand harder on my mouth. I couldn't breathe. Spots of coloured light hindered my vision.
"K-Kris!" I tried to say, but any sounds I made were muffled. No one could hear me, no one knew where I was.
"Sorry," Kris' whispered breath agitated the hair on the back of my neck. His grip on me slowly loosened. "I have to do this."
His eyes smoldered into mine with an emotion I couldn't quite place. It was almost pitiful. It worried me.
It frightened me.
In one swift movement, he tossed me onto his back and leapt off the precipice of the cliff, plunging gracefully into the unknown abyss.
I tried to scream, but no sound escaped my lips. I shut my eyes against the wind.
Images of my dead comrades flashed before my eyes. I couldn't save them. But in moments, I would end up just like them.
Fate works in mysterious ways, or so I've heard.
Blood. Blood everywhere.
Kris wouldn't do that. He isn't behind this. Kris wouldn't kill.
He had saved me before, hadn't he?
Suddenly, I wasn't so sure.
NOTE: Due to personal reasons, I as an author had taken a really long hiatus. I'm still incredibly busy, so I don't see myself finding the time to write (or even read) fanfics. I am truly sorry for the inconvenience, but I'll try to update whenever I can. I make no promises, though.
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