This novel is limited to 100 free copies due to its part in Inkitt’s Novel Contest.
None of you ever notice me, but I always notice you. I sneak up and grab you by the throat when you least expect it, just when you think you’ve escaped me.
I don’t particularly like my job, but I must admit that there’s a certain thrill to it, snipping the thread that binds you to this place. You’d be surprised how easy it is to take you. It’s because I don’t know you, I think. It would be harder if I did. So far I’ve managed to remain cold and impersonal to you, to all of your pain and suffering. I am an estranged relative that everyone must meet eventually.
You’re all so careless in your youth. You don’t realize how fragile you are. In fact, I think that some of you are just a little bit in love with me. Or at least my idea. When you do finally see my face, you cry out in fright and try to flee.
Not Rick Heron though. No, he has seen far too much of me throughout his twenty-two years to be afraid. I became something to be accepted as a part of of his life after a while.
Rick Heron and I first met when I took his mother. She was very young, barely twenty-four, and Mister Heron was only six. He gripped her hand as she sweat with fever, her lungs struggling to provide the air that she needed.
I was quiet by nature, my feet as soundless as a feather falling to the floor when I came, but he looked up and caught me all the same. We stared at each other for several long moments, and in the end it was I who broke our gaze. Rick Heron was but a child. It was his mother’s soul that I sought.
Her thread was thin already; it took just the lightest of snips to sever it. As his mother’s soul joined mine in eternity, Rick Heron’s eyes never left me. They bore into my back as I slipped from the room. Just a child. A child that didn’t know any better than to meet my gaze.
The second time I took his brother. The boy was four, Rick Heron was eight. Oddly enough the younger Heron was afflicted by the same illness that had claimed his mother. It was ironically hilarious in a dark kind of way. Rick Heron and his father were with the boy when I came to collect him. And, just as with the mother, Heron looked up and caught my eye.
He seemed startled, but not very surprised. It was as if Rick Heron could sense what good acquaintances we would become. Notice how I abstained in using the word ‘friend’. No no one could ever know me that well, no matter how often we met.
After I took his brother, Rick Heron tried to touch me. He reached a small, quivering, hand out towards me, but I backed away and he reached only his brother’s young head, already beginning to grow cold. His father cried, but Rick Heron did not. He was too busy watching me.
We spoke, the third time. I thought I’d come for Mister Heron himself but he proved to be a stubborn one. He clung to his thread like the mother I’d taken had clung to him once upon a time. He’d been beaten badly, a limp thirteen year old lying in the school yard. His uniform was red with blood that was sure to stain.
Rick Heron summoned all his strength to stare into my eyes again. Even weak and blood spattered he smiled at me.
“I’d like ta stay here please,” he whispered. “Me dad needs me ya see.”
“You don’t get to choose.”
“Me own life. I ain’t be ready yet. I’ll go when I say so, I will.” Rick Heron’s voice was steady and never wavered for a moment. “See y’again one day. When no one needs me no more, aye?”
“Aye,” my own voice was unsure, startled by the pitiful being’s confidence.
Blood dripped down his chin when he smiled.
He was grown the fourth time. A handsome man of twenty years. There was a woman on his arm and a small girl-child on his leg. They stood before his father as I snipped the thread. Infection. Shame. The man had been an excellent cobbler. Rick Heron did not cry as his wife and child did. Instead he silently nodded to me when they weren’t looking.
I took everything on my fifth visit. Frothing river water choked the woman and child as I severed their threads, and this time the man raged. He threw plates and screamed his pain, cursed me and my name.
“How could ye take them, vile creature?! How could ye?”
But still, he did not cry.
We met for the sixth and last time a month after the drowning. It was bloody and loud and awful, but through it all, Rick Heron smiled. His body, trampled by a horse and it’s carriage, lay broken on the streets of the Irish capital.
“Forgive me, eh?” For last month?” his eyes were pleading. “I was angry. I was.... Just angry.”
“I forgive you,” I whispered.
“That’s a mate.”
A hand, no longer small and quivering, but large and calloused reached towards me. I took it firmly and, eyes never leaving his smiling face, snipped the most resilient thread that I ever met.
Rick Heron never shed a tear.
Hudson: Your story was fantastic Erin! The Rising Sun was one of the first stories I read on Inkitt, and I have to say I don't regret the three to four days I spent pouring through the story.Probably the biggest strength I see in your writing is your characterisation of Eliana, Oriens, and the rest of th...
Marijana1: The melancholy present throughout this story has the power to influence and etch into the minds of the readers, to stay there and refuse to leave even after they have finished reading the story. This is a deep, powerful story, making the readers wonder about everything – about love, about their e...
JWalker: I loved this story from start to finish! It flows at a really nice pace and the story world feels so real. The fight sequences are a treat especially when Isanfyre is training to become a warrior. I found the names really cool and thankfully easy to pronounce. Personally I have always struggled w...
Bri Hoffer: I couldn't put it down!! The characters are all incredibly likable, and it's so descriptive you can see, smell, and feel thier surroundings. Great story, and very well written. I cannot wait for follow up stories. there were a few grammatical errors, but nothing that I could move right over.
matrixmark: I thought that the introduction to this was relly well written and structurally sound in its presentation.The introduction to the cabin in the woods was good too. To me, it felt like a Blair Witch of yesteryear, but the things which you added in about the mutilated boys were certainly something n...
Alani Foreigner: I absolutely loved how you created this story. It isn't like the other cliché stories I've ever read. I had just started reading it yesterday and just had to finish it. The main characters are grotesquely awesome and I fell in love with them. If you're into fantasy and stuff I can guarantee that ...
Stephen Warner: To start off, I am thoroughly impressed. The writing style is somewhat unique, and the plot seemed to move at a nice and steady pace. However, I was not expecting this to be a vampire book! I am usually not one for novels about vampires, but I was pleasantly surprised! You wrote with such grace a...
Alex Rushmer: This was not what I expected, but I enjoyed it a lot Malfoy was always one of the characters that I liked a lot, so I like that a lot of this happens between him and Colette. I read the first couple chapters, and I enjoyed your writing style and am excited to see where you take this story. My com...
Kevin Brand: My overall rating: 4.8/5 starsLoved. Every. Second. Everytime I came back to continue reading I got this overwhelming feeling of getting hooked on the first sentence... Over and over and again!The only things that were missing for me include more descriptions on what happens when Reuben touches s...
harry142018: This story was gripping and very professionally written. With lots of twists and slight of hand tricks, the author deceives the reader until finally showing their cards at the end. With several subplots all intertwining to create the main plot, this really is an interesting and engaging read.