My Demon

Nora Lovely has always been unique in her own way, but she's not normal in the slightest. She sees things, and sometimes hears things. She always sees a man in these visions, and she is determined to find out who he is. She soon finds out that the man in her dreams is real, but according to history is long dead. She goes in search of answers, and soon is taken captive inside a house that belonged to this man known as Iron mansion. This house holds mysteries, and the man that owns it can answer all of her questions.
She's walking amongst the Immortal, and some don't take kindly to who she resembles.

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16. Time Loop

We arrived at the house a little bit after seven, and although the sky was dim the drive way was full of expensive cars. I looked at Iron flashing a smile, but I was nervous out of my mind. I looked down at my hands to notice that they were shaking, but before I could put my other hand on it Iron put his on mine. I looked up into his eyes, “ It’s gonna be alright. Maybe he just wanted you to be here for something important.” I smiled as he brought my hand up to his mouth kissing it. I push my hair behind my ear, “Okay, lets go get this over with.” A smile spread across his, and my hand fell from his. I opened the door, and climbed out at the same time Iron did. My heart was pounding in my chest as we approached the front door, and as we stepped up onto the plat form the door swung open. 

“I hate you mom,” Mark emerged from the house. His eyes locked on mine, and he stopped in front of me. His eyes shifted to Iron, and then he looked back to me. He turned quickly as a woman grabbed his arm, “Markus is you don’t cut this out right now......” The woman looked me up and down, and did the same thing to Iron. I felt like she was looking into my soul, and I wanted to leave. Iron took my hand intertwining out fingers, he squeezed it gently. I let my breath come freely, and I felt my body relax. I smiled as my father came into view, but then everything stopped. I looked at Iron, and he turned to me with a confused look on his face. I waved my hand in front of the woman’s face, but she didn’t move neither did she move. 

I looked at Iron once more, and his eyes were black. “Doom, whats going on?” He didn’t answer, but instead he pulled me to him. I hit his body hard, and the one thing that helped me know that he wasn’t Iron was the tattoo that appeared up and down his arms. I felt something sharp go into my arm, and my entire body went lips. The last think I saw was the face of Doom.

When I woke up I was lying in a bed, and this was no ordinary bed. This looked like something out a medieval movie. The decor was black and dark, but the room reminded me of Iron’s room. I sat up in the bed, and I jumped as a woman came into view in front of me. She was tall, and she had long blonde hair. She just sat there and stared at me, and then she started to smile. “Miss, Lord     Iron will be with you shortly.” She ran for the door before I could ask any other questions. I looked down at my body to notice that I was dressed rather strangely. I couldn’t say that I wasn’t intrigued by all of this, but something wasn’t right. I climbed out of bed, and instead my feet hitting carpet. They hit stone. 

I walked over to a dresser that sat in the far corner, but as I approached it my heat skipped a beat. The door creaked open, and I swung around to see Iron standing in the door way. A wave of relief went through me, “Oh, Iron. What happened.” I ran to him about to hug him, but he backed away. I looked into those green eyes, and something was different. “Name yourself,” his voice was strong and serious. “Iron, what are you-” “You will call me by Lord Iron. Now state your name.” I ran my hand through my hair, “My name is Nora, you know that.” It was like he didn’t know who I was. Iron crossed his arms, “Now, Nora, why are you on my property?” 

“What are you talking about, I was.......” It was a silence in the room, and Iron cleared his throat. “What year is it?” He looked utterly confused by my questions, “It’s 1565, now answer.” I grabbed his hand, and he tried to pull away. “It’s the seventeenth century!” Oh, no.

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