Luna`s Truth

chapter four: The mysterious stranger

Eva`s pov.

"Please, "I whispered, my voice barely audible. "Leave me alone...don't....don't hurt me,"

They laughed, closing in on me.

"Oh, so you can beg too," one of them said sarcastically.

Just as they were about to grab me, a dark figure appeared out of nowhere. The men were thrown aside with inhuman strength in a twinkle of an eye. How could one man single-handedly fight and defeat four men with such ease? He seemed to have done it effortlessly. I would have wanted to move away from the scene and watch from a safer distance, but I was too exhausted to react, so I watched in dazed confusion as the stranger dealt with my attackers.

When the men fled, the stranger turned to me. His eyes, piercing and intense, met mine. Though I was feeling dizzy and my eyes heavy at the time, I could still notice that he was tall, handsome, with an air of mystery.

"Miss, did they touch you?" he asked, his voice deep and calm." Are you hurt?"

I tried to speak but my vision blurred. The last thing I saw before passing out was his concerned face eyeing me suspiciously.

Alex`s pov.

I looked for a better spot to put her down, but I couldn't find any. There were no chairs. The stool in the corner looked like it was about to fall out any minute. I looked around, with her in my arms, but there was no bed either. There was barely any furniture, so I gently laid her on the floor of the house. I couldn't help but scan her filthy and frail form.

As I looked at her, questions began to race through my mind. Why was she so dirty? What could she have been doing alone at night? Why did she choose to walk on that lonely and dangerous route? Does she have a family? Why was she living here? This house wasn't fit for an animal, leave alone a human being.

It was in a bad state. Really bad. As I walked around, the full extent of its despair became evident. The walls were covered in grime, the windows boarded up and cracked, cobwebs hung from the corners of the ceiling and the floor was littered with debris. Dust floated in the air, illuminated by the moonlight streaming through the gaps in the board. The air was thick with the musty smell of decay.

Returning to her, I squatted beside her and looked at her closely.

Her dress, once perhaps of a light color, was now torn, stained and almost devoid of its original state. There were traces of faint blood too. The fabric was so worn out that it barely held together. I could see bits of her skin, marred by bruises. Had she struggled this much? I wondered what could have happened to her. She looked young; in my opinion, she was supposed to be with her parents. Her sandals were falling apart. They looked a bit old.

While I was laying her down earlier, I noticed that the hem of her dress rose up, revealing tattoos on her thighs. Intrigued, I gently lifted the dress a little higher to get a better look. They looked like nothing I had seen before. I leaned in to have a better look: a beautifully crafted crescent moon, its curves detailed with intricate patterns that seemed to glow faintly in the dim light. Surrounding the moon were delicate blood-red droplets, artistically arranged to appear as though they were gently falling. The design was so detailed and precise that it seemed to pulsate with a hidden energy, suggesting a deep and profound significance that intrigued me more.

At that moment, she stirred. Her eyes fluttered open, and she saw my hands on her dress. Panic seized her. Without thinking, she grabbed a nearby piece of wood and struck me hard on the shoulder.

"What the hell! What was that for?" I exclaimed, wincing in pain.

She scrambled back, her eyes wide with fear.

"Stay away from me!" she cried, holding the piece of wood defensively.

I held up my hands in a I-surrender- gesture.

"I`m not going to harm or do anything to hurt you," I said calmly. "I am just trying to help."

Her grip on the wood loosened, but she didn't lower it.

"Trying to help with your hands on my dress?"

"It's not what you're thinking..."

"Did you lift it?" she asked, cutting me short.

"Yes, but in my defense, I just wanted to see your tattoos,"

She quickly adjusted her dress.

"Why should I believe you?" she asked, her voice shaking.

"Because if I had any evil intentions, I would have allowed those men to have their way with you." I replied, my tone a matter-of-fact.

"But I brought you here instead; safe and sound."

She was quiet for a bit.

"How did you know where I live?"

"You were mumbling something about an abandoned house on the edge of town before you passed out, so I managed to follow your directions."

She stared at me, trying to gauge my sincerity. My eyes held a steady, reassuring gaze and, slowly, she lowered the wood.

"Why did you help me? "

"Oh, maybe I should leave then," I said, standing up.

"Stop!... I'm sorry," she whispered, as I was about to walk out.

"I didn't hear you well, you said..."

"I'm sorry," she repeated even before I could finish my sentence; of course, I was just pulling her legs.

I nodded, rubbing my shoulder.

"It's okay. Let's get you something to eat."

"I'm not hungry," she responded. Just then, her tommy growled loudly.

"Tell that to your empty stomach," I teased, and she smiled.She was stubborn.

As she sat there, catching her breath, I tried to read her mind but to my surprise, I found that I couldn't. This had never happened before and it intrigued me more. Who was this girl? I slowly went close to her and took the piece of wood from her, just incase.

I looked at her face. Her eyes were a striking color, unlike anything I had seen before, and those tattoos...they seemed significant, though I couldn't place why. Everything about her was mysterious. Was she a human to begin with?

"I'll be back in a moment," I said, standing up and heading out of the house.

She watched me leave, still on edge but too exhausted to move. Her stomach growled again. She must have been starving. When last did she eat?

I moved quickly through the dark streets, my mind still racing with thousands of questions that I had no answers to. I found a small shop still open and purchased some bread, cheese, water and milk. As I returned to the house, I couldn't shake the feeling that there was something extraordinary about her.

Back at the house, I found her trying to sit upright, her eyes wary but calmer. I handed her the food and water, and she took it with shaking hands.

"Thank you," she muttered, taking a bite of the bread.

I watched her as she ate like it was the best thing she had tasted in a long time, poor thing. I pitied her situation.

"What's your name?" I asked gently.

"Evelyn," she replied between bites.

"And your surname?"

"I don't have one," she said, looking at me with an expressionless face.

"I'm Alexander," I said, offering a small smile." "But you can call me Alex."

She nodded and continued eating. I studied her quietly, determined to unravel the mystery she represented. I couldn't read her mind, but perhaps in time, she would trust me enough to share her story. For now, I was content watching over her.