Donnerstag, 19. Juni 2014

Ausschnitt aus Snowrose[Schneerose]

Im September erscheint mein Debütroman "Schneerose" in Englisch und ich liebe es meine Geschichte in dieser Sprache nochmal neu zu lesen. Obwohl der Inhalt gleich ist, klingt alles irgendwie direkt ganz neu und aufregend :D

- Prologue -

  Her feet are bloody and blistering from the scorching desert sand. The sun beats down mercilessly on her unprotected head, while the skin of her naked body begins to flake. Her parched lips are cracked and in ruin. For all intents and purposes you would think her close to death – but nothing is ever as it seems. With reptilian ease she sheds the dead sheath of her old skin, only to emerge once again in full bloom.
And yet – any man who would glimpse her for just the fleetest second would fall for this creature without any thought or reason – even in her current state with her flaking skin and features burned beyond anything recognisable as human. As if in the grasp of an impossible mirage, he would fall to his knees before here burned and blistered feet, ready and willing to do her bidding – whatever that might be. But she would pass him by without a single glance, while his entire being would beg for her to notice him, cringing in the dust like a dog eager to please his mistress. There will never be another man worthy of the blood red gaze of her eyes.
Betrayal is man’s most loyal companion. Her first she left of her own free will because he wanted to break her will, wanted to own her whole being as you would a slave. The second, who would no longer walk this Earth anymore without her, cast her away in fear of becoming her minion. She had taken him in when he was lost, and lonely, had given him sustenance, warmth and even love. A love that could have lasted through the ages – but he had preferred the company of the unworthy because he had recognised her terrible beauty and immeasurable power. He knew he would never – could never – be her equal.
It would have been so easy to snuff out his life, but she is the mistress of time itself. Her life is longer than that of any other – why then should she end a life she could toy with for centuries to come? Patience is a virtue only few can call their own – but she is the mistress of time. She can wait. She will remain in the shadows as a silent observer and will wait until he begins to feel safe once again, because he would never be able to forget her. Nobody, who has ever met her was ever able to forget her.
Driven by hatred, she continues on, setting one foot in front of the other, day after day, night after night. She has infinity at her disposal, enough time to devise the most brutal revenge. And it will come as an utter surprise, her revenge. Nobody will expect it, which will make it that much more cruel and merciless.
She will destroy every last one of his disgusting creations, until the last of his creatures are gone. They are weak and without hope. So much different from the children she will bring into this world, glowing with the beauty and power she will bestow on them. Her children will be the true masters of this Earth, perfect to the last detail and with the brains they will need to rule and think – not just to carry around a pretty face.
As she finally reaches the edge of the Red Sea, her feet bring the water to a boil at every step. It bubbles around her blistering skin as if it were touching red-hot coals. Her form is obscured by thickening veils of rising steam with every step she takes deeper into the water. Like an evening mist it begins to spread towards the land, diminishing only as she turns and walks back towards the shore. The setting sun lets her hair flow like red licking flames around her head, creating a startling contrast to the emerald green of her eyes. Gone is the flaked, blistered skin, replaced by a velvety suppleness, smoother than that of a newborn child.
The goddess of life has awakened, as young as the Earth, and she will only cease to be once the Earth herself will fade and die.