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Find showtimes, watch trailers, browse photos, track your Watchlist and rate your favorite movies and TV shows on your phone or tablet! IMDb More. Keep track of everything you watch; tell your friends. Full Cast and Crew. Release Dates. Official Sites. Company Credits. Technical Specs. Plot Summary. Plot Keywords. Parents Guide. External Sites. User Reviews. User Ratings. External Reviews. Metacritic Reviews. Photo Gallery. Trailers and Videos. Crazy Credits. Alternate Versions. Rate This. A young woman with a mysterious past lands in Southport, North Carolina where her bond with a widower forces her to confront the dark secret that haunts her.

From metacritic. Our Favorite Trailers of the Week. Top 25 Highest Grossing Romantic Dramas. Movies to Watch. Share this Rating Title: Safe Haven 6. Use the HTML below. You must be a registered user to use the IMDb rating plugin. Learn more More Like This. The Lucky One Drama Romance. Dear John I Drama Romance War. The Longest Ride The Best of Me The Last Song Drama Music Romance. The Vow A Walk to Remember Stuart had never seen the cat before, or known its actual name. He had been able to confirm that she had owned a cat at one point from photographs and conversations with neighbors, but it must have died or ran away around the time Stuart was born.

Behavior like this is expected from her in these stages, but this struck Stuart in particular. The tower is where Stuart lived. And rabbits don't climb. It was somewhat unnerving… but it was also nonsense. She was most likely imaginating events that she's just perceiving as real… but what if she was watching someone break in? Stuart was suspicious of this. It wasn't unlikely that she could have associated an actual rabbit she saw with a burglar.

She didn't seem to care. Stuart ran to check every valuable possession he could think of; silverware, heirlooms, caches hidden inside of wardrobes and, floor boards. Everything seemed to be accounted for. Stuart thought for a second. This is silly. If a burglar came in, they would've taken whatever they could carry. That aside, wouldn't they have come at night?

I would have seen them… I suppose it's also not unlikely that she confused a squirrel or some other rodent with a rabbit. Why am I acting so paranoid? Stuart took a long drag on his cigarette and made his way back to Acacia's room; this stress was going to kill him one day. He shouldn't be worrying about this. It wasn't as if it would matter if something was stolen; he was being evicted regardless.

Stuart entered her room again, to see her still staring out of her window; most likely watching for her rabbits. I wanted to know if you would like to go out for a walk? It's a gorgeous night. Fresh air might do her well after being cooped up in that stuffy old bedroom. And after all, it had been quite a while since the two spent any more time than absolutely necessary. Acacia had always been a frail woman. Stuart, lifting her onto the chair, could feel just how light she was; she couldn't have weighed more than a few ounces.

He carried her past the slightly worn stairs, and pushed her chair out the door, and across the dirt path. The two didn't talk; they didn't need to. Stuart was just happy to be in someone's company, and the silence allowed them to fully appreciate the garden in front of them. Most of the land had been converted to farmland, but Stuart had had this part of the land preserved.

Acacia had used to take immense pride in her gardening; she had used to do it all herself, but now, with no one to oversee it, it had become overrun with overgrowth. Still, even in its current state, it did still have its charms; the vines growing freely over the masonry, the rusted fountains; long since been drained of water.

It was the type of place that made Stuart want to explore in, as if he was playing in ancient ruins, long since forgotten… Though sadly, with no one to play with, he did less adventuring, and more reading while sitting under a nearby tree or pillar. He knew she most likely would not remember this, but what he did know was that in this very moment, she was happy.

He also knew that this was most likely the last time he would be seeing her. He should be enjoying her company while he had it, but he just couldn't get his mind off of losing everything; the house, the garden, Acacia, his books. Before he knew of it, an hour had passed. He looked over to the old woman; asleep. He chuckled briefly, almost like he had expected it, and grasped her chair. Remembering his shortage of proper literature, he realized that this might be the last time he would be able to hit the bookstore before he would have to move out himself.

He made his way back to the house, aided Acacia in putting herself to bed, and prepared himself for the trip, fetching his old books, his tool bag, and sneakers. The word around town was that a ghost haunted this little book shop. The story changed every time it was told, but the general consensus was that an older couple had built the store from the ground up before the town settled its roots. The two lived happily together until one night, they were visited by a demon, which supposedly tore their soul from their bodies, and trapped them inside the shop.

They said that when the clock striked in the morning, the demon made its rounds, checking on those poor souls who fell prey to its horrible clutches… or, the far more likely version, Stuart was swapping out his old books for ones he hadn't read yet around that time. The locals were quite superstitious about ghosts and demons and whatnot. You could hardly throw a stick without it hitting a building with some history of a curse put on it.

Stuart placed his hand against the store's back door. He remembered his first few times coming here, and how he had to crawl through the basement window and fall into the pitch-black storage cellar. He was fortunate that the lock to the back door was easy to bypass. Now, he simply slipped his pocket knife in between the backdoor's bolt and the face-plate; comparatively easier than crawling through the mud every time he wanted a change in literature.

Ever since he discovered it, Stuart had visited this shop as often as he ran out of books to read; it was like a second home to him at this point. He must have read over half the books in the tiny little shop; it was such a shame to see that the books would go on without ever being read. Most of the authors put so much effort and thought into their work, and now this might be the last time he would visit.

Despite its abandonment, the building appeared very well-kept. Each table free of dust, each bookshelf bearing no cobwebs, and yet, each room was absent of people. If there truly was a demon or spirit possessing this place, it was surely more interested in the general upkeep of the house than harvesting souls. Stuart asked those living near the shop if anyone stopped by every now and then, but they couldn't say anything particularly useful. Regardless, Stuart treated the shop as if he was a guest in a library.

He only picked up three books at a time, made sure to return the books he borrowed from where he originally picked them up, and cleaned any mess that he could have created. He simply felt it was the right thing to do. Looking through the available works, he replaced his copy of Against Nature by Joris-Karl Huysmans, a piece he rather liked, with a copy of The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain, an American author that Stuart was beginning to hear regularly while overhearing various gossip around the town.

He was about to grab another one of his old books to replace when he noticed a bright-red envelope blatantly sticking out from the bookshelf. Stuart had been to this area of the shop multiple times; it definitely was not there before. That's when he noticed that it had his name on it. He knew that he probably should have left it there, grabbed his books, and never returned, but his curiosity was piqued; who could have possibly left this here?

And how did they know his name? He opened the letter. It wouldn't be something from someone who wanted to harm him, would it? After all, it would have been much easier to approach Stuart from behind and bag or knock him out, compared to warning him with a letter. Stuart Hayward,. Would you please accompany me upstairs? We have some things to discuss regarding your inheritance and plans for the future. Excuse my appearance. The more Stuart dug into this, the more curious he became. He was unaware of any plans Acacia had for him. Actually, he was unaware that Acacia had any 'friends' outside of her business partners.

She never left the estate much, even before Stuart moved in. He placed his books on the table, and as he approached the stairs, he began to hear a voice, faint at first, but as Stuart approached the second floor, it became more clear that this voice was singing. As he approached the source, Stuart began to recognize both what the song was, and the sublime quality of the singer's voice; the Old Maid In the Garret, sang under a quality that Stuart could only describe as angelic.

Whoever this person was, she was definitely very talented. Careful not to alert the singer to his presence, he followed the song down the hall, and towards the master bedroom. This proved to be very easy, since she was obviously already preoccupied. He put his weight up against the wall and slowly creaked the door open. Stuart looked inside to see a young woman; older than himself, but scarcely looking sixteen.

The girl was wearing a bathrobe that seemed to be ten sizes too big for her, and a red bow on the left side of her head, with long black hair that reached down to her upper back. She was facing the window opposite of the entrance, and appeared distracted. On top of her singing, she was preparing what smelled like chamomile tea… at least until Stuart opened the door further.

The creak emitting from the door appeared almost deafening; loud enough to wake the dead. As the noise reached her, two long, bone-like protrusions rose above her head, as if she were an alert rabbit. Please, sit, make yourself comfy," she continued, motioning towards a coffee table and set of chairs. You like chamomile, yes? Perhaps it was the woman's soothing voice or polite demeanor, but Stuart had the overwhelming impression that she was not going to cause any harm.

After pouring a cup for each of them, she made her way to the table and set Stuart's glass out in front of him before sitting down at the chair adjourning his. As she made herself comfortable, Stuart could clearly see her red, inhuman eyes. Her right produced a white glow in the dimly lit room, but her left seemed almost clouded, and while it did seem to give off a slight red glow, it did not seem as prominent as her other.

My name is Clovis. You can think of me as a sort of… personal servant to Acacia. It's a pleasure to finally be speaking to you. It's not exactly how I would have liked to have been introduced either. She took a sip of her tea, and continued. You have truly great taste. This was one of Acacia's blends, wasn't it? He started to regain his composure "Oh, maybe; I haven't started on it yet. Clovis, was it?

May I ask what you are? Aside from a servant? But those… ears of yours, along with those eyes, lead me to believe you aren't particularly lying either. Forgive me if I'm jumping to conclusions, but I'm inclined to believe you are instead the opposite. Clovis set her tea in her lap. I call myself an angel because 'a devil' has too many negative connotations to it. It always gives the impression that I mean to deceive or hurt you.

But I can assure you, I only have your best interest in mind. She will survive the night, but by dawn, I'm not so sure. I knew her well; Twenty-three years of service, and there's not a single moment I regret," she continued. We should see her. Clovis offered her sleeved hand to the boy, but he could not bring himself to accept it. He stood up from his seat, and made his way to the door.

And, of course, she did. As the two walked home, Clovis occasionally spoke out to Stuart if only to break the silence, but she received no response in turn. He skipped his chores, and did not go to bed at the right time, but instead stayed up to sit at the foot of Acacia's bed as Clovis stood silent next to them. Stuart could not recall the exact moment when he saw Acacia die that morning; all he could recall was seeing Clovis seemingly whisper something into Acacia's ear before she carried him off to his bed, and tucked him carefully under his blanket. He would have thought the events of last morning were only a dream if he didn't wake up to the breakfast set on the table.

The sudden discovery of warm flapjacks and bacon was somewhat unsettling at first, but the realization of the cook's identity now made it even more so. Choosing not to partake in his breakfast just yet, Stuart made his way downstairs to entertain his… guest. She was not hard to find, as she was still singing the Old Maid in the Garret, albeit in a slightly slower, sadder tone, with her back turned to him like when they first met.

Good evening Mr. Hayward; how are you feeling? I just woke up to flapjacks in my room. Did you want something from me? Clovis sighed. I would like to extend my terms of employment to you, not only as a servant, but a friend. Perhaps as a tutor or counselor. This creature, whose ilk is infamous in their lies and deceit, is offering her hand in friendship? There has to be a reason as to why you're doing this; if this is going to loop back to handing over my soul to you, I'm afraid the answer is no.

I failed to mention this before, but I'm not in the business of going through any kind of disgusting… Faustian bargains," said Clovis, making a sort of 'shoo'ing motion with the sleeves of her robe. Probably not, I don't blame you, but they're absolutely foul. They would serve no purpose to me anyway. No, they're better off sitting in your skull, fulfilling whatever purpose it set out for itself, thank you very much… Besides, yours is not for sale," she said, taking in another sip of her tea.

Of course, if you wanted me to entertain guests, I'd be happy to oblige, but you can not transfer me to anyone outside of your own blood. If it sounds easy, that's because it is.


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This is beneficial to me because so long as I am working for you, the effects of another, far worse agreement I am bound to are nullified. The only real challenge for you comes in the form of not getting either of us lynched. In most cases, I can take care of myself, but if anyone links me to you, you'll be accused of witchcraft or necromancy, regardless of whether or not you actually have been.

You make yourself sound monstrous, but I'm not seeing it. You may have your eyes and… ears? But regardless, I'd imagine those would be very simple things to hide. Do you see this terrible outfit I've adorned myself with? I've worn this for you, so I wouldn't make a horrifying first impression, but I do not plan on wearing it forever.

I'm not ashamed of my appearance, but I do understand that it's something to fear. Mildly surprised, Clovis responded "Oh, well, there's little I can do to prepare you for it. Are you sure? She detached her face mask and stood up to untie the waist belt to her robe, letting it fall to the ground, revealing a near-fleshless figure. While what skin Clovis had appeared beautifully preserved, the lower Stuart looked, the less of it she had.

She had no flesh around her mouth, leaving only a skeletal grin. Her chest and neck were mostly preserved, with the exception of the cluster of large, dried holes, giving a clear view of her inner workings. Just below the rib cage, her body seemed to have forsaken flesh entirely, leaving only a clean white skeleton behind.

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After Stuart was able to process that he was currently looking at a living, breathing skeleton, he began to recognize her other features. She had not hands, but two long, sharp bones, shaped in such a way reminiscent of a praying mantis. Her neck had a deep scar across it, as if it had been all but decapitated years ago, but then expertly stitched together. She looked to Stuart, and said "I am sorry, Mr. Hayward, I'll just put this back on," donning her coat.

Stuart sat dumbfounded. If there was any doubt about her being the devil she had claimed to be, it had just been eradicated. And yet he wasn't scared. Startled, perhaps, but scared, no. It was more like he didn't know what to think. This creature, presenting herself in all her terrifying glory, seemed to come straight out the very urban legends that the town so eagerly spread.

Then a thought came to him. I assume you are referring to whatever the residents were saying about the original tenants of the building I previously lived in, yes? A couple used to live there long before you were conceived. I knew they traveled a lot. Unfortunately though, the husband died of a sort of heart disease while the widow left behind had long since moved away… Poor dear.

She probably couldn't stand to even look at the place, let alone go through the processes of selling it. Ever since, I've been living there, keeping it clean, hiding from public view. I knew how much you love books; it was only a matter of time before it at least caught your eye. I admit, I had to push the odds in my favor to get you in the door regularly. At least until…". Inattentive caretakers and budding thugs do not make-". You do realize what I'm capable of, yes? What you are capable of? Your entire experience there will be radically different than what you think it'll be.

Can you think of one alternative that doesn't involve you becoming a vagabond? The orphanage is the only reasonable option that grants both. You were never intended to live in the estate forever. He'll come by as soon as he can. I know you've tried preventing this moment for so long, but for all it's worth, I know that you have made the right choice. I'll help you get everything settled. We only have a few days after all. As soon as Stuart reached for the knob to leave, he turned to ask "… Do you think I could I see her? The large man felt an array of emotions: annoyance for the presence in front of him, sadness for the loss of one of his beloved patients, and, probably the most prevalent, concern of the child that shouldn't be.

Clovis was no longer in her shoddy bath robe, but into a sleeveless, pink day dress, heavily contrasting her originally grim look. Rather than disguise her appearance, her outfit seemed to gild it. She made no attempt to disguise her skeletal form, leaving her boney grin uncovered by a mask, and her ribcage obscured by a corset or undershirt. It would have been a shameful outfit to wear in public if there were any flesh to show, but on her, it was beautiful, if a bit on the macabre side.

She continued. He shrugged. I regret what became of Acacia, but she was happy with her choice. They were what were holding back the plague, for example. There is a difference between legend and rumor you know. Look to the child himself. You're polite too, and you've probably done numerous things. Look, aside from my word, that's all I can give. I don't know how the Mother and Father will act, but if push comes to shove, at least someone will have a chance to stop them.

They may just want their voices to be heard, which I can support, but I can not promise a particular outcome. This is simply necessary to fend against the worst. You have done good Unsworth; act the part. The only thing left to do on your end is have your brother deliver her will to the proper channel, as it should be done anyway. You don't have to worry, as I doubt even your grandkids will live to see the end. You'll never have to hear from me again. This will be the last time I see you privately, so let me offer you a very sincere thank you. We may not have agreed on everything, but this would have been a very difficult process without you.

I didn't like opening her womb to get a proper vessel in, and I hated what a toll it had on her, but your needlework and care were greatly appreciated. I suppose it was worse for you than I; I know how much you liked her. Clovis paused, her gaze drifting off to the side. I more than liked her even… Though, I think I'm over grieving. The shell may have passed recently, but the woman truly died when we began… I have to check on Stuart, he's still in her room. Would you like to accompany me? Stepping out of the house, she checked her watch, knowing how late it was already. Sunrise was coming.

The path to Dr. Unsworth's abode to the estate was a brief one, perhaps three kilometers or so. While many were up at this time, virtually no one walked down this path but Dr. Unsworth and her. She planned it that way, 'tipping the odds' so that no one wanted to even look at it, at least at night. It was something she had done everywhere around the town, strategically turning streets into forgotten paths or buildings into infamous 'haunted houses'. The town made up their own context about the places she wanted quiet, pinning it on demons or crazed murderers that probably don't exist.

Let them; anything to let her walk undisturbed by a drunk or hysteric onlooker.

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She would have had the townspeople avoid the areas entirely, but the routes she needed to walk were so widespread, it would have raised suspicion if everyone were suddenly afraid to walk down the street in broad daylight. She only needed them to work at night, since Stuart was awake at that time, so now it only appears that everyone is simply very conscious of curfew.

After all, who isn't already disturbed by the prospect of walking down a shady road at night? Her first instinct was to retreat to the shrubbery, but she failed to move anywhere but backwards. It seemed to have already noticed her, beginning to dash toward her. It was not a person, but a large, black, wolfish figure. As it barreled towards her, she realized who this figure was meant to be. It lunged towards her, bursting into a cloud of grey flame, disappearing as soon as it arrived. Still tense from what she had seen, she scanned her surroundings.

She had put together that it was simply a figment long before it lunged towards her. It was never going to hurt her, it couldn't, but that was never what she truly feared about it. Clovis readjusted herself and looked down to see a message scrawled into the dirt, presumably left behind by the presence. These are the most important components to any kind of special action you need to perform. You're fortunate that you don't actually need to gather them like so many others. You could go mad from some of the components alone. The two sat at a table, a worksheet Clovis had drawn out for the occasion depicting a large chart of 'components' sprawled out in front of Stuart.

It had been several days since Acacia's funeral, and Stuart had become used to Clovis' presence. Unsworth had said he would look after Stuart until a representative had been arranged to deliver him to the 'Haven Harbor' orphanage, which was located somewhere just off the river Mersey.

He was expected to come by in the morning. This isn't good. He should be getting excited over practicing, not tired of it, Clovis thought to herself. Maybe he'll be better behaved if he tries it for himself to see what he is capable of? After all, he's already memorized the most important parts…. She started "Hmm… You may have a point there. How about we put this away for now, and put you up to the test?

If she had lips, Clovis would have smiled; that was it. Could you please recite them? He practically blurted out the answers. If it is or was alive, it counts. It is different from the other components in that it isn't so much a single component, but a category. Each component's properties in this category are reliant on the source, and are commonly used to alter living things over generations, conduits, and summoning… Things. It varies. It's most effective in botany and animal breeding. In my case, I'm mostly going to be using it so I can use my hands as an outlet. He rolled his eyes, and placed his hands in his pockets.

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You absorbed this information rather well. One thing though: while it can be very convenient to use your hands to carry out a action, I would not rely on it entirely. The outcome can be crude, and sometimes you'll need something with a greater range or more force, like an instrument or maybe a slingshot or wooden sword. You should keep it simple for now.

I just wanted to make sure you're approaching this safely. Let's go out to the garden and see how you fare in pract-". And with that, Stuart grabbed Clovis's arm and led her out back, who was repeatedly telling Stuart to slow down all the while. The two made their way to a clearing and sat on the lush, green grass. To put it into perspective, marking is to the arcane as a quill is to writing.

May I see your hands? As he presented his hands to her, she turned them over to show his palms. For a brief moment, they felt like pins and needles before turning to a soothing warm. Learning how to perform an arcane act is like learning a habit. The best way I can describe it is that each person has their own, wildly different approach to it, and whenever someone tries to teach it to someone else, the teacher's methods almost never agree with the student's.

It can get pretty confusing. There are some beings who are just born knowing, or things that are easy to teach with a little push. This is because they were meant to. But then there're people who need to actively learn, because they don't really need to to survive. What I've just done for you is give you the arcane equivalent of training wheels… You aren't keeping it by the way, this is just here for the next half-hour.

Clovis looked over to the side. Look behind the tree! Curious, Stuart stood up to retrieve it. He peered around the tree, and found a tall, thin gift box, roughly the size of his arm propped up against it. I want to see you open it! He grabbed the box and hurried over, genuinely happy for once in a long while. She continued as he began to open the box: "Remember when I said that using a sort of… Phylactery?

Well… I got one for you! As the lid slowly slid off and released its vacuum, he looked inside to see an ornate wood sword lying on top of a leather sheath. There was a satisfying weight to the toy as he picked it up by the hilt and turned it over, inspecting it. I was thinking I could teach you how to mark it, then how to use it, and then when we're done, I'll render it inert. That way, you can get a feel for it, and just come to me and ask whenever you want to practice. It's the only…" There was a brief pause, then suddenly, Clovis felt a tight squeeze around her midsection.

She didn't even process that Stuart was hugging her until she looked down towards him. I love it; I absolutely love it," Stuart said as he composed himself. All you have to do is apply pressure to the spot your want to mark, then focus on the symbol you want to place on that spot. That mark I put on your hands should take care of the rest. Now, I already placed a spell on this so you can practice with it, so, if we place a trigger on it…". So, be careful where you point it. Actually, let me stand behind you so I can show you how to aim," she said, positioning herself.

When you're ready, grip the handle tightly, and focus on where you want to shoot. When you're ready, s-". Then, a loud boom, followed by streams of multicolored lights erupted from the sword like ribbons, filling the night sky with an array of colors from blue to green to purple. I figured this would be a huge improvement over some fireworks or whatnot. I thought that this would be a nice experience to share… You know what sweetie? I think we can end the lesson for tonight. This is really is a huge accomplishment. It takes people years to even learn how to do that.

You'll fly through these lessons in no time at this rate. We just need to teach you how to use it responsibly. We should see about getting your bags ready… Don't worry, I'll do it for you. They're already packed so it shouldn't take long. Let's get you inside then. As the two prepared to head back inside, unmarking everything involved, bringing down the replication of the northern lights, and not forgetting the wooden sword, Stuart had realized what he had said.

He had hoped that he had perhaps misheard himself, or that, if he did call her what he thought he had, she hadn't heard it. Clovis would have been wondering if Stuart was aware of it as well, but the blush on his embarrassed expression made that answer very clear. He had been told that the representative would be there an hour ago from now. With most of his belongings packed, Stuart had very few things to do now but lie on the sofa and read.

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However, he found that reading for pleasure was far more enjoyable than reading for the sake of killing time. Unsworth had arrived hours ago to oversee Stuart's transfer while Clovis occasionally stuck her head out from upstairs to see what was going on and question why the representative was so late. Stuart had begun to wonder if he had been forgotten about just before the man actually appeared on his doorstep. The guest pounded on the door. Worried that the man would break down the door if left to himself for long enough, Dr. Unsworth hurriedly opened the door for him.

The tall man loomed over Unsworth, towering over the already large doctor. The man looked over Unsworth's head to find the child getting up to address the man, but it wasn't until the man motioned the doctor out of the way of the door before he could get a good look at him. His attire seemed more appropriate of a funeral; a black and dark grey pinstripe three piece suit, black tie, and a black hat, all of which emphasized his pale face and clammy, wrinkled hands.

As the man stepped toward he began to introduce himself. You are to accompany me to Haven Harbor, and remain silent throughout the trip unless spoken to. To start with, I simply love your blog. About the book: domestic abuse is one of the worst things in modern society today and it is good that a prominent writer like Nicholas Sparks tackled it. Although it is only a minor part of this book this is a love story , it made a huge impact on me and my own love story writing. You need to be a good and honorable man to talk about something that is a taboo in the society. Since my friend kept talking about how good the book was, I asked her if she can let me borrow the book, so two days ago I started reading it and I am completely hooked on it!

Seriously, I cannot put the book down. My friend also mentioned that the ending surprised her and I am so curious to find out what it is. I hve just finished reading Safe Haven and enjoyed every word…the characters, their feelings and the plot. Your email address will not be published. Notify me of follow-up comments by email. Notify me of new posts by email. This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

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