Rosi S. Phillips's Blog, page 6
June 21, 2014
Dying to read AGL?
Now, I know some of you haven't gotten the book for one reason or another. It's cool. But if you want to read it, I've loaded the first 8 chapters on wattpad and will load the next two chapters. So, if you want to read it... have at it!
http://www.wattpad.com/story/11999100...
http://www.wattpad.com/story/11999100...
June 10, 2014
New story is brewing
You read right, I have a new story brewing. It just hot me one day, and my mom has been telling me to write it so I finally did. So far, I've gotten positive feedback. Yeah. And I thought I'd post it on the blog. Litrotica is being a little weird with their formatting, and it's just easier to post it here. Hope you like the first three chapters of my new novel Peaches and Bane series. Thanks for the continued support!
Rosi
***
So... I'm pretty sure I'm a vampire. I'm not going to jump the gun and declare myself a blood-sucking, night-walking, sun-hating vamp just yet, but I'd bet my last bar of chocolate I'm right.
See, at the moment, I'm laying on this super, tacky metal slab freezing my—if I was a man—balls off, with this scratchy, washed-way-too-many-times sheet over top of me. Oh, and I'm butt naked. Now, I've seen about a ba-gillion crime shows and I'm almost positive—not going to throw all my eggs in a basket here—that I'm in a morgue. Just one more thing that proves my whole vampire theory.
But I guess you're properly wondering "why was your first thought vamp?" The main reason: I died. I'm one hundred and ten percent postive about this one. You see, it all began at my super, duper, hot— now—ex-boyfriends house. Me, being the cute and sincere girlfriend I am, decided to bake a batch of brownies and take it over to his place. Did we (mainly I, since both we both knew I always end up eating two-thirds of the little pieces of chocolate heaven) really need brownies? Hell no! I was, well... am, pushing a size sixteen, and my long, bottle-red hair just ain't covering up that double chin anymore.
Getting back on track, I brought brownies. Rob and I had been dating for about two years, give or take a month—which in my mind is six mouths too long without a commitment of either shared living quarters or a ring. But I'm a patient girl, and I thought Rob was worth it. He had this whole cute boy-next-door thing going on, and was just a little wilder cause he had a motorcycle. Did he ride it? No, but he had it, and that was all that counted.
Again, I'm getting off topic. I do that a lot. My mom says I have ADD, but she acts the same way so I think it's more genetic than anything. Some parents share hair color with their kids, my mother and I share a short attention span.
But back to the reason I'm pretty sure I'm a vampire and one hundred percent sure I'm dead. I went to see my boyfriend, yada, yada. Brought brownies, yada, yada. Caught him fucking the Chinese take-out man—
Oh, wait! I didn't get to that part yet. Yup, I found my boyfriend ass up, taking it from behind, while our Chinese take-out guy rammed a pretty impressive piece of equipment in his ass. To say I was shocked would be an understatement. I hate to be one of those people, but I really would have preferred to see my boyfriend with his dick in a size negative one, supermodel chick instead of the way I caught him. It wasn't just a blow to my self-esteem, but also a blow to my womanhood. There's nothing like seeing your boyfriend getting the business from another dude to remind you of that extra muffin you ate, and the few extra pounds you'd put on lately.
I, being the entirely rational person I am, stood there and screamed my head off like a banshee. Of course, Rob heard, but instead of getting limp and having his dick fall off as it should have, he came. That about sealed the deal for me. I turned in a whirl of neon pink skirts and marched out the front door. But at the front steps, I realized I still held the freaking brownies in my hands, and instead of just taking them with me, I decided to chucked them while I took a step. Clumsy me stepped wrong in my matching neon, kitten heels, turned awkwardly on my ankle, fell, and cracked my head on the pavement in front of his house.
All I remember is a hazy feeling of pain, my ears ringing, and then darkness. I also think I remember seeing blood, but it just could have been a distorted image of my pink dress, because I'm pretty sure the thing had flown up and I was flashing God and everyone.
So, here I am, laying in what I assume is a morgue with a very fresh memory of my death; my very humiliating, very embarrassing death. I jut hope Rob lied to my parents and whoever came to collect my body, and made up some believable story about how we were having passionate sex in front of his house, and he was just soooo good that I came and died. Now that is a death I can get behind.
Got sidetracked again. Silly little Peaches. Oh, right, I totally forgot to tell you my name, it's Peaches. Well, my nickname is Peaches, but my real name is Georgia Kent. In grade school my grandma used to come and pinch my cheeks and say: "chubby little cheeks, just like a peach, and good enough to eat." From that moment on I was ridiculed and my nickname became Peaches.
Now, I'm Peaches the Vampire. Wow does that sound stupid and wrong. But I mean, what other explanation is there to my sudden rebirth in a morgue. Scenario one is that the brownies I may have 'sampled' on my way to Rob's house were contaminated, and I was now a zombie. Only thing wrong with that scenario, was I didn't smell myself decompressing, I could form complete thoughts, and I was craving chocolate, not brains.
Scenario two would be that I'm in a coma. This one I could maybe get, if I didn't feel fucking, freezing cold—I mean like Hell's probably warmer the little box I was in. And why would I imagine myself in a morgue if I were in a coma? That didn't make any sense. Plus, I read somewhere that people in a coma don't dream, and it doesn't really feel like a dream but cold, harsh reality.
Option three—which is the one I'm sticking with until someone, or something, proves me wrong—is that I'm a vampire. Fact: I got a mosquito bite two weeks ago that hasn't gone away. Maybe it wasn't a mosquito bite but, like, a vampire bite. And, aside from the whole zombie thing, I don't know any other creature who can come back to life, Frankenstein excluded.
Then there's the possibility that I could still be alive, but the paramedics must have been really stupid if that's the case. With all the technology we have, I find it un-be-lievable that they wouldn't have made, damn sure I was six feet under before the placed me in a morgue in preparation to be put, well, six feet under.
You know, Peaches the Vampire is starting to grow on me. Has that sort of epic quality like Dracula or other vampires I can't think of right now. Vampire Peaches. Yeah, I can get behind that.
Rosi
***
So... I'm pretty sure I'm a vampire. I'm not going to jump the gun and declare myself a blood-sucking, night-walking, sun-hating vamp just yet, but I'd bet my last bar of chocolate I'm right.
See, at the moment, I'm laying on this super, tacky metal slab freezing my—if I was a man—balls off, with this scratchy, washed-way-too-many-times sheet over top of me. Oh, and I'm butt naked. Now, I've seen about a ba-gillion crime shows and I'm almost positive—not going to throw all my eggs in a basket here—that I'm in a morgue. Just one more thing that proves my whole vampire theory.
But I guess you're properly wondering "why was your first thought vamp?" The main reason: I died. I'm one hundred and ten percent postive about this one. You see, it all began at my super, duper, hot— now—ex-boyfriends house. Me, being the cute and sincere girlfriend I am, decided to bake a batch of brownies and take it over to his place. Did we (mainly I, since both we both knew I always end up eating two-thirds of the little pieces of chocolate heaven) really need brownies? Hell no! I was, well... am, pushing a size sixteen, and my long, bottle-red hair just ain't covering up that double chin anymore.
Getting back on track, I brought brownies. Rob and I had been dating for about two years, give or take a month—which in my mind is six mouths too long without a commitment of either shared living quarters or a ring. But I'm a patient girl, and I thought Rob was worth it. He had this whole cute boy-next-door thing going on, and was just a little wilder cause he had a motorcycle. Did he ride it? No, but he had it, and that was all that counted.
Again, I'm getting off topic. I do that a lot. My mom says I have ADD, but she acts the same way so I think it's more genetic than anything. Some parents share hair color with their kids, my mother and I share a short attention span.
But back to the reason I'm pretty sure I'm a vampire and one hundred percent sure I'm dead. I went to see my boyfriend, yada, yada. Brought brownies, yada, yada. Caught him fucking the Chinese take-out man—
Oh, wait! I didn't get to that part yet. Yup, I found my boyfriend ass up, taking it from behind, while our Chinese take-out guy rammed a pretty impressive piece of equipment in his ass. To say I was shocked would be an understatement. I hate to be one of those people, but I really would have preferred to see my boyfriend with his dick in a size negative one, supermodel chick instead of the way I caught him. It wasn't just a blow to my self-esteem, but also a blow to my womanhood. There's nothing like seeing your boyfriend getting the business from another dude to remind you of that extra muffin you ate, and the few extra pounds you'd put on lately.
I, being the entirely rational person I am, stood there and screamed my head off like a banshee. Of course, Rob heard, but instead of getting limp and having his dick fall off as it should have, he came. That about sealed the deal for me. I turned in a whirl of neon pink skirts and marched out the front door. But at the front steps, I realized I still held the freaking brownies in my hands, and instead of just taking them with me, I decided to chucked them while I took a step. Clumsy me stepped wrong in my matching neon, kitten heels, turned awkwardly on my ankle, fell, and cracked my head on the pavement in front of his house.
All I remember is a hazy feeling of pain, my ears ringing, and then darkness. I also think I remember seeing blood, but it just could have been a distorted image of my pink dress, because I'm pretty sure the thing had flown up and I was flashing God and everyone.
So, here I am, laying in what I assume is a morgue with a very fresh memory of my death; my very humiliating, very embarrassing death. I jut hope Rob lied to my parents and whoever came to collect my body, and made up some believable story about how we were having passionate sex in front of his house, and he was just soooo good that I came and died. Now that is a death I can get behind.
Got sidetracked again. Silly little Peaches. Oh, right, I totally forgot to tell you my name, it's Peaches. Well, my nickname is Peaches, but my real name is Georgia Kent. In grade school my grandma used to come and pinch my cheeks and say: "chubby little cheeks, just like a peach, and good enough to eat." From that moment on I was ridiculed and my nickname became Peaches.
Now, I'm Peaches the Vampire. Wow does that sound stupid and wrong. But I mean, what other explanation is there to my sudden rebirth in a morgue. Scenario one is that the brownies I may have 'sampled' on my way to Rob's house were contaminated, and I was now a zombie. Only thing wrong with that scenario, was I didn't smell myself decompressing, I could form complete thoughts, and I was craving chocolate, not brains.
Scenario two would be that I'm in a coma. This one I could maybe get, if I didn't feel fucking, freezing cold—I mean like Hell's probably warmer the little box I was in. And why would I imagine myself in a morgue if I were in a coma? That didn't make any sense. Plus, I read somewhere that people in a coma don't dream, and it doesn't really feel like a dream but cold, harsh reality.
Option three—which is the one I'm sticking with until someone, or something, proves me wrong—is that I'm a vampire. Fact: I got a mosquito bite two weeks ago that hasn't gone away. Maybe it wasn't a mosquito bite but, like, a vampire bite. And, aside from the whole zombie thing, I don't know any other creature who can come back to life, Frankenstein excluded.
Then there's the possibility that I could still be alive, but the paramedics must have been really stupid if that's the case. With all the technology we have, I find it un-be-lievable that they wouldn't have made, damn sure I was six feet under before the placed me in a morgue in preparation to be put, well, six feet under.
You know, Peaches the Vampire is starting to grow on me. Has that sort of epic quality like Dracula or other vampires I can't think of right now. Vampire Peaches. Yeah, I can get behind that.
Chaos in College, New Info, and my usual ramblings
Most, if not all, of you know I'm in college. I love my major, my school, and the classes I take, but it is a bit exhausting. I barely get anytime to write for myself. Funny enough, with the chaos of college my inspiration for Nina and Grim has come back. I've been going through some personal stuff, and whatever muse bit me in the butt for AGL sort of left. Of course the second she comes back, I am too busy to actually write, but that's just life for you.
Anyway, I'll be in Ohio sometime in August for myCan't Fight Fate book party thing. I'm hoping to also pop up to Cleveland and also do a book reading there. So if you're in the area, come and see me. I'll post more information as the date gets closer.
Also, I've decided to wait a little longer before publishing CFF. I really want this one to be completely done, reviewed so many times it make me sick, and all that stuff. I can still go back and edit CFT, and it annoy me. Which leads me to my other point. Another version of CFT will be published the same time as CFF. I added an entire chapter to it and about 50+ pages overall. I know its a hassle to go and read it, and if you already read it, then you will still get the jist. It's just, I realized that I didn't build the world fully, and that Grim is a little flat as a character. I didn't think he was, but he was. So, I'm going to go back and characterize him.
I'm rambling. Point is that both books will be published in August. I will post up to chapter five or six on the blog. I haven't signed any contract, so I'm still thinking about what I'm going to do about the second book. But, *shrug* we'll see.
Anyway, I'll be in Ohio sometime in August for myCan't Fight Fate book party thing. I'm hoping to also pop up to Cleveland and also do a book reading there. So if you're in the area, come and see me. I'll post more information as the date gets closer.
Also, I've decided to wait a little longer before publishing CFF. I really want this one to be completely done, reviewed so many times it make me sick, and all that stuff. I can still go back and edit CFT, and it annoy me. Which leads me to my other point. Another version of CFT will be published the same time as CFF. I added an entire chapter to it and about 50+ pages overall. I know its a hassle to go and read it, and if you already read it, then you will still get the jist. It's just, I realized that I didn't build the world fully, and that Grim is a little flat as a character. I didn't think he was, but he was. So, I'm going to go back and characterize him.
I'm rambling. Point is that both books will be published in August. I will post up to chapter five or six on the blog. I haven't signed any contract, so I'm still thinking about what I'm going to do about the second book. But, *shrug* we'll see.
June 6, 2014
First hate comment
I was expecting this. I mean, I've been on the web wayyyy too long not to get one, right. Well, I finally got it. Can't say I'm surprised, I'm not. But, I am hurt. Yeah, I know. How can I be hurt if I expected it? Well, I don't know how, but I am.
I just want to make one thing perfectly clear (because I've been hearing this a lot): I am not a professional writer. I hope to be a professional writer.
Right now, I'm still just trying to get out of the nest, I haven't even figured out how to fly. Terrible analogy, I know. My point is that I'm trying. I have no connections to famous people, and I can't suddenly make people published writers or even get people published.
Best I can do is submit my work, grow, resubmit, and repeat the cycle until I consider myself good. Right now, I'm not even okay.
Well, that became a little sad at the end, but hey, hate comments hurt. I've never given a hate comment (if it's that bad, I'm not going to lie, I report it. That usually means you're writing about things you shouldn't be writing about, and definitelynot publishing), but I sure have received them. This one hurt the most, which is why I'm discussing it.
In any case, thank you for everyone who has supported me and continues to support me. I would love to hear back from people, if only because I'm feeling real shity right now. I can't wait for the second book to come out, and I hope you're excited too.
Thanks everyone! Oh, and I hope I'm not just taking to bots.
I just want to make one thing perfectly clear (because I've been hearing this a lot): I am not a professional writer. I hope to be a professional writer.
Right now, I'm still just trying to get out of the nest, I haven't even figured out how to fly. Terrible analogy, I know. My point is that I'm trying. I have no connections to famous people, and I can't suddenly make people published writers or even get people published.
Best I can do is submit my work, grow, resubmit, and repeat the cycle until I consider myself good. Right now, I'm not even okay.
Well, that became a little sad at the end, but hey, hate comments hurt. I've never given a hate comment (if it's that bad, I'm not going to lie, I report it. That usually means you're writing about things you shouldn't be writing about, and definitelynot publishing), but I sure have received them. This one hurt the most, which is why I'm discussing it.
In any case, thank you for everyone who has supported me and continues to support me. I would love to hear back from people, if only because I'm feeling real shity right now. I can't wait for the second book to come out, and I hope you're excited too.
Thanks everyone! Oh, and I hope I'm not just taking to bots.
Poetry (And yeah, it ain't PG)
As most, or some of you know, I write poetry. And I thought some of you might like to read it. Below is on of my favorite erotic poems. More Grim Love coming soon!
***
Unconventional
It's not safe or comfortableThere aren't soft kisses or light strokesHis tongue is down your throatYour panties are around your anklesAnd you pray to God, he doesn't break the plaster
It's not calmly looking into her eyesOr saying sweetly in climax "I love you!"She's on the kitchen counterYou're driving in hard enough to leave marksShe screams, comes; you roar, comeAnd all you can think while you gulp in air is: "Fuck!"
It's not between the sheetsNor pretty flowers are laid with pretty wordsIt's on your knees, with a rug burnAn exchange of what's acceptableFor what's worth fucking dying for
It's rough when he's having youIt's crazy when she loses controlIt’s lust, dipped in possession, with a pinch of fireIt's...
***
Unconventional
It's not safe or comfortableThere aren't soft kisses or light strokesHis tongue is down your throatYour panties are around your anklesAnd you pray to God, he doesn't break the plaster
It's not calmly looking into her eyesOr saying sweetly in climax "I love you!"She's on the kitchen counterYou're driving in hard enough to leave marksShe screams, comes; you roar, comeAnd all you can think while you gulp in air is: "Fuck!"
It's not between the sheetsNor pretty flowers are laid with pretty wordsIt's on your knees, with a rug burnAn exchange of what's acceptableFor what's worth fucking dying for
It's rough when he's having youIt's crazy when she loses controlIt’s lust, dipped in possession, with a pinch of fireIt's...
June 4, 2014
Chapter 2 CFF (Nina's Part)
I decided to break up Nina and Grim's part because otherwise it's too long. So, here's Nina's part. Hope you like!
***
Nina woke up the same way she’d fell asleep, instantly. One minute she was in darkness, a sort of hazy image of a dream world at the edge of her consciousness, and the next she’d been up, eyes wide, body coiled tight in anticipation.
A sardonic smirk flashed across her face. “Who ever said dying was easy was a fucking liar.”
Levering herself up into a sitting position, Nina looked around the bedroom she’d been put in. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she realized that sometime after she’d stopped time and screamed her head off she passed out. The hole shutting down must have triggered some sort of continuance of time or something.
Swinging her legs over the bed, Nina knew instantly that she was still in Iris’ Regency England house. Beneath her feet was a beautifully patterned Persian carpet that looked like it had been made a few centuries ago.
Nina lifted her head and looked at oil paintings of famous English artists and poets, the walls behind the paintings decorated with soft peach wallpaper. The four poster bed behind her dominated most of the room and was covered by a cream and peach duvet. An oak chest rested at the foot of the bed and two side tables rested on either side of the it. A low dresser was positioned against one of the walls with a peach colored pitcher and basin on top of it.
She spied an outfit on the chest at the end of the bed and slowly made her way there. The clothes were surprisingly modern, which made Nina think that Uri must have gotten them for her. “Oh, yeah. He got them all right.”
Tight fitted black leather pants with a royal blue and black v-neck shirt with a black suede half-jacket over top. It screamed Uri’s doing right down to the lace up ass kicking boots. At least he’d been considerate and not brought her three in fuck-me heels.
“Where are you going?” Uri asked as he entered her room, his smooth tones unable to hide the irritancy in his voice.
Nina looked over her shoulder at the doorway where he stood casually resting his arm against the wall as she laced up a pair of boots Iris had given her, and raised an eyebrow at Uri’s tone.
“Correct your tone, Uri. Don’t think I don’t hear everything else you’re trying not to say.”
Uri blinked back at her in surprise, but Nina just smiled grimly and pulled the laced tight. She knew he was mad at her, knew he thought she was an impulsive idiot. His tone said it all, said everything he was either to scared or too smart to say.
What did he think I would do? Nina wondered peevishly. Sit here and wait for Grim to get himself? Screw that!
She stood up and turned to face Uri. The prince was looking better, but the dark circles under his eyes and white lines around his mouth still made Nina think he was drained. unforchantly for him, she could care two shits less. Uri would be fine; he had Iris and a vast field of nothing to hide in. Grim was being kept in some dungeon by a psychotic princess who had destroyed their home!
Sometime between arriving at the cold and foreign castle and marrying Grim in a weird reaper ceremony, the castle had become warm, a place she could call hers. It wasn’t like she had another choice either way. The only other place Nina had ever called home housed a serial killer father who thought it was alright to put his bloody murder clothes in the hamper. What murderer did that? she shook her head at her own random thoughts and turned towards the door, away from Uri.
“Nina,” his voice was just a tad bit better than before, but only a tad. “You need to stay here. It’s the safest place for you.”
“Prince Uriel is right, m-my queen,” Iris stammered out softly as she went to stand by Uri. “We need to wait and see what happens. We can’t just—”
“He’s my husband.” Her voice held a hint of authority that Nina didn’t even realize she possessed. Maybe it was because she now had power and wasn’t as weak as everyone saw her; or maybe it was that, with everything she’d been through, she now had the right to cut off two supernatural beings.
Looking both Iris and Uri in their eyes, Nina balled her fist and tried to keep her emotions in check. “My husband is being kept in some dungeon, probably being tortured, and you want me to wait and see what happens?” her voice was so low, Nina wasn’t sure if they’d heard the last part.
There was a long pause, before Uri took a step towards her and placed a gentle hand on her arm. “Nina, please—”
“You are out of your fucking mind if you think for a second that I will wait for Grim to die!” Nina roared at them, feeling fire burn in her gut.
The hand Uri had placed on her arm began to tingle and burn, but Nina didn’t pay it any mind as she concentrated on stopping time. She’d done it before, so she was pretty sure she could do it now. Actually, her entire plan hinged on that mysterious power Yin and Yang had gifted her.
The burning on her arm got hotter, but Nina ignored it and focused. “Wai—”
The room went eerily quiet.
Looking up, Nina pried Uri’s arm away from her and stared down at her skin. There wasn’t a burn, but she’d definitely felt something. Frowning, she wondered what Yin and Yang had done to her. The question had been racing around her mind ever since she’d crossed through the portal, but things had come up that had put the question in the back of her mind. Even now she knew it wouldn’t get answered, knew she wouldn’t dwell on it.
No, the question would go into the box with all the other questions that she couldn’t deal with at the moment.
Waving a hand in front of Iris, and then Uri’s face, Nina smiled when neither reaper so much as twitched a muscle. Grabbing a random book from Iris’ cottage, Nina raised it in the air and dropped it. Except the thing didn’t drop; no, it just sat in the air, suspended on nothing, waiting for time and gravity to pull it down.
“You’re out of your mind.” Nina mumbled as she tugged on the jacket securely around her.
Exiting the cottage, Nina waited for any sign that Iris and Uri were going to follow her, but when nothing happened she breathed out a sigh of relief. “Okay.”
Moving away from the door, she searched for any sign of life, but couldn’t find a direction. A blank expanse of green was all she saw. Biting her lip, she rubbed her temples and thought. How do I find Grim?
Mulling the thought over in her head, Nina didn’t come up with a single answer. “Argh!” She clenched and unclenched her fingers, anger, fear, and worry churning in her stomach. “How do you find a reaper in the Underworld? If this was a movie, it would be so freaking easy…”
Nina trailed off as her eyes went wide and a thought stuck in her mind. What if this was a movie? It was a crazy thought, but she didn’t have anything better.
Sci-fi flicks ran across her mind, followed by every paranormal novel she’d ever read. It seemed like a crazy idea, but Nina decided to give it a shot. If she could freeze time, why couldn’t she try a movie trick?
Feel out his power, her conscious said with a mental nudge. It was the same concept of a vampire being able to track a human on just a drop of their blood alone, and it was also the best one she had.
Reaching her hands out in front of her, Nina wiggled her fingers and began to move in a circle. She wasn’t exactly sure what the hell she was doing, but for some reason she thought having her arms out would help her sense the power.
“Here, power, power, power,” Nina cooed, as she gazed at the fields of grass.
When nothing happened, and Nina felt like a frustrated idiot with hot tears burning just being her cheeks, she quit. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but it couldn’t have been more than ten minutes.
Wrapping her arms around herself, Nina closed her eyes and tried not to break down. Grim had been so close, so close that she knew it hadn’t been a dream. Even now, she could taste him, feel him.
Grim had been with her. He had. Somehow they’d gone to another place, a wonderful place. Nina wasn’t sure how it had happened, but she knew it had. Cracking a watery smile, Nina remembered the first time she’d met and really talked with Grim.
He’d been so surprised by her calmness. Grim had expected her to freak out, say he was lying, refuse to believe that he, a twenty-something, olive toned guy was Death. But then she’d touched him, and piercing cold had stabbed at her hand like a million little knives, and she’d known. It was as simple as that.
“Grim is real.” Nina muttered out loud, remembering when she’d told grim that she believed him.
Grim is real, our child is real, and my power is real. Nina just had to have faith in herself, have faith in the fact that everything she’d thought was impossible was now possible. Screw physics, screw science and math. Real and imaginary, everything existed now.
“I want to go to Grim.” Nina lifted her head and blinked back her tears. Firm resolve tightened her muscles and locked her jaw. “I want to go to Grim now!” she screamed, freeing her voice, her power.
A gust of wind hit her in the small of her back and propelled her across the fields so quickly that all she could see was splotches of green and brown. It was strange that wind was propelling her. When Uri had flown them with his super speed, or whatever reapers had, it had felt a lot more like running without wind, like they’d tumbled from one point to the other. No wind had been involved.
Green and brown melted into grey towers and roads as the wind propelled her faster and faster until she say what looked like huge oak doors loaming in front of her, coming at her fast.
“No, no, no!” Nina yelled, pushing her arms out as the wind changed course and shot out from her hands to send the doors flying open.
The wind cut off as Nina cried out “Stop!” in panic. Falling over and tumbling through a hallway, Nina careened into a wall and rolled onto her side to protect her stomach. But she never hit the wall, stopping a few feet away before any damage could be done.
Holding still for a few more seconds, Nina lifted her head and blinked to bring the hall into view. She couldn’t see any guards, but that didn’t mean there weren’t any. Wait! Nina paused and slowly got up. I froze time!
Keeping close to the wall she’d almost crashed into, Nina listened for any sounds. There was nothing but silence.
Slowly getting up from the floor, Nina moved back and hugged the wall, surreptitiously around the hall. The front doors were spread wide and hanging off the hinges, her fault. Looking down at the floor, it took Nina a second to figure out what she was seeing. Gold, the floor was made of gold.
Grim’s words came back to her as she looked around the hall and felt her jaw drop to the metaphorical floor. The Castoff kingdom is the wealthiest kingdom. He hadn’t been kidding either! Everything was gold with hints of black onyx. A picture was painted into the ceiling and looked like it was made from melted silver and diamonds. Sixteen daggers of varying size pointed out in a circle with a small space in the middle.
Realization dawned on Nina that the symbol was the crest of the Castoff Kingdom. It has to be, Nina thought as she pried her eyes away from the opulence around her and refocused on her goal.
Deciding that using her feet would be safer, Nina began to move through the castle, but a sudden shift in the air stopped her dead. She was at a four way intersection, about to turn down the right hallway in search of Grim, when she felt it. It felt like a ripple, like she’d been in a still lake and someone had stuck their fingers in the water.
And then, everything happened in a blur. An alarm went off, sounding like a high pitched whistle and Nina felt a dozen different power signatures rush over her. A chill passed over her skin, and she knew that reaper guards were coming.
Whipping her head to the left, Nina gasped as Grim came into view. He looked terrible, bloodied, bruised, with pieces of his body missing. A strangled whimper escaped her throat, as Nina gazed at her husband.
“Grim,” her voice was soft as tears rushed down her face.
Grim’s blue-diamond eyes locked on her face and shame, sadness, and pain twisted his features. Nina shook her head softly as she tried to take a shaky step towards the man she loved. Grim had nothing to be ashamed of, nothing to hide from her.
I love you, Nina thought as her foot hit the gold floor and another power rushed over her, this one she recognized too well.
Strong arms enclosed around her and stilled. Uri was behind her, arms locked like steel bands around her waist, probably looking at Grim the same way Nina was.
Grim’s eyes darkened as his gaze darted left. “Get her out of here!” he yelled at them, raising his arm. It was only then that Nina realized he held a bloody knife in his hand, and it was also when she realized she couldn’t really feel Grim’s power.
Trying to slip away from Uri and go to Grim, Nina screamed as she saw Castoff guards suddenly appear in front of them, a dozen feet away. “Let me go, Uri! Let me go!” Nina screamed like a banshee, kicking with all her might.
Grim moved with that reaper super speed and was suddenly in front of them. Nina took a deep breath in and smelled blood, but under that she smelled Grim. It was his unique scent, something like fresh, rich soil and piercing winter cold.
“Now, Uriel!” Grim commanded as the guards shifted and charged them.
The ground fell away as Uri hoisted her up and over his shoulder, moving with his reaper speed out of the castle and away from Grim. Nina clawed at his back, kicked at his stomach, and tried to freeze time again as the world blurred into gray, green, and brown around her.
Freeze! Freeze! Nina mentally commanded as she screamed out; “No! Grim!”
A door burst open, and the floor was suddenly rushing up to meet her, Persian carpets absorbing her fall. Nina didn’t even feel the impact, she just fell, spread out, eyes open and unseeing. Uri was standing above her cursing, raging at her, calling her an idiot and worse. But Nina tuned it out, shut out everything but her own pain and grief.
I’ve lost Grim. He was right there, right in front of me and I lost him. Loathing, contempt and hate settled in her bones, directed straight at Uri. Nina wanted so bad to blame him—kill him if she was being honest. She had never understood how people could kill each other, what factors drove them to it, but at that moment Nina felt it. It felt better than anger, more powerful than rage and hate.
She’d been so close to saving Grim. So close that she could smell him, feel him, and Uri had taken her away. Nina was sure she could have taken them; sure she could have saved Grim. It was all Uri’s fault.
Nina bit her lip until she tasted blood, felt pain. Usually the pain helped, made her realize who she was, what she was. But it didn’t help. Nina felt the pain, but it didn’t register. Her anger and pain began to slip away, fading into nothing.
Uri was still screaming, maybe he was shaking her. Nina didn’t know, didn’t care.
It was worse than when she’d discovered her father was a serial killer, worse than when she’d found out he was going to kill her and there was nothing she could do about it. She had broken down, lost her marbles, but now?
Nina felt it a moment before it happened, a split second before she could stop, bring herself back from the edge. In the next instant, Nina shattered.
***
Nina woke up the same way she’d fell asleep, instantly. One minute she was in darkness, a sort of hazy image of a dream world at the edge of her consciousness, and the next she’d been up, eyes wide, body coiled tight in anticipation.
A sardonic smirk flashed across her face. “Who ever said dying was easy was a fucking liar.”
Levering herself up into a sitting position, Nina looked around the bedroom she’d been put in. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she realized that sometime after she’d stopped time and screamed her head off she passed out. The hole shutting down must have triggered some sort of continuance of time or something.
Swinging her legs over the bed, Nina knew instantly that she was still in Iris’ Regency England house. Beneath her feet was a beautifully patterned Persian carpet that looked like it had been made a few centuries ago.
Nina lifted her head and looked at oil paintings of famous English artists and poets, the walls behind the paintings decorated with soft peach wallpaper. The four poster bed behind her dominated most of the room and was covered by a cream and peach duvet. An oak chest rested at the foot of the bed and two side tables rested on either side of the it. A low dresser was positioned against one of the walls with a peach colored pitcher and basin on top of it.
She spied an outfit on the chest at the end of the bed and slowly made her way there. The clothes were surprisingly modern, which made Nina think that Uri must have gotten them for her. “Oh, yeah. He got them all right.”
Tight fitted black leather pants with a royal blue and black v-neck shirt with a black suede half-jacket over top. It screamed Uri’s doing right down to the lace up ass kicking boots. At least he’d been considerate and not brought her three in fuck-me heels.
“Where are you going?” Uri asked as he entered her room, his smooth tones unable to hide the irritancy in his voice.
Nina looked over her shoulder at the doorway where he stood casually resting his arm against the wall as she laced up a pair of boots Iris had given her, and raised an eyebrow at Uri’s tone.
“Correct your tone, Uri. Don’t think I don’t hear everything else you’re trying not to say.”
Uri blinked back at her in surprise, but Nina just smiled grimly and pulled the laced tight. She knew he was mad at her, knew he thought she was an impulsive idiot. His tone said it all, said everything he was either to scared or too smart to say.
What did he think I would do? Nina wondered peevishly. Sit here and wait for Grim to get himself? Screw that!
She stood up and turned to face Uri. The prince was looking better, but the dark circles under his eyes and white lines around his mouth still made Nina think he was drained. unforchantly for him, she could care two shits less. Uri would be fine; he had Iris and a vast field of nothing to hide in. Grim was being kept in some dungeon by a psychotic princess who had destroyed their home!
Sometime between arriving at the cold and foreign castle and marrying Grim in a weird reaper ceremony, the castle had become warm, a place she could call hers. It wasn’t like she had another choice either way. The only other place Nina had ever called home housed a serial killer father who thought it was alright to put his bloody murder clothes in the hamper. What murderer did that? she shook her head at her own random thoughts and turned towards the door, away from Uri.
“Nina,” his voice was just a tad bit better than before, but only a tad. “You need to stay here. It’s the safest place for you.”
“Prince Uriel is right, m-my queen,” Iris stammered out softly as she went to stand by Uri. “We need to wait and see what happens. We can’t just—”
“He’s my husband.” Her voice held a hint of authority that Nina didn’t even realize she possessed. Maybe it was because she now had power and wasn’t as weak as everyone saw her; or maybe it was that, with everything she’d been through, she now had the right to cut off two supernatural beings.
Looking both Iris and Uri in their eyes, Nina balled her fist and tried to keep her emotions in check. “My husband is being kept in some dungeon, probably being tortured, and you want me to wait and see what happens?” her voice was so low, Nina wasn’t sure if they’d heard the last part.
There was a long pause, before Uri took a step towards her and placed a gentle hand on her arm. “Nina, please—”
“You are out of your fucking mind if you think for a second that I will wait for Grim to die!” Nina roared at them, feeling fire burn in her gut.
The hand Uri had placed on her arm began to tingle and burn, but Nina didn’t pay it any mind as she concentrated on stopping time. She’d done it before, so she was pretty sure she could do it now. Actually, her entire plan hinged on that mysterious power Yin and Yang had gifted her.
The burning on her arm got hotter, but Nina ignored it and focused. “Wai—”
The room went eerily quiet.
Looking up, Nina pried Uri’s arm away from her and stared down at her skin. There wasn’t a burn, but she’d definitely felt something. Frowning, she wondered what Yin and Yang had done to her. The question had been racing around her mind ever since she’d crossed through the portal, but things had come up that had put the question in the back of her mind. Even now she knew it wouldn’t get answered, knew she wouldn’t dwell on it.
No, the question would go into the box with all the other questions that she couldn’t deal with at the moment.
Waving a hand in front of Iris, and then Uri’s face, Nina smiled when neither reaper so much as twitched a muscle. Grabbing a random book from Iris’ cottage, Nina raised it in the air and dropped it. Except the thing didn’t drop; no, it just sat in the air, suspended on nothing, waiting for time and gravity to pull it down.
“You’re out of your mind.” Nina mumbled as she tugged on the jacket securely around her.
Exiting the cottage, Nina waited for any sign that Iris and Uri were going to follow her, but when nothing happened she breathed out a sigh of relief. “Okay.”
Moving away from the door, she searched for any sign of life, but couldn’t find a direction. A blank expanse of green was all she saw. Biting her lip, she rubbed her temples and thought. How do I find Grim?
Mulling the thought over in her head, Nina didn’t come up with a single answer. “Argh!” She clenched and unclenched her fingers, anger, fear, and worry churning in her stomach. “How do you find a reaper in the Underworld? If this was a movie, it would be so freaking easy…”
Nina trailed off as her eyes went wide and a thought stuck in her mind. What if this was a movie? It was a crazy thought, but she didn’t have anything better.
Sci-fi flicks ran across her mind, followed by every paranormal novel she’d ever read. It seemed like a crazy idea, but Nina decided to give it a shot. If she could freeze time, why couldn’t she try a movie trick?
Feel out his power, her conscious said with a mental nudge. It was the same concept of a vampire being able to track a human on just a drop of their blood alone, and it was also the best one she had.
Reaching her hands out in front of her, Nina wiggled her fingers and began to move in a circle. She wasn’t exactly sure what the hell she was doing, but for some reason she thought having her arms out would help her sense the power.
“Here, power, power, power,” Nina cooed, as she gazed at the fields of grass.
When nothing happened, and Nina felt like a frustrated idiot with hot tears burning just being her cheeks, she quit. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but it couldn’t have been more than ten minutes.
Wrapping her arms around herself, Nina closed her eyes and tried not to break down. Grim had been so close, so close that she knew it hadn’t been a dream. Even now, she could taste him, feel him.
Grim had been with her. He had. Somehow they’d gone to another place, a wonderful place. Nina wasn’t sure how it had happened, but she knew it had. Cracking a watery smile, Nina remembered the first time she’d met and really talked with Grim.
He’d been so surprised by her calmness. Grim had expected her to freak out, say he was lying, refuse to believe that he, a twenty-something, olive toned guy was Death. But then she’d touched him, and piercing cold had stabbed at her hand like a million little knives, and she’d known. It was as simple as that.
“Grim is real.” Nina muttered out loud, remembering when she’d told grim that she believed him.
Grim is real, our child is real, and my power is real. Nina just had to have faith in herself, have faith in the fact that everything she’d thought was impossible was now possible. Screw physics, screw science and math. Real and imaginary, everything existed now.
“I want to go to Grim.” Nina lifted her head and blinked back her tears. Firm resolve tightened her muscles and locked her jaw. “I want to go to Grim now!” she screamed, freeing her voice, her power.
A gust of wind hit her in the small of her back and propelled her across the fields so quickly that all she could see was splotches of green and brown. It was strange that wind was propelling her. When Uri had flown them with his super speed, or whatever reapers had, it had felt a lot more like running without wind, like they’d tumbled from one point to the other. No wind had been involved.
Green and brown melted into grey towers and roads as the wind propelled her faster and faster until she say what looked like huge oak doors loaming in front of her, coming at her fast.
“No, no, no!” Nina yelled, pushing her arms out as the wind changed course and shot out from her hands to send the doors flying open.
The wind cut off as Nina cried out “Stop!” in panic. Falling over and tumbling through a hallway, Nina careened into a wall and rolled onto her side to protect her stomach. But she never hit the wall, stopping a few feet away before any damage could be done.
Holding still for a few more seconds, Nina lifted her head and blinked to bring the hall into view. She couldn’t see any guards, but that didn’t mean there weren’t any. Wait! Nina paused and slowly got up. I froze time!
Keeping close to the wall she’d almost crashed into, Nina listened for any sounds. There was nothing but silence.
Slowly getting up from the floor, Nina moved back and hugged the wall, surreptitiously around the hall. The front doors were spread wide and hanging off the hinges, her fault. Looking down at the floor, it took Nina a second to figure out what she was seeing. Gold, the floor was made of gold.
Grim’s words came back to her as she looked around the hall and felt her jaw drop to the metaphorical floor. The Castoff kingdom is the wealthiest kingdom. He hadn’t been kidding either! Everything was gold with hints of black onyx. A picture was painted into the ceiling and looked like it was made from melted silver and diamonds. Sixteen daggers of varying size pointed out in a circle with a small space in the middle.
Realization dawned on Nina that the symbol was the crest of the Castoff Kingdom. It has to be, Nina thought as she pried her eyes away from the opulence around her and refocused on her goal.
Deciding that using her feet would be safer, Nina began to move through the castle, but a sudden shift in the air stopped her dead. She was at a four way intersection, about to turn down the right hallway in search of Grim, when she felt it. It felt like a ripple, like she’d been in a still lake and someone had stuck their fingers in the water.
And then, everything happened in a blur. An alarm went off, sounding like a high pitched whistle and Nina felt a dozen different power signatures rush over her. A chill passed over her skin, and she knew that reaper guards were coming.
Whipping her head to the left, Nina gasped as Grim came into view. He looked terrible, bloodied, bruised, with pieces of his body missing. A strangled whimper escaped her throat, as Nina gazed at her husband.
“Grim,” her voice was soft as tears rushed down her face.
Grim’s blue-diamond eyes locked on her face and shame, sadness, and pain twisted his features. Nina shook her head softly as she tried to take a shaky step towards the man she loved. Grim had nothing to be ashamed of, nothing to hide from her.
I love you, Nina thought as her foot hit the gold floor and another power rushed over her, this one she recognized too well.
Strong arms enclosed around her and stilled. Uri was behind her, arms locked like steel bands around her waist, probably looking at Grim the same way Nina was.
Grim’s eyes darkened as his gaze darted left. “Get her out of here!” he yelled at them, raising his arm. It was only then that Nina realized he held a bloody knife in his hand, and it was also when she realized she couldn’t really feel Grim’s power.
Trying to slip away from Uri and go to Grim, Nina screamed as she saw Castoff guards suddenly appear in front of them, a dozen feet away. “Let me go, Uri! Let me go!” Nina screamed like a banshee, kicking with all her might.
Grim moved with that reaper super speed and was suddenly in front of them. Nina took a deep breath in and smelled blood, but under that she smelled Grim. It was his unique scent, something like fresh, rich soil and piercing winter cold.
“Now, Uriel!” Grim commanded as the guards shifted and charged them.
The ground fell away as Uri hoisted her up and over his shoulder, moving with his reaper speed out of the castle and away from Grim. Nina clawed at his back, kicked at his stomach, and tried to freeze time again as the world blurred into gray, green, and brown around her.
Freeze! Freeze! Nina mentally commanded as she screamed out; “No! Grim!”
A door burst open, and the floor was suddenly rushing up to meet her, Persian carpets absorbing her fall. Nina didn’t even feel the impact, she just fell, spread out, eyes open and unseeing. Uri was standing above her cursing, raging at her, calling her an idiot and worse. But Nina tuned it out, shut out everything but her own pain and grief.
I’ve lost Grim. He was right there, right in front of me and I lost him. Loathing, contempt and hate settled in her bones, directed straight at Uri. Nina wanted so bad to blame him—kill him if she was being honest. She had never understood how people could kill each other, what factors drove them to it, but at that moment Nina felt it. It felt better than anger, more powerful than rage and hate.
She’d been so close to saving Grim. So close that she could smell him, feel him, and Uri had taken her away. Nina was sure she could have taken them; sure she could have saved Grim. It was all Uri’s fault.
Nina bit her lip until she tasted blood, felt pain. Usually the pain helped, made her realize who she was, what she was. But it didn’t help. Nina felt the pain, but it didn’t register. Her anger and pain began to slip away, fading into nothing.
Uri was still screaming, maybe he was shaking her. Nina didn’t know, didn’t care.
It was worse than when she’d discovered her father was a serial killer, worse than when she’d found out he was going to kill her and there was nothing she could do about it. She had broken down, lost her marbles, but now?
Nina felt it a moment before it happened, a split second before she could stop, bring herself back from the edge. In the next instant, Nina shattered.
May 8, 2014
A sexy exceprt
I promise the next time I pose it'll be a full chapter and not these small bits that are probably driving you crazy. LOL But I had to post this one. It was so much fun writing it!
***
“Nnn..” blood slid against her tongue as Nina raked her nails down Grim’s back and bit hard into his shoulder.
Heat pushed its way into her blood, igniting a fire that seemed to emanate from her very soul. Flames licked up her up her arms, around her legs, and coated her body until she literally burned.
She felt Grim pull out, flip her on her knees in the soft grass, lift her ass high in the air and sink at the juncture right between her thighs. He went deeper, pushed her harder. Beneath them the ground rolled, perhaps a volcano in a distant corner of their world exploded. Tiny flames danced in the oxygenated air extending from her fingertips to trace every blade of grass, every speck of dirt, without incinerating them.
“Oh!” Grim’s fingers grazed her clit, his power licking like a million tongues over her body. Nina felt her spine curve, her fingers rip up the earth around her. She thrust back on him, hair alight and wild with fire. Flames shot off her body, forced out from her every pore until a blazing halo resided around them and their world ignited. Sparks ferried across the landscape, over hills, between valley’s, shooting up thick tree trunks and capturing the azure sky.
Nina cried out screamed and the world roared back, echoing her.
Looking over her shoulder through the wild mess of sweat and curls, Nina’s eyes widened as she looked at Grim, lit with a halo of fire from the tips of his black hair to the soles of his olive-toned feet. They were both burning, living, fucking, surviving.
“Keep screaming, Amica. Scream until you can’t breathe, until you can’t think, until you shatter the world.” Grim thrust in hard, burning her from the inside out, forcing her to take him, expanding to him, and give him everything he didn’t realize he was asking for.
Animals. They were animals on the forest floor, returning to a time that no longer exist. The ground rolled beneath them, the wind lashed at their bodies, rain poured in buckets battling the fire. And than, all at once, it became too much, not enough, too big, too small.
A scream tore from Nina’s soul, vibrating through her body. It was a center of chaos, one originating point of the end and the beginning. Grim melted into Nina, became her just as she became him.
Scream for scream, pant for pant, they echoed back at each other until their world split. Until Nina’s body separated from her mind and collided into Grim’s blood, tissue, and bone.
"Uh, y-you're too rough, Grim."
Bang! The world was created.
A deep chuckle, strong fingers, rhythmically gripping her hips; "You can take it."
Bang! The world was destroyed.
Again and again and again.
Grim fused with Nina, became something else. Nina fused with Grim and became herself, everything she was not supposed to be, everything she was. They were creators, murderers. Infinity that even Yin and Yang couldn’t comprehend.
A blast of light as Nina came, a shrouding darkness as Grim did the same. Something happened then, something new and exciting. They created it. Shimmering in the molecules around them, embedded in the soil under them, sluicing off their bodies--love. Together, in an explosion of life and death, beginning and ending, they created love.
***
“Nnn..” blood slid against her tongue as Nina raked her nails down Grim’s back and bit hard into his shoulder.
Heat pushed its way into her blood, igniting a fire that seemed to emanate from her very soul. Flames licked up her up her arms, around her legs, and coated her body until she literally burned.
She felt Grim pull out, flip her on her knees in the soft grass, lift her ass high in the air and sink at the juncture right between her thighs. He went deeper, pushed her harder. Beneath them the ground rolled, perhaps a volcano in a distant corner of their world exploded. Tiny flames danced in the oxygenated air extending from her fingertips to trace every blade of grass, every speck of dirt, without incinerating them.
“Oh!” Grim’s fingers grazed her clit, his power licking like a million tongues over her body. Nina felt her spine curve, her fingers rip up the earth around her. She thrust back on him, hair alight and wild with fire. Flames shot off her body, forced out from her every pore until a blazing halo resided around them and their world ignited. Sparks ferried across the landscape, over hills, between valley’s, shooting up thick tree trunks and capturing the azure sky.
Nina cried out screamed and the world roared back, echoing her.
Looking over her shoulder through the wild mess of sweat and curls, Nina’s eyes widened as she looked at Grim, lit with a halo of fire from the tips of his black hair to the soles of his olive-toned feet. They were both burning, living, fucking, surviving.
“Keep screaming, Amica. Scream until you can’t breathe, until you can’t think, until you shatter the world.” Grim thrust in hard, burning her from the inside out, forcing her to take him, expanding to him, and give him everything he didn’t realize he was asking for.
Animals. They were animals on the forest floor, returning to a time that no longer exist. The ground rolled beneath them, the wind lashed at their bodies, rain poured in buckets battling the fire. And than, all at once, it became too much, not enough, too big, too small.
A scream tore from Nina’s soul, vibrating through her body. It was a center of chaos, one originating point of the end and the beginning. Grim melted into Nina, became her just as she became him.
Scream for scream, pant for pant, they echoed back at each other until their world split. Until Nina’s body separated from her mind and collided into Grim’s blood, tissue, and bone.
"Uh, y-you're too rough, Grim."
Bang! The world was created.
A deep chuckle, strong fingers, rhythmically gripping her hips; "You can take it."
Bang! The world was destroyed.
Again and again and again.
Grim fused with Nina, became something else. Nina fused with Grim and became herself, everything she was not supposed to be, everything she was. They were creators, murderers. Infinity that even Yin and Yang couldn’t comprehend.
A blast of light as Nina came, a shrouding darkness as Grim did the same. Something happened then, something new and exciting. They created it. Shimmering in the molecules around them, embedded in the soil under them, sluicing off their bodies--love. Together, in an explosion of life and death, beginning and ending, they created love.
April 25, 2014
Another mini excerpt
So, Chapters 2, 3, and most likely 4 will be posted before the end of May, or the very, very beginning of June. But for the next few weeks, I'll post little teasers from different sections of the book. Hope it whets your appetite!
***
I hate myself. I hate who I am and what I’ve become. These were the only thoughts that Nina had. She couldn’t think past her own self loathing, her own pity and hate.
She was in a hole. It was small and cold, and one she couldn’t get out of. But who cared about getting out anyway? Nina let her mind focus back on the topic that had been killing her slowly for however long she'd been in her self made Hell. Grim was gone, and nothing I do will change that.
Nina had faced her demons, adapted and changed to the things that she'd been thrust into. She’d given it her all, and nothing had happened. If anything, things only got worse.
Doubt crept into her mind as she remained numb and immovable in her hole. If only she’d said no to Uri and stayed with her father until he killed her. If only she’d remained in the reaper world to face this with Grim. If only she just would have died the moment she’d known that death was coming for her, none of the pain she was in now would matter.
In a dim corner of her mind Nina could remember a voice saying if-ing solves nothing and hurts everyone, but she ignored it. She ignored the fact that by withering away in bed, refusing to do anything but sleep and bitterly scold herself, she was hurting her child. Somewhere along the way she'd started to wonder again if she was really pregnant.
What did she have? The word of two mad scientist who had performed painful experiments on her after they’d told her she was pregnant. Yeah, she believed that about as far as she could throw them. Nina was sure she couldn't even pick them an inch off the ground.
If time was linear, or even something close to that, then wouldn’t I be showing? Nina had been mulling the puzzle over in her mind for a while. She’d been with Grim for almost three months, and two and almost the entire time they’d been screwing like rabbits. And if Uri was right, and weeks had passed while she’d been with Yin and Yang in their freaky laboratory doing god-only-knows-what, then she’d be around four or five months pregnant. And definitely showing.
But Nina wasn’t.
She wracked her brain. Thought about it, then thought about it some more. But in the end, she didn’t care. None of it mattered anymore. She was dead, her husband was being tortured, their kingdom was destroyed, and nothing mattered anymore.
The breakdown Nina had yearned for was finally here and tearing her apart. It was worse than when she’d found out her father was going to kill her, worse than when she’d found out that she wasn’t dead even though she’d felt the blade pierce her heart. The pain she was in was a combination of Grim’s rejection and her own crushing emotions from the past few months.
It was sort of funny to think that, now, Yin and Yang wouldn’t want her. She wouldn’t be whatever they turned her into. In a strange way it was comforting. Despite being trapped by her own failings and inabilities, there was something satisfying about not being used as a tool.
Because, trapped in her mind and going in circles, Nina had started to realize in one way or another she'd been a tool. Yin and Yang had said so; had, in no uncertain terms, manipulated her. How different would it have been if Grim had never saved her from that bossy police woman. How different would it have been if Nina hadn't instantly fallen for him.
Grim would provably be safe--albeit married to a crazy bitch, but he wouldn’t have been in the predicament he was in now. Nina would have died, a terrible death for sure, but it would have ended. She wouldn't have to feel the pressure that was currently on her chest from her reality being crushed. Because not dying, was the equivalent to suddenly being able to breathe underwater. Even if you could suddenly do it, you'd still gasp and reach for death's hand because that hand was a constant, a known, an end.
There was no ending now. Nina would live the rest of her unnatural life in the middle, in her twenties, never aging. The idea freaked her out worse than dying.
So, no matter how she looked at it, everything was her own fault. If I'd just died, none of this would be happening! she raged at herself. She could have all the power in the world, but what did it matter? Power obviously didn't been crap if the person didn't know how to use it, how to bend it to their will.
But, Nina knew, that was what it came down to. Somehow, she was still the fragile, little human sulking about her miseries. I was an idiot for leaving, and I'm still an idiot now.
Nina burrowed deeper into her mind. Time faded into the background, meshing with the gray of her life. Somehow, she knew that time was passing--the feeling ingrained in her psyche--but the urgency wasn’t there anymore. She was shattered, unable to pick up the pieces and drag herself together. All Nina wanted to do was go back to that second when the knife had pierced her heart, when her heart had thumped once, twice, before failing her. She just wanted to go back to that past life and die there.
But nothing was ever easy, especially not things that hurt. Pain was difficult; dirty, messy, and fucking difficult. She couldn't say she was surprised when it came, the sudden rush that let her know it was time to wake up and face what was and not what should be or what she wanted it to be.
It was a voice that penetrated her mind; it sounded loud, angry, rushed. Someone was called to her, shook her. Power rushed over Nina, tried to penetrate the walls she’d erected around herself. The voice battered at her mind while the rushing power chipped way at her walls.
“Nina!” a voice screamed at her as heat poured through her body.
The voice sounded familiar. The heat felt familiar.
It’s time, Nina, her conscious whispered, coming slowly back to life.
***
I hate myself. I hate who I am and what I’ve become. These were the only thoughts that Nina had. She couldn’t think past her own self loathing, her own pity and hate.
She was in a hole. It was small and cold, and one she couldn’t get out of. But who cared about getting out anyway? Nina let her mind focus back on the topic that had been killing her slowly for however long she'd been in her self made Hell. Grim was gone, and nothing I do will change that.
Nina had faced her demons, adapted and changed to the things that she'd been thrust into. She’d given it her all, and nothing had happened. If anything, things only got worse.
Doubt crept into her mind as she remained numb and immovable in her hole. If only she’d said no to Uri and stayed with her father until he killed her. If only she’d remained in the reaper world to face this with Grim. If only she just would have died the moment she’d known that death was coming for her, none of the pain she was in now would matter.
In a dim corner of her mind Nina could remember a voice saying if-ing solves nothing and hurts everyone, but she ignored it. She ignored the fact that by withering away in bed, refusing to do anything but sleep and bitterly scold herself, she was hurting her child. Somewhere along the way she'd started to wonder again if she was really pregnant.
What did she have? The word of two mad scientist who had performed painful experiments on her after they’d told her she was pregnant. Yeah, she believed that about as far as she could throw them. Nina was sure she couldn't even pick them an inch off the ground.
If time was linear, or even something close to that, then wouldn’t I be showing? Nina had been mulling the puzzle over in her mind for a while. She’d been with Grim for almost three months, and two and almost the entire time they’d been screwing like rabbits. And if Uri was right, and weeks had passed while she’d been with Yin and Yang in their freaky laboratory doing god-only-knows-what, then she’d be around four or five months pregnant. And definitely showing.
But Nina wasn’t.
She wracked her brain. Thought about it, then thought about it some more. But in the end, she didn’t care. None of it mattered anymore. She was dead, her husband was being tortured, their kingdom was destroyed, and nothing mattered anymore.
The breakdown Nina had yearned for was finally here and tearing her apart. It was worse than when she’d found out her father was going to kill her, worse than when she’d found out that she wasn’t dead even though she’d felt the blade pierce her heart. The pain she was in was a combination of Grim’s rejection and her own crushing emotions from the past few months.
It was sort of funny to think that, now, Yin and Yang wouldn’t want her. She wouldn’t be whatever they turned her into. In a strange way it was comforting. Despite being trapped by her own failings and inabilities, there was something satisfying about not being used as a tool.
Because, trapped in her mind and going in circles, Nina had started to realize in one way or another she'd been a tool. Yin and Yang had said so; had, in no uncertain terms, manipulated her. How different would it have been if Grim had never saved her from that bossy police woman. How different would it have been if Nina hadn't instantly fallen for him.
Grim would provably be safe--albeit married to a crazy bitch, but he wouldn’t have been in the predicament he was in now. Nina would have died, a terrible death for sure, but it would have ended. She wouldn't have to feel the pressure that was currently on her chest from her reality being crushed. Because not dying, was the equivalent to suddenly being able to breathe underwater. Even if you could suddenly do it, you'd still gasp and reach for death's hand because that hand was a constant, a known, an end.
There was no ending now. Nina would live the rest of her unnatural life in the middle, in her twenties, never aging. The idea freaked her out worse than dying.
So, no matter how she looked at it, everything was her own fault. If I'd just died, none of this would be happening! she raged at herself. She could have all the power in the world, but what did it matter? Power obviously didn't been crap if the person didn't know how to use it, how to bend it to their will.
But, Nina knew, that was what it came down to. Somehow, she was still the fragile, little human sulking about her miseries. I was an idiot for leaving, and I'm still an idiot now.
Nina burrowed deeper into her mind. Time faded into the background, meshing with the gray of her life. Somehow, she knew that time was passing--the feeling ingrained in her psyche--but the urgency wasn’t there anymore. She was shattered, unable to pick up the pieces and drag herself together. All Nina wanted to do was go back to that second when the knife had pierced her heart, when her heart had thumped once, twice, before failing her. She just wanted to go back to that past life and die there.
But nothing was ever easy, especially not things that hurt. Pain was difficult; dirty, messy, and fucking difficult. She couldn't say she was surprised when it came, the sudden rush that let her know it was time to wake up and face what was and not what should be or what she wanted it to be.
It was a voice that penetrated her mind; it sounded loud, angry, rushed. Someone was called to her, shook her. Power rushed over Nina, tried to penetrate the walls she’d erected around herself. The voice battered at her mind while the rushing power chipped way at her walls.
“Nina!” a voice screamed at her as heat poured through her body.
The voice sounded familiar. The heat felt familiar.
It’s time, Nina, her conscious whispered, coming slowly back to life.
Prezi and World Building
Wow! I've been super busy with AGL! Everything is coming together nicely, but I'm confusing myself with my own story. LOL So, for that reason, I have created a handy Prezi for myself and you good people to reference. It has everything you need to learn about the royal families, the Underworld, and characters in the book.
I hope it helps you all as much as its helped me!
Reaper Family Tree: http://prezi.com/4lopi5byve88/untitle...
Underworld info and inspired pics: http://prezi.com/d_aan4xxcnns/?utm_ca...
I hope it helps you all as much as its helped me!
Reaper Family Tree: http://prezi.com/4lopi5byve88/untitle...
Underworld info and inspired pics: http://prezi.com/d_aan4xxcnns/?utm_ca...
April 11, 2014
Red Riding Hood (Birth)
A while ago I did a Red Riding Hood story for one of my classes. Everyone loved it, but I felt like there was something missing, something not quite right. Well, in my journey to get the right kind of pain and gore for Can't Fight Fate, I went back to my early stories. This and Fury were perhaps two of my more graphic stories. I needed to get in the same frame of mind I was in when I wrote those stories, so I deiced to go back, edit them, and get back in that state of mind.
So here is my final reversion of Red Riding Hood. I'm not sure if I will ever come back to this story, but like the title suggests, this was a birth for me. This was my first true story that I can say I felt proud of.
I hope you all will like it. New versions will be posted on Mibba, Literotica, and my other sites.
***
Red Riding Hood: Birth
Flames licked up all four sides of the small, thatched roof cottage, consuming everything in their path. Some thirty feet away, Mary Alice crouched behind a withering rose bush; every one of her muscles locked in place. Shivering from the cold and fear racing through her body, she gazed at the violent, swirling flames as they engulfed her home. "No," she whispered, the word sounding loud to her over sensitized ears. Her home was nothing more than burning timber, her parents nothing more than black ashes mixed with the remnants of their lives. Shaking quietly with her eyes glued to the macabre scene unfolding in front of her, Mary Alice sobbed and coughed, the sounds ripped from her sore throat. Smoke snaked through her nostrils tainted with the smell of burning wood, fabric, and bodies. It clouded her eyes, making them water painfully as she tried to search for any sign of life in her home. Fingers clutched tightly in her dirt-stained, white lace nightgown, she prayed that her canine companion would come running out of the burning structure. Her parents--Mary Alice tightened her fingers around the fabric of her nightgown until she felt her nails pressing forcefully into her palms through the fabric--she knew were not going to leave the house. Bits and pieces of her fragmented memory returned to her as her eyes raked over the scene a few feet from her. A glimpse of her mother's chocolate brown curls tousled wildly against a moonlit background. Lips pressed in a tight line, grey eyes shifting through the shadowed room, her mother had grabbed Mary Alice and forced her out of bed and through her open bedroom window. No words had been exchanged between the women. The young woman knowing better than to question her mother. Blood, Mary Alice remembered the smell of blood and the sting from her knees as she’d fallen to the rough ground beneath her bedroom window. Behind her she could hear her mother whispering for her to run, but she’d paused, uncertainty keeping her firmly planted on the ground. The shout that had come from her father's deep baritone made her jump, and the following blood curdling scream from her mother had made her body pitch forward. Crawling, she’d been crawling, trying to escape from a what she did not know. And that was when she’d smelled it, pungent, a smell that had made her gag; blood and burning flesh. Crying and crawling on her skinned knees while dirt found its way under her fingertips and into the stitching on her nightgown, Mary Alice tried to not to look back at the house, look back for her parents. She knew her parents were not coming out of the house. Wiping her tears away with the back or her hand, Mary Alice trained her eyes to the open doorway of her home, flames hallowing the archway. Then, like the Devil coming out from Hell's fire, the silhouette of a man stood in her doorway, flames all around him. Yet the Devil seemed unperturbed, relaxed in the chaos with an ax held in his right hand and her canine held by his scruff in the other.“Wolf,” the whisper escaped her lips before she could bite it back. The Siberian Husky lay passively in the Devil's grip whimpering in dismay. A violent shake from the Devil silenced her furry companion instantly. The Devil stepped from the crumbling structure, turned and became man. Mary Alice watched the Devil-man like a mouse watched a cat. Like a snake rearing for an attack, the Devil-man whipped his head and hissed at the rose bush she was hiding behind. Biting her bottom lip until she tasted blood, Mary Alice remained completely still, knowing who the man was instantly and what he would do if he found her. He stared at the rose bush a moment longer with seething hatred etched into his features, but the sound of villagers footsteps forced him to turn away. Before she blinked next, the Devil-man was gone, merging with the shadows. Voice hoarse, eyes wide and stinging, Mary Alice looked at the blood on her skinned knees, the dirt on her white nightgown and gave the Devil a man, made him alive, breathing, and human. “Hunter Bradshaw.”*** Mary Alice ran, laboring for breath with tears streaming down her small face, throat burning from her exertions. Still she ran, kicking up dirt and debris in her mad dash to the only safe haven she still had. Stumbling, Mary Alice tripped on a root, fell hard, and scraped one entire side of her leg from ankle to thigh and both of her palms. Pain arched through her body, momentarily blinding her. But the smell of smoke was still in her nose, still sitting heavily on her tongue. She could not give up, could not wait for the Devil to find her. Pushing aside the pain, she forced her body back up and ignored the pain throbbing in her body and mind. A few stumbling, painful steps later she was running again, her thoughts a chaotic jumble of wants and needs. I need help. Mary Alice cried into the darkness of her mind, as the forest wind whipped her torn and dirty nightgown around, and the creatures hidden in the shadows watched her with hungry eyes. I need safety. I need my family. Sadly, Mary Alice knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that her parents were dead. When the villagers had arrived and worked quickly to put out the fire, through the two charred half walls reaming of her home, she had seen two twisted charcoal bodies on the piece of floor that had once been the living room. There hadn’t been a guess to who the bodies had belonged to, every villager had known it, and Mary Alice had accepted it. She saw it then over the small rise she stood on, strong and sure, a cottage that could weather even the most traumatic of events. Mary Alice wiped her dirty face with the side of her uncut arm, a watery smile flitting across her lips. Surrounded by edelweiss flowers, with a little white candle on both of the window sills on either side of the front door stood her sanctuary, her second home; grandmother's cottage.*** Cynthia handed the frazzled woman the cup of hot edelweiss tea, and looked down at the child. She looked over the small figure huddled in her arms, and gently rocked her back and forth. Mary Alice had told her grandmother as much as she could between the uncontrollable shudders and broken sobs that wracked her small frame. A brightly burning fire in the hearth heated the cottage, and made it feel cozy and homey, though it did nothing for Mary Alice as she continued to shiver in fear. “R-run! We h-have to r-run!” Mary Alice whispered fearfully, the words coming out choppy from her chattering teeth. “H-he will come. T-the Devil-Hunter will k-kill us. I don’t want to die!” She hugged her grandmother closer, feeling the smooth, beige cotton against her dirty cheek, and smelling the calling edelweiss fragrance that clung to the woman like a second skin. Cynthia stroked her back with gentle hands, soothing the woman. “Calm down, and drink your tea, Mary Alice. It will make you feel better.” Placing the steaming cup on the wooden floor, Mary clutched at her grandmother’s dress sleeves, willing the woman to her understand her fear and panic. “W-we must r-run. He w-will kill us.” Cynthia picked up the tea from the floor and gently ushered Mary Alice to a set of wooden rocking chairs and sat her down in one of them. Sighing deeply she handed it back to the woman. Curling the young woman’s hands around the mug, Cynthia lifting it to her small lips: “Drink your tea, Sweet. You are overwrought, and it will sooth you.” Mary Alice looked at her grandmother over the rim of the cup. Something is wrong. Something is not right. Mary Alice thought frantically for an explanation to the sudden warning bells in her ears, when she heard the howl of a wolf. The two women stilled, eyes going to the windows across the room at the front of the house. Mary Alice knew that howl, it was Wolf’s howl. She turned back to her grandmother, relief breaking over her face, to know her canine companion was not dead. Her grandmother was staring into the darkness of the forest, a frown tugging at her lips. She stared at her grandmother a moment longer, until the woman turned to her, grey eyes seeking hers. Mary Alice’s grandmother did not have grey eyes. My grandmother’s eyes are green. Cynthia touched her face worriedly, looking down at the cup still held up to the woman’s lips, Cynthia said tersely, “Drink your tea, Mary Alice.” Mary Alice's eyes widened to the size of saucers. Her lower lip quivered, and she stared at the woman in front of her, more stranger than family. “Grandmother?” Cynthia rose from her seat and wrapped a mass of Mary Alice’s thick, brown hair around her hand then yanked the woman’s head back, forcing the cup to her lips. “Drink the tea!” Shaking her head wildly and pushing at the woman in front of her, Mary Alice yelped as the tea cup fell into her lap and soaked into her gown to her thighs. She scratched at the hands in her hair, trying to pry them free and kicked at the imposter's legs with all her might. “Let go of me!” The woman, who shared no resemblance to her beloved grandmother other than her silver veined black hair and stolen black frock, stumbled back from Mary Alice. The woman stood clutching her battered hands, grey eyes as wide as saucers, with her mouth opening and closing like a fish dying out of water.In the span of a heartbeat, the air shifted, charged, and the imposter’s face twisted in crazed, blind rage. Before Mary Alice could anticipate it, the woman launched herself at her, screaming a banshee’s song with naked nails curved like claws. “I’ll kill you!” A second before the woman would have claimed her, Mary Alice jumped out of the way, fleeing to the other side of the cottage and bumping up against the low wooden dresser positioned against the wall. While her mind tried to wrap itself around the sudden turn of events the quick and steady tread of paws echoed in her ears. As Mary Alice turned her head to the front door, it burst open, banging against the wall with a sound like a thunder clap. The woman yelped in fear and ducked, crumpling to her dirty, skinned knees on the cold wooden floor. Growls issued from the creature's throat, but Mary Alice knew the sound-- she'd heard it all her life. Lifting her head to the door, wonder and hope flashed across the woman’s consciousness as she looked at Wolf, teeth bared, fur standing on end, in the doorway. Mary Alice reached out a hand to her canine companion, but the animal ignored her efforts and turned to the imposter in the room. He leaped toward the woman, a deep growl emanating from his chest as he dragged the imposter down, front paws on her shoulders, large jaws around the delicate column of her neck. The woman screamed, scratched, and kicked at the canine, desperate to get away. Another growl emanated from deep within Wolf and the canine pressed down harder on the woman’s neck until skin broke and blood flowed onto his muzzle. Cynthia only became more crazed, her struggles more desperate as she clawed at the animal's fur and tried to kick its hind legs. But, all at once, a deadly snap was heard throughout the small cottage and the woman stopped struggling, stopped moving. Mary Alice looked at the scene, and knew the woman was dead. She was shocked, her body shaking violently, teeth chattering painfully as her eyes followed the trail of blood that ran down the woman’s neck, soaking into her dress and the brown patterned area rug underneath her. “Such a waste,” came a sing-song voice from the still open doorway. Mary Alice would forever remember that moment; it was when she turned to look at the Devil, and saw every nightmare she’d ever had embodied in a single man. He strolled into the cottage with ease, and Mary Alice followed his gaze as he cast a cursory look at the two chairs in front of the fireplace, the pale pink canopy bed positioned against the back wall, and finally at the lifeless body in the middle of the small cottage. He never once turned his head to follow Wolf’s steps as the canine positioned himself in front of Mary Alice or the freighted woman huddled on the floor. Hunter stepped forward until he reached the body, and then with absolute calm he crouched down and checked for a pulse at her neck. His fingers came away from the woman's revenged neck covered in blood and tissue. He raised the bloody fingers to his mouth and licked them clean, enjoying the taste of the woman's blood. He shook his head, smiling, his voice happy and carefree. “Such a pity. Cynthia never did listen.” Gaining his feet, he turned to the woman and her canine protector. “It was simple,” he said conversationally to the pair. “Have you drink the tea, then you’d fall asleep. Then it would be easy. I would sell you to slave traders, and claim the money.”Hunter paused and smiled at her, the expression so genuine it made Mary Alice flinch. “Easy, right? But she never listens, and look, she got herself killed. Ha! By a dog no less.” He shrugged carelessly, drawing the woman's eyes to the large ax he wielded in his left hand. He turned sharply and kicked the dead woman's body, hard. “Now look what you’re making me do! I’ll have to kill the woman because you don’t listen.” The Devil turned back to the canine and Mary Alice. Hunter sighed exhaustedly as if the entire endeavor had taken a great toll on him. Finally he turned and faced Mary Alice, his blue eyes combing over her disheveled appearance and tear stained face. Another sigh escaped from his lips as he turned his body and took a step towards the pair. “I’ll make this quick.” But Wolf charged him, pouncing on him and clamping down hard on his ax hand. Hunter yelped in pain and dropped the ax. “Damn dog!” He swore as he used his other hand to beat the dog, punching the growling canine’s head. Mary Alice watched Wolf hold on with all his might to Hunter’s arm, weathering the brute’s attack. Her eyes darted to the ax he had dropped a couple of feet away, and then back to his face. Drawing herself up, Mary Alice crawled slowly towards the ax, staying low to the ground and keeping her eyes trained on Hunter. The Devil was still trying to pry Wolf off his arm by the time her hand curled around the handle of the ax. Wolf was whining and growling in pain as Hunter continued to violently shake and beat the canine, his fist covered in blood, fur, and other things Mary Alice did not want to think about. Drawing on the last of her strength, Mary Alice lifted the ax high above her head with both her hands and moved silently to the back of Hunter. Squeezing her fingers tight around the hilt, the woman bit her lip until she tasted blood and then swung the ax done quickly. At the last minute, Hunter sensed the woman behind him and whipped his body around sharply just as the ax struck his arm, severing the arm that held her canine companion from the bicep down. Blood gushed and sprayed, while Hunter looked at the place where his arm had been and screamed in a mixture of pain and terror. Mary Alice clamped her lips tight as she was showered with his blood, but she didn't stop, couldn't stop. Lifting the ax again, arms shaking with the effort, Mary Alice swung down with all her might stumbling as she did so. The Devil-Hunter was too disoriented to move or block her attack, so the ax lodged with deadly precision in his chest, breaking his ribs and penetrating to his lungs. Mary Alice stared into the Devil’s eyes as he went down seeing her reflection in their murky, pain clouded depths. She saw a woman coated in blood, tears, and dirt from her brown curls to her naked toes. She saw surprise on her face, fear in her eyes, and something else.Whatever it was, Hunter recognized it, a kinship to his soul. Falling to his knees, with an ax embedded in his chest and blood dripped from his wound, Hunter swayed but looked up at Mary Alice and smiled. The Devil smiled like God had just forgiven him, and that was how Hunter Bradshaw died, a smile on his face as he fell into a pool of his own blood. Mary Alice stared at the body for what felt like an eternity, mesmerizing every pour that oozed sweat and blood and death. Her eyes finally looked down, and were caught by the red stain crusting on her fingers, hands, and further up her arms. Her body lurched forward of it’s own accord and her stomach heaved as she vomited water and bile. I killed a man. The thought crippled her, forced her to her knees right beside Hunter’s dead body. Tears streamed down her face, mixing with the blood and falling to the ground. Darkness encroached on her vision, beckoning her to the sweet release of that void. But before Mary Alice could give into the temptation she heard Wolf whimpered. Looking up and towards the canine, she saw tired, half lidded brown eyes stare back at her. As quickly as she could, Mary Alice crawled to her pet, ignoring the slick blood on the floor. Coming over to the canine, she noticed Hunter’s arm still held between Wolf’s jaw. Gently, Mary Alice stroked Wolf’s fur, ignoring the blood and being careful of the broken bones sticking out of the animal’s skin. Slowly, Wolf let go of the arm and whined low, panting out a few short and pained breaths. The canine lifted its head, looked at Mary Alice with unseeing eyes, nuzzled her arm, and promptly died. Mary Alice held him to her breasts, and rocked her pet back and forth, murmuring soothing nothings to her canine companion. Time uncounted passed, and her knees began to ache. Mary Alice ran her hand through her pets fur one final time, ignoring the chunks of skin and fur that twined around her fingers. “Good boy. You’re such a good boy,” she whispered as she laid him back down on the ground. Pushing up from the floor, she smoothed her hands down the front of her nightgown and looked around the room. Light was peeking through the closed blinds of the front windows, shafts of light highlighting various gruesome scenes in the small cottage.Forcing her body to move, Mary Alice glided around her grandmother’s home like a ghost, bar feet barely touching the slick floor. The stench of death was heavy in the air, embedded in the hints of smoke, edelweiss, and the forests own unique scent. Mary Alice glided past the three bodies littered around the room and towards her grandmother's closet.“I have to get dressed or I’ll be scolded,” Mary Alice muttered as she reached for the brass knob of the closet. Turning the knob, she opened the door wide and took a large step back as her grandmother fell out.Bending down, Mary Alice felt the back of her grandmother’s cool neck for any sign of a pulse. There was none. Straightening, the woman stepped over her grandmother’s body and moved towards the chest at the end of the bed that housed all her grandmother's most precious possessions. Lifting the wooden lid, Mary Alice pulled out a simple green frock and a red riding hood. She laid the outfit out on the bed, stepped over the bodies to the low dresser, and poured the blue flowered pitcher of water into a matching blue basin. The water felt cold, freezing as Mary Alice splashed it on her face. She felt the water trail down her forehead to her eyelids, and drops fall of her lashes and into the basin. Again and again she cleaned herself, removing the blood and grime from her face, hair, and hand. Mary Alice had repeated the action so many times in the past that she did not even open her eyes, but instinctively reached for the face towel her grandmother usually kept folded neatly beside the pitcher and basin, and wiped her face. Then the woman undressed slowly and let her nightgown pool at her feet, dipped the face towel into the rust colored water and began to wipe her body. She slid the cloth up her arms, down her legs, and over her feet. She wiped every inch of the body, ringing out the towel every so often until at last she placed the cloth in the basin and noticed the water looked more like blood.Stepping back over the dead bodies, Mary Alice made her way towards the bed and grabbed the green frock. She slipped the dress over her head and laced up the ties in the front, tying the leather into a neat bow at her neck. Mary Alice reached for the hooded cape and swung it over her shoulder and then did up the three gold leaf shaped button down the front.Flipping up the hood over her head and eyes, she glided over the bodies of her grandmother, the Devil, Hunter, the impostor, Cynthia, and her canine companion, Wolf. Reaching for a pair of kid boots her grandmother kept by the door for her, Mary Alice grabbed the shoes and opened the door. Stepping out into the waiting sun, she turned and closed the door to her grandmother’s cottage. The grass, still wet from morning dew, cleaned her bloodied soles as she walked through the forest, away from her grandmother’s house, her home, her village. No longer was she the sweet, young woman known as Mary Alice; she was now the silent and mysterious woman in the red riding hood.
So here is my final reversion of Red Riding Hood. I'm not sure if I will ever come back to this story, but like the title suggests, this was a birth for me. This was my first true story that I can say I felt proud of.
I hope you all will like it. New versions will be posted on Mibba, Literotica, and my other sites.
***
Red Riding Hood: Birth
Flames licked up all four sides of the small, thatched roof cottage, consuming everything in their path. Some thirty feet away, Mary Alice crouched behind a withering rose bush; every one of her muscles locked in place. Shivering from the cold and fear racing through her body, she gazed at the violent, swirling flames as they engulfed her home. "No," she whispered, the word sounding loud to her over sensitized ears. Her home was nothing more than burning timber, her parents nothing more than black ashes mixed with the remnants of their lives. Shaking quietly with her eyes glued to the macabre scene unfolding in front of her, Mary Alice sobbed and coughed, the sounds ripped from her sore throat. Smoke snaked through her nostrils tainted with the smell of burning wood, fabric, and bodies. It clouded her eyes, making them water painfully as she tried to search for any sign of life in her home. Fingers clutched tightly in her dirt-stained, white lace nightgown, she prayed that her canine companion would come running out of the burning structure. Her parents--Mary Alice tightened her fingers around the fabric of her nightgown until she felt her nails pressing forcefully into her palms through the fabric--she knew were not going to leave the house. Bits and pieces of her fragmented memory returned to her as her eyes raked over the scene a few feet from her. A glimpse of her mother's chocolate brown curls tousled wildly against a moonlit background. Lips pressed in a tight line, grey eyes shifting through the shadowed room, her mother had grabbed Mary Alice and forced her out of bed and through her open bedroom window. No words had been exchanged between the women. The young woman knowing better than to question her mother. Blood, Mary Alice remembered the smell of blood and the sting from her knees as she’d fallen to the rough ground beneath her bedroom window. Behind her she could hear her mother whispering for her to run, but she’d paused, uncertainty keeping her firmly planted on the ground. The shout that had come from her father's deep baritone made her jump, and the following blood curdling scream from her mother had made her body pitch forward. Crawling, she’d been crawling, trying to escape from a what she did not know. And that was when she’d smelled it, pungent, a smell that had made her gag; blood and burning flesh. Crying and crawling on her skinned knees while dirt found its way under her fingertips and into the stitching on her nightgown, Mary Alice tried to not to look back at the house, look back for her parents. She knew her parents were not coming out of the house. Wiping her tears away with the back or her hand, Mary Alice trained her eyes to the open doorway of her home, flames hallowing the archway. Then, like the Devil coming out from Hell's fire, the silhouette of a man stood in her doorway, flames all around him. Yet the Devil seemed unperturbed, relaxed in the chaos with an ax held in his right hand and her canine held by his scruff in the other.“Wolf,” the whisper escaped her lips before she could bite it back. The Siberian Husky lay passively in the Devil's grip whimpering in dismay. A violent shake from the Devil silenced her furry companion instantly. The Devil stepped from the crumbling structure, turned and became man. Mary Alice watched the Devil-man like a mouse watched a cat. Like a snake rearing for an attack, the Devil-man whipped his head and hissed at the rose bush she was hiding behind. Biting her bottom lip until she tasted blood, Mary Alice remained completely still, knowing who the man was instantly and what he would do if he found her. He stared at the rose bush a moment longer with seething hatred etched into his features, but the sound of villagers footsteps forced him to turn away. Before she blinked next, the Devil-man was gone, merging with the shadows. Voice hoarse, eyes wide and stinging, Mary Alice looked at the blood on her skinned knees, the dirt on her white nightgown and gave the Devil a man, made him alive, breathing, and human. “Hunter Bradshaw.”*** Mary Alice ran, laboring for breath with tears streaming down her small face, throat burning from her exertions. Still she ran, kicking up dirt and debris in her mad dash to the only safe haven she still had. Stumbling, Mary Alice tripped on a root, fell hard, and scraped one entire side of her leg from ankle to thigh and both of her palms. Pain arched through her body, momentarily blinding her. But the smell of smoke was still in her nose, still sitting heavily on her tongue. She could not give up, could not wait for the Devil to find her. Pushing aside the pain, she forced her body back up and ignored the pain throbbing in her body and mind. A few stumbling, painful steps later she was running again, her thoughts a chaotic jumble of wants and needs. I need help. Mary Alice cried into the darkness of her mind, as the forest wind whipped her torn and dirty nightgown around, and the creatures hidden in the shadows watched her with hungry eyes. I need safety. I need my family. Sadly, Mary Alice knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that her parents were dead. When the villagers had arrived and worked quickly to put out the fire, through the two charred half walls reaming of her home, she had seen two twisted charcoal bodies on the piece of floor that had once been the living room. There hadn’t been a guess to who the bodies had belonged to, every villager had known it, and Mary Alice had accepted it. She saw it then over the small rise she stood on, strong and sure, a cottage that could weather even the most traumatic of events. Mary Alice wiped her dirty face with the side of her uncut arm, a watery smile flitting across her lips. Surrounded by edelweiss flowers, with a little white candle on both of the window sills on either side of the front door stood her sanctuary, her second home; grandmother's cottage.*** Cynthia handed the frazzled woman the cup of hot edelweiss tea, and looked down at the child. She looked over the small figure huddled in her arms, and gently rocked her back and forth. Mary Alice had told her grandmother as much as she could between the uncontrollable shudders and broken sobs that wracked her small frame. A brightly burning fire in the hearth heated the cottage, and made it feel cozy and homey, though it did nothing for Mary Alice as she continued to shiver in fear. “R-run! We h-have to r-run!” Mary Alice whispered fearfully, the words coming out choppy from her chattering teeth. “H-he will come. T-the Devil-Hunter will k-kill us. I don’t want to die!” She hugged her grandmother closer, feeling the smooth, beige cotton against her dirty cheek, and smelling the calling edelweiss fragrance that clung to the woman like a second skin. Cynthia stroked her back with gentle hands, soothing the woman. “Calm down, and drink your tea, Mary Alice. It will make you feel better.” Placing the steaming cup on the wooden floor, Mary clutched at her grandmother’s dress sleeves, willing the woman to her understand her fear and panic. “W-we must r-run. He w-will kill us.” Cynthia picked up the tea from the floor and gently ushered Mary Alice to a set of wooden rocking chairs and sat her down in one of them. Sighing deeply she handed it back to the woman. Curling the young woman’s hands around the mug, Cynthia lifting it to her small lips: “Drink your tea, Sweet. You are overwrought, and it will sooth you.” Mary Alice looked at her grandmother over the rim of the cup. Something is wrong. Something is not right. Mary Alice thought frantically for an explanation to the sudden warning bells in her ears, when she heard the howl of a wolf. The two women stilled, eyes going to the windows across the room at the front of the house. Mary Alice knew that howl, it was Wolf’s howl. She turned back to her grandmother, relief breaking over her face, to know her canine companion was not dead. Her grandmother was staring into the darkness of the forest, a frown tugging at her lips. She stared at her grandmother a moment longer, until the woman turned to her, grey eyes seeking hers. Mary Alice’s grandmother did not have grey eyes. My grandmother’s eyes are green. Cynthia touched her face worriedly, looking down at the cup still held up to the woman’s lips, Cynthia said tersely, “Drink your tea, Mary Alice.” Mary Alice's eyes widened to the size of saucers. Her lower lip quivered, and she stared at the woman in front of her, more stranger than family. “Grandmother?” Cynthia rose from her seat and wrapped a mass of Mary Alice’s thick, brown hair around her hand then yanked the woman’s head back, forcing the cup to her lips. “Drink the tea!” Shaking her head wildly and pushing at the woman in front of her, Mary Alice yelped as the tea cup fell into her lap and soaked into her gown to her thighs. She scratched at the hands in her hair, trying to pry them free and kicked at the imposter's legs with all her might. “Let go of me!” The woman, who shared no resemblance to her beloved grandmother other than her silver veined black hair and stolen black frock, stumbled back from Mary Alice. The woman stood clutching her battered hands, grey eyes as wide as saucers, with her mouth opening and closing like a fish dying out of water.In the span of a heartbeat, the air shifted, charged, and the imposter’s face twisted in crazed, blind rage. Before Mary Alice could anticipate it, the woman launched herself at her, screaming a banshee’s song with naked nails curved like claws. “I’ll kill you!” A second before the woman would have claimed her, Mary Alice jumped out of the way, fleeing to the other side of the cottage and bumping up against the low wooden dresser positioned against the wall. While her mind tried to wrap itself around the sudden turn of events the quick and steady tread of paws echoed in her ears. As Mary Alice turned her head to the front door, it burst open, banging against the wall with a sound like a thunder clap. The woman yelped in fear and ducked, crumpling to her dirty, skinned knees on the cold wooden floor. Growls issued from the creature's throat, but Mary Alice knew the sound-- she'd heard it all her life. Lifting her head to the door, wonder and hope flashed across the woman’s consciousness as she looked at Wolf, teeth bared, fur standing on end, in the doorway. Mary Alice reached out a hand to her canine companion, but the animal ignored her efforts and turned to the imposter in the room. He leaped toward the woman, a deep growl emanating from his chest as he dragged the imposter down, front paws on her shoulders, large jaws around the delicate column of her neck. The woman screamed, scratched, and kicked at the canine, desperate to get away. Another growl emanated from deep within Wolf and the canine pressed down harder on the woman’s neck until skin broke and blood flowed onto his muzzle. Cynthia only became more crazed, her struggles more desperate as she clawed at the animal's fur and tried to kick its hind legs. But, all at once, a deadly snap was heard throughout the small cottage and the woman stopped struggling, stopped moving. Mary Alice looked at the scene, and knew the woman was dead. She was shocked, her body shaking violently, teeth chattering painfully as her eyes followed the trail of blood that ran down the woman’s neck, soaking into her dress and the brown patterned area rug underneath her. “Such a waste,” came a sing-song voice from the still open doorway. Mary Alice would forever remember that moment; it was when she turned to look at the Devil, and saw every nightmare she’d ever had embodied in a single man. He strolled into the cottage with ease, and Mary Alice followed his gaze as he cast a cursory look at the two chairs in front of the fireplace, the pale pink canopy bed positioned against the back wall, and finally at the lifeless body in the middle of the small cottage. He never once turned his head to follow Wolf’s steps as the canine positioned himself in front of Mary Alice or the freighted woman huddled on the floor. Hunter stepped forward until he reached the body, and then with absolute calm he crouched down and checked for a pulse at her neck. His fingers came away from the woman's revenged neck covered in blood and tissue. He raised the bloody fingers to his mouth and licked them clean, enjoying the taste of the woman's blood. He shook his head, smiling, his voice happy and carefree. “Such a pity. Cynthia never did listen.” Gaining his feet, he turned to the woman and her canine protector. “It was simple,” he said conversationally to the pair. “Have you drink the tea, then you’d fall asleep. Then it would be easy. I would sell you to slave traders, and claim the money.”Hunter paused and smiled at her, the expression so genuine it made Mary Alice flinch. “Easy, right? But she never listens, and look, she got herself killed. Ha! By a dog no less.” He shrugged carelessly, drawing the woman's eyes to the large ax he wielded in his left hand. He turned sharply and kicked the dead woman's body, hard. “Now look what you’re making me do! I’ll have to kill the woman because you don’t listen.” The Devil turned back to the canine and Mary Alice. Hunter sighed exhaustedly as if the entire endeavor had taken a great toll on him. Finally he turned and faced Mary Alice, his blue eyes combing over her disheveled appearance and tear stained face. Another sigh escaped from his lips as he turned his body and took a step towards the pair. “I’ll make this quick.” But Wolf charged him, pouncing on him and clamping down hard on his ax hand. Hunter yelped in pain and dropped the ax. “Damn dog!” He swore as he used his other hand to beat the dog, punching the growling canine’s head. Mary Alice watched Wolf hold on with all his might to Hunter’s arm, weathering the brute’s attack. Her eyes darted to the ax he had dropped a couple of feet away, and then back to his face. Drawing herself up, Mary Alice crawled slowly towards the ax, staying low to the ground and keeping her eyes trained on Hunter. The Devil was still trying to pry Wolf off his arm by the time her hand curled around the handle of the ax. Wolf was whining and growling in pain as Hunter continued to violently shake and beat the canine, his fist covered in blood, fur, and other things Mary Alice did not want to think about. Drawing on the last of her strength, Mary Alice lifted the ax high above her head with both her hands and moved silently to the back of Hunter. Squeezing her fingers tight around the hilt, the woman bit her lip until she tasted blood and then swung the ax done quickly. At the last minute, Hunter sensed the woman behind him and whipped his body around sharply just as the ax struck his arm, severing the arm that held her canine companion from the bicep down. Blood gushed and sprayed, while Hunter looked at the place where his arm had been and screamed in a mixture of pain and terror. Mary Alice clamped her lips tight as she was showered with his blood, but she didn't stop, couldn't stop. Lifting the ax again, arms shaking with the effort, Mary Alice swung down with all her might stumbling as she did so. The Devil-Hunter was too disoriented to move or block her attack, so the ax lodged with deadly precision in his chest, breaking his ribs and penetrating to his lungs. Mary Alice stared into the Devil’s eyes as he went down seeing her reflection in their murky, pain clouded depths. She saw a woman coated in blood, tears, and dirt from her brown curls to her naked toes. She saw surprise on her face, fear in her eyes, and something else.Whatever it was, Hunter recognized it, a kinship to his soul. Falling to his knees, with an ax embedded in his chest and blood dripped from his wound, Hunter swayed but looked up at Mary Alice and smiled. The Devil smiled like God had just forgiven him, and that was how Hunter Bradshaw died, a smile on his face as he fell into a pool of his own blood. Mary Alice stared at the body for what felt like an eternity, mesmerizing every pour that oozed sweat and blood and death. Her eyes finally looked down, and were caught by the red stain crusting on her fingers, hands, and further up her arms. Her body lurched forward of it’s own accord and her stomach heaved as she vomited water and bile. I killed a man. The thought crippled her, forced her to her knees right beside Hunter’s dead body. Tears streamed down her face, mixing with the blood and falling to the ground. Darkness encroached on her vision, beckoning her to the sweet release of that void. But before Mary Alice could give into the temptation she heard Wolf whimpered. Looking up and towards the canine, she saw tired, half lidded brown eyes stare back at her. As quickly as she could, Mary Alice crawled to her pet, ignoring the slick blood on the floor. Coming over to the canine, she noticed Hunter’s arm still held between Wolf’s jaw. Gently, Mary Alice stroked Wolf’s fur, ignoring the blood and being careful of the broken bones sticking out of the animal’s skin. Slowly, Wolf let go of the arm and whined low, panting out a few short and pained breaths. The canine lifted its head, looked at Mary Alice with unseeing eyes, nuzzled her arm, and promptly died. Mary Alice held him to her breasts, and rocked her pet back and forth, murmuring soothing nothings to her canine companion. Time uncounted passed, and her knees began to ache. Mary Alice ran her hand through her pets fur one final time, ignoring the chunks of skin and fur that twined around her fingers. “Good boy. You’re such a good boy,” she whispered as she laid him back down on the ground. Pushing up from the floor, she smoothed her hands down the front of her nightgown and looked around the room. Light was peeking through the closed blinds of the front windows, shafts of light highlighting various gruesome scenes in the small cottage.Forcing her body to move, Mary Alice glided around her grandmother’s home like a ghost, bar feet barely touching the slick floor. The stench of death was heavy in the air, embedded in the hints of smoke, edelweiss, and the forests own unique scent. Mary Alice glided past the three bodies littered around the room and towards her grandmother's closet.“I have to get dressed or I’ll be scolded,” Mary Alice muttered as she reached for the brass knob of the closet. Turning the knob, she opened the door wide and took a large step back as her grandmother fell out.Bending down, Mary Alice felt the back of her grandmother’s cool neck for any sign of a pulse. There was none. Straightening, the woman stepped over her grandmother’s body and moved towards the chest at the end of the bed that housed all her grandmother's most precious possessions. Lifting the wooden lid, Mary Alice pulled out a simple green frock and a red riding hood. She laid the outfit out on the bed, stepped over the bodies to the low dresser, and poured the blue flowered pitcher of water into a matching blue basin. The water felt cold, freezing as Mary Alice splashed it on her face. She felt the water trail down her forehead to her eyelids, and drops fall of her lashes and into the basin. Again and again she cleaned herself, removing the blood and grime from her face, hair, and hand. Mary Alice had repeated the action so many times in the past that she did not even open her eyes, but instinctively reached for the face towel her grandmother usually kept folded neatly beside the pitcher and basin, and wiped her face. Then the woman undressed slowly and let her nightgown pool at her feet, dipped the face towel into the rust colored water and began to wipe her body. She slid the cloth up her arms, down her legs, and over her feet. She wiped every inch of the body, ringing out the towel every so often until at last she placed the cloth in the basin and noticed the water looked more like blood.Stepping back over the dead bodies, Mary Alice made her way towards the bed and grabbed the green frock. She slipped the dress over her head and laced up the ties in the front, tying the leather into a neat bow at her neck. Mary Alice reached for the hooded cape and swung it over her shoulder and then did up the three gold leaf shaped button down the front.Flipping up the hood over her head and eyes, she glided over the bodies of her grandmother, the Devil, Hunter, the impostor, Cynthia, and her canine companion, Wolf. Reaching for a pair of kid boots her grandmother kept by the door for her, Mary Alice grabbed the shoes and opened the door. Stepping out into the waiting sun, she turned and closed the door to her grandmother’s cottage. The grass, still wet from morning dew, cleaned her bloodied soles as she walked through the forest, away from her grandmother’s house, her home, her village. No longer was she the sweet, young woman known as Mary Alice; she was now the silent and mysterious woman in the red riding hood.
