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The first chapter in the book your writing
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[deleted user]
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Jun 22, 2010 07:53PM
i know a lot of us are writing books, so lets make a topic where we can share and evaluate the first chapter in our books.
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This is mine.
Dragon Queen
Chapter One the Tsunami
Aly stomped to her room, disgusted. The door slammed behind her with a resounding thump and Aly sprawled onto her bed. It had been two months since she found out she was adopted, left in the streets of a nearby village. Secretly, she had always known that she was adopted, but when her parents didn’t tell her she became really mad. Their pleas echoed in her head. “We loved you and just had to adopt you.” As if, she thought to herself. They just needed a new servant. That was all she was good for. Serving.
At first they tried to act as though Aly was a normal child, that there was nothing special about her. But she knew. None of the other children made weird things happen. None of them could draw a dragon and make it come alive. Once, when she was terribly frightened of a certain kid that kid found himself hanging from the top of the butcher, Ren’ s shop. It was some form of magyc. Unfortunately, magyc was completely forbidden in the whole land of Ithridel, where she lived. Those who had magycal abilities were sent to the capitol city, Imire, and were never seen again. Once her foster parents learned of her ability, she was taken away from public school and she had a private tutor. That was when they began to make her do more and more work.
Now, at the age of 14, Aly was desperate to get away from the small island that served as a prison for her. Her only comfort was the beach. She would sit for hours, undisturbed and free, looking out across the uncharted sea. She dreamed of being a swordmaster, skilled enough to defeat even the mightiest warriors in combat. To be able to free the people from the terror of the king, Valance. This was her goal, even though she knew she would be lucky to even get off this wretched island. Aly thought of Rumiyan, elite swordmaster of legend, always fighting for the people’s freedom. “That’s what I want to be like,” she said to herself.
As Aly lay on her back she thought of their latest argument with her parents among many. There had been a lot of shouting and yelling. It had ended with Aly stomping away to her room. She needed some time to think.
So, she put on a jacket and slipped out the side door and headed toward the beach. It was deserted, not a person in sight. The uncharted ocean called to her, willing her to join it. Someday, she called back silently. She walked down to the ocean, and sat down on the. As Aly gazed out down at the pools of soft sand forming around her feet, she wondered who her parents were and where they were. Her real parents. She wondered if her parents were somewhere out there, waiting for her to return to them. So absorbed was she in her thoughts that she didn’t see or hear the tsunami wave until it was upon her. Aly went under, gulping large amounts of seawater. She forced herself to stay calm and push her way up. Aly managed to get a few gulps of air before she was pulled under. Something’s pulling on me! I’m going to drown, thought Aly frantically. She tried to swim up, but found she couldn’t. Then she blacked out.
Dragon Queen
Chapter One the Tsunami
Aly stomped to her room, disgusted. The door slammed behind her with a resounding thump and Aly sprawled onto her bed. It had been two months since she found out she was adopted, left in the streets of a nearby village. Secretly, she had always known that she was adopted, but when her parents didn’t tell her she became really mad. Their pleas echoed in her head. “We loved you and just had to adopt you.” As if, she thought to herself. They just needed a new servant. That was all she was good for. Serving.
At first they tried to act as though Aly was a normal child, that there was nothing special about her. But she knew. None of the other children made weird things happen. None of them could draw a dragon and make it come alive. Once, when she was terribly frightened of a certain kid that kid found himself hanging from the top of the butcher, Ren’ s shop. It was some form of magyc. Unfortunately, magyc was completely forbidden in the whole land of Ithridel, where she lived. Those who had magycal abilities were sent to the capitol city, Imire, and were never seen again. Once her foster parents learned of her ability, she was taken away from public school and she had a private tutor. That was when they began to make her do more and more work.
Now, at the age of 14, Aly was desperate to get away from the small island that served as a prison for her. Her only comfort was the beach. She would sit for hours, undisturbed and free, looking out across the uncharted sea. She dreamed of being a swordmaster, skilled enough to defeat even the mightiest warriors in combat. To be able to free the people from the terror of the king, Valance. This was her goal, even though she knew she would be lucky to even get off this wretched island. Aly thought of Rumiyan, elite swordmaster of legend, always fighting for the people’s freedom. “That’s what I want to be like,” she said to herself.
As Aly lay on her back she thought of their latest argument with her parents among many. There had been a lot of shouting and yelling. It had ended with Aly stomping away to her room. She needed some time to think.
So, she put on a jacket and slipped out the side door and headed toward the beach. It was deserted, not a person in sight. The uncharted ocean called to her, willing her to join it. Someday, she called back silently. She walked down to the ocean, and sat down on the. As Aly gazed out down at the pools of soft sand forming around her feet, she wondered who her parents were and where they were. Her real parents. She wondered if her parents were somewhere out there, waiting for her to return to them. So absorbed was she in her thoughts that she didn’t see or hear the tsunami wave until it was upon her. Aly went under, gulping large amounts of seawater. She forced herself to stay calm and push her way up. Aly managed to get a few gulps of air before she was pulled under. Something’s pulling on me! I’m going to drown, thought Aly frantically. She tried to swim up, but found she couldn’t. Then she blacked out.
I'm not the softest editor, but:1) Okay, you use 'uncharted ocean' too much.
2) I'm sorry, but the plotline is terribly cliche. I enjoy it though. ;D no worries.
3) I think she would know if a tsunami were coming. Either that or she's deaf/blind/stupid.
4) I like your writing style. Keeps things moving at a fast-ish pace. :)
And I'm not going to post my first chapter because it's horrible and needs editing by me and it would kill the scroll bar. So yeah. ;D
that was basically me first draft of about five. she doesn't know the tsunami is coming becauise she is so deep in thought. Ill think about what you said though. i have like 8 chapters.
Can you please post a link so I can read it? . . . or upload it to goodreads or something? I'd like to keep on reading...Tsunamis take like 8-10 minutes from the point when water begins to lap from the shore to the point where they're crashing on land.... so yeah, maybe that would work. Just curious.
I shall post the prologue from Sheltered. This is all I have so far, and I'm writing fairly blindly. I realize this is really general as well, but it's the prologue, so it kind of has to be.
They should have seen it coming.
It was 2047 A.D., and the world was well on its way to being obliterated. Buildings were too close together. Technology had grown too complex for the humans meant to use it in the first place - it didn't help that that average human's IQ was gradually decreasing. Crime and suicide rates escalated, and it seemed a war was waging everywhere one set foot. No one bothered with endangered species anymore - there were too many to deal with, and the human race would soon join them if people weren't careful.
The sky was no longer blue. Instead, the population looked up to the thin veil of grey haze covering all they once knew. Green grass could rarely be spotted - any grass at all was a remarkable find. Wild animals could no longer be considered "wild". Nearly every creature had migrated to the cities, because cities were the only things left. Trees, flowers, bushes? Forget them. Such things were only pleasant dreams, reminders of beauty that used to be. Their seeds were on display in failed gardening stores, in case someone ever found a place to plant one.
It was time to change.
An emergency mass meeting was called. Kings, queens, presidents, prime ministers - all of them gathered in a desperate attempt to find out how they could save their damaged earth. Ideas were tossed about and trashed. Everyone in attendance went home each night with a serious migraine and no more hope for humanity than the day before. The pattern repeated for weeks, until the decision was finally reached: everyone would have to start over completely.
Work on this Herculean project began immediately. Every individual that was capable of labor was given a task.
The years following were more dark and dreary than the ones before, but at least it served a purpose. Skyscrapers were quickly reduced to rubble and greens planted in their places. Rivers, oceans, and lakes were purified and cleaned out. Technology that wasn't imperative to the survival of mankind was destroyed, apart from a few cell phones, computers, and cameras, just in case. This went on throughout the entire world, save for seventeen countries that refused to change their ways - these were called rebel countries or break-offs. A few protests occured, but despite this, Mother Earth began to look like herself again.
Nearly 100 years later, the project was all but completed. Most people lived primitively, but they were content, as people tend to be when there isn't an immediate threat of destruction. Things were looking up.
But the earth was still scarred.
They should have seen it coming.
It was 2047 A.D., and the world was well on its way to being obliterated. Buildings were too close together. Technology had grown too complex for the humans meant to use it in the first place - it didn't help that that average human's IQ was gradually decreasing. Crime and suicide rates escalated, and it seemed a war was waging everywhere one set foot. No one bothered with endangered species anymore - there were too many to deal with, and the human race would soon join them if people weren't careful.
The sky was no longer blue. Instead, the population looked up to the thin veil of grey haze covering all they once knew. Green grass could rarely be spotted - any grass at all was a remarkable find. Wild animals could no longer be considered "wild". Nearly every creature had migrated to the cities, because cities were the only things left. Trees, flowers, bushes? Forget them. Such things were only pleasant dreams, reminders of beauty that used to be. Their seeds were on display in failed gardening stores, in case someone ever found a place to plant one.
It was time to change.
An emergency mass meeting was called. Kings, queens, presidents, prime ministers - all of them gathered in a desperate attempt to find out how they could save their damaged earth. Ideas were tossed about and trashed. Everyone in attendance went home each night with a serious migraine and no more hope for humanity than the day before. The pattern repeated for weeks, until the decision was finally reached: everyone would have to start over completely.
Work on this Herculean project began immediately. Every individual that was capable of labor was given a task.
The years following were more dark and dreary than the ones before, but at least it served a purpose. Skyscrapers were quickly reduced to rubble and greens planted in their places. Rivers, oceans, and lakes were purified and cleaned out. Technology that wasn't imperative to the survival of mankind was destroyed, apart from a few cell phones, computers, and cameras, just in case. This went on throughout the entire world, save for seventeen countries that refused to change their ways - these were called rebel countries or break-offs. A few protests occured, but despite this, Mother Earth began to look like herself again.
Nearly 100 years later, the project was all but completed. Most people lived primitively, but they were content, as people tend to be when there isn't an immediate threat of destruction. Things were looking up.
But the earth was still scarred.
Thanks for reviewing it on the actual story page thingy. =] Seeing people like my writing gives me a warm fuzzy feeling.
Mod
Hahaha. Yeah, I'm having issues with my fantasy at the moment. I had no idea what I was doing when I started it, so it ended up making no sense and I got irritated just thinking about it. I'm also having a mental breakdown when it comes to my other story... I don't know what to do with it. SHUT UP, MAXY!
Mod
*hands Maxy a nice cookie*
Why thank you! *shifty eyes, then inhales the cookie without even chewing*
Mod
Fantasy/sci-fi is the easiest thing for me to write. I have a rather large imagination :P
Mod
You could say the same thing for regular fiction.
Mod
http://www.goodreads.com/story/show/2...this is the first chapter of Vanish, my first novel. Please read and review
First chapter of Blinded by the Light.
Caz grips my hand. “You ready?” she asks. I sigh, and reply in a dead monotone, “As I’ll ever be,”
I can tell she’s excited, even if I’m not. I sense movement – she’s wheeling me into the school grounds. Silence falls. I knew this would happen. I tell myself. I knew that they would stare.
And they are staring, even if I can’t see it. I can feel it, a hundred pairs of eyes boring into me. I just want to shrink and disappear completely. No, wait; I’ve wanted that for a while.
Never talk in an awkward silence. I must remember to remind Caz of that, because as everyone was staring at me, she must have been ignoring them, because she said, brightly, “So, what’s your first subject?” I looked at her (in a metaphorical way) and tried to remember. “Science… I think.” I said, thinking back to my timetable. Week one, Monday. Yes, Science.
Suddenly, an ear-piercing ringing filled the air. I could tell by the trudging noises that the noise was the bell, indicating first lesson. Normally, I would wheel myself to it, but because I didn’t know the building, I got Caz to do it for me.
I was looking forward to starting a new school, after months of home schooling. My mother wanted me to go to a disabled school, but I said no, the only pasts of me that don’t work are my eyes. And my legs. Or at least where they used to be.
As we roll into class, I am self-conscious. People are staring, and I know why. I have dark glasses on, in a wheelchair. I’m different. Now I see why mum wanted me to go to a disabled school. Oh well, there’s no turning back.
Now I have a dilemma. I need Caz as my eyes, my legs. But I don’t know if I am allowed her in the class. I definitely should start listening to mum. A young male voice speaks now.
“Hello, Sky. Welcome to form 8P. Have you got your school journal?” I grope around in my bag until I find it, and hold it up.
There is a sound like he is rubbing his hands together. “Excellent. Now, let’s get on with the lesson.” And that was it. Nothing about ‘I’m afraid we have to get rid of your helper.’ No nothing. Just ‘Find a place, get on with the lesson.’
A wave of relief spreads through me. I pick up my paper, and hand it to Caz to write my name, etc. I hear the scratching of the pen. She then reads the first question to me. I give her the answer, she writes it down. I get through the lesson without messing up, and I feel great. I knew coming to a normal school was a good idea.
I get through second period without any trouble. (apart from having a panic attack when I thought I’d lost Caz. Turns out she was looking disapprovingly at some graffiti. Tuh. Typical.) After break I get Caz to check my timetable, and she reads “Music.” Music. That’s not so bad.
I wasn’t wrong either. As I rolled into class, I felt no eyes on me. No one’s staring. I suppose they must have already been told someone disabled is joining their class. Either that, or they’re used to me already.
“Hello, class 8P. Are you ready to do some singing?” a confident woman’s voice said. Singing. I could definitely do that, as long as it was a song I knew. I’ve never really sung before. I rolled into a singing room. There were lots of excited girls chattering. The talking subsides a little as I come in. I heard the click as they insert a CD, and the rustling of paper. The song starts, and I recognise it. Crystal Dean, one of the best singers EVER. I listen to her music, like, all the time. And her number one song – Curiosity – is playing.
I’m ready to sing. The first bars intro pass, and I’m singing. We all are. “Oh, Curiosity, the one thing that is lost on me, oh, Curiosity, I’ve never felt this free...” And I’m thinking, hey, one person here’s really good. And I can hear them, their voice rising up above the others. The other voices falter, as if not sure whether to carry on. It takes me a moment or two to realise the voice was mine. I was singing, louder and brighter than ever.
I had just found my gift.
Caz grips my hand. “You ready?” she asks. I sigh, and reply in a dead monotone, “As I’ll ever be,”
I can tell she’s excited, even if I’m not. I sense movement – she’s wheeling me into the school grounds. Silence falls. I knew this would happen. I tell myself. I knew that they would stare.
And they are staring, even if I can’t see it. I can feel it, a hundred pairs of eyes boring into me. I just want to shrink and disappear completely. No, wait; I’ve wanted that for a while.
Never talk in an awkward silence. I must remember to remind Caz of that, because as everyone was staring at me, she must have been ignoring them, because she said, brightly, “So, what’s your first subject?” I looked at her (in a metaphorical way) and tried to remember. “Science… I think.” I said, thinking back to my timetable. Week one, Monday. Yes, Science.
Suddenly, an ear-piercing ringing filled the air. I could tell by the trudging noises that the noise was the bell, indicating first lesson. Normally, I would wheel myself to it, but because I didn’t know the building, I got Caz to do it for me.
I was looking forward to starting a new school, after months of home schooling. My mother wanted me to go to a disabled school, but I said no, the only pasts of me that don’t work are my eyes. And my legs. Or at least where they used to be.
As we roll into class, I am self-conscious. People are staring, and I know why. I have dark glasses on, in a wheelchair. I’m different. Now I see why mum wanted me to go to a disabled school. Oh well, there’s no turning back.
Now I have a dilemma. I need Caz as my eyes, my legs. But I don’t know if I am allowed her in the class. I definitely should start listening to mum. A young male voice speaks now.
“Hello, Sky. Welcome to form 8P. Have you got your school journal?” I grope around in my bag until I find it, and hold it up.
There is a sound like he is rubbing his hands together. “Excellent. Now, let’s get on with the lesson.” And that was it. Nothing about ‘I’m afraid we have to get rid of your helper.’ No nothing. Just ‘Find a place, get on with the lesson.’
A wave of relief spreads through me. I pick up my paper, and hand it to Caz to write my name, etc. I hear the scratching of the pen. She then reads the first question to me. I give her the answer, she writes it down. I get through the lesson without messing up, and I feel great. I knew coming to a normal school was a good idea.
I get through second period without any trouble. (apart from having a panic attack when I thought I’d lost Caz. Turns out she was looking disapprovingly at some graffiti. Tuh. Typical.) After break I get Caz to check my timetable, and she reads “Music.” Music. That’s not so bad.
I wasn’t wrong either. As I rolled into class, I felt no eyes on me. No one’s staring. I suppose they must have already been told someone disabled is joining their class. Either that, or they’re used to me already.
“Hello, class 8P. Are you ready to do some singing?” a confident woman’s voice said. Singing. I could definitely do that, as long as it was a song I knew. I’ve never really sung before. I rolled into a singing room. There were lots of excited girls chattering. The talking subsides a little as I come in. I heard the click as they insert a CD, and the rustling of paper. The song starts, and I recognise it. Crystal Dean, one of the best singers EVER. I listen to her music, like, all the time. And her number one song – Curiosity – is playing.
I’m ready to sing. The first bars intro pass, and I’m singing. We all are. “Oh, Curiosity, the one thing that is lost on me, oh, Curiosity, I’ve never felt this free...” And I’m thinking, hey, one person here’s really good. And I can hear them, their voice rising up above the others. The other voices falter, as if not sure whether to carry on. It takes me a moment or two to realise the voice was mine. I was singing, louder and brighter than ever.
I had just found my gift.
umm mine isn't that good!
Chapter 1- The pale face’s
When I looked over the cliff I saw them! The pale face people with red, blood eyes. I knew they would catch my cent in an instant. Even from all the way up here they would be able to see every detail on my face. They were the vampires! So beautiful and elegant. There were three of them. There were two males. One of the males was a very, tall, strong and muscular with a scar running through his eye. The other male was very tall and skinny and I had to admit looked really hot! Then there was a small female with pixie hair and was very pretty. In the middle of them was my little brother Josh. His naked body was covered in blood, his hands were tied behind his back, he had bite marks all over his neck, his shaggy hair was all sticky with sweat, he had tears in his eyes and he was half unconscious.
The wind rushed past me and in the direction of the vampires! The pixie haired girl caught my sent and looked up at me. “Get The Girl” I heard her scream. Josh looked up to see me. His eyes showed fear but not for himself but for me! I looked into those eyes which were filled wit blood shot. “RUN, RUN RAYNE, RUN! DON’T LET THEM CATCH YOU” the pixie haired girl covered Josh’s mouth with her hand. “GET HER”, she said and it came out as a growl. I could tell she was the leader. I looked down to see them all staring up at me.
I heard a sound behind me. I whirled around to see a rabbit. When I looked back down at the vampires there was only the pixie haired girl and Josh. I got up to run but right behind me stood the scarred face man and the one that I thought looked hot. The scarred face vamp grabbed the rabbit before it could hop away and ripped its throat open with his teeth (fangs). I watched as the rabbit’s blood flowed down the vamp’s throat. Finally he chucked the dead rabbit to the side and looked at me. His whole mouth was covered in blood, he also curled his lips to make a hissing sound and show his fangs. It was to late there was no were to run!
Chapter 1- The pale face’s
When I looked over the cliff I saw them! The pale face people with red, blood eyes. I knew they would catch my cent in an instant. Even from all the way up here they would be able to see every detail on my face. They were the vampires! So beautiful and elegant. There were three of them. There were two males. One of the males was a very, tall, strong and muscular with a scar running through his eye. The other male was very tall and skinny and I had to admit looked really hot! Then there was a small female with pixie hair and was very pretty. In the middle of them was my little brother Josh. His naked body was covered in blood, his hands were tied behind his back, he had bite marks all over his neck, his shaggy hair was all sticky with sweat, he had tears in his eyes and he was half unconscious.
The wind rushed past me and in the direction of the vampires! The pixie haired girl caught my sent and looked up at me. “Get The Girl” I heard her scream. Josh looked up to see me. His eyes showed fear but not for himself but for me! I looked into those eyes which were filled wit blood shot. “RUN, RUN RAYNE, RUN! DON’T LET THEM CATCH YOU” the pixie haired girl covered Josh’s mouth with her hand. “GET HER”, she said and it came out as a growl. I could tell she was the leader. I looked down to see them all staring up at me.
I heard a sound behind me. I whirled around to see a rabbit. When I looked back down at the vampires there was only the pixie haired girl and Josh. I got up to run but right behind me stood the scarred face man and the one that I thought looked hot. The scarred face vamp grabbed the rabbit before it could hop away and ripped its throat open with his teeth (fangs). I watched as the rabbit’s blood flowed down the vamp’s throat. Finally he chucked the dead rabbit to the side and looked at me. His whole mouth was covered in blood, he also curled his lips to make a hissing sound and show his fangs. It was to late there was no were to run!
This is the first chapter of The Long Way(working title)June 15, 2020
Ring! My alarm clock rang through my little flat. I groaned and slapped the snooze button. I sat up and looked at the red digital numbers. 6:45 AM. I groaned again and sat up, putting my head in my hands. Another nightmare. They were coming daily now, the same horrifying scene night after night. My mind subliminally flashed back to that night.
A scream pierces the calm night air..
.
A man, clad in black, with a horrible burn scar covering the whole of the left side of his face...
A twelve-inch, double-edged blade, covered in dark blood...
I shuddered and snapped out of it. I pulled on a pair of gray sweatpants and a U.S. Special Forces shirt, sat down in front of the TV and turned on Sportscenter. Crap, the Mets lost again. Just as the topic switched from the Mets’ ten game losing streak to the Yankees game, the video phone rang. I looked at the name and groaned again. Cambridge, Andrew. I tapped the button and a middle aged man with graying hair, wearing a suit, popped up next to the Web Gems.
“Whatever you want, Andy, the answer is no.” I said to the man, not turning my head from the Sportscenter broadcast. He sighed and looked at me with a sad expression.
“C’mon, Rio, just one more mission.” He sounded like a five year old kid begging his brother to play with him.
“I said no the first ten times you asked me.” I told him, standing up. “What makes you think that this time would be any different?”
“Turn on the news.”
“Excuse me?”
“CNN. Turn it on now, Michael.” I picked up the TV remote and switched to CCN news. A British woman in her mid-thirties was giving a report.
“...As the soldiers pound into the city, you can see him. Right there! The man in the mask finally shows his face!” she pointed at a man standing on a Hummer. He was about six foot two, wearing green army fatigues. He had green eyes, hair as black as pitch...and an angry burn scar across the left side of his face. He was ten years older, and the scar was less prominent, but I would never forget that face...
“Daddy!” Katie screams. I bolt out of bed and down the hall, leap down the stairs, and skid into the hallway, Katie’s screams sending me on high alert. I shove through the bedroom door and flip on the light. The sight I am met with stops my heart cold. A man wearing a black sweatshirt and black jeans stands on the other side of the room, one foot through window and one hand on a twelve-inch blade. He sees me and drops the blade. He tumbles out the second-story window, lands on the cold ground with a thud.
Are you all right, sweetie?" I asked, panic rising in my voice. "Did he hurt you?"
"Daddy..." But her voice is weaker. I pull off the covers and see the crimson flower flooding across her stomach. I feel her pulse. It is getting lower. I whip out my cell phone and call 911. I sit on the bed beside her.
"Don’t worry, baby." I assure her. "It's gonna be okay." I feel her pulse again.
"Daddy..." and then her eyes close, her chest stops rising, her pulse stops. I gaze at her in horror. I walked to the window and screamed to the night.” Seven!" I cried. "She was only seven...” my voice broke. “I'll get you if it kills me, you heartless son-of-a..."
“Him,” I whispered. “It’s him.”
“So,” Andy said, a slight smile on his face. “Meet you in Campbell at seven?”
“I’ll be there.” I said quietly. I clicked the End button and walked to the door in a stupor. I barely remember the ten-minute drive to Fort Campbell. I pulled up in front of the old brown building. I stepped out and barely acknowledged the squad of Green Berets standing at attention in two lines, leading from the Land Rover to the door. I walked through the glass double doors. I stood in front of the receptionist desk until the secretary, Judy by her nametag, noticed me.
“Ah, Lieutenant Mayfair!” She said. “Colonel Cambridge has been expecting you.”
“I bet he has,” I muttered, and the receptionist led me into a room made of tinted black glass. I sat down in one of the chairs around a conference table. Sitting across from me was Colonel Andrew Cambridge and a woman in her twenties who I didn’t recognize. Sitting near the middle of the table was another woman, in her forties, with black hair and robins-egg blue eyes. I groaned inwardly.
“What are you doing here?” I asked her. She smiled at me.
“Hello to you too, honey.” She said. She had some warmth in her eyes, but I saw the glint of a well-seasoned soldier that never leaves you after you became a Special Forces agent.
“Don’t try that ‘honey’ crap with me.” I said, my voice becoming louder and angrier. “We,” I pointed at her, then at my chest. “Were done ten years ago. You are a selfish, insolent, impertinent little...”
“I believe that’s quite enough, Lieutenant!” The woman said. She stood up, and I fought the overwhelming urge to crawl into a corner. This lady was either extremely powerful or extremely dangerous. Or both. She simply emanated power. ‘You will treat Major Mayfair as an equal while you are in a federal building. Your personal lives do not interest me, nor do the terms of your divorce.” My former wife flinched.
“My name is Major Jones, General.” She said. She didn’t use my name anymore.
“No matter,” the general said, waving a hand. “We have a job for you, Lieutenant.”
“If the job is just for me, sir, then why is she here?” I pointed at my ex-wife, who was staring daggers at me.
“Major Jones is the leading expert on this particular subject.” She looked at me and smiled. “She is here to educate you on the subject.”
“And what subject, sir, may I ask is that?” the general picked up a clicker and pointed it to the back of the room.
“A Mr. Ambrus Bandi.” She said. A PowerPoint presentation appeared on the wall. A picture of the man wearing a black turban-like garment that covered his face appeared on the screen. “The press is fond of referring to him as ‘the Man in the Mask’, or ‘Az Ember a Maszk’. But you would probably remember him a different way.” She clicked the clicker again, and the turban disappeared. It was impossible to surpress the gasp that escaped from my lips. My ex-wife looked horrified.
A man, clad in black, with a horrible burn scar covering the whole of the left side of his face...
The realization hit me like a freight train. Ambrus Bandi was the one I had seen in my house all those years ago. Ambrus Bandi was the one with the burn mark.
Ambrus Bandi was the one who had killed my seven-year old daughter.
The general didn’t skip a beat.
“Ambrus Bandi shows up about twenty-five years ago, when he was twenty-seven. He’s of Hungarian descent, and very proud of his heritage. When he’s twenty-seven, he starts a protest in Budapest, which ends with a massive explosion that completely destroys the Royal Palace. He catches a hot shard of metal in the face. That’s how he got the burn scar. He ends up in prison for fifteen years because of that.
“Once he gets out of prison, he’s recruited by the AVO, the Hungarian secret police. They have a bit of a grudge against a certain Green Beret, who had earlier foiled a Hungarian mission, which is, by the way, still classified. They want him taken care of. So they send Bandi to get rid of him. Can you guess who this Green Beret may have been?” I pointed at my chest.
“Exactly.” The general said. “So he goes on this mission, and tells the AVO that he succeeded, which obviously, he didn’t. So they reward him with a couple hundred thousand dollars and a spot in the AVO. He does a couple missions for them, and then just drops off the face of the earth. We don’t hear of him for five years, when bang, he’s the general of the Hungarian army and takes over most of the Middle East. He renames the Middle East and calls it Szüloföld, the Hungarian word for Motherland. Then he stages a huge rebellion and takes over as the President of Szüloföld. He has remained in that position for three years.
“Three weeks ago, we got intel from a Hungarian general that says that Bandi is fabricating a plan to take over the United States. We don’t know how he plans to do it, but we need to stop him. So that’s where you come in.”
“What exactly do you want me to do, sir?” I asked, leaning forward in my seat. She looked at me with triumph in her eyes.
“We want you to assassinate him.”
that was really good! cant wait to hear the rest of it!
Laura -- Pictoperson Extraordinaire wrote: "Can you please post a link so I can read it? . . . or upload it to goodreads or something? I'd like to keep on reading...
Tsunamis take like 8-10 minutes from the point when water begins to lap f..."
i will...
Tsunamis take like 8-10 minutes from the point when water begins to lap f..."
i will...
Ok: From my main story 'Blood of Angels,' that is no longer avable on this site- sorry, but i'm hoping to get it published, i'm 26.5 thousand words in so far XD a while to go though.
1: Cry for blood: Violet
It was like time stood still when the door opened to my bedroom, light flooding the wooden floor. Suspense held in the air, trees rustled outside and somewhere inside of me a warning was screaming as people dressed in all black tip-toed silently into my room.
I felt my stomach clinch with unease as telltale footsteps padded closer to my bed. They had found me, I thought to myself as a soft tingling sensation touched my fingertips, and a new found confidence filled me like light. After so many years of being paranoid, it’s finally confirmed. They want me.
I had always known this time would come, no matter how many times my parents said I was over reacting- I knew I was right.
Softly the covers draped over me pulled back, and I peeked out of my eyes as the moon light caught a silver blade- wondering if this really was the end. My breath caught in my throat.
The man raised the silver blade, aching for new blood as he positioned for the kill but he was obliviously an idiot. Only someone this dumb could think it would be this easy to kill me, I wondered to myself as the man brought the knife down hard through the air. But it was as if he knew something was wrong and he wasn’t the only one as his companions shuffled from foot to foot. But it wasn’t as easy as making the blade disappear; it would exhaust me too quickly, but I did the next best thing. As the flames engulfed the blade, the man dropped it in shook, flinching as flames licked his bare skin, rising up over his gloves- and as soon as he dropped the blade, I shattered it into millions of pieces, confetti showering down on me.
My eyes flicked open.
One of the three men tried to attack me but he was stopped by an invisible wall, and fell backwards as if he was hit by an electric shot. Flinching and twitching he crumpled to the floor in a fit of spasms as the others grabbed at their belts. But I spun to the side as one of the guys leaped past my shield, a wicked curved blade slicing through my bed, missing me by millimetres. I leaped off my bed and made a run for the door but I timed it wrong as the other man punched me in the back and I fell to the floor; crying out into the silent night, the wind was knocked out of me. He tried to make another move, but I twisted around, ignoring my protesting lungs and kicked him in the stomach, my extra speed and strength giving me an advantage over the experienced fighters.
He flew backwards and hit the window hard before crumbling in on himself and falling through the open portal, just as the other man came to stand over me, his curved blade by his side. Without thinking a force exploded from my hands as I raised them in defence, sending the man speeding through the air after his friend as I gasped for breath. Then I waited- and waited; for another to attack, for pain to make me cry out… but nothing came. The night was silent besides my heart racing from the rush of danger but still I found tears starting to flow steadily down my face as my confidence ebbed away into the darkness. I scrambled off the floor and headed towards the door, not wanting to find out if there were any more men in black as I tried not to make a sound.
I could hear the activity below me- the searching- and I realised it would be a quick dash to make it out of the house. It was now or never.
I didn’t bother with the stairs to lower level, instead, jumping off the edge of the rails in one fluid movement, landing softly on my feet in a crouching position. I could hear more men swearing in the rooms behind me as I startled them, but quickly they organised themselves and quickly ran after me but I was already locking doors as I went with my mind.
Then I saw something that made me pull up short as I stifled a cry.
Maybe it was too late for anything…
My parents were lying on the ground, blood staining their clothes from where it flowed steadily from there stabbed stomachs. I fell to the ground, no end to my tears as they leaked like a river from my eyes, damping my baggy shirt and shorts. I felt so alone.
It was easy to see that they didn’t go down easily. The lounge room was a mess; objects lying randomly on the floor, broken glass scattered throughout the carpet- and my mother’s favourite vase from Venice smashed into many pieces next to the sofa. It made my heart cry and I couldn’t bear to look at their faces; my mother’s damp, bloody curls, and peaceful face, my father’s ripped open stomach and bloody organs- the nasty bruise on his head… it was my whole life dead on the ground. I couldn’t believe what was happing, it was all too fast and I had the feeling I was in shock. Who wouldn’t be?
I don’t know what happened next, everything was a blur and I couldn’t put two images together- I felt like screaming at my restrictions. First someone bashed through the door, shoulder first, than they were upon me, ready to finally silence me. But I didn’t care. My whole body was now tingling, and I felt my eyes deepen, my purple eyes darking as I crouched on the ground, daring the killers and there I calmed down. The coolness of my power overwhelming me as the tingling from my fingers rose. Then I raised my hands and it was just like before, how the force exploded from me as I stared up at the men with such loathsome. But instead of pushing the men backwards, it went through them and they cried out with such pain that I was sure the whole world would have heard. But I didn’t care as they exploded like fireworks, light and particles flying everywhere as thick crimson blood splattered against the newly painted walls. They deserved it all.
I felt a warm, thick liquid run down my face, the taste of bitter blood on my lips and I wiped my nose on my arm as a sense of dizziness washed over me, my arm tainted silver. I spat on the swaying floor as fresh blood continued to flow from my nose but I ignored it. Wiping my face on my selves, I slowly stood up from the ground, looking at all the blood around me, all the life gone. It was all such an un-necessary lost just because people hated others who were different- or maybe it was something else, but I didn’t care. I wiped my eyes and cuddled my queasy stomach as it churned from all the mess, gore and carnage.
Slam!
I looked up and straight into the eyes of four more men as they ran into the room, knifes in hands. It was like “they” had sent a whole army against me. I wiped my eyes and sighed, trying to bring myself back to my senses but I used to much power; I was weak and giving up hope fast. So, I did the only thing I could. I ran- and I didn’t stop. I just kept running as I used my last bit of strength to smash open the locked front door with the slightest touch of my hands. Then I was gone, racing through the dark night, through the streets and into the forest. My life the only thing I possessed for I was now, officially- alone.
I could hear the pursuit after me, the flying knives and bullets as they tried to wound me, the swearing voices. But what they didn’t understand was that I was on auto-control, no wounds short of fatal were going to slow me down. Then I heard something that startled me to my core- sirens. They sounded so normal in this bizarre scene that they shocked me. It seemed the neighbours finally realised something was up. But I continued to run. No adult, no matter how reassuring could help me now. Then SMASH! I rebounded off a force field, the wind knocked out of me as I was thrown backwards, air born. It hurt badly, and I could already feel myself bruise, sickly white splotches mixing with the glistening, silver liquid of my blood as I hit the ground hard. I groaned, coughing up a sparkling liquid as I made a weak attempt to push back my dark brown, matted curls off my face. But still I could barely see.
Why was life so crap?
Then I heard a soft crunch as someone fell to the ground from a tree and I froze.
Footsteps, light and sure, sounded behind me, closer and louder. I didn’t know what to do. I was too weak to fight, too sore to move so I choose my last option. Do nothing. It wasn’t my best idea, but it was my only idea I could actually achieve without killing myself. But maybe, in the future, I would regret this choice of living. Who knew what was going to happen to me. But then again- I didn’t care. Inside I was dead as I lay helplessly on the ground, my enemy pausing next to me.
I felt a soft hand touch my shoulder gently, fondly even, as one by one, the lights went out and once more, darkness took me under its wing.
1: Cry for blood: Violet
It was like time stood still when the door opened to my bedroom, light flooding the wooden floor. Suspense held in the air, trees rustled outside and somewhere inside of me a warning was screaming as people dressed in all black tip-toed silently into my room.
I felt my stomach clinch with unease as telltale footsteps padded closer to my bed. They had found me, I thought to myself as a soft tingling sensation touched my fingertips, and a new found confidence filled me like light. After so many years of being paranoid, it’s finally confirmed. They want me.
I had always known this time would come, no matter how many times my parents said I was over reacting- I knew I was right.
Softly the covers draped over me pulled back, and I peeked out of my eyes as the moon light caught a silver blade- wondering if this really was the end. My breath caught in my throat.
The man raised the silver blade, aching for new blood as he positioned for the kill but he was obliviously an idiot. Only someone this dumb could think it would be this easy to kill me, I wondered to myself as the man brought the knife down hard through the air. But it was as if he knew something was wrong and he wasn’t the only one as his companions shuffled from foot to foot. But it wasn’t as easy as making the blade disappear; it would exhaust me too quickly, but I did the next best thing. As the flames engulfed the blade, the man dropped it in shook, flinching as flames licked his bare skin, rising up over his gloves- and as soon as he dropped the blade, I shattered it into millions of pieces, confetti showering down on me.
My eyes flicked open.
One of the three men tried to attack me but he was stopped by an invisible wall, and fell backwards as if he was hit by an electric shot. Flinching and twitching he crumpled to the floor in a fit of spasms as the others grabbed at their belts. But I spun to the side as one of the guys leaped past my shield, a wicked curved blade slicing through my bed, missing me by millimetres. I leaped off my bed and made a run for the door but I timed it wrong as the other man punched me in the back and I fell to the floor; crying out into the silent night, the wind was knocked out of me. He tried to make another move, but I twisted around, ignoring my protesting lungs and kicked him in the stomach, my extra speed and strength giving me an advantage over the experienced fighters.
He flew backwards and hit the window hard before crumbling in on himself and falling through the open portal, just as the other man came to stand over me, his curved blade by his side. Without thinking a force exploded from my hands as I raised them in defence, sending the man speeding through the air after his friend as I gasped for breath. Then I waited- and waited; for another to attack, for pain to make me cry out… but nothing came. The night was silent besides my heart racing from the rush of danger but still I found tears starting to flow steadily down my face as my confidence ebbed away into the darkness. I scrambled off the floor and headed towards the door, not wanting to find out if there were any more men in black as I tried not to make a sound.
I could hear the activity below me- the searching- and I realised it would be a quick dash to make it out of the house. It was now or never.
I didn’t bother with the stairs to lower level, instead, jumping off the edge of the rails in one fluid movement, landing softly on my feet in a crouching position. I could hear more men swearing in the rooms behind me as I startled them, but quickly they organised themselves and quickly ran after me but I was already locking doors as I went with my mind.
Then I saw something that made me pull up short as I stifled a cry.
Maybe it was too late for anything…
My parents were lying on the ground, blood staining their clothes from where it flowed steadily from there stabbed stomachs. I fell to the ground, no end to my tears as they leaked like a river from my eyes, damping my baggy shirt and shorts. I felt so alone.
It was easy to see that they didn’t go down easily. The lounge room was a mess; objects lying randomly on the floor, broken glass scattered throughout the carpet- and my mother’s favourite vase from Venice smashed into many pieces next to the sofa. It made my heart cry and I couldn’t bear to look at their faces; my mother’s damp, bloody curls, and peaceful face, my father’s ripped open stomach and bloody organs- the nasty bruise on his head… it was my whole life dead on the ground. I couldn’t believe what was happing, it was all too fast and I had the feeling I was in shock. Who wouldn’t be?
I don’t know what happened next, everything was a blur and I couldn’t put two images together- I felt like screaming at my restrictions. First someone bashed through the door, shoulder first, than they were upon me, ready to finally silence me. But I didn’t care. My whole body was now tingling, and I felt my eyes deepen, my purple eyes darking as I crouched on the ground, daring the killers and there I calmed down. The coolness of my power overwhelming me as the tingling from my fingers rose. Then I raised my hands and it was just like before, how the force exploded from me as I stared up at the men with such loathsome. But instead of pushing the men backwards, it went through them and they cried out with such pain that I was sure the whole world would have heard. But I didn’t care as they exploded like fireworks, light and particles flying everywhere as thick crimson blood splattered against the newly painted walls. They deserved it all.
I felt a warm, thick liquid run down my face, the taste of bitter blood on my lips and I wiped my nose on my arm as a sense of dizziness washed over me, my arm tainted silver. I spat on the swaying floor as fresh blood continued to flow from my nose but I ignored it. Wiping my face on my selves, I slowly stood up from the ground, looking at all the blood around me, all the life gone. It was all such an un-necessary lost just because people hated others who were different- or maybe it was something else, but I didn’t care. I wiped my eyes and cuddled my queasy stomach as it churned from all the mess, gore and carnage.
Slam!
I looked up and straight into the eyes of four more men as they ran into the room, knifes in hands. It was like “they” had sent a whole army against me. I wiped my eyes and sighed, trying to bring myself back to my senses but I used to much power; I was weak and giving up hope fast. So, I did the only thing I could. I ran- and I didn’t stop. I just kept running as I used my last bit of strength to smash open the locked front door with the slightest touch of my hands. Then I was gone, racing through the dark night, through the streets and into the forest. My life the only thing I possessed for I was now, officially- alone.
I could hear the pursuit after me, the flying knives and bullets as they tried to wound me, the swearing voices. But what they didn’t understand was that I was on auto-control, no wounds short of fatal were going to slow me down. Then I heard something that startled me to my core- sirens. They sounded so normal in this bizarre scene that they shocked me. It seemed the neighbours finally realised something was up. But I continued to run. No adult, no matter how reassuring could help me now. Then SMASH! I rebounded off a force field, the wind knocked out of me as I was thrown backwards, air born. It hurt badly, and I could already feel myself bruise, sickly white splotches mixing with the glistening, silver liquid of my blood as I hit the ground hard. I groaned, coughing up a sparkling liquid as I made a weak attempt to push back my dark brown, matted curls off my face. But still I could barely see.
Why was life so crap?
Then I heard a soft crunch as someone fell to the ground from a tree and I froze.
Footsteps, light and sure, sounded behind me, closer and louder. I didn’t know what to do. I was too weak to fight, too sore to move so I choose my last option. Do nothing. It wasn’t my best idea, but it was my only idea I could actually achieve without killing myself. But maybe, in the future, I would regret this choice of living. Who knew what was going to happen to me. But then again- I didn’t care. Inside I was dead as I lay helplessly on the ground, my enemy pausing next to me.
I felt a soft hand touch my shoulder gently, fondly even, as one by one, the lights went out and once more, darkness took me under its wing.
Part 1 of Chapter 1:Silence. Strange silence. I looked around, trying to find what would make everything so still, so quiet. It was as if everyone and everything in the world just disappeared. I ran through the woods that had been so full of life just a few moments ago.
Then there was a street. I stopped and stared at it in surprise. Where did it come from? I turned to look behind me. The woods seemed to have stopped abruptly. I slowly turned back around and blinked. I cautiously looked both ways and put a trembling foot on the street. I sprinted across, praying that no one was there to hit me.
I quickly found the other side and jumped on it, only then realizing that no cars were even moving. I kept traveling on, going down the road, looking from here to there. Where was all the noise?
Then I heard it. A loud rushing sound; something hit a liquid’s surface brutally. I quickly ran towards it, and stopped when I got there. There was a large waterfall, with sparkling water, a light mist coming from the spray of water hitting the pond’s surface. And it was in the middle of this abandoned city. I stepped closer to it, and then fell on my knees and crawled to the edge, trembling. I didn’t know why; it was as if it deserved a type of reverence.
I looked into the pond. I saw my lush, curly, long, brown hair sweep over my shoulders; my dark blue eyes sparkled in my reflection. I had a very skinny, tall body helping me be more agile than others. I sat there, just staring, until the pond vanished.
“No,” I mumbled. The waterfall started to vanish when I looked up. “No,” I said softly, my eyes widening. The buzz of the city started coming back, and the woods started disappearing too. “No!” I exclaimed jumping to my feet. I heard a screech of tires, and I slowly turned my head to the left and gasped.
There was a car, and it was coming right towards me! I tried to run, but my feet appeared to be frozen on the road. “No!” I screamed, but the car drew nearer and nearer….
I gasped when I woke with a start. I breathed heavily until I caught my breath, but I was still pretty shaken up. “It was only a dream,” I murmured to myself. I looked at my clock. 6:20 A.M. I was going to be woken up in ten minutes, anyways. I stared at my door and bit my lip. Should I tell my mother that I had another nightmare?
It was always the same; every night I had the dream about the pond, waterfall, and woods fading away from the silent, empty society, leaving the scene to be filled with life again. And something always happened to me….
I sighed. No, I had better not. I didn’t want to worry my mother, she already had enough on her mind. I laid back down in my bed and closed my eyes. I guess I could try to get another few minutes of sleep.
But they never came, because the next thing I knew, my mother was gently shaking me awake saying, “Wendy? Wendy, it’s time to wake up.”
I slowly sat up. My mom smiled. “Your last week of school before spring break!”
I gave a fake smile and got dressed. My mom doesn’t need to worry about anything else, I kept telling myself. So I surely won’t tell her about my nightmares again….
At school, I sat at my desk fiddling with my pencil aimlessly. “Creek! Pay attention!” my teacher snapped. I quickly dropped my pencil and stared at her. She sighed. “I don’t care if it’s the last week of school, I still deserve the respect I get everyday!” she exclaimed.
“Yes, Miss Youngsting,” the class answered dully.
She looked at us again with her sharp eyes, and then went back teaching. I slumped back down in my seat and starting playing with my pencil again until the bell rang.
I quickly jumped out of my seat and headed out the door, thinking deeply when I hear, “Oy, Stringy?” I exhaled grumpily and turned around, facing a boy with vivid red hair and dark brown eyes. He was tall and a little too skinny for a boy, but was strong. He had big feet and big hands, but the biggest of all was his front teeth, which he will have to get braces for in the ninth grade, which was a two years wait. His name was Forest, and he was my mortal enemy since Kindergarten when he ate all the animal crackers and then blamed me, so I had no snack for a week. Then things got nastier every year.
“What, Bucktooth?” I answered back. His friends laughed while he scowled.
“You think you’re so clever, eh?” he told me, stepping closer. “But you’re hair still needs washed.”
“You know why you don’t have any girlfriends? You need to take a shower every now and then.” He grimaced furiously at me.
“Shut up!” he snapped.
“Make me,” I replied.
He jumped on me, and I thrust my hand up, smacking him in the nose. He howled with pain and jumped back. “Look what you did, Bozo!” he yelled, revealing a bloody nose.
“That ain’t sayin’ much. Anyone can do that to a wimp like you,” I taunted.
He grimaced again and ran back towards me, shoving me into the sharp edge where a locker and a wall meet. My back stung and my head started throbbing when I made impact. I could feel my face heat up, my fists clench. “Why, you—”
But I never finished, because the water from the nearest water fountain shot out, hitting him in the eye.
“Ouch!” he exclaimed, holding his eye. He stared stupidly at the water fountain and crouched near it. “How did—”
Another shot of water came out and landed in his mouth, making him cough and sputter. I sniggered. It would be so funny if a jet of water just came shooting out and drenched him, I thought.
Just then, a sudden rumbling went through the walls of the school. Forest and his gang looked around at the walls with apprehensive looks on their faces. “What’s that?” one of Forest’s friends asked, scared.
Forest went leaned back over the water fountain. “It sounds like— AAAGGGHHH!!!”
A jet of water with the force of a fire hose threw Forest back, sending him flying into the lockers. I watched in amazement as it finally stopped after every inch of him was so soaked that it would take about an hour to get dry.
Everyone started laughing but me. Wasn’t it strange that when I wanted something to happen, it happens? It was if the water could listen to my commands.
But my thoughts were interrupted my heels clicking down the hallway. All the laughter stopped. Uh-oh, I thought fearfully. Miss Youngsting.
Miss Youngsting gasped. “What on Earth is going on here?” she exclaimed.
A sixth grader squeaked, “A big wave came out of that water fountain—” Someone pointed to the water fountain that was now dripping wet— “And he got soaked,” she finished, pointing to Forest.
Miss Youngsting walked over to Forest and whispered ferociously, “Was anyone with you or provoking you when this happened or might have caused this to happen?”
I groaned for two reasons. One: Miss Youngsting thought every little thing that happens in the world—like a piece of dust falling off a bookshelf—was caused by a student, so she has to find someone to blame. Two: Knowing Forest, I was sure as day follows night that he was going to blame me. And sure enough:
“Miss Youngsting, it was Wendy.”
I gulped. This won’t go over well, I thought.
“Creek, Flame. To the office. Now.”
And we were marched to the office.
Part 2 of Chapter 1:“Wendy,” the principal called in a soft voice. I gulped and stood up to walk in, but was bumped by Forest before going im with him saying, “You are so going to get it.”
I glared at him. “Yeah, right,” was all I could say back. I stepped into the principal’s office.
“Come sit,” the principal said kindly. I quickly sat down in a chair. The principal was a beautiful lady; people often compared her to a super model. She had a beautiful heart-shaped face, gorgeous curly blonde hair, with greenish-blue eyes and a nice figure. No one knew what her job was before she came here, but we knew she was working before. Rumor had it, she was a model.
“So, Forest says that, uh, you had a bit of a fight before,” she started.
“Yes,” I said guiltily.
“Care to explain details?”
“Well, he called me Stringy. He always does. Ever since Kindergarten.”
“What happened?”
“Well, he ate all the animal crackers when the teachers weren’t looking and blamed me, so I didn’t get snack for the whole week. Then… things got nastier and nastier between us these past few years.”
“So, what happened today?” the principal asked kindly.
“Well, I walked out of class, and Forest calls, ‘Oy, Stringy!’ So I turn around and say, ‘What do you want, Bucktooth?’ Then he gets mad and tries to jump on me, but a put my hands up and accidentally give him a bloody nose.”
“So that’s why he was bleeding.”
“Yes.”
“Continue.”
“Well, he goes back and yells at me, ‘Look what you’ve done!’ So I reply, ‘That isn’t saying much, anybody could’ve done that to a wimp like you.’ Then he gets mad at me again and pushed me into the corner where the wall and the lockers meet, hurting my back and head.
“And I was real mad. I was furious. My face was getting hot, my fists were clinching—but then he was hit in the eye by a spray from the water fountain.”
“How peculiar!” the principal exclaimed.
I nodded. “But that’s only the beginning. Then he leans over and he gets shot in the mouth. Then I think, ‘That would be funny if a jet of water hit him.’ And then, this ginormous wave hit him, and he hit the lockers and got soaked.”
“Anything else?”
“No.”
“Hmm, Forest’s story made it sound like you made the water come?”
I laughed. “Me?”
“Well, it could be possible.”
I rolled my eyes. “Well, anyways, Forest lies, too. Remember in Kindergarten?”
“Oh, yes, that’s right. You may leave.”
I stood up and walked out the door. “What’s your punishment?” Forest asked eagerly.
“You didn’t eavesdrop?”
“I did at first, but it was you talking, so I got bored in two seconds.”
“Ooh, real great comeback,” I said sarcastically.
“Shut up.”
“And FYI, I didn’t get a punishment.”
He squinted his eyes at me. “Liar,” he breathed.
“Forest! I want to see you in my office!” the principal called kindly.
Forest got up and walked in, squinting his eyes at me the whole time. I rolled my eyes, got a pass from the front desk, and left the office.
I can not stand that boy. He is the most annoying, cocky, stupid boy in the entire universe. I don’t even know how he has friends!
But then my mind flashed over to what the principal was saying: “Hmm, you’re story sounds different than Forest’s like you caused the water… it could be you.”
What was she talking about? Did she seriously think I could control water with my mind? That’s ridiculous! I can’t even control my own dreams!
Did she seriously think I was some sort of… superhero? I tossed this around in my mind when I entered my next class. “Ahem,” my teacher said. I turned around.
“Here’s the pass,” I grumbled, giving it to her. She smiled, and pointed to my seat. I sat and listened to the lesson.
But it was much more peaceful. I stretched my neck out and counted the numbers of kids in the class. 23, 24… where was number 25?
Then it hit me: Forest was gone. But the office trip surely wouldn’t have taken that long… would it?
Ah, well, I thought, He deserves it anyways.
But what if he had gotten expelled? No, no, that’s a stupid idea, I thought.
But the whole period passed and he never came. The next period passed and he never came. Sure, I was enjoying the peacefulness, but still… what had happened to Forest?
During lunch, I snuck down to the Main Office. After making sure the secretaries weren’t watching, I dashed down the hall, looking into the principal’s door. “Do you think she’s the one?” I heard Forest say.
“Yes,” the principal said distressed. “It has to be, or they would’ve told us a long time ago….”
“But wouldn’t she have figured them out a long time ago?”
“That’s what worries me.”
This was worrying me. What were they talking about?
“So, is she the last piece of the puzzle?” Forest asked.
“I’ve told you already for the thousandth time, YES!”
“Okay, don’t have to be so rude….”
There was a long silence. The principal sighed. “Well, best be getting to lunch, I don’t think they’ll be back for a while….”
The doorknob jiggled, and I gasped. I tried to duck, but it was too late.
“Hey! What are you doin’ here?” Forest exclaimed.
“Who?” the principal asked in a stressed tone, and then hurried out of the office. “You.” She hurried me into the office. “What did you hear?”
“Everything after ‘Do you think she’s the one?’, so about five minutes of the conversation. “What’s going on?”
The principal seemed more relaxed. “Nothing,” she murmured, “Absolutely nothing.”
But she didn’t convince me. “No, what’s seriously going on?”
“Just go to lunch.” She pushed me and Forest out the door. “Bye!” she yelled, slamming the door. Forest and I stared at each other. I squinted my eyes.
“I still hate you,” I said.
“Same,” he mumbled back. “Let’s go to lunch then?”
We started heading down. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” he snapped.
I squinted at him again. “I will always loathe you,” I said, hostile.
“Whatever,” he sneered. Then he ran off towards the lunch line.
(Psst, if you want to read more, just go to "Forces of Nature" by Emily, Zepikness Savior of the Muffins.)
Jordan wrote: "This is the first chapter of The Long Way(working title)June 15, 2020
Ring! My alarm clock rang through my little flat. I groaned and slapped the snooze button. I sat up and looked at the ..."
Love this keep writing!!!!
thank you, ive been working for like a year on it. Its like a spy mystery, with gadgets and everything.
not yet, i'm on the third chapter. I keep procrastinating. :P
thank you, i try.
One year ago, Lily's father died in a fire. She and her mother salvaged what they could and moved to Savannah,Georgia. Her mother can't take it anymore. They go to Captura Island off the coast of Australia in hopes to find peace but this island has many horrifying secrets of its own... Please read and review!http://www.goodreads.com/story/show/2...
okay, that wasa amazing. you really should post the rest of that.
Meh, I can't tell if this is too long or not. I'll post it anyway.
I am a feather
waiting for the wind to come
and carry me home
Prologue
The brisk winter air made Calley regret ignoring her mother.
“Calley, make sure to put on a coat! It’s freezing out,” her mother had yelled from the other room.
“Yeah I will,” she replied, then quickly grabbed a sweatshirt and boots and hurried towards the elevator to go outside with her dog, assuming she’d only be out for a minute. Now, after five minutes of shivering and cold wind easily slicing through her too thin sweatshirt, Calley was thinking of her big, fluffy winter coat that she had refused to wear.
“Sammy, there’s no need to sniff the snow for five minutes. No matter how long you sniff it, it’s still going to be snow,” Calley said to Sam, her family’s golden retriever puppy that somehow became solely Calley’s responsibility to take care of. Unfortunately, this made her the only one who would take Sammy out for a potty break at ten pm in December.
Against Calley’s wishes, three minutes later Sam was still sniffing the snow, making loud and obnoxious snuffling noises the whole time. She looked at the streetlight that sat outside of her building. The light illuminated the snowflakes, falling gently when the wind would stop. Totally focused on the falling snow, her grip on the leash slackened, and she didn’t notice until the leash was yanked out of her hand and Sammy was yapping wildly. Calley heard his barking get farther away, and to her misery when she turned around he was making his way across the street. Calley started running, but came to an abrupt halt at the street curb. After dark, she was alone she was supposed to stay within the boundaries of the apartment building. But she couldn’t go inside without Sam, so with two quick glances on either side she was running across the empty to street towards him. He was in the alley across the street that was filled with garbage cans, barking at a scraggly looking cat sitting on top of a garbage can and hissing.
Calley grabbed his leash, and with a tug and a curt “shush,” Sam fell quiet. The cat had disappeared with Calley’s arrival.
“You probably woke up the whole neighborhood Sammy,” she whispered, “and you’re already in enough trouble with Mr. Baker as it is.” Calley glared at him as she spoke, but his soft brown eyes melted were too much for her. With a small smile, she petted his head and turned towards her building.
As she turned, a man walked by. He saw her standing in the alley and gave her a mischievous smile. “Hey babe, what’cha doing out on a night like this?” he asked, taking one step forward to the alley entrance.
Calley avoided his eyes and looked to the warm sanctuary that was front door of the building. She told him, “I’m going home.”
He took one step forward. “You sure about that?” Another step followed, and he was close enough for Calley to see him in the dim light. His brown hair was short and had that neat look of a recent haircut. A brown jacket and jeans made him look almost normal, but the way he was looking at Calley would have sent shivers down her spine if she wasn’t already shivering from the cold. He took one more step, and Calley could smell smoke on him.
Sammy started to bark again, but the man ignored him and reached out for Calley’s arm. Unable to move because she was shaking so violently, Calley’s only thought was, I’m 12 years old and I’m going to die, and most likely very very painfully. She heard the stories on the news, of kidnappings and rapes and murders, but the possibility of being killed less than 20 feet away from her front door had never occurred to her.
More thoughts rushed into her mind. If she didn’t die, would she have gathered up the courage to ask Dave to the spring dance? How many kids would she have, if she even found a husband at all! Would she and her sister ever finish a game of monopoly? And, most importantly, who was going to take care of Sammy when she was dead? Calley wondered if being dead was as confusing as being alive.
Suddenly, the street light went out. Calley gasped. Then, after a moment’s hesitation, she took advantage of the momentary darkness and ran from the alley, focusing on getting back into the building. But she forgot about the curb, and she tripped, tumbling out on to her back in the middle of the street. The sound of her panting was the only noise on the street, besides the jingle of Sammy’s collar as he ran over to her to give her a warm kiss on her cold cheek. That’s when the pain hit her. There was a sharp pain shooting down her ankle, and when she tried to stand up and put support on the foot she immediately collapsed back down on the icy street.
With a flicker, the street light came back on. Calley could see the alley again. There was someone else there, a shorter, darker figure that seemed to be beating up the man. With a kick to the chest, the man slammed into a garbage can. Calley tried to back up, but she didn’t look away. The man went in for a punch, but the shadow like figure dodged it and grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back. The man cried in pain, but the figure twisted him around and pushed him head first into the garbage can. He didn’t get up; he just lay in a heap, surrounded by garbage.
Calley drew in a sharp breath, realizing that she had been holding her breath the entire time. The figure looked at the man for a moment, and then turned towards Calley and walked towards her. Calley closed her eyes and held up her arm in front of her face for protection, but when she gathered the courage to open her eyes she saw that the figure was holding out their hand. Calley looked up to see who this stranger was.
It was a girl, older than Calley but no older than nineteen. She had on a dark cape, black boots and pants, and a deep purple shirt. Her hair was as dark as her boots and fell down to the middle of her back. The girl’s face was unmasked. Calley took in the girl’s tan skin, confused expression, and the darkest eyes that Calley had ever seen.
“Are you going to let me help you get up, or do you just want to lie in the street for the rest of the night?” the girl said.
Calley immediately recognized the girl when she spoke. She blurted out, “You’re Violet! You’re, you’re the superhero girl! You and, and the others-”
“Don’t hurt yourself even more, kid,” Violet interrupted. Calley took Violet’s hand, while Calley’s wide eyes trying to read Violet’s emotions the whole time. Violet managed to get Calley up on one foot, with one of Violet’s arms around Calley’s waist and one of Calley’s arms around Violet’s shoulders.
“You saved me,” Calley whispered as Violet led her across the street.
Violet laughed a little and said, “Yeah, that’s what I do.”
They hobbled up the steps, Sammy following at their feet, and made their way into the elevator.
“Did you kill him?” Calley asked after she hit the glowing “9” button.
“No, he’s just unconscious. I couldn’t just let him escape while I brought you back up here,” said Violet.
“Oh,” said Calley, and then she fell quiet until they reached her floor. The elevator pinged, and the door opened. “Thanks for all your help,” she said, and hopped out the door on her good foot. To her surprise, Violet came with her. Calley looked at her skeptically.
Violet rolled her eyes. “Bad things almost happened when you were 20 feet away from your door, who says they can’t happen from two feet away? Now, which one’s your apartment?”
Calley pointed a finger to the apartment two doors down from the elevator. “That one.”
Violet walked Calley down to the door, and Calley opened it and let Sammy in.
“I really am thankful,” Calley said before she walked in.
“I know,” replied Violet. Calley thought she almost sounded weary. But before Calley could think about it anymore, Violet turned around and went back into the elevator. The last thing Calley saw before she closed the door was Violet’s cape billowing behind her, before Violet disappeared altogether.
I am a feather
waiting for the wind to come
and carry me home
Prologue
The brisk winter air made Calley regret ignoring her mother.
“Calley, make sure to put on a coat! It’s freezing out,” her mother had yelled from the other room.
“Yeah I will,” she replied, then quickly grabbed a sweatshirt and boots and hurried towards the elevator to go outside with her dog, assuming she’d only be out for a minute. Now, after five minutes of shivering and cold wind easily slicing through her too thin sweatshirt, Calley was thinking of her big, fluffy winter coat that she had refused to wear.
“Sammy, there’s no need to sniff the snow for five minutes. No matter how long you sniff it, it’s still going to be snow,” Calley said to Sam, her family’s golden retriever puppy that somehow became solely Calley’s responsibility to take care of. Unfortunately, this made her the only one who would take Sammy out for a potty break at ten pm in December.
Against Calley’s wishes, three minutes later Sam was still sniffing the snow, making loud and obnoxious snuffling noises the whole time. She looked at the streetlight that sat outside of her building. The light illuminated the snowflakes, falling gently when the wind would stop. Totally focused on the falling snow, her grip on the leash slackened, and she didn’t notice until the leash was yanked out of her hand and Sammy was yapping wildly. Calley heard his barking get farther away, and to her misery when she turned around he was making his way across the street. Calley started running, but came to an abrupt halt at the street curb. After dark, she was alone she was supposed to stay within the boundaries of the apartment building. But she couldn’t go inside without Sam, so with two quick glances on either side she was running across the empty to street towards him. He was in the alley across the street that was filled with garbage cans, barking at a scraggly looking cat sitting on top of a garbage can and hissing.
Calley grabbed his leash, and with a tug and a curt “shush,” Sam fell quiet. The cat had disappeared with Calley’s arrival.
“You probably woke up the whole neighborhood Sammy,” she whispered, “and you’re already in enough trouble with Mr. Baker as it is.” Calley glared at him as she spoke, but his soft brown eyes melted were too much for her. With a small smile, she petted his head and turned towards her building.
As she turned, a man walked by. He saw her standing in the alley and gave her a mischievous smile. “Hey babe, what’cha doing out on a night like this?” he asked, taking one step forward to the alley entrance.
Calley avoided his eyes and looked to the warm sanctuary that was front door of the building. She told him, “I’m going home.”
He took one step forward. “You sure about that?” Another step followed, and he was close enough for Calley to see him in the dim light. His brown hair was short and had that neat look of a recent haircut. A brown jacket and jeans made him look almost normal, but the way he was looking at Calley would have sent shivers down her spine if she wasn’t already shivering from the cold. He took one more step, and Calley could smell smoke on him.
Sammy started to bark again, but the man ignored him and reached out for Calley’s arm. Unable to move because she was shaking so violently, Calley’s only thought was, I’m 12 years old and I’m going to die, and most likely very very painfully. She heard the stories on the news, of kidnappings and rapes and murders, but the possibility of being killed less than 20 feet away from her front door had never occurred to her.
More thoughts rushed into her mind. If she didn’t die, would she have gathered up the courage to ask Dave to the spring dance? How many kids would she have, if she even found a husband at all! Would she and her sister ever finish a game of monopoly? And, most importantly, who was going to take care of Sammy when she was dead? Calley wondered if being dead was as confusing as being alive.
Suddenly, the street light went out. Calley gasped. Then, after a moment’s hesitation, she took advantage of the momentary darkness and ran from the alley, focusing on getting back into the building. But she forgot about the curb, and she tripped, tumbling out on to her back in the middle of the street. The sound of her panting was the only noise on the street, besides the jingle of Sammy’s collar as he ran over to her to give her a warm kiss on her cold cheek. That’s when the pain hit her. There was a sharp pain shooting down her ankle, and when she tried to stand up and put support on the foot she immediately collapsed back down on the icy street.
With a flicker, the street light came back on. Calley could see the alley again. There was someone else there, a shorter, darker figure that seemed to be beating up the man. With a kick to the chest, the man slammed into a garbage can. Calley tried to back up, but she didn’t look away. The man went in for a punch, but the shadow like figure dodged it and grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back. The man cried in pain, but the figure twisted him around and pushed him head first into the garbage can. He didn’t get up; he just lay in a heap, surrounded by garbage.
Calley drew in a sharp breath, realizing that she had been holding her breath the entire time. The figure looked at the man for a moment, and then turned towards Calley and walked towards her. Calley closed her eyes and held up her arm in front of her face for protection, but when she gathered the courage to open her eyes she saw that the figure was holding out their hand. Calley looked up to see who this stranger was.
It was a girl, older than Calley but no older than nineteen. She had on a dark cape, black boots and pants, and a deep purple shirt. Her hair was as dark as her boots and fell down to the middle of her back. The girl’s face was unmasked. Calley took in the girl’s tan skin, confused expression, and the darkest eyes that Calley had ever seen.
“Are you going to let me help you get up, or do you just want to lie in the street for the rest of the night?” the girl said.
Calley immediately recognized the girl when she spoke. She blurted out, “You’re Violet! You’re, you’re the superhero girl! You and, and the others-”
“Don’t hurt yourself even more, kid,” Violet interrupted. Calley took Violet’s hand, while Calley’s wide eyes trying to read Violet’s emotions the whole time. Violet managed to get Calley up on one foot, with one of Violet’s arms around Calley’s waist and one of Calley’s arms around Violet’s shoulders.
“You saved me,” Calley whispered as Violet led her across the street.
Violet laughed a little and said, “Yeah, that’s what I do.”
They hobbled up the steps, Sammy following at their feet, and made their way into the elevator.
“Did you kill him?” Calley asked after she hit the glowing “9” button.
“No, he’s just unconscious. I couldn’t just let him escape while I brought you back up here,” said Violet.
“Oh,” said Calley, and then she fell quiet until they reached her floor. The elevator pinged, and the door opened. “Thanks for all your help,” she said, and hopped out the door on her good foot. To her surprise, Violet came with her. Calley looked at her skeptically.
Violet rolled her eyes. “Bad things almost happened when you were 20 feet away from your door, who says they can’t happen from two feet away? Now, which one’s your apartment?”
Calley pointed a finger to the apartment two doors down from the elevator. “That one.”
Violet walked Calley down to the door, and Calley opened it and let Sammy in.
“I really am thankful,” Calley said before she walked in.
“I know,” replied Violet. Calley thought she almost sounded weary. But before Calley could think about it anymore, Violet turned around and went back into the elevator. The last thing Calley saw before she closed the door was Violet’s cape billowing behind her, before Violet disappeared altogether.
Mod
This is the prologue to a book I'm writing.The man is short and pale, though his eyes are black, and his hair is blond. In fact, the closer you look at his eyes, the more it appears as though they are all pupil and no iris. This is not uncommon for a man like him.
But more on that later.
He has an unmistakable scent, one that screams “Evil!”. I turn my head to try and escape the smell, only to get another whiff as he passes behind me, pale hands clasped behind his back. I look up from the bloodstained floor and see that he’s clutching a gun in his hands. I cock my head. It’s a small gun, and he’s doing a very good job of hiding it, though it’s still visible from this angle.
“You won’t kill me,” I whisper. The words roll off my tongue like a raindrop off a leaf.
“Oh really?” he replies.
I make eye contact with him, my gaze steady. “Yes,”
He knocks me in the temple with the gun. It makes a loud popping noise when it connects with my skull.
Silence. He lets out a sigh that most people wouldn’t be able to hear.
I recover quickly, regaining eye contact. “You could’ve shot me,”
“Shut up,” he snaps.
I stare at the blood running down my arms. “Why did you do it?”
“I said shut up!” the man booms. My ears ring.
“Why did you do it?” I repeat, throwing more power into my words. The man appears shocked, like he’s just realized that I have the power to speak above a whisper.
And now it’s his turn to remain quiet. “I did it because…” he trails off. “Because I love you. Because I did love you. While you were still… you.”
He looks at me. This is not the answer I had expected, and I’m pretty sure I’m blushing despite myself.
“Who are you?” I ask, my voice shaking. I can’t make eye contact: I’m staring at my bloody arms again.
“I’m afraid I can’t tell you that,”
“Tell me, or I’ll make you tell me,”
“No.”
When he says that, pure rage fills me inch by inch. And slowly, I feel the ropes that bind me to the chair loosen and suddenly I’m free. I don’t know how I did it.
All I know is I’m unbound and that the door is to my left.
This is the prologue in my new book: Deaths Conqueror. Enjoy!A smile curved the thin line that was Mort’s mouth, and he chuckled softly in his sleep. Today would be the day. His eyes opened, dark and empty, and he nodded to himself, standing. He was ready. It was time. With the darkness and heat suffocating him, he stumbled toward the chunk of black marble that had been made ready years before. It had been ready for this day, for he had known this day would come.
He chuckled again and ran thin, old fingers over its cool surface. He reached up to the top of his head and, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, dug his nail into its surface until he felt blood trickle down his hand. It was warm and steaming and black, and he kept digging his nail into his skull until he had enough to cup in his hand. He brought it to his mouth and breathed its rich scent in, before pouring it onto the marble. Mort smeared it over the entire surface, and felt the coolness of the black stone turn burning, like everything else there.
He hummed gently as he worked, his old face alive with eagerness and happiness. He bent down several times to kiss the marble and to say one name softly into its surface. “Sido.” He carefully traced the black of his blood into the form of a head, and then brought his hand to his arm and let one sharp, claw like nail tear into it until more blood flowed. He took this blood, deep scarlet, and made it into long, flowing hair off of the head. He then drew in a face and eyes, dark and harsh.
With a thoughtful look, he studied his drawing and then nodded in satisfaction. It was perfect. She was perfect. He closed his eyes and grinned. “Sido. My daughter.” Mort opened his eyes and saw flame engulf his drawing, the lines of his blood blazing and cutting into the stone. With hands trembling from excitement, he pressed three long nails into the leathery skin of his unwounded arm, feeling ripples of heat build up inside him. The blood of a god was a dark and powerful thing. Especially the blood of the god of death.
He forced his fingers into him, harder and deeper, as blood covered his knuckles and smeared his hands. He twitched his nails beneath his skin and drew out more blood, scraping his arm raw, before letting himself stop. He breathed deeply, once, before continuing, pouring the hot and red fluid on his arm into a cup, filling it to the brim.
He stumbled against the stone and rose the cup to his mouth, whispering tender words, before turning to the screams, coming from the marble chunk. The screams of a baby, high and wild. He grinned and cried out: “Sido!” The figure rose from the stone, hair long and wild, red as blood; eyes a merciless, cold black that gleamed beneath their frames of curling lashes; a full, crimson mouth that was twisted in a fearless and frightening smile; and bones of the harshest and sharpest structure. She rose from the stone and from the flames, grinning and laughing, before her laughter turned to the babyish screams, and before his eyes, she turned to an infant, tiny and white, with only the black eyes to show signs of what she would become.
He brought the cup over her body, and with a smile that could almost be called maternal, he poured his blood down upon her like a scarlet shower, drenching her pure, new body. The child of death was now born.
Juliet wrote: "That was very interesting, Cara. Did you post it on Goodreads?"
Yep, it's called "UnAnchored" I'm about to post the second chapter now actually
Yep, it's called "UnAnchored" I'm about to post the second chapter now actually
that is good! I wanna read more!
write moooooore!!!!!!! and no im not a cow i just want moooooooooore!! (hahaha so cheesy but thats me!) :P
aaaaaaaargh excuse me Aaaaaaaargh these capitals will be the death of me!!!!
aaaaaaaaaaaaall of it! well 8 chapters thats all uve written, right? (ya screw capitals)
kool write more tonight? ok? well i gtg ttyl!
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