Post by Ẅ ĭ ļ ð ŷ on Aug 30, 2009 21:13:51 GMT -5
UPDATE: Added chapter 5!! :3
Kk, so I wanted to post some of my book that I'm writing on here for yall to see. Seeing as at one point Owl wanted to see some of my book. xD So I oblige. With the prologue and chapters 1-4 (don't worry; the chapters are short). Please, please tell me what you think of it. I'm trying to get as many opinions as I can, so yeah.
This story is about a girl named Courtney Voss, and her whole, messed up story. If any of you have ever read Maximum Ride, it has elements from that book, as well as Twilight and a small amount of Pendragon. Just read and find out. :3
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Prologue;;
Chapter 1;;
Chapter 2;;
Chapter 3;;
Chapter 4;;
Chapter 5;;
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THIS STORY IS COPYRIGHTED TO ME. DO NOT STEAL, OR ELSE I WILL HUNT YOU DOWN AND STAB YOU WILL A VERY GREASY, VERY HOT FRENCH FRY. AND YOU DO NOT WANT THAT. >:C
Kk, so I wanted to post some of my book that I'm writing on here for yall to see. Seeing as at one point Owl wanted to see some of my book. xD So I oblige. With the prologue and chapters 1-4 (don't worry; the chapters are short). Please, please tell me what you think of it. I'm trying to get as many opinions as I can, so yeah.
This story is about a girl named Courtney Voss, and her whole, messed up story. If any of you have ever read Maximum Ride, it has elements from that book, as well as Twilight and a small amount of Pendragon. Just read and find out. :3
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Prologue;;
I’ve never really given much thought to how I would like to die.
To tell you the truth, I never really thought much about death in general. Many people say there’s life after death or something, yada yada. I never really cared. That is, until I was actually faced with a situation that I knew there would be no escape from.
As I stared into the cruel, expressionless yellow eyes of the SuperTracer, I actually saw my life flashing before my eyes.
For a brief second I thought about how cliché this was. Then I was sucked back in time. I saw everything in my life, every minute detail that I thought I had forgotten, but now I remembered with perfect clarity. I saw every mistake I made, every bad decision I should have corrected. I saw all the fun times, all the hard times. I saw all of my friends, my brain whipping through pictures of their faces so fast I could hardly keep up. Rei, Jaxon, Alex, Sonya and Tanya, Seth…. In that instant I knew the hardest part about dying was going to be loosing them… and letting them down.
I realized after my two-second flashback that I was crying. Tears ran silently down my cheeks, and I had to blink to clear my vision. As I watched, the werewolf-on-steroids crouched back on its haunches, preparing to pounce. He lifted his lips over his four inch fangs and grinned at me. Rage suddenly blazed in my chest, and I turned to the side in an offensive stance, determined to take as much of him with me as I could. I snarled, and felt venom flow into my mouth as I imagined sinking my teeth into his flesh.
The SuperTracer tensed and sprang. The battle for my life was on.
Chapter 1;;
I’ve always been a bit on the different side.
I mean, hey, I certainly didn’t choose to, but some things are just funny that way. Like, why does everything horrible and deranged always happen to me? What did I do to be on the Big Man’s hit list?
Whatever. Some things you just can’t change.
Take me, for example. I said I’ve never been normal and, hey, guess why? Nah, I doubt you could guess it if you tried. I’ll just tell you.
I’m not human. At least, not entirely. I’m a nonhuman, half-human, whatever it’s called. Need more explanation? Alrighty then.
Imagine, if you can, a world not entirely what you think it is. It looks completely normal on the surface, but once you delve into its deepest secrets, you really wished you hadn’t. Like the fact that humans aren’t living entirely alone on their planet. Yep, while the big governmental clowns are all looking around the universe for intelligent life forms there are ‘species’ just like that right under their smug, misinformed little noses. Funny how things like that happen all the time.
By now you’ve probably guessed it. I’m one of those ‘species’ living with all of the other mundane humans going about their daily lives, not knowing about ‘us.’ I, in fact, am a Half-Fox. Kinda self explanatory if you ask me. I am a girl, but I’m also half fox. Like, when I get pissed off enough I can sprout fox ears and a tail. Freaky, no? It’s kinda cool sometimes if you ask me. ‘Cause, along with all the cool foxy features, I get super strength and speed, super good hearing, and, like, ace reflexes. But it also... ah… can cause complications. Like, the fact that I can’t even tell my best friend about it for fear that he’ll run away screaming, and I’ll get hauled off to the funny farm.
But I digress.
So, now that you know, you should probably read my whole story. I must admit, it’s a little bit on the surreal, supernatural side. But hey; the truth is the truth. My story is probably just one strange, lopsided narrative among many. However, if you read through it, you may find some answers you didn’t know you were looking for.
And so we go.
Chapter 2;;
My humble tale of misadventure and excitement begins when I was seventeen. But first, before we really get into things, you need a bit of history.
At the age of seventeen, I was living on my own. I have lived by myself since the day I turned sixteen, and was able to escape from that stupid orphan shelter. You see, when I was five years old, my mother died in an accident. I don’t remember her very well. You ask about my father? I never knew him. Mom never told me anything about him either. I remember asking her one time, but she just changed the subject without answering the question. I assumed that he was one of those no good, runaway types. That’s still all I see in him today. But after mom died, there were no relatives or family friends to take me in. I was taken to an orphan shelter, and was raised there. It wasn’t a bad place; the people were nice and it was well kept and all, but it wasn’t where I wanted to be. The moment I was old enough, I moved out.
I got an apartment in town with some of the money I had. When mom died, she left me quite a bit of funds; courtesy of her being a doctor, thank you very much. So there wasn’t much concern about money. I was pretty much set. After I got a place to live, I started working and going to the local public school. I was able to live on my own, the way I always wanted.
You’re probably wondering about my whole ‘nonhuman’ monkey wrench. Well, ever since I was three I was able to phase between my human and nonhuman forms. My mom knew about it, but she was the only one. We were able to keep it on the down-low, which was probably for the best. I had no idea if there were others like me in the world, or if I was all alone in my monstrosity. But when mom died, I was the only one to carry my personal secret. I never told anyone else; not the nice people at the orphanage, or anyone at my school. It was my secret. Lucky for me, it was a secret that I could keep while still being able to do regular, human things like, say, going to school. As long as I didn’t spontaneously phase in front of my classmates, my secret was safe.
So there you go. Now you’ve had the short, fascinating history of the messed up life of Courtney Voss. Courtesy of Courtney Voss.
And now, my story begins. Fasten your seat belts, folks.
Chapter 3;;
It was a dreary, cold sort of night for summer. The cold was almost frustrating; after sweltering in eighty-two degree weather for the whole day, one would expect that the night air would at least be a tad bit above freezing. That did not seem to be the case however. Grumbling to myself, I stuffed my hands deeper into the pockets of my hoodie. I hated the cold; I was way too sensitive to it. For me, winter was nearly intolerable.
It was probably around ten at night. I was walking home on my way from work (I had the late shift), along the streets of a quiet, deserted suburb not far from my apartment. Though it was late, it was still quite bright outside. The moon was full; the pale, silvery light from the disk in the sky threw long, dark moonshadows across the streets. The only other light came from the occasional glowing square that was someone’s window. It was quiet, and almost peaceful.
Key word there being ‘almost.’
Frustrated from the cold and in a hurry to get back to my apartment (I had a paper due the next day; curse you, English class), I turned off of the main road into a side alley swathed in shadows. Without a second look, I hurried down the narrow space.
Before I even got two steps, I noticed that the hair on the back of my neck was standing up straight and that the muscles along my arms and neck were tensing instinctively. Immediately uneasy, I casually brushed back the hood of my sweatshirt so that I could hear better. I widened my eyes, trying to see into the inky shadows. But despite my unease, I kept waking, casually and inconspicuously, down the alley. It could just be a cat, or a stray dog… it was probably nothing to worry about. Just my skittishness getting the better of me.
But of course that wasn’t the case.
Because it’s never that easy, right?
Halfway down the alley, my sensitive ears suddenly picked up the light, brushing sound of cloth against the ground, and the slightly louder sound of casual footsteps. In the pockets of my hoodie, my hands balled into fists. Stalker? Rapist? Serial killer? Whatever the case, I was not in the mood to deal with anyone of the sort. I would run for it.
I was coming up to a sharp left turn in the stone alleyway. Quickening my footsteps, I swiftly approached the corner. The stranger’s footsteps accelerated to keep up with me. Already not in the best spirits tonight, this subtle thing sent a flare of rage alight in my chest. Really PO’d now, I reached the corner and spun on my heel to face the guy, a snarl distorting my face. My hands were now balled into fists at my sides, and my feet were spread apart in a ready fighting stance. “What the hell do you want?” I snarled before even completing my 180.
There he was, halted halfway down the alley. He was a large man, looking to be about six foot or more, with thick torso and huge arms wrapped with heavy bands of muscle. He was wearing a black cloak, befitting of a legit stalker, with the hood pulled up over his head so that I couldn’t see his face. I glared at him anyway, not intimidated by his appearance. Even if he was a pro wrestler, I could still kick his arse so bad that he’d have to reach up to tie his shoes. Bring it on, you creeper. I thought at him, flexing my fingers eagerly.
And then he threw back his hood, exposing his face.
Despite myself, I felt a shiver of fear crawl down my spine and settle somewhere in the pit of my stomach, making me shudder convulsively. My gaze stayed frozen on the man’s face. His eyes bored into mine. The creepy thing about it? His eyes were a hungry, poisonous shade of yellow. They stared at me, as if just by sheer willpower he could make me burst into flames. He looked like the type that, if that did happen, he would happily dance around the flaming corpse. Despite the utter creepiness of his eyes, he looked almost normal. By my judgment, he looked maybe in his mid-twenties. His dark brown hair was cropped short, with unshaven stubble covering his face and cheeks. I’m not gonna lie; he looked a bit on the scruffy side. More like a hobo than a stalker.
And then, as I scrutinized his face, he slowly grinned a wide, totally creep-tastic grin, his eyes alight with a half crazy, half starved fire. The real shocker here?
He had fangs.
That’s when I started to get a really bad feeling in the pit of my stomach.
Chapter 4;;
I felt the blood drain from my face. I stared at him in horror, too shocked to speak. Fangs? How was that even possible? It wasn’t possible, not unless… but I could hardly think the thought. It was outrageous.
Taking advantage of my shocked and frozen silence, he took a step towards me, his eyes growing hungrier. I was unable to move my limbs. I stared at him, doing my deer-in-the-headlights impression. He grinned wider, exposing all of his teeth. “Hello.” He purred. His voice was wild, feral. “Do you know who I am, girl?”
Normally, I have all sorts of witty comebacks for such remarks stored in my brain for moments like this. Now, however, I found myself unable to find them. I floundered around in my brain, trying to remember how to speak. “Ummm, a serial killer escaped from the insane asylum down the street?” I suggested, the sarcasm totally marred by my weak voice.
He didn’t laugh, but that creepy grin stayed in place. He advanced another step. He was now less than five yards away. The starved, hungry look blazed in his yellow eyes again. “I am your worst enemy.” He said, his voice rougher, harsher. “I’m your killer, Courtney Voss. Tonight you die. You cannot escape me. Now die!” He roared this last word and surged towards me, his face twisted into a snarl as he bared his fangs. I barely had time to react.
And then, not ten feet from me, he exploded out of his skin.
Instantly, I felt adrenaline burn through my veins, searing away my drunken shock. In a blur of motion, I crouched and dived down the curve in the alley, out of the way of the giant, dark shape that lunged for me. In less than a second, I phased into my nonhuman form, feeling a tail and ears sprout out of my skin. Whirling around with hands raised in front of me like claws, I tried frantically to figure out what had happened.
There in the alley, where I had been standing moments before, a huge dark brown monster crouched, baring its four-inch fangs at me in a guttural snarl. To say it was a wolf would be like saying a Clydesdale was a cute little Shetland pony. I mean, this thing was massive. Its shoulder must have been at least five feet tall. It pulled its lips back over its dagger-like fangs, a low growl slipping from in between its teeth. There was only one thing about it that helped me make the connection to the dark man in the alley moments before. Yeah, you guessed it. The eyes. They were the same starved, piercing shade of poisonous yellow as before.
I had no idea what to think.
Before I could fully process everything, the wolf lunged at me again, quicker than I would have expected of something that size. Thanks to my super-quick reflexes however, I was able to spring nimbly away, landing on top of a trashcan farther down the alley. I lashed my tail angrily, snarling at the giant brute as my ears pressed flat against my skull. Before he had a chance to leap at me again, I took off down the alley, running faster than any normal human. I could hear his heavy paws thudding against the cement as the wolf pursued me.
I suddenly skidded to a stop, looking around frantically. I was in a large, old fashioned stone courtyard, with deserted brick buildings ringing me in on all sides. Except, of course, behind me where there was a bloodthirsty wolf-man out to kill me. How pleasant. I felt a flash of chagrin. Why did it always have to be me?
No time for spacing out. He was almost on me. Without thinking, I leaped towards the other side of the courtyard, right up onto the wall. I clung to a small ledge for a fraction of a second, glancing behind me to see the wolf at the center of the courtyard, crouching to spring up at me. With a powerful push from my superhuman legs, I flipped around and came down right on top of the surprised wolf-man. Building up as much strength as I had, I spun in a powerful roundhouse kick, nailing the wolf in his heavy, barrel chest. I heard the air whoosh from his lungs as my kick sent him crashing into the face of a crumbling stone building. He slumped on the ground for a second, and then he sprang to his paws, glaring balefully at me as he regained his breath. “You can make this easy or you can make this hard, girl.” He spat at me. I was startled. He could talk as a wolf, too?
He surged towards me again, almost catching me off guard as I was lost in my reverie. I spun quickly away from him, his lethal teeth inches from missing me. But though they missed my flesh, they sliced through the fabric of my hoodie like a hot knife through butter.
That did it.
I snapped. That was my favorite sweater, and he had just shredded it. My hands balled into fists again, and a horrible snarl ripped from my throat. “You. Ripped. My. Sweater!” I shrieked at him, my voice shooting though a couple octaves. My eyes blazed with rage, and I pounced. Before he had a chance to turn around, I was all over him.
My fist crashed into the side of his furry head, snapping his head around. A fraction of a second later and my other fist connected solidly with his shoulder, making him stumble back. I aimed a fierce kick at his ribs, and felt grim satisfaction when I heard what might have been the sound of a cracking rib. I pounded him mercilessly, making him cower under all of the blows I was raining on him.
Finally, I leaped back until I was four feet from him and where he lay, gasping and wheezing on the ground. My fists were still raised in front of me. “Had enough?” I asked, my voice deadly.
Suddenly, the wolf in front of me shifted and was replaced by the man from before, kneeling on the ground and glaring up at me with hate-filled yellow eyes. I must admit, he definitely looked worse for wear. One of his eyes was blackened, and his bottom lip was split. I felt a tiny bit smug. Who’s the kick-arse fighter who just beat the crap out of a wolf-man? I was. Oh yeah, baby. “Don’t think this is over, freak.” He spat at me, dabbing at his lip with the back of his hand. He struggled to his feet, backing away towards the alley. He bared his fangs at me, eyes glaring. “We will come back for you. And if I were you, I’d run. There are many of us, Courtney Voss. Many more than you can imagine. Don’t think that my master won’t send more assassins after you just because you beat one of us. You will soon die.” He promised, that creepy grin of his reappearing. “Keep a sharp eye. The hounds of hell will be on your trail. You’ll be begging for death once we catch up with you.”
And then he was gone, ghosting off down the alley at an inhuman pace. Two seconds later, and he disappeared.
Chapter 5;;
I stood there, completely paralyzed, for a full minute while I mentally tried to catch up with what the hell just happened. I was pretty sure that I actually stopped thinking about one-tenth of a second after Mr. Creepy exploded into a giant-freaking-wolf.
In my mind, I went over every detail of the encounter, right from the second things started getting hinky. I could remember every single thing that happened with poignant clarity. Carefully, I reviewed everything again, going over it again as if it was in slow motion.
By the end of my assessment, I had concluded that this was utterly, absolutely, completely nuts.
Y’know that sort of cry-or-scream feeling you get when you’re looking at a super hard homework assignment at ten o’clock at night, wondering how the heck you were going to do it all before school tomorrow, and looking forward to one of those long, sleepless nights? Well, that’s about how it was for me right now. But, like, on crack. Right then, I wished with every fiber of my non-human being that I could run in frantic circles and scream “What in the HELL?” At the top of my lungs.
But I couldn’t. So I didn’t.
Instead, I started running as fast as I could for my apartment.
As I frantically sprinted through the side streets, once again human, my mind kicked into overdrive. I could hardly decipher my own thoughts because I was thinking so fast. This, children, is what happens when your whole freaking world gets turned upside down. Pray it doesn’t happen to you. After about five seconds, I had my priorities in order. Number one: I could not stay here. I winced as the wolf-man’s last words echoed in my head, ringing with sincere, deadly finality: You’ll be begging for death by the time we catch up with you. No. I could not stay. If I did, I would certainly die, not to mention I would be putting all of my friends in danger.
Number two: I could not tell anyone what had happened here. I would be sent to the insane ward for sure. I could just imagine it in my head: “No, really, I actually did get attacked by a mutant werewolf man. But I was able to fight him off. Oh, and didn’t I tell you? I’m a mutant fox girl.” Yeah, no. I’d rather not cross that particular minefield unless I absolutely had to.
Number three: I could never come back until I was able to figure out some way to stop this madness. I felt a pang of absolute sorrow and depression at that thought, so strong that I nearly lost my stride. More likely than not, I would never get so see my friends again. I wouldn’t even be able to say goodbye. Another wave of crippling loneliness threatened to engulf me. I could no longer be associated with anyone. I was truly an outcast.
By this time, I was almost back to my apartment. My lungs felt like they were about to explode, but that was of minimal concern to me now. I had to be fast. Get in, get out. No time for hanging around reminiscing. Who knows how fast the wolf-man was able to relay his failure to his partners, and how fast they could come after me. I sprinted up the stairs to the second floor, and dashed down to my door. Digging my house key out of the pocket of my ruined sweater, I hastily unlocked the door to my apartment, practically fell inside, and then locked the door behind me.
I spun around, doing a quick reconnaissance. Good. No signs of anyone being in here since I last came home. Immediately flying into action, I rushed to my room, tearing off my shredded sweater on my way. Quickly, I changed into a more sturdy pair of blue jeans and a dark gray t-shirt, ripping a new, un-shredded brown hoodie from my drawer and pulling it over my head. Spur of the moment, I decided not to take anything with me, except for maybe a couple hundred bucks for necessities. If I absolutely had to, I could steal from places. Not the best avenue of survival I know, but carrying stuff with me would just slow me down. I tried not to think about the thought that I wouldn’t have a toothbrush or a fresh change of clothes for who knows how long.
I tripped back to my living room, thinking in a rush again. I was not going to take a cell phone or anything with me. That would be pointless; who would I call? No, I’d have to cut off communications from everyone. Wherever I was going to be, I wasn’t going to let anyone know my whereabouts. Not a smart idea, what with being on some killer’s hit list.
And then, suddenly, another strange-but-brilliant-in-a-stupid-what-the-hell-were-you-thinking-kind-of-way thought came to my head. I rushed back to my room.
I ripped open the doors of my closet, my eyes raking the dark space. Up on a corner shelf was a small, unmarked, beat up cardboard box. I reached up and yanked it off the shelf, and its full weight landed on my arms. Oof. It was heavier than I remember. I stumbled over to my bed and plopped it on the covers, ripping the sealing away effortlessly and tearing the lid off.
Inside were papers, pictures, and other paraphernalia. I dug through them, to the very bottom, until I resurfaced with a nondescript manila folder clutched in one hand. I rifled through its contents, my eyes quickly scanning the small type. I had hoped I would never have to look at most of this stuff. This was all the information that my mother had kept regarding my father. The man who left my mother before I was ever born. I had had the thought that, maybe, if I was going to be homeless and wandering anyway, I could try and find him. I had no idea what I would do if I actually found him though, since I don’t think things through that far. Probably tell him he was a no good, noncommittal looser or something.
Finally, close to the end of the folder, I found a promising page. It was page about his work or something. Apparently he was a scientist of some sort. I snorted to myself. Scientist my left foot. He was just a retarded sleaze-ball as far as I was concerned. Ah! But there. An address. It was for a lab where he used to work. I stared at it. The address was in Miami. Hm. I folded the paper and shoved it in my pocket. That was better than nothing. Now at least I had somewhere to start.
I glanced at the clock on my bedside table. It had been nearly fifteen minutes since my encounter with my fun little werewolf friend. I would have to leave within the next few minutes if I was to be sure. I started back towards the living room.
And then another annoying thought paralyzed me again, but this time in grief.
Jaxon Reid. My best friend. Why was I suddenly seized with the wild desire to say one last farewell to him? I bit my lip. I knew that wasn’t smart. It would take up more of my limited time. I threw a tortured look at the clock again. I had a few minutes, tops. If I was going to say anything to him, I would have to write it in a letter. Resigned in exasperation, I hunted up a pen and a sheet of paper. If I just left it here, he would find it eventually. Once he couldn’t contact me for a while, he would come to my apartment. He had a key. He could get in. I sighed. I at least owed him some sort of explanation for why things are the way they are. I started to write.
Jaxon,
I’m so sorry. If you’re reading this, you’ve probably figure out that something is not right. Well, yeah. I had to leave. Something urgent has come up. I can’t really tell you what about, in case this gets into the wrong hands, but know that I left for your own good. If I’d stayed, you might have been killed already. I know, I know, don’t be alarmed. I’m pretty sure you’re safe, since I left. At least I hope so.
I so wish I could have said goodbye in person, but this is all I have time for. I’m sorry. Most likely scenario is, I won’t be able to ever contact you again until I can figure out what’s going on. Just be glad that you’re not all mixed up in this too. And please, try not to worry too much about me.
Again, I’m so sorry. You’ll always be my best friend.
I’ll miss you.
~ Courtney V.
I stubbornly fought back tears as I carefully folded the letter and stuck it in an envelope. I wrote ‘Jaxon’ on the outside, and then placed it on the kitchen counter, where he would see it if he came in. And then, with one last fleeting look around my tiny apartment, I strode out the front door, locking it behind me, and hurried off with nothing but the clothes on my back, the small rectangle of folded paper in my pocket, and approximately 218 bucks in hard cash.
I was never going to be able to come back.
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THIS STORY IS COPYRIGHTED TO ME. DO NOT STEAL, OR ELSE I WILL HUNT YOU DOWN AND STAB YOU WILL A VERY GREASY, VERY HOT FRENCH FRY. AND YOU DO NOT WANT THAT. >:C
