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Hmm.....don't know what to write about.....
lol, well the pics just to inspire you, you don't actually have to write about the moon or anything.
Okay, I think I've got an idea. I'll see how it turns out, once I get a chance to work on it more. ^^
Mod
Mod
by: Arthur
Word Count: 643
notes: I intend to add the remaining as I go along, and am able to write it. I'll add it chapter by chapter.
.......................
Chapter One
The Leaves of Spring
In warmer climates the St. Lawrence Wetlands had been getting people throughout the summers on the river attracting them to cooler lake shores. Now the frozen surface of the lake had been cold and dry and covered mostly of ice.
The coming warm weather helped thaw thick layers of ice and soon it will become officially the Spring. It had come in the day and winter returning for the night. Donald Westlake had been working for the U.S. military biology sector. He was a matured man who was quiet and innovative and had peacefulness stamped on him. He was a veteran of marine science biology. He had never been taken over on a tour of duty while in service. His carrier was bioscience and he was checking water reserve in restrict water areas lying in many of the northern hemisphere reserves found in many nature parks. His keen knowledge of being aware and protective and his traveling widely was well respected for his attributing to the welfare of the canals and water systems.
Richard Stark a colleague in the same field was a tall dark skinned younger looking man with his hair thinning and graying. He had been thinking of the statistics of the city bay water area in Toronto. Richard has been resident teacher on the campus for marine biology at the University of Toronto for ten years. He was analyzing some older data he found from a library while he was wearing his reading glasses that reflected the monitor of a laptop he held with one arm in his office. He sulked when hearing his cell ring for the three vibrant beeps, he then picked it up. On his other end he could hear from Donald a huffing snort.
Donald said, “There are even more people pulling into the area. It’s making a strange place to be, you need to see this!”
“I can’t afford to come. I’ve got to get some more test results. But so far I don’t think it’s only the surroundings.” He set the laptop on an end table next to his chair and sat. He removed his eye glasses and crunched under his chin the cell phone as he used his free hands to sterilize the glass lenses with a cleaner.
Later that night in Ottawa in a restaurant during after hours sat three men goading about their past adventures while drinking. It was becoming late and a few rushed past to get in for the happy hour. The Ottawa had become cold and everyone one in the city had to be somewhere
Edwin Westlake sat down his last coffee cup with a grin on his mouth. He had heard Tucker Coe’s story of Indians before but tonight it had some enormous charge of charm. He leaned back and took his coat. Standing up put on his hat and said, “Well men, I am retiring, so hope to see you tomorrow. I can’t stand these late night liaisons anymore. I’ve got to get out of this dreadful noise. Tuck I hope you find an artist to paint your stories.” He chuckled and then stopped too flip out his cell phone that had three vibrant beeps.
Samuel Holt, the third man resting at the table pulled out his cell to check if he missed messages. He had none, except one less important from his mother. He had not called her yet this week surely that would be it.
Edwin sat back down and cleared his throat. “Tuck you ever notice anything strange in the Valley area in the air?” he asked.
“Not really. Mars is phenomenally close. The moon maybe too. My old professor would be the one to say that when the moon is this close it wants something.”
The men chuckled. Then they gathered coats and stood to leave.
Name: Werewolf Warriors ~ Part 1Word count: 1,356
Notes: Here’s the first part of the monthly story I’m working on! I know it doesn’t have too much to do with the moon, but the picture somehow managed to inspire it XD... I’ll post more when I get time to write it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
“Good afternoon, Miss. Laskia. How are doing today?”
I sighed inwardly and said, “Really, call me Victoria.” I didn’t like my full first name either, but it was better than all formalish with everyone calling me ‘Miss Laskia’ left and right, like I usually had to put up with. Besides, I had my doubts that Captain Bareon was going to start calling me Viki.
“Whatever you say, Miss. Victoria.”
I groaned inwardly.
“Now,” the Captain continued, “You can expect to be with your uncle before the day is out. Estimate arrival will be 5:40,” he led me to the small scale hovercraft as he spoke, “You will, of course, be conducted in the safest manner. We will be taking the safest route possible, and I assure you, you will reach your uncle safely.”
Safely, safest, safe... Groan. “Yes, yes of course,” I said, barely paying attention. I got this speech every time I traveled. I supposed they wanted to keep me at ease, but really, it was ridiculous. After all, how could they be sure to have a safe route if there was no such thing? In this war-torn world, there was only good planning, and good luck. It needed a good planning to find a path where no rebel, revolutionists, religious extremists, and all the rest were just waiting to blow you up. Yes, it took great planning to find that gap in which to get from one end of the country to the other without getting blown to pieces, and then, of course, it took luck to keep it that way for the entire flight. Not entirely likely, but so far I’d had good luck, the few times I’ve had to make long distance travels. After all, I wasn’t dead.
Personally, I found it all annoying. My uncle sent me away and requested my presence every other month it seemed. He’d rarely sent me so far though. Sometimes I wondered about my uncle’s mood swings. They swiveled around at almost a dangerous speed. If I had my choice, I would have gone over seas long ago, even though life was hardly better in Europe than it was in the United States (not that the states were actually ‘United’ anymore), but at least I wouldn’t be in the whole ‘constant danger’ situation I was in now. Because not only was William Laskia my uncle and legal guardian since my parents had died, he was also the President, and had been for nearly eight years. Not that he had any power over any of the crazy rebels. They all hated him, and his army. All the revolutionary groups that made up the chaotic land that was once peaceful all rejected his claim to power. I suppose I didn’t really blame them. My uncle had partly won the election with his good looks, and used his money to boost himself up the rest of the way. He was, by no means, a leader. But that seemed no reason to constantly try to assassinate him and all those connected with him. Well at least I thought so. But oh well... For the past eight years, out of my current seventeen, it had been the same. I was still alive, and by this time I was used to it at least. So I hardly gave a second thought to climbing into that hovercraft.
The Captain showed me to my lush seat and showed me where all the virtual gaming devices, holograph vids, and hologram books were, and then went to the pilot’s seat. The craft was soon in the air and gliding at high speeds to my uncle’s palace-like estate. I ignored all the childish activates and fell asleep. Though I would seem to be pampered and weak, being related so closely to the president, I took pride in working. When I was with my uncle, I put up with the soft treatment, but when he sent me away I made sure to do my part in helping out. What was the point of being treated like a princess? In this day and age, in this chaotic warring world, it was necessary to do your part. It was just annoying, in my mind, to be treated better than everyone else. So restricting and ridiculous.
I usually volunteered for sick duty because that area always needed the most help. One of the advantages of having one of the richest men in the world as my guardian was that I always receive the newest vaccines, so I was in less danger to all the new viruses and plagues than most people. I administered basic medical care to those who wouldn’t be admitted into the hospital because of what group they belonged to, or because the hospital was full. And it wasn’t just people with sickness who flocked to the hospital doors, but a great part of the people who came staggering in were the ones wounded in the constant battling. It was depressing work, but it made me happy that I was helping.
So I was nearly almost always tired. It was always a great pleasure for a few extra hours to spend sleeping. Plus my uncle would no doubt wonder at the bags under my eyes. I was asleep within minutes.
I woke up to a jolt of the high-flying hovercraft. I blinked blearily in the dim light. The light system, sensing my even breathing, had assumed me asleep and dimed the lights accordingly. I clapped my hands to get them brighter, but they stayed darkened. The hovercraft was curiously descending, though at a glance I saw that it was only 3:35. I reached for the two-way intercom and pressed the button.
“Captain, is something wrong?” I asked, not especially worried. They probably just had to stop for a fuel up.
“Miss Laskia, please remain calm. We have everything under control,” replied the Captain a hurried voice.
There was a crash as something hit the left stub-like wing of the hovercraft. I started to worry.
“Captain Bareon, is this aircraft under attack?” I asked in a commanding voice.
“There is no reason to panic, we will sort this out immediately,” the Captain replied, though I could sense a hint of panic in his own voice. There was another crash and the intercom started to fuzz with static. The lights went off and I could feel the high-flying aircraft start to descend more rapidly.
“Emergency lights, ON!” I yelled, panicking in full now. The blue crisis lights flipped on and I reached for the emergency air-safety pack under my seat. I strapped it to my back and tried to remember one of my memorized prayers, but couldn’t. Instead, I just screamed, “GOD, PLEASE LET ME LIVE!” over the roar of the crashing hovercraft. I opened the emergency door and jumped.
For a moment the world seemed to slow to a stop, all I could see was blue. For an instant, my mind went blank except for the thought, blue? Is that actually the sky? Where’s the smog?, but it was soon forced out of my head as I turned around in the air and saw the ground rushing up to meet me. I punched the release button on my back, and a parachute-like think thrust out of the pack, only it was made with airtight plastic, to slow the decent even more. For a second, I thought I’d completely stopped, but then I saw the hovercraft crash into the ground with an enormous explosion slightly to the right of me, and the world came crashing back in on me. My decent was slowed considerably, but I was afraid that I may have pushed the release button too soon. There wasn’t enough air time to slow down completely. I was too scared even to scream. I squeezed my eyes shut and curled in the best crashing position that I could. I said a prayer, but before I could finish I hit the ground. There was a horrible pain, and the world went red. Before the haze could fade completely, blackness took over, and I was falling into a pit of darkness.
Name: Werewolf Warriors ~ Part 2Word count: 685
Notes: I’m starting to really like this story : D
* * * * * * * *
When I awoke, everything was dark. There was a pounding pain battering my whole body. I was face first on the ground, dirt shoved up against my face. I managed to drag myself onto my back, but it sent so much pain through me that I nearly lost consciousness again. I shut my eyes trying to calm the dizziness. After a few moments I managed to open my eyes. I gazed up at the sky in amazement. Stars glittered up in the heavens, winking with their brilliant white fire. Even more shocking was the enormous, strangely clear view of the moon. It was a full moon, and was so unimaginably beautiful and large it seemed as if I could simply reach out and touch it. The lack of smog was incredible and nearly impossible. I must have really crashed in the middle of nowhere to get skies this clear. I knew I should be worried because being so far away from a city would mean a longer time to be rescued, but I was too fascinated with the moon to care at the moment. I’d never seen anything like this before. It was so...so wonderful.
Eventually my body finally decided that it was too worn out to continue this awakened state, and I fell back into a fitful, painful sleep.
I woke to something making noise over to the right of me. I squeezed my eyes shut tightly and prayed that it wasn’t a scavenging animal that could hurt me. I finally got the courage to open my eyes and found myself staring at the being next to me, my jaw open in shock. It wasn’t an animal. Well, not really. Technically, it was human, but...well... he wasn’t really a human either, in a way.
His hair was in long braids and tangles, and his face was smeared with messy tribal tattoos. His chest was bare, and the rest of him looked like he’d come straight out of history book of the ancient Indians. Beat up leather moccasins included.
He stared at me with a vicious hatred, observing me as I lay, injured, on the ground. He was of the Axsentaks tribe, I was fairly sure. Tribes had begun to come into being years and years ago, at the beginning of the downfall of the industrial world. Axsentaks had been one of the first to form, and this man looked as if he had absolutely no amount of civility about it at all. He was still young enough that he could have possibly even been born into one of the older tribes. He cocked his head sideways for a moment and muttered something in a grunted language that was mixture of English and unintelligent grunts.
Then, abruptly he jumped forward practically on top of me. I was too shocked to move, though I wouldn’t have gotten far in my state. I cringed as the barbarian man nearly sat on me to keep me down. He took out a dark-like object from his pack, and I tried shove away from him when I saw the red band that ringed the top of it. I could see the green venom-look serum through the clear plasti-glass casing. I was sure it was Rostolor poison, a popular, fast acting, lethal posion. He shoved the tip brutally into my left arm without a second’s hesitation and laughed stupidly when I uttered a small gasping cry. I could only look at him in horror. I couldn’t believe after everything I’d been through, I was going to die at the hands of an uneducated savage crazy. I could only choke out another gasp/cry.
Then there was a flash of black. It barreled into the savage, and they went rolling onto the ground over to my left. I was having a hard time concentrating because I could feel the effects of the poison already beginning. It was a tingling numbing sensation traveling up my arm, followed by a sharp pain, traveling at a slower rate. I heard an involuntary cry escape my lips.
I could hear grunts over to my left, but in seconds it was over. Before I could discern what was happening, there was a person bending over me.
Great story so far Arthur. It's like 24...Or what I think 24 would be like if I wasn't so busy watching cartoons.Clare! I love the scifi, it's been a while since I've read any. You've got a great style, it's very smart.
Also...
"He took out a dark-like object from his pack, and I tried to scoot away when I saw the red band ringing the top."
I know I'm immature but that sounded dirty so...LOL
I hope short story for this one can be a oneshot because I just finished a story that I've been working on for (an eternity) a few months so a oneshot is all I'm in the mood for...
I didn't know what to write so I wanted to try something different.
I'm Going To The Moon
I’m going to the moon and I’m going to meet God.
If God isn’t on the moon, I’ll try to find him when I have more time.
It’s late now, almost midnight, so my family is asleep. No one hears me get out of bed, not even my little sister. She’s got great hearing too because she has cat ears. She wanted them for Christmas and my parents got them for her.
I wanted to feel joy again but they got me indignant outrage.
I played with a little but got bored pretty quickly. My sister borrowed it when a boy she liked called her names and broke the outrage. I wasn’t mad, I just felt indignant.
The moon is far away but tonight it’s full, so it’s hanging lower. I still need a way to get up there and it’ll take me a while. It’s above my roof. Above my neighbors trees. Above the incessant scratching noise I hear when I close my eyes.
I’ve figured out how to build a ladder though, so far it isn’t very tall but it’ll grow. It’s made out of bones from those new mice that can regenerate now that scenists have sliced their genes with lizards. I got one from my father’s work. He’s a scientist. He’s never cried. He flips through Googled image searches of burn victims while he touches himself. The bones will grow into new rungs of the ladder as long as I feed them cheese. I have as much as I can carry but there will be more on the moon.
I’m pretty high now and I can’t see my house. I can’t see the city. I can’t see my future. I passed it by about five rungs ago and it told me to be careful who I trust with my heart and that I should start using my left hand more often.
I’m at the moon now. There is a little girl here and she is holding something close to her body.
“Hello.” I say to her and she smiles at me. “What are you doing?”
“I want to go to Earth,” She tells me, “So I’m gathering the dreams of children and holding them tightly. Soon enough they will get heavy and I’ll fall with them. Do you want to come with me? I’m going to meet God.”
I don’t want to go back just yet and I’m having too much fun to meet God, so I tell her yes but secretly hope for the world to end and as it does, I grab her arm and we both float to Mars.
LOL!!!!!! that was totally RANDOM!! LOVE IT!!!! hahahahaha awesome....
Clare, you are my new favorite person.
lol! awesome XD.... hey, are u my friend yet? lol can't keep track these days!
Not yet, but I'm pretty sure we're soul mates.
It's not stalking if it's meant to be. God intended for this to happen...
Name: Werewolf Warriors ~ Part 3Word count: 517
Notes: wow, JUST within the word limts. I had to adjust quite a bit even to get it there.
I believe in God. I believe in miracles. And especially, I believe in angels. It’s not like I believed in them more than everything else, I’ve just always really loved them. It was my comfort as a child, and even now as I grow older, knowing that some holy, more powerful, being watching over me at all times. Keeping me safe, holding me out of harm’s way.
But like most people, I’d gotten a certain idea of how things should look. People are always doing that, you know. Reading, or hearing about something, getting a certain picture in their head of that thing, and when the real thing comes along and turns out to be totally different it’s hard to except it.
Take me for instance... I’ve always imagined that my guardian angel’s eyes would be blue. A deep sapphire blue. Not that there was something wrong with green, or brown, or hazel. They were all great colors too, but I’d just always imagined mine with deep blue eyes.
So of course, when they turned out to be deep black chasms, I was shocked.
Of course, he wasn’t really my actual spiritual angel, but at the time I had honestly thought he was my guardian angel. So when this person bent over me, after removing the savage from my chest, I had thought he was my angel, and I was shocked into complete silence looking into the bottomless black pools of his eyes. See what set views and ideas can do to you?
He spoke to me, but I couldn’t seem to hear him. Pain was taking over the shock, and I was losing concentration. He shook me, trying to get my attention, and finally I heard the words, “...Where?”
“Rostolor...poison...left arm,” I managed to answer.
The pain, combined with the pain of the injuries acquired from the crash, was building up to the breaking point. I was trying to pray, but I couldn’t think of any words. Worries filled any part of my mind that wasn’t battling with the pain. The stranger wouldn’t know what Rostolor poison was, much less the antidote, would he? And would he have the antidote even if he did know it? Did he know its name?”
“Antidote...green band....Corstolor...” I uttered, trying to explain more, but the poison was taking over my body, and I could feel myself start to shake.
Lucky he seemed to understand and he reached into his pack around his waist and searched frantically. He came out with another dart object filled with clear serum. There was a green band around the top. He stabbed that in my left arm and rubbed the spot vigorously, trying to get the antidote spread as quickly as he could.
For a moment there was a moment of blessed numbness, but only a moment. It was followed immediately by a rush of unbearable pain. A red haze filled my vision and I could feel myself tossing on the ground. The person above me held me firmly to the ground before I could hurt myself, and finally blackness took over all my senses.
That was great! That would make a really good prelude to a longer story.
yeah, it would, that's awesome clare!
lol thank u guys. actually I had planned to start with this section, but then decided to explain a little first.
Name: Werewolf Warriors ~ Part 4
Word count: 662
Notes: blah I totally forgot that I had to post more of this. >.<
When I woke up I was moving. Like jolting around on a soft surface. I found this odd enough without the strange rumbling noises. I managed to force my eyelids open and found myself staring up at a cracked, cloth covered ceiling. I turned my head to see where the heck I was, but quickly regretted it. A pounding migraine, like a sledge hammer smashing at my brain, popped out of nowhere. I winced but looked around all the same. I was in a beaten up, rusted truck. That’s right. An actual automobile. I was frozen with shock for a moment. Where had this been found? Car had practically gone instinct years ago. This one looked as if it was going to fall apart any second, everything being either rusted or cracked beyond recognition. I looked out the window, surprisingly still intact. There was a small warranty print on it, though half of it was scratched off. All I could see was “Ford” and “2009.” 2009?! How was the person driving this thing?! Suddenly I remember the person, and what had happened. I tried to sit up suddenly, but immediately regretted it. Both my arm and leg burned with unbearable pain, and the rest of me pounded like my head. Dark spots filled my vision and I laid down again.
“Ouch,” I uttered, squeezing my eyes shut against the pain and dizziness. At hearing me talk, the driver suddenly stamped on the brakes, which I was totally unprepared for. I was slamming into the seat in front of me, which, trust me, did not help matters. I groaned heavily.
“You’re awake!” said a voice. I opened my eyes and found myself staring at man who looked to be around my age, perhaps a few years older. He had longish wavy hair that matched his black eyes. He looked worried, and extremely stressed.
“I’m awake,” I agreed, wincing yet again.
“I’m sorry, your arm, and leg, I think...”
“They’re broken,” I finished. I sighed. Figures. “Do you have a safty health kit?”
He looked nervous, unsure of what to do. I asked again and he snapped out of it, opening the door and running to the back where he found a health kit. It was a little old, but it would have to do. He opened it and rummaged through it helplessly. I could tell he didn’t know the first thing about first aid.
“Here,” said, struggling to get up without jostling my arm and leg too much. “Give me that.”
He handed it to me and I looked through it quickly. I groaned in relief. Old though it may be, it still had a broken-bone mender. I grabbed the smaller and larger packs they had and tried to get them on with one hand. The man came to the rescue quickly, deftly snapping the devices in place. I pressed the ‘on’ button and it started to inflate. I sighed at the numbness settled over both the arm and leg. It was going to take a few hours for the nanobites to be injected and do their mending job. I groaned with weariness and slumped back down. Just then I remembered that this older version of the bone mender knocked you out in order to do the job with the least amount of bodily movement. I felt like hitting my head against something hard. The person who was hovering over me, looking concerned and confused, may have saved my life, but who knew who he was, or what he would do with me. Here I was practically handing myself over to some stranger. But he had saved my life, right? So it wasn’t like he wasn’t gonna go and kill me or something. But it was still stupid of me. I wanted to give myself a wake-up pill, but I was already losing consciousness, and it probably wouldn’t be able to counter this anyway. It was too late, everything around me was fading...
Mod
by: Arthur
Word Count: 643
notes: I intend to add the remaining as I go along, and am able to write it. I'll add it chapter by chapter.
.......................
Chapter One
The Leaves of Spring
In warmer climates the St. Lawrence Wetlands had been getting people throughout the summers on the river attracting them to cooler lake shores. Now the frozen surface of the lake had been cold and dry and covered mostly of ice.
The coming warm weather helped thaw thick layers of ice and soon it will become officially the spring. Spring came in the day and winter returned in the night. Donald Westlake had been working for the U.S. military biology sector. He was a matured man who was quiet and innovative and peacefulness had been hardened into him. As a veteran of marine science and biology, he had never been over for a tour of duty while in service, but his carrier in bioscience was checking water reserve in restricted water areas lying in many of the more northerly hemispheric reserved found in many protected parks. His keen general knowledge and being aware as well as protective of nature with his traveling widely and his attributing to the welfare of the canals and water systems was well respected.
Richard Stark a colleague in this field of biology had been a tall dark skinned younger man with fine looking hair, thinning and graying in spots. He had been thinking of the statistics of the city bay water area in Toronto. Richard had been resident and teacher for marine biology at the University of Toronto for ten years. He was analyzing older data he collected from the library. While wearing reading glasses that reflected the monitor of a laptop he held it balanced with one arm. When hearing his cell ring for three vibrant beeps he sulked then picked it up. On his other end was Donald; Richard could hear familiar huffing snorts.
Donald had been taking samples for tests. Donald said, “There are even more people pulling into the area. It’s making this a strange place to see, you need to see this!”
“I can’t afford to come. I’ve got to get some more tests completed. So far I don’t think it’s only the surroundings.” He set the laptop on top of table next to the chair he sat. He removed his eye glasses to hold them, and crunched his chin to hold the cell phone as he worked with his hands sterilizing his lenses with a cleaner.
That night, later in Ottawa at a restaurant during the after hour hours, three men goading about their past adventures while drinking sat at a table. They finished what they had been doing and were about to leave for it was becoming late and those rushing past to get in for the happy hour. The Ottawa Corner had become cold with the door being left open every night and everyone in the city had to be somewhere in the wind.
Edwin Westlake sat down a coffee cup with a grin. He had listened to Tucker Coe’s story about the Indians before, but tonight it had some charge for him. Leaning back he took his coat. Stood up and put it on and his hat, then said, “Well men I must retire I hope to see you all tomorrow. I’ve got to get out of this dreadful draft and noise. Tuck I hope you find an artist to paint your stories.” He chuckled; he then stopped flipped up his cell phone for it just had three distinct vibrant beeps.
Samuel Holt resting at the table pulled out his cell checking if he missed any of his messages. He found none except one, which was less important as it is from his mother. He realized he forgot and had not called her yet this week surely that was what was important. He gave up.
Edwin sat back down. He cleared his throat. “Tuck, you notice anything strange in the Valley area in the air?” he asked.
“Not really. Mars is phenomenally close again. The moon too maybe, my old professor would say that when the moon is this close it wants something.”
The men chuckled. They gathered coats and left.
chapter 2
Donald had returned at the University with his samples he had taken to analyze. “I just don’t see what this stuff is?”
“You found anything yet?” Richard asked briefly, looking up.
“That’s just it Richard. Nothing is unusual about these samples. No tests I did, any I can think of will get any results. Do you think I may have not noticed something?” Donald asked.
“Samuel Holt’s on the way. He’ll get deeper into the rocks and soil for samples also. Maybe that something just hasn’t surfaced to the top just yet.”
There’s not a maybe. And it’s not what I am thinking either. It’s your call of course. I think you have good resources here, of course. It’s just if something is creating people to come out of their homes to see something and the government don’t know what this is yet, its not on the surface then there’s simply something more complex and deeper in the works here. And I don’t truly know if I can solve this mystery.”
“There are no unsolvable mysteries today. No more. No big foot – UFO landings or contact of the third kind Donald. This is science. this has to be something coming, and I mean coming in a geological phenomenon. Can’t you just feel the crowds and what they come to feel? They don’t know it yet neither. And neither do us.” he hadn’t looked like he was sure. He breathed in his unlikely words. Richard glared at Donald with promise now. “With the total rate they keep coming in and staying, the sudden increases . . . whatever it is, it’s soon. Donald. Donald did you know birds observe differently than humans?”
“If you sit quietly they don’t become distracted, they need too be cautious and can as a type of behavior.” Donald admitted.
“And that makes them different enough to still have wings and feathers.”
“The dodo is extinct.” Donald said, he wondered.
“Just a point. And it probably wasn’t very bird like either.” Richard said.
Mod
Tucker Coe parked in the back of the university. They got out of the technical looking truck far enough from the university’s entrances to distract attention. There was a lot involved in parking in the university’s parking lot, still not to alert students or anyone should they appear slightly curious while on campus. This could spell hardship.
Samuel and Edwin had just woke. Their feeling was that they just slept across the province through late last night.
“Who knows where we are?” Tuck asked. Samuel and Edwin both went to U of T for their degree.
“I guess my senses are tingling and with my cell phone I can get us there.” Edwin assured Tuck. “Tuck, you do not need to come out to the sight to work with us. You can check into our hotel and get some rest if you’re not up to it.”
“I would like too but I just can’t think to rest until I know a little more of what we are doing here.” with a smile he then said rubbing his chin, “I didn’t see old Mr. Moon do anything late last night. Or anything. So really, I’d like to hang out a while guys.”
Pulling out a cooler of bottles, tuck said “Water?”
“Sure.”
“Same here.”
They opened a bottle each and they gulped them down.
“Edwin, your brother Donald right, got involved first I take it? And his friendship with this Richard Stack is what?”
“They graduated together, they’ve worked before together.”
“You?”
“No. This’d be the first time. He wants people outside of TO city.”
“I’m the only guy not from TO dudes.”
“Then you are in for the TO sweets treat. It’s a big world and growing faster too.” Samuel had wanted to come back some time to Toronto, but he couldn’t imagine it involving a mystery.
“Nay, Modern and cool looking I’ll give you. But is it attractive? I’ll settle for Ottawa.” Tuck replied. He was hard headed when it came to entertainment. A fast city might mean worse conditions than he is used to.
“Well ha; we live with you in Ottawa.” Samuel stated. “It was kind of a shame Toronto didn’t grow to keep growing as Ottawa did. But Toronto has some really nice cities around it and historical ones too.”
“That’s what I mean. Old cities are attractive. Toronto is a new city. After we get some rest we can have a night out in some place quiet. You think?” Tucker asked.
They went into the university.
“What’s the more logical next move?” Tucker asked.
“Getting to know why we are it. And why he needed this help we are offering. But remember he can’t or won’t trust anyone else.”
omg, i totally forgot about this! O.o lol i gotta get to work!
Name: Werewolf Warriors ~ Part 5Word count: 947
Notes: ahh!! Only a little more to go!!
Turns out I was right. Which, of course, was extremely depressing. When I woke up I was on the ground with my hands and feet tied. Absolutely everything ached, and if I hadn’t already been on the ground, it probably wouldn’t have taken long to get there. My head was swimming in dizziness, and it was hard to keep everything in focus. I assumed my arm and leg had healed, or this position would have been hurting beyond the pain I felt now. I blinked a few times and caught some white on the edge of my vision. There was something on my forehead, and I had the urge to reach up and rip it off, but of course I couldn’t. I looked down and saw Heal-Patches on my arms and legs on the big scrapes and cuts. I took a deep breath and tried to think my way out of the situation. Didn’t feel like I was gonna be able to get out of these bonds by struggling, but there was nothing else I could really do. I was in a completely empty tent, no tools to use to get myself out. Struggling it is, I thought grimly. I could only hope that I’d get out of this alive. I started to wiggle around, trying to find a weak spot as quietly as I could. Apparently it wasn’t quiet enough, because someone came rushing to the tent and a middle aged women burst in, glanced at me, then turned around and yelled, “She’s awake!”
She turned around and eyed me suspiciously. A second later two other men came in, neither of them resembling Mr. Angel, and they grabbed me. They carried me out past rows of tents into a small cleared out space with a fire pit in the center. They stood me up and stood by my sides, there in case I decided to run. I swayed for a moment, but caught my balance before I could fall. I looked around, trying to ignore my pounding headache. People dressed in ripped up dirty scavenger clothing started to gather. After a moment a young strong looking man, probably in his early twenties, made his way confidently through the crowd. He held an ancient looking AK47 in his hand. He marched up to me and digging the gun barrel in my chest, he questioned, “Who are you?”
Not one for beating around the bush.
I was silent, praying that he wouldn’t blow a hole through me.
“Answer me,” he said in a harsh demanding voice. He pushed the barrel a little harder into me. It made my already aching chest feel even worse. He glared at me and hovered his finger over the trigger. I tried to summon up some sort of answer, but have you ever tried to say something when a person is pushing a gun into your body and putting his finger two inches over the trigger? I prayed one of the bystanders would object to this, but no one did.
“Um,” I finally managed, trying to look straight into the other man’s eyes, “I would appreciate it greatly if you didn’t shoot me.” Maybe I should have just told him my name, but it was really hard to think, feeling the cold metal through my torn up shirt.
“Dammit!” the man shouted, “TELL ME WHO YOU ARE!” He shoved the gun hard right into my solar plexus, making the air whoosh out of my lungs, and I collapsed. I curled up with the pain and tried to get some air into my lungs. I gasped and coughed roughly.
“What the hell, Samuel?” someone else yelled. The person rushed forward and turned me on my back gently. I recognized his dark hair and black eyes. His eyes were wide with horror and concern. “Are you okay?”
I groaned, for an answer. I couldn’t speak, still trying to get my breath back.
The man got up and turned at Samuel, the AK47 holder, fire in his eyes. “What do you trying to do, kill her?! She hasn’t done anything to merit this treatment,” he said in a dangerously low voice.
Samuel glared and answered, “We have no reason to trust her, Marcuz.”
“So we should kill her?”he asked incredulously.
“We can’t take chances.”
“I didn’t bring her here to get murdered,” Marcuz answer angrily.
“It’s Viki,” came a raspy voice. My own, I realized. “Viki...Monroez” I said. My real last name was Laskia of course, but who knew what side these people were on?
There was a silence and Marcuz said, “Get out of here Samuel.”
“You are not in charge of this group Marcuz!” Samuel shouted back.
“Neither are you, as much as you would like to be. My father will return in a few days, and will resume as leader.” Marcuz retorted.
“Just because your Joel’s son doesn’t mean you hold any of his power,” Samuel hissed vehemently.
“Alright boys,” A clear voice cut in the argument. An able looking young women walked into the clearing waving her hand dismissively at the two men. “Enough fighting, we have other things to worry about.”
Marcuz and Samuel glared at each other for a few moments, and then the man named Marcuz turned to me. He grabbed my arms and helped me up, supporting me with one arm.
“I’m sorry about that,” he said sincerely. “I had to leave for a few hours after we got back, I had no idea this would happen.”
I nodded my understanding and asked, “Where am I?”
“You, my woman,” answered the woman with dirty blond hair and strong muscles who stood in front of me, “are in a Werewolf camp.”
Name: Werewolf Warriors ~ Part 6Word count: 1,047
Notes: jeez, idk how to end it!!!?!
What was with my luck?! Did EVERYTHING have to go wrong? How could I end up in a Werewolf camp? How?!
The woman stepped forward and took my arm and Mr. Angel, Marcuz, whoever he was, let go and mumbled something like, “Be back, need to take care of...” or something and then followed the direction Samuel had taken. The woman gave me a calculating look and gave me a curt nod.
“Name’s Alyss,” she said, business-like. “You look like you could use a bite to eat, come on.” She led me to one of the tent and someone else handed me a bowl of some sort of stew. I eyed it suspiciously, which Alyss seemed to notice, because she took a big spoonful and ate it.
“It’s clean,” she assured me. I hesitated, but my hunger overcame my fear and I started to eat it.
Alyss backed off and watched me, but did not speak. I contemplated the situation I was in, while I ate. First I had crashed in a hover craft, then I’d almost been killed by a barbarian, and now I was in the middle of a Werewolf camp. The werewolves were possibly my uncle’s greatest and most dangerous enemies. How could I have such bad luck? I was glad I’d given them the false name. Though Marcuz and Alyss had defended me readily enough just a few moments ago, I had a feeling that neither of them would hesitate to shoot me if they knew I was William Laskia’s niece and he was legal guardian. Either kill me or use me as a hostage. Werewolves were among the most violent and cunning groups against the government. I hadn’t a doubt that I would be dead by the end of the week either way, if they discovered my true identity. Which was why I needed to escape a.s.a.p. I was away from my uncle more than I was with him, but there were bound to be pictures, and surely somebody in this camp had seen me at the capitol back when television was still operational. Any second I could be discovered. It made me edgy. I finished the bland tasting meal in minutes, and my eyes went back to the standing form of Alyss. I got up cautiously, but she made no move to stop me. We stood staring at each other for a moment, before the awkward silence was broken by a man barging his way into the large tent. It was Marcuz. He paused when his eyes fell on me.
“So you’re alright then?” he asked. He looked doubtfully at both the arm and the leg that had been broken.
“Yes,” I answer. My voice was raspy and rough. I cough and cleared my throat. “How long was I out?”
“A day and a half,” he answered.
“Plenty of time for the bone-mender to do its work,” I mused. I took my eyes off the two strangers in the room and check myself over. The white thing on my head I had noticed before was a bandage wrapped around my head. I took in account all the scrapes on myself. Suddenly I remembered about my allergic reactions to Merialin, the universally used antibacterial solution. I’d feel deathly sick for days if I didn’t catch it before it was too deep in effect. I looked at Marcuz and Alyss in alarm and asked, “Did you use Merialin?”
They gave me a questioning stare.
I groaned. It still surprised me how most people didn’t know basic medical care in this day and age, when there was war and carnage everywhere you went. “Who bandaged me up?” I asked.
“Um, Anthony I think,” Marcuz said, still not understanding what I was trying to say.
“Would you please bring me to him?” I asked, desperately now. If they had bandaged me up say a day or so earlier, then my body would start to fight off the antibacterial any moment, and it would leave me too sick to move for days. There would be no chance of escape then.
They didn’t understand what the problem was but they led me to another tent in which there was a aging man, looking over some medical supplies.
“Ah, so the girl has awoken,” he said, smiling.
“Did, you use Merialin?” I asked, not bothering with introductions.
He looked at me quizzically, but said, “Yes. Yes, of course I did.”
“Crap,” I muttered, and I stepped forward to look through his medical supplies.
“Hey, you can’t...” he started but I put up a commanding finger, and continued.
“I’m allergic to Merialin,” I explained in a hurry, “Do you have something to fight back the immune system before it gets started?”
“I-I’m sorry, I don’t know?” The man answer, looking nervous.
“Aren’t you the camp medic?” I turned to looked at him, alarmed.
“Yes, but...”
“Oh lord, you don’t know any more about this then they do,” I said exasperatedly, gesturing to Marcuz and Aylss who were looking on the scene in alarm and concern.
“Well,” Anthony started, but I ignored the rest. I was too busy ripping apart the makeshift shelves, looking for some Beleorino, or Zenecforix. Finally I came upon some Kerinicolz, which I wasn’t sure would help all that much, but it was the only thing that they had that had a chance. I grabbed a needle and sterilizing patch, and wiped down the inside of my arm and the metal of the needle. It seconds I had the solution ready to be placed in my blood stream. Anthony stepped forward and said, “Are you sure you...”
“Yes,” I interrupted, and plunged the needle into my arm.
It only took a few seconds for the dizziness to come. This was going to knock me out for a few hours most likely, if it actually worked. Ahh frick. I pulled the needle out and placed it on the table. I stood up unsteadily and walked a few feet before collapsing. Someone caught me, probably Marcuz, he being the closest, and tried to get me to stand up, but one by one I was losing control over each part of my body. Everything started to mush together and spin about crazily. I was falling unconscious. Again. Groan.
Mod
Word Count: 540
Notes: This did not come out quite how I planned, please excuse the confusion and confuzzlement. P.S. sorry its so short but this is the only installment.
Sometimes, you can’t see the end of the rainbow. But you run towards it anyway.
A quiet street. Similar, but not quite the same houses line the road. The sidewalks are neither cracked nor new. A small breeze picks up a piece of paper in the road and whirls it around for a bit. It lands face up. A poster advertising a circus in town, it displays a large tiger’s head with fanciful designs around it.
A quiet girl walks down the street. Dressed in a green canvas jacket, a small cloth tag that says “Remove Before Wearing. J. CREW” sticks out. Hands in the pockets of her jeans, her dirty blonde hair, cropped short, blows about in the wind. She stops abruptly. She has noticed the flyer. She picks it up, and her face displays a slight confused frown as she looks at it. Then her blue eyes light up. She stuffs the paper in her pocket and pushes back her hair. As she walks on, faster, with a purpose, she begins to whistle. A quiet girl. Now not so quiet. With a purpose.
~***~
Taylor walked down the street. It was over. No longer would she deal with her uncaring, angry, preoccupied parents. Ever since she had graduated college five years early, all they had done was think of ways to make money off their young genius. No more. She was going to run off and join the circus. It was cliché, but who cared. AS she walked deep in thought, her feet automatically taking her home to pack her belongings, she bumped into something. She looked down. It was a dog with a madly waving tail, a cute Jack Russell terrier. “Hey, boy,” she said, stooping down and scratching him behind the ears. He was relatively clean. “Who do you belong to?” He didn’t have any tags.
Taylor smiled. She quickly phoned the animal shelter to say she was picking up a stray and to set a vet appointment for later. She turned to the dog and lookind into his friendly eyes. “So,” she said, “What’s your name?”
~***~
Taylor walked along with her dog, Alex, newly clean ad outfitted with a collar and leash, and her friend Jason. “So that’s the deal,” said Jason. “But what’ll you tell your parents?” Taylor shrugged. “I was hoping you would leave the note for me… just one last favor before I leave you and everyone else behind.” Jason smiled in a sort of nostalgic way. “OK,” he said. “You win.”
Jason tiptoed through Taylor’s house. They were all out. He left her note on her parents’ bed. He was glad she was finally escaping her manipulative parents. He looked around one last time. Then he left to place a note of his own.
~***~
Taylor finished hugging her friends. She was so happy for her new life. But it was bittersweet. She was confused and hurt. Jason had never showed up. And they… she… never mind. It would never happen now. As she walked towards the back entrance of the circus with Alex running around her feet, suddenly she heard footsteps and huffing and puffing. She turned. Jason puffed up to her with a backpack. “I’m coming with you.”
Name: Werewolf Warriors ~ Part 7Word count: 584
Notes: Last installment, sorry for the abruptness of the ending. I realized that there was no way to make it end any better by the end of today, so I did the best I could. I am considering making this into a full length story sometime, but I’m not sure yet. Please tell me what you think.
You know something has seriously gone wrong in your life when the first thought you have waking up is ‘Hey, I’m still alive. Weird.’ Which was, of course, the first thought in my mind when I finally came about hours later. I opened my eyes to see that I was in the same tent I’d woken up in the first time, only this time I was not tied, and there was a person watching me. It was the man, Marcuz. His mind must have been running along the same line as mine, because the first thing he said was, “She lives!”
“Yes, I live,” I said with a groan. I sat up dizzily.
“Are you a medic then?” he asked.
“Huh?” I asked, confused.
“You seemed to know your way around the medic area.”
“Oh, that. Um, assistant nurse actually,” I replied, rubbing me eyes.
“I see.”
“I never said thanks,” I realized.
“For what?” he asked, puzzled.
“Saving my life back there,” I answered. How could he forget?
“Oh, that. Your welcome, but it would have been a lot better if Samuel hadn’t attacked you the instant you’d woken up, and Anthony hadn’t giving some drug your deathly allergic to.”
“Well the Merialin could hardly be helped, how could anyone have known I was allergic to it without a medicard? And Samuel. Well I suppose he had no reason to trust me.”
“Or to attack you,” Marcuz said darkly. “But don’t worry about it, he’s been taken care of.”
I didn’t know how to reply to that, so I only nodded.
“So what happened?”
“With what?” I asked
“The aircraft crashing,” he clarified.
“Oh,” I said, rubbing my still pounding forehead, “I have no idea. I fell asleep and when I woke up we were going down. We were under fire I think.”
“You’re lucky to have lived,” he said.
“Yeah, I know.”
“So where are you headed to?” he asked casually.
I couldn’t tell him that I was heading to the capitol. Only allies to my uncle were allowed past security, and to say that that was my destination would arouse suspicion. Instead I answered, “North Florida, I have family there.”
“Strange that you were able to get a hovercraft,” he said, a little doubtful.
“My cousin down there has connections,” I answered, hoping I sounded confident.
“I see,” he answered, still doubtful, but he let it drop. “Well it seems you’re stranded for the time being. We have a group going that way in a few weeks, but until then, I’d advise you to stay with us. It’s dangerous to travel alone these days.”
“I...well I think I’ll manage,” I said, “I’m in a bit of a hurry to get down there.”
“I would strongly advise against it. Just wait a week, whatever it is can wait a week, can’t it?”
I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t want him to get suspicious of who I was. So I decided to go along with it. “Alright, a week.”
“Good. In the meantime, perhaps to can show Anthony a thing or two,” he said with a smile and a wink. I gave him a shaky smile.
“I could try.”
I would have to figure out a way to escape soon. This was risky. I’d go along with it for now, but I would have to get away soon. They could discover my identity any moment, and I’d be as good as dead. Yes, I’d find a way to get away soon.
Ok I guess I'll post the poll now, please go vote!
H, do u want ur story on short story Galore? I'm assuming not, but I thought I'd ask...
Mod
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Topic Picture (we're gonna try to start out easy this time):
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Good luck!
Clare
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