Looking for crtiique on my nearly finished novel
Nov 6, 2010 17:20:01 GMT -8
Post by Deleted on Nov 6, 2010 17:20:01 GMT -8
I posted this on the old forums and didn't end up getting replies, so I thought I'd try again. 
I'm looking for feedback pertaining more toward the characters/plot than grammar, but please do comment if you see something glaring. Hope you enjoy, and thanks!
Here's a bit of a synopsis:
Title: The Broken Gate
Once, long ago, in a world far from our own, a powerful object was forged, harnessing the very energies within the universe. This object could create, and destroy. It passed down from one dictator to another, until the people rose up, and as a result, the object was shattered, and the people vanished, shards of this object flying to other worlds.
On Earth, Cal, a teenage girl, witnesses terrible events that result in her being hunted by someone desperate to gather all the pieces of that ancient object together and rule all the worlds. She is protected by five others, taken in and taught how to fight so that her family, and all the worlds, will be safe.
Oh. There is pretty rampant cussing and violence, so if any of that bothers you...yeah.
The chapters also get longer as you go along, so keep in mind that long chapters wait ahead!
*EDIT*
Thanks to crit from A FUCKING WIZARD (love the name by the way), I edited the first chapter, and the subsequent chapters so it would match. So if you read it before now (10/9/10) then please re-read it.
Chapter One
The Following
“Be not afraid of greatness: some are born great, some achieve greatness and some have greatness thrust upon them.”
-William Shakespeare, Twelfth Night- Act II, Scene V
Chapter Two:
They boy’s words tumbled form her mind. He had said those things, kept her close, so…
Fact Seven, This boy prevented the shopkeeper from doing me harm, lying so that I would not die.
Fact Eight, he did not commit murder in front of me.
And most importantly…
Fact Nine, He brought me back to my house, unharmed.
The window, which was very slightly open, showed her the world. Cal had long stared out her window, thinking that it showed her the world in a way that nothing else could. Her street, the people walking so ignorant along their daily lives, and yet- how was she any different? Many knew of the problems that their world faced, and what did she, or any of them, do to change it? The answer was frightening: They did nothing. They were more content to lead their lives with ignorance, not fueling the bad by not contributing to it. A wry thought came to Cal’s mind as she stood, and began walking toward her door:
So I suppose the issue is not if I should be involved, but if I want to be…
“She’s not telling the truth, Lilliana.”
Cal froze on the top of the stairs; hand on the railing, listening to her parent’s whispered conversation. Below, she could hear the sounds of her brother rifling through the pantry.
“…I know.”
Inching around the corner, Cal saw her father, his back toward her, Lilliana sitting in front of their mirror, brushing her hair, with a look that showed she needed something to do with her hands.
“…’Ana, koishii, ” he took a deep breath. “Whatever happened, she doesn’t want us to know about it.” Dai placed his hands lightly upon his wife’s shoulders.
Her mom paused, brush halfway down a thick bit of hair. “I know. Why, do you think?”
Her husband shrugged. “Whatever she was doing, we have to trust her to tell us about it when and if she is ready.” He bent forward, placing his lips on top of his wife’s head.
Lilliana looked up at him, frowning. “I don’t like letting this lie, Dai. Though you might be right, I don’t feel comfortable not asking her about it. Perhaps she will come around and tell us, but her holding it in is not going to help anyone.” She sighed. “But you’re probably right. You can read her better than I can.”
Dai shook his head, running callused fingers through his wife’s long hair. “You read her just as well as I do. Better, sometimes. And I think that makes her a little uncomfortable.” His voice was a murmur and he wrapped his arms around her.
Lilliana exhaled, bringing her hands up to clasp his arms. “I don’t know. Often I’m not sure that I know her anymore. Even when we’re doing things, or on the same sync, parts of her still seem so foreign to me…”
“She probably feels a bit foreign to herself.” Dai kissed her head again. “Things are changing in ways that are going to be hard for her to understand. But she’s handling it pretty well. She loves you, very much.”
Lilliana gave a faint smile. “I know she does.” Cal’s mom paused, fingers running down her husband’s arm. “She’ll be okay, don’t you think? She’ll get through whatever’s in store for her.”
“I haven’t a doubt in my mind.”
Cal backed away from the wall, from her parents and their words. She loved her family. She loved spending time with them, and it wasn’t her intention to alienate them in any way, to make her mother feel as though she didn’t understand her own daughter…
I won’t do that anymore, she vowed, balling her hand into a fist. From now on she would be their daughter alone, nothing else. She would forget about the boy and what she had seen and heard, and go back to her life. It was a promise, one she would not break.
But, as with all self-sacrifices, it was easier said than done.
[/spoiler]
Aaaand chapter three, where *cue music* the plot thickens!
I'm looking for feedback pertaining more toward the characters/plot than grammar, but please do comment if you see something glaring. Hope you enjoy, and thanks!Here's a bit of a synopsis:
Title: The Broken Gate
Once, long ago, in a world far from our own, a powerful object was forged, harnessing the very energies within the universe. This object could create, and destroy. It passed down from one dictator to another, until the people rose up, and as a result, the object was shattered, and the people vanished, shards of this object flying to other worlds.
On Earth, Cal, a teenage girl, witnesses terrible events that result in her being hunted by someone desperate to gather all the pieces of that ancient object together and rule all the worlds. She is protected by five others, taken in and taught how to fight so that her family, and all the worlds, will be safe.
Oh. There is pretty rampant cussing and violence, so if any of that bothers you...yeah.
The chapters also get longer as you go along, so keep in mind that long chapters wait ahead!
*EDIT*
Thanks to crit from A FUCKING WIZARD (love the name by the way), I edited the first chapter, and the subsequent chapters so it would match. So if you read it before now (10/9/10) then please re-read it.
Chapter One
The Following
“Be not afraid of greatness: some are born great, some achieve greatness and some have greatness thrust upon them.”
-William Shakespeare, Twelfth Night- Act II, Scene V
She ran, the thickening crowd hiding her from her family’s view, her shoulders shaking. She had to keep moving. It was like a hand was pushing roughly at her back; she stumbled, ignoring startled and concerned looks, pushing past those getting in her way.
“Cal!” She could hear her brother calling for her, practically feel his footsteps as he ran after her, their parents not far behind.
Cal fought the invisible hand pushing her for mere moments, catching sight of his face, dark eyes wide as he took her in, reaching out almost hesitantly. How she must have looked, standing hunched over, face twisting at actual pain in her chest. “Ian,” she gasped, words tumbling out of her lips, for she knew, somehow, that her family could not follow her, no matter what.
“Bathroom- sick,” she blurted, relief flooding her body as she turned and let the hand push her again, Ian calling after her still, her parents’ voices joining his. She ran faster, more and more people separating them, as she knew had to be done.
Keep going, something told her, something that filled her with equal parts dread and eagerness- she had to keep going, wanted to keep going, and no questions filled her mind as to why.
Something red flashed through the crowd. Her eyes scanned for it desperately, her pounding heart seeming to fill up her throat, threatening to actually make her sick.
There! A man walked through the crowd, not pausing to look at shops, or to even glance at the other people, as sure in his purpose as Cal was in hers at that moment. She slowed to a walk, the hand bidding her to follow more carefully. The man’s trench coat flapped around his ankles, his head turning left and right- seeming to be looking for something.
Minutes passed, and the crowd thinned. The boy did not look back at her, and people’s gazes seemed to slide right past her as well, but she did not care. The hand on her back was warm, forceful; this was what she had to do.
He abruptly turned a corner, and Cal hung back, the hand seeming to grab her shoulder, not wanting her to be seen. Slowly coming around the corner, she saw that the boy had not paused in his stride- hand reaching out to push open a door to an abandoned antique shop with rusted windowpanes. The door did not close all the way, and though the windows were tinted, Cal thought that she could see two people speaking to the other. They were just dark smudges against the glass- smudges that were moving out of sight. The hand shoved her forward, and she ran without thought for the roughness. He was getting away, and she couldn’t let that happen!
The door felt coarse under her light fingertips, splinters poking at her soft skin. The invisible hand told her to slow, and she paused, real fear hitting her for a moment. She squeezed through the open door, struggling to keep it steady so no one would hear it creak. The room she stood in was lit by a flickering light attached to the wall- a terrible, pungent, smell hovered on the air, like something was rotting nearby. Trying not to gag, Cal gingerly began to walk down the hall, head cocked to the side- listening. The hand pushed gently now at her back, bending her forward, down onto her knees. Crawling- gently pressing her palms to the floor, she heard low voices not too far away. Squinting in the now dim light, she saw an open doorway a few feet from her. Go, whispered something within her. She fought to control her breathing as she inched toward the open door. The smell was stronger there.
Cal saw piles of boxes, some towering to the ceiling, others thrown casually to the side. Mountains of broken jewelry, wood, and cardboard peeked out from under the columns. She could see the brown trench coat the boy had been wearing, just around the corner of some towers near the doorway. Cal inched herself toward the columns, peeking around the corner briefly to see the boy, back turned to her, speaking to a shopkeeper with slicked black hair. She turned back quickly, pressing her back against the box.
It was as if the invisible hand trailed softly down her hair, and for a moment it was as if she could hear someone saying ‘thank you’, and then it was gone.
“You know what I’m here for.”
Her breath caught in her throat- heart thumping madly as she clutched her knees. All of her sureness vanished as the hand did. Somehow, she knew that to be seen where she was could very well mean death. It was as though a shroud had been lifted from her face- she was in danger. Slowly, sure that the other occupants of the room could hear her pattering heart; she inhaled, exhaling almost inaudibly. Fighting her paralyzing fear, she tried to inch back toward the door, something stopping her again as the boy spoke.
“I don’t have what you want. I wouldn’t give it to you if I did.”
The shopkeeper’s voice was low, raspy, and filled with a sort of menace. Chuckling in a way she could only see as cruel, the shopkeeper continued.
“Oh great Cobra, I know your real name. Too bad for you that I am in Cronos’s employment- and I know above all else that you are no longer.”
Cal dared to look around the corner again, the boy’s voice putting her in mind of a feral smile.
“I see. A new recruit, are you? A few weeks in it would seem. And, if that is the case…” The boy shimmered, and all over him colors moved, rearranged, until a boy with longer blond hair stood there, wearing a dark red hooded jacket, black pants, and brown boots. Cal could see a knife and a gun clipped to one boot. Clipped at his back was a scythe, and she could spy two other guns at his waist. He was also covered by tiny dime like circles, which he peeled off, revealing that they were connected, like a web. Faster than she could blink, he folded them together until they were around the size of a cell phone. He slid it into his pocket, taking a step closer to the shopkeeper, who sneered. The boy continued. “Then there is no need for disguises. Unfortunately, you are not as stupid as you look. But even you must know too, then, that if you say my name- I will kill you.”
A tense silence followed; Cal held her breath, half sure that they would hear.
“Now,” the boy continued, “Either you assist me with information, or you produce what I want. I can only promise that I would be kinder than Cronos would be.”
The shopkeeper laughed again, and Cal felt her fear increase, knowing that the smart thing to do would be to leave now- but somehow she couldn’t make her body move.
“As usual,” The shopkeeper went on, “Cronos is several steps ahead. You came too late. I told him everything I knew. He knew you were coming. He always knows…”
“Fine then,” The boy spat, voice growing louder. “I gave you your chance. If you think that throwing around Cronos’s name will keep you safe, you’re more deluded than I had thought. If anything, it makes it even more certain that you will die.”
The shopkeeper’s voice too rose, almost hysterically- “On your own head be it! And I shall laugh with him when we rule this world and the next- as your body rots in a pit! You just couldn’t settle, could you? With all your morals and your sympathy, you couldn’t remain the deadly Cobra- and when I turn you to him I will get what you threw away tenfold! And you, you Cobra will lie dead and forgotten, your deeds will mean nothing because then, you’ll only be Tr-”
There was a clattering of boxes, loud scuffling and struggling gasps- daring to look, Cal saw the shopkeeper pinned to a wall, the boy’s hand on his throat. Her eyes widened, breathing halted at the scene before her.
“Whoops,” the boy breathed as the squirming man beneath his fingers began to turn blue, spluttering incoherently. “You almost said it. You have no right to say my name. Now, you die.” There was no regret in the boy’s voice.
Cal reacted instinctively as horror washed through her- drawing backward rapidly, her elbow smashed into a pile of boxes, all of which clattered to the ground. The scuffling immediately ceased, a loud thump echoing around the room as the shopkeeper fell to the floor, barely conscious. Not daring to look up, Cal tried to move again toward the door, crawling backward in a crabwalk, freezing as a voice called out to her- “Don’t move.” Footsteps came close, kicking over the boxes in front of her.
The shopkeeper spoke, out of breath, choking slightly, on his feet again.
“Looks like we have an audience, Cobra. Shall I do the honors of disposing of our trespasser?”
The boy snorted. “Good luck getting rid of her. Thanks for the diversion, Cass.”
Cal heard the shopkeeper’s feet moving backward. “Hydra?” The fear in his voice had increased.
“Yes.” The boy’s voice was conversational. “Want to see what happens when you try to cut off her head?”
The footsteps were coming again, and Cal felt a strong hand close around her upper arm. Still keeping her head down, Cal stifled a gasp as a low, smooth voice reached her ear- too quiet for all but her to hear.
“Say nothing. Stand, follow my lead and you don’t have to be involved.”
“Cal!” She could hear her brother calling for her, practically feel his footsteps as he ran after her, their parents not far behind.
Cal fought the invisible hand pushing her for mere moments, catching sight of his face, dark eyes wide as he took her in, reaching out almost hesitantly. How she must have looked, standing hunched over, face twisting at actual pain in her chest. “Ian,” she gasped, words tumbling out of her lips, for she knew, somehow, that her family could not follow her, no matter what.
“Bathroom- sick,” she blurted, relief flooding her body as she turned and let the hand push her again, Ian calling after her still, her parents’ voices joining his. She ran faster, more and more people separating them, as she knew had to be done.
Keep going, something told her, something that filled her with equal parts dread and eagerness- she had to keep going, wanted to keep going, and no questions filled her mind as to why.
Something red flashed through the crowd. Her eyes scanned for it desperately, her pounding heart seeming to fill up her throat, threatening to actually make her sick.
There! A man walked through the crowd, not pausing to look at shops, or to even glance at the other people, as sure in his purpose as Cal was in hers at that moment. She slowed to a walk, the hand bidding her to follow more carefully. The man’s trench coat flapped around his ankles, his head turning left and right- seeming to be looking for something.
Minutes passed, and the crowd thinned. The boy did not look back at her, and people’s gazes seemed to slide right past her as well, but she did not care. The hand on her back was warm, forceful; this was what she had to do.
He abruptly turned a corner, and Cal hung back, the hand seeming to grab her shoulder, not wanting her to be seen. Slowly coming around the corner, she saw that the boy had not paused in his stride- hand reaching out to push open a door to an abandoned antique shop with rusted windowpanes. The door did not close all the way, and though the windows were tinted, Cal thought that she could see two people speaking to the other. They were just dark smudges against the glass- smudges that were moving out of sight. The hand shoved her forward, and she ran without thought for the roughness. He was getting away, and she couldn’t let that happen!
The door felt coarse under her light fingertips, splinters poking at her soft skin. The invisible hand told her to slow, and she paused, real fear hitting her for a moment. She squeezed through the open door, struggling to keep it steady so no one would hear it creak. The room she stood in was lit by a flickering light attached to the wall- a terrible, pungent, smell hovered on the air, like something was rotting nearby. Trying not to gag, Cal gingerly began to walk down the hall, head cocked to the side- listening. The hand pushed gently now at her back, bending her forward, down onto her knees. Crawling- gently pressing her palms to the floor, she heard low voices not too far away. Squinting in the now dim light, she saw an open doorway a few feet from her. Go, whispered something within her. She fought to control her breathing as she inched toward the open door. The smell was stronger there.
Cal saw piles of boxes, some towering to the ceiling, others thrown casually to the side. Mountains of broken jewelry, wood, and cardboard peeked out from under the columns. She could see the brown trench coat the boy had been wearing, just around the corner of some towers near the doorway. Cal inched herself toward the columns, peeking around the corner briefly to see the boy, back turned to her, speaking to a shopkeeper with slicked black hair. She turned back quickly, pressing her back against the box.
It was as if the invisible hand trailed softly down her hair, and for a moment it was as if she could hear someone saying ‘thank you’, and then it was gone.
“You know what I’m here for.”
Her breath caught in her throat- heart thumping madly as she clutched her knees. All of her sureness vanished as the hand did. Somehow, she knew that to be seen where she was could very well mean death. It was as though a shroud had been lifted from her face- she was in danger. Slowly, sure that the other occupants of the room could hear her pattering heart; she inhaled, exhaling almost inaudibly. Fighting her paralyzing fear, she tried to inch back toward the door, something stopping her again as the boy spoke.
“I don’t have what you want. I wouldn’t give it to you if I did.”
The shopkeeper’s voice was low, raspy, and filled with a sort of menace. Chuckling in a way she could only see as cruel, the shopkeeper continued.
“Oh great Cobra, I know your real name. Too bad for you that I am in Cronos’s employment- and I know above all else that you are no longer.”
Cal dared to look around the corner again, the boy’s voice putting her in mind of a feral smile.
“I see. A new recruit, are you? A few weeks in it would seem. And, if that is the case…” The boy shimmered, and all over him colors moved, rearranged, until a boy with longer blond hair stood there, wearing a dark red hooded jacket, black pants, and brown boots. Cal could see a knife and a gun clipped to one boot. Clipped at his back was a scythe, and she could spy two other guns at his waist. He was also covered by tiny dime like circles, which he peeled off, revealing that they were connected, like a web. Faster than she could blink, he folded them together until they were around the size of a cell phone. He slid it into his pocket, taking a step closer to the shopkeeper, who sneered. The boy continued. “Then there is no need for disguises. Unfortunately, you are not as stupid as you look. But even you must know too, then, that if you say my name- I will kill you.”
A tense silence followed; Cal held her breath, half sure that they would hear.
“Now,” the boy continued, “Either you assist me with information, or you produce what I want. I can only promise that I would be kinder than Cronos would be.”
The shopkeeper laughed again, and Cal felt her fear increase, knowing that the smart thing to do would be to leave now- but somehow she couldn’t make her body move.
“As usual,” The shopkeeper went on, “Cronos is several steps ahead. You came too late. I told him everything I knew. He knew you were coming. He always knows…”
“Fine then,” The boy spat, voice growing louder. “I gave you your chance. If you think that throwing around Cronos’s name will keep you safe, you’re more deluded than I had thought. If anything, it makes it even more certain that you will die.”
The shopkeeper’s voice too rose, almost hysterically- “On your own head be it! And I shall laugh with him when we rule this world and the next- as your body rots in a pit! You just couldn’t settle, could you? With all your morals and your sympathy, you couldn’t remain the deadly Cobra- and when I turn you to him I will get what you threw away tenfold! And you, you Cobra will lie dead and forgotten, your deeds will mean nothing because then, you’ll only be Tr-”
There was a clattering of boxes, loud scuffling and struggling gasps- daring to look, Cal saw the shopkeeper pinned to a wall, the boy’s hand on his throat. Her eyes widened, breathing halted at the scene before her.
“Whoops,” the boy breathed as the squirming man beneath his fingers began to turn blue, spluttering incoherently. “You almost said it. You have no right to say my name. Now, you die.” There was no regret in the boy’s voice.
Cal reacted instinctively as horror washed through her- drawing backward rapidly, her elbow smashed into a pile of boxes, all of which clattered to the ground. The scuffling immediately ceased, a loud thump echoing around the room as the shopkeeper fell to the floor, barely conscious. Not daring to look up, Cal tried to move again toward the door, crawling backward in a crabwalk, freezing as a voice called out to her- “Don’t move.” Footsteps came close, kicking over the boxes in front of her.
The shopkeeper spoke, out of breath, choking slightly, on his feet again.
“Looks like we have an audience, Cobra. Shall I do the honors of disposing of our trespasser?”
The boy snorted. “Good luck getting rid of her. Thanks for the diversion, Cass.”
Cal heard the shopkeeper’s feet moving backward. “Hydra?” The fear in his voice had increased.
“Yes.” The boy’s voice was conversational. “Want to see what happens when you try to cut off her head?”
The footsteps were coming again, and Cal felt a strong hand close around her upper arm. Still keeping her head down, Cal stifled a gasp as a low, smooth voice reached her ear- too quiet for all but her to hear.
“Say nothing. Stand, follow my lead and you don’t have to be involved.”
Chapter Two:
Chapter Two
Windows
“And since you know you cannot see yourself, so well as by reflection, I, your glass, will modestly discover to yourself, that of yourself which you yet know not of.”
-William Shakespeare
Cal nodded mutely, head down- for what choice did she have?
The boy pulled her to her feet, still gripping her arm. “Try to look fierce,” the boy whispered to her. There was no hand, but something in her heart, telling her that it was right. She nodded slightly, looking up. The shopkeeper, voice wheezing, scuttled closer, staring at her. She gathered her courage, curling her lip and glaring at him like she did at people that tried to gang up on her and Mary.
“Cronos’ promises are empty,” the boy said quietly, moving closer to the shopkeeper. “You should know that before you die.” He sprang forward.
It was faster than Cal could blink- she saw the fleeting moment of the shopkeeper’s fall before he lay crumpled on the ground, unconscious. Trickles of blood leaked from his scalp. The next second, the boy was at her arm again, hand wrapped securely around it.
Cal was frozen in shock, fear thudding in her veins. Why had she followed this boy? Was she loosing her mind to imagine a hand pushing her forward? That was the only explanation that made sense; she had imagined a hand, and had followed him for reasons she couldn’t begin to guess.
The boy sighed as he led Cal around to face the opposite direction.
“Cass’ll finish it…” He murmured to himself. His hand tightened upon Cal’s arm, pulling her along, none too gently, past the crumpled, but still living, body. Cal, head bent and eyes unfocused, found her feet slipping on the stone floor, a sticky red wetness coating the soles of her shoes.
An unwilling gasp escaped her lips, and without conscious thought, Cal drew herself closer to the boy that was leading her along. She felt his hand tighten ever so slightly, muscles tense and rigid. Chancing a glance at his profile, Cal could see that the set of his lips was grim.
They had reached the wall opposite of the shopkeeper- a maze of boxes still around them, though a door was not too far away.
The red stickiness was below her feet, but more dried out, peeling off the floor in flakes, then crumbling to dust. Bile rose in her throat- paranoia or not the substance was very likely blood. Cal could not hold in her terrified breathing. Everything seemed to have been thrown in her face- an attempted murder, sure to be finished later, talk of death and rule, this fear held beneath the surface- and blood coating the floor where she now walked. She had witnessed all of this, had spied on a dangerous meeting. A boy not much older than her, once called Cobra, whose name could not be spoken, a person, or being called Cronos, and an object under search- two powers against the other for reasons she could not even begin to suspect. Two dangerous, deadly players- and Cal had been fool enough to stumble on it all! And yet (nothing touched her back or her heart as she thought of this) this boy…
This boy had protected her, and had lied to keep her alive?
Or he did it so he could do the ‘honors’… Cal shuddered, trying to wrench her arm out of his grip. He only held on tighter, and she looked up at him with wild eyes. He shook his head slightly, still staring ahead. Cal gritted her teeth. She knew she was in no position to argue, but she hated this fear, not knowing what was going on, being led dumbly forward like a cow for slaughter.
Still, she made herself calm down. Maybe it was intuition, maybe it was instinct, but Cal knew somehow that this boy would not kill her.
Then again, she thought, remembering her imaginary hand, maybe it was just insanity.
The light, which was dim at best, seemed to sharpen as Cal focused on the wooden and cardboard boxes.
Stains of red wetness were dripping into the small pools on the floor.
Bile rose to her throat again as she seemed to know instinctively that the boxes contained no packaged cows or pigs. Cal futilely pulled at the hand around her arm again. The grip did not loosen.
“Quickly,” the boy said, pulling her along faster, Cal slipping on the blood. “Fuck,” the boy muttered. “This is getting a hell of a lot more complicated than I thought…”
Their footsteps echoed in the darkness, and she forced herself to calm down, though fear from the situation did not lessen.
Dirty hands pushed at the door to no avail- Cal found herself unbearably weak. The boy moved so that he was next to her, giving his own force to the door, which swung open with a loud creak.
She made to run toward the opening, when the boy’s hands caught her arms, and faster than she could gasp, he had pulled her outside, turned her around, and pinned her against a wall. Her head knocked back against the stone and she felt pain bloom across the back of her skull, her vision swimming.
“Tell me,” the boy said. “Who are you? How did you follow me?”
“I- I don’t know-”
“Tell me! More than your life depends on this!”
She struggled to form words. “I- I saw you. I just- just followed. Didn’t mean-I don’t know why-”
“You can’t be one of his, but I have to know how you followed me! Please!”
The word ‘please’ caught her attention, but still she didn’t know what else to say. “I don’t know how!” Cal tremblingly raised her face to meet his.
He froze, staring in wide-eyed surprise at the face of the girl looking up at him. He seemed unable to look away, awed almost, as he stared into her eyes.
Cal stared up at him, all feelings of fear and despair vanishing, something swooping low in her gut, as if she were falling.
She wasn’t sure how long she stared at him, but she realized that he no longer looked angry or frightening- just sad. Terribly sad, weighted down by the kind of terror that she had never known.
Reality crashed down upon her. She knew nothing of this boy. He had just shoved her up against a wall, and nearly killed a man. He had spoke of killing as if it were no bother, a routine. He could kill her at any moment. He was far stronger, far faster, than she was. It would be easy- equal to a cheetah chasing down a chipmunk.
“…Who are you?” She whispered.
The boy’s eyes darkened, and he turned away, releasing her shoulders.
She knelt, feeling cowardly and sick, on the ground. The silence stretched on, the boy standing with his back turned toward her.
Finally, he spoke, voice harsh- “My name is none of your concern.”
He whirled around, fists clenched at his sides as he strode to where Cal sat upon the ground. For a moment he hesitated, murmuring something that might have been “sorry”. He leaned over her, hands going toward her neck.
Cal had no time to scramble away as his hands found their target, and her world went black.
~-~-~-~-~-~-~
Her eyes fluttered, and opened. Weakly, she placed a hand to her temple, trying to place her confused thoughts. A voice swirled around her.
“…Yes, you heard me, boxes of bodies undoubtedly. Looks like Cronos has found another temporary disposal of his failed modified humans. The guy who owns the shop is a recent addition. Well have to be more careful. I can’t take care of it Cass. Could you and Alex…? Thanks, bring Marth if you can, but someone needs to keep an eye on things…Listen, something’s happened…”
Cal shook her head a few times, trying to peer through the dim light. The boy was standing again, back turned toward her, speaking into a small, silver cell phone.
“Someone…followed me. A girl, she spied on me talking to that guy, she saw me nearly kill him. She doesn’t work for anyone- innocent as I’ve ever seen…Just trust me on this one, okay! How the hell should I know?” The boy sighed, running his hand over his forehead. “Cass, she followed me without being detected- I didn’t know she was there till she knocked over some boxes…I’m not about to trust her with anything, Cass! She’s just some girl that was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I’m getting her home now.” He sighed again, this time in frustration. “I’ll tell you more about it later. One last thing- make sure Alex doesn’t- Thanks. Don’t do something stupid- I’ll see you all later…” There was a small beeping sound- the boy lowered the phone and turned around.
“Fuck,” he hissed, throwing something at the ground near Cal’s face- something sweet smelling that became a puff of smoke that left Cal dazed and confused, her thoughts swirling again, leaving her falling into oblivion…
Any yet, she found herself somewhat aware, she could feel strong arms pulling her up, feel someone walking, her body swaying, but it was as though she was a great distance away from it all, like she was watching a hazy movie, watching as a bright light engulfed her, watching as she was carried to a door, brought up the stairs and laid gently on her bed…
Cal felt like she was watching, as her eyes began to close, a boy with blue eyes standing over her, whispering apologies into her ear…
~-~-~-~-~-~
A clinking sound woke Cal from her dreamless sleep. Yawning, she rubbed her eyes, blinking to rid them of sleepiness- sitting bolt upright when her memories returned. Where was she? How long had she been sleeping? Glancing out her window, she saw that it was dusk, dark with clouds overhanging the sky.
“Shit!” Cal hissed, wincing, aware suddenly of the hurrying footsteps coming up her stairs. Whirling around so that she was facing the door, she saw her mother’s pale face, followed closely by her father and brother, as they ran up the stairs.
Upon catching sight of Cal sitting unharmed and bewildered on her bed, Lilliana gave a shriek and dived at her daughter, pulling her into a fierce hug. “Oh Cal,” Lilliana whispered, tears falling onto her daughter’s shoulder, “Oh Cal, thank goodness you’re okay!” Ian, teeth and fists clenched, leaned back against her wall, closing his eyes and breathing slowly.
Dai stood ashen-faced in the doorway, staring at his daughter for a moment before coming forward to embrace her. “My Aijou,” He murmured, “Cal, what happened?” At those words, Lilliana’s back stiffened, and she drew away from her daughter, standing up, eyes looking like sparking obsidian. Ian opened his eyes, standing straighter. Cal felt as though the room had suddenly been charged with electricity.
“What happened?! You just ran off, disappear for hours, and then we come home to find you here? Cal we thought you’d been kidnapped or worse!”
Cal fought another wince, opening her mouth to speak. “I’m so sorry mom. I felt really sick- I had to find a bathroom.” Cal’s hands clenched on her sheets. Sick. Mentally maybe, to imagine a hand pushing me. “But when I got there, I- I think I fainted. There was someone else in there with me- this girl I think goes to school. I woke up and she was standing over me. I wasn’t thinking straight; I just wanted to get home and rest. I’m sorry, I know I should have called.”
Ian sat down on their father’s side, his face pale. Her mother’s arms circled her shoulders, her father’s finding her waist.
Cal leaned her head against them, closing her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she said, and the words felt hollow. She wanted to sit there for hours, feeling safe and secure in the arms of her family. “I just…I think I want to rest for a while…”
Lilliana hesitated for a moment before saying, “I understand sweetheart. I’ll go call the doctor, and-”
“No!” Cal jerked, imagining a doctor claiming that she really was crazy.
“Cal,” Her father said quietly after a moment. “If this continues we will call a doctor with or without your permission.”
She nodded, and made herself smile. “Of course. I don’t want to be sick- I think I might have been dehydrated…I’ll let you know if I start feeling like that again.”
Lilliana bit her lip, and then she too smiled, pressing her hand lightly to Cal’s forehead. Why don’t I get you some water then, hun?” Kissing Cal’s forehead lightly, she stood, and walked through the door.
Cal buried her face in her dad’s shoulder, as she had not done since she was a child. Flashes of blood, the boy, the terrible smell, flashed through her, and she gripped him tighter. She felt Ian stand and sit by her, wrapping his own arms around her.
Lilliana returned, a glass of water in hand. “Here sweetie.” Cal accepted the glass gratefully, only just realizing how thirsty she was. With another kiss to her forehead and cheek respectively, her parents left the room.
Ian scooted to the edge of her bed, fiddling with the sheets.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked. Cal found herself able to actually smile, sliding next to him to ruffle his hair. “I’m fine, I promise. I just need to take it easy for a while, alright?” She leaned back, turning her head a little to one side. “I’ll see you at dinner, ‘kay?”
Ian cast her one last worried glance, before smiling a little. “Hai, Oneesan. See you down there.” He hugged her again.
She felt her smile grow. She and her mom were alike in taking an odd enjoyment in being addressed in various languages. Cal wasn’t sure how to describe it- but there was something undoubtedly cool about being called ‘older sister’ in two languages that she understood fairly well, though her brother was better at Japanese than she was. She’d never been particularly good with languages- in the school Spanish class she usually came away with C’s. Ian soaked up new languages like a sponge, writing codes and notes combining the two languages he knew, and others that he was learning by ear, or by looking up online or in books. Cal was quite honestly amazed at how much languages interested him- languages and flying. His room was decorated with various model airplanes, even spaceship toys from Star Wars and Star Trek. “See you down there, Otouto,” she agreed.
He grinned at her, and left.
Cal stood and shut the door behind him, sighing, blowing strands of hair out of her eyes, falling backward onto her mattress. It was unusual for her mom to let things go so easily. Cal wondered if she had somehow sensed the confusion that was running rampant through her brain. She closed her eyes, going over the memories of what had really happened after she left her family. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she was missing something- some important detail that would tie all the confusing events together.
How do I know that it wasn’t just a dream? Cal pondered this possibility. Other than the fact that the events seemed far too fantastical, too much like something she might see in a spy movie, Cal felt that she had succumbed to no dream, for the simple fact that it wasn’t like a movie. She counted out the facts in her head, trying to get it all to fit together, like an oversized puzzle.
Fact One, she thought, I followed a strange boy without any seeming reason.
Fact Two, I witnessed him nearly murder that old shopkeeper.
Fact Three, The boy and the shopkeeper argued, defying the other and speaking of another person, an ‘employer’ of sorts.
Fact Four, The boy was looking for something that the shopkeeper didn’t have, something that the ‘employer’, Cronos, had taken before the boy arrived.
Fact Five, The boy wouldn’t allow his name to be spoken, and when he realized the shopkeeper knew it, he was at perfect readiness to kill him.
“He probably would have killed him anyway,” Cal muttered, rolling over so that she was facing the window.
Fact Six, I walked, or rather crawled, in on something bigger than myself. Something dangerous. Something that I shouldn’t get involved in…
“….Do as I say and you don’t have to be involved…”
[/b]Windows
“And since you know you cannot see yourself, so well as by reflection, I, your glass, will modestly discover to yourself, that of yourself which you yet know not of.”
-William Shakespeare
Cal nodded mutely, head down- for what choice did she have?
The boy pulled her to her feet, still gripping her arm. “Try to look fierce,” the boy whispered to her. There was no hand, but something in her heart, telling her that it was right. She nodded slightly, looking up. The shopkeeper, voice wheezing, scuttled closer, staring at her. She gathered her courage, curling her lip and glaring at him like she did at people that tried to gang up on her and Mary.
“Cronos’ promises are empty,” the boy said quietly, moving closer to the shopkeeper. “You should know that before you die.” He sprang forward.
It was faster than Cal could blink- she saw the fleeting moment of the shopkeeper’s fall before he lay crumpled on the ground, unconscious. Trickles of blood leaked from his scalp. The next second, the boy was at her arm again, hand wrapped securely around it.
Cal was frozen in shock, fear thudding in her veins. Why had she followed this boy? Was she loosing her mind to imagine a hand pushing her forward? That was the only explanation that made sense; she had imagined a hand, and had followed him for reasons she couldn’t begin to guess.
The boy sighed as he led Cal around to face the opposite direction.
“Cass’ll finish it…” He murmured to himself. His hand tightened upon Cal’s arm, pulling her along, none too gently, past the crumpled, but still living, body. Cal, head bent and eyes unfocused, found her feet slipping on the stone floor, a sticky red wetness coating the soles of her shoes.
An unwilling gasp escaped her lips, and without conscious thought, Cal drew herself closer to the boy that was leading her along. She felt his hand tighten ever so slightly, muscles tense and rigid. Chancing a glance at his profile, Cal could see that the set of his lips was grim.
They had reached the wall opposite of the shopkeeper- a maze of boxes still around them, though a door was not too far away.
The red stickiness was below her feet, but more dried out, peeling off the floor in flakes, then crumbling to dust. Bile rose in her throat- paranoia or not the substance was very likely blood. Cal could not hold in her terrified breathing. Everything seemed to have been thrown in her face- an attempted murder, sure to be finished later, talk of death and rule, this fear held beneath the surface- and blood coating the floor where she now walked. She had witnessed all of this, had spied on a dangerous meeting. A boy not much older than her, once called Cobra, whose name could not be spoken, a person, or being called Cronos, and an object under search- two powers against the other for reasons she could not even begin to suspect. Two dangerous, deadly players- and Cal had been fool enough to stumble on it all! And yet (nothing touched her back or her heart as she thought of this) this boy…
This boy had protected her, and had lied to keep her alive?
Or he did it so he could do the ‘honors’… Cal shuddered, trying to wrench her arm out of his grip. He only held on tighter, and she looked up at him with wild eyes. He shook his head slightly, still staring ahead. Cal gritted her teeth. She knew she was in no position to argue, but she hated this fear, not knowing what was going on, being led dumbly forward like a cow for slaughter.
Still, she made herself calm down. Maybe it was intuition, maybe it was instinct, but Cal knew somehow that this boy would not kill her.
Then again, she thought, remembering her imaginary hand, maybe it was just insanity.
The light, which was dim at best, seemed to sharpen as Cal focused on the wooden and cardboard boxes.
Stains of red wetness were dripping into the small pools on the floor.
Bile rose to her throat again as she seemed to know instinctively that the boxes contained no packaged cows or pigs. Cal futilely pulled at the hand around her arm again. The grip did not loosen.
“Quickly,” the boy said, pulling her along faster, Cal slipping on the blood. “Fuck,” the boy muttered. “This is getting a hell of a lot more complicated than I thought…”
Their footsteps echoed in the darkness, and she forced herself to calm down, though fear from the situation did not lessen.
Dirty hands pushed at the door to no avail- Cal found herself unbearably weak. The boy moved so that he was next to her, giving his own force to the door, which swung open with a loud creak.
She made to run toward the opening, when the boy’s hands caught her arms, and faster than she could gasp, he had pulled her outside, turned her around, and pinned her against a wall. Her head knocked back against the stone and she felt pain bloom across the back of her skull, her vision swimming.
“Tell me,” the boy said. “Who are you? How did you follow me?”
“I- I don’t know-”
“Tell me! More than your life depends on this!”
She struggled to form words. “I- I saw you. I just- just followed. Didn’t mean-I don’t know why-”
“You can’t be one of his, but I have to know how you followed me! Please!”
The word ‘please’ caught her attention, but still she didn’t know what else to say. “I don’t know how!” Cal tremblingly raised her face to meet his.
He froze, staring in wide-eyed surprise at the face of the girl looking up at him. He seemed unable to look away, awed almost, as he stared into her eyes.
Cal stared up at him, all feelings of fear and despair vanishing, something swooping low in her gut, as if she were falling.
She wasn’t sure how long she stared at him, but she realized that he no longer looked angry or frightening- just sad. Terribly sad, weighted down by the kind of terror that she had never known.
Reality crashed down upon her. She knew nothing of this boy. He had just shoved her up against a wall, and nearly killed a man. He had spoke of killing as if it were no bother, a routine. He could kill her at any moment. He was far stronger, far faster, than she was. It would be easy- equal to a cheetah chasing down a chipmunk.
“…Who are you?” She whispered.
The boy’s eyes darkened, and he turned away, releasing her shoulders.
She knelt, feeling cowardly and sick, on the ground. The silence stretched on, the boy standing with his back turned toward her.
Finally, he spoke, voice harsh- “My name is none of your concern.”
He whirled around, fists clenched at his sides as he strode to where Cal sat upon the ground. For a moment he hesitated, murmuring something that might have been “sorry”. He leaned over her, hands going toward her neck.
Cal had no time to scramble away as his hands found their target, and her world went black.
~-~-~-~-~-~-~
Her eyes fluttered, and opened. Weakly, she placed a hand to her temple, trying to place her confused thoughts. A voice swirled around her.
“…Yes, you heard me, boxes of bodies undoubtedly. Looks like Cronos has found another temporary disposal of his failed modified humans. The guy who owns the shop is a recent addition. Well have to be more careful. I can’t take care of it Cass. Could you and Alex…? Thanks, bring Marth if you can, but someone needs to keep an eye on things…Listen, something’s happened…”
Cal shook her head a few times, trying to peer through the dim light. The boy was standing again, back turned toward her, speaking into a small, silver cell phone.
“Someone…followed me. A girl, she spied on me talking to that guy, she saw me nearly kill him. She doesn’t work for anyone- innocent as I’ve ever seen…Just trust me on this one, okay! How the hell should I know?” The boy sighed, running his hand over his forehead. “Cass, she followed me without being detected- I didn’t know she was there till she knocked over some boxes…I’m not about to trust her with anything, Cass! She’s just some girl that was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I’m getting her home now.” He sighed again, this time in frustration. “I’ll tell you more about it later. One last thing- make sure Alex doesn’t- Thanks. Don’t do something stupid- I’ll see you all later…” There was a small beeping sound- the boy lowered the phone and turned around.
“Fuck,” he hissed, throwing something at the ground near Cal’s face- something sweet smelling that became a puff of smoke that left Cal dazed and confused, her thoughts swirling again, leaving her falling into oblivion…
Any yet, she found herself somewhat aware, she could feel strong arms pulling her up, feel someone walking, her body swaying, but it was as though she was a great distance away from it all, like she was watching a hazy movie, watching as a bright light engulfed her, watching as she was carried to a door, brought up the stairs and laid gently on her bed…
Cal felt like she was watching, as her eyes began to close, a boy with blue eyes standing over her, whispering apologies into her ear…
~-~-~-~-~-~
A clinking sound woke Cal from her dreamless sleep. Yawning, she rubbed her eyes, blinking to rid them of sleepiness- sitting bolt upright when her memories returned. Where was she? How long had she been sleeping? Glancing out her window, she saw that it was dusk, dark with clouds overhanging the sky.
“Shit!” Cal hissed, wincing, aware suddenly of the hurrying footsteps coming up her stairs. Whirling around so that she was facing the door, she saw her mother’s pale face, followed closely by her father and brother, as they ran up the stairs.
Upon catching sight of Cal sitting unharmed and bewildered on her bed, Lilliana gave a shriek and dived at her daughter, pulling her into a fierce hug. “Oh Cal,” Lilliana whispered, tears falling onto her daughter’s shoulder, “Oh Cal, thank goodness you’re okay!” Ian, teeth and fists clenched, leaned back against her wall, closing his eyes and breathing slowly.
Dai stood ashen-faced in the doorway, staring at his daughter for a moment before coming forward to embrace her. “My Aijou,” He murmured, “Cal, what happened?” At those words, Lilliana’s back stiffened, and she drew away from her daughter, standing up, eyes looking like sparking obsidian. Ian opened his eyes, standing straighter. Cal felt as though the room had suddenly been charged with electricity.
“What happened?! You just ran off, disappear for hours, and then we come home to find you here? Cal we thought you’d been kidnapped or worse!”
Cal fought another wince, opening her mouth to speak. “I’m so sorry mom. I felt really sick- I had to find a bathroom.” Cal’s hands clenched on her sheets. Sick. Mentally maybe, to imagine a hand pushing me. “But when I got there, I- I think I fainted. There was someone else in there with me- this girl I think goes to school. I woke up and she was standing over me. I wasn’t thinking straight; I just wanted to get home and rest. I’m sorry, I know I should have called.”
Ian sat down on their father’s side, his face pale. Her mother’s arms circled her shoulders, her father’s finding her waist.
Cal leaned her head against them, closing her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she said, and the words felt hollow. She wanted to sit there for hours, feeling safe and secure in the arms of her family. “I just…I think I want to rest for a while…”
Lilliana hesitated for a moment before saying, “I understand sweetheart. I’ll go call the doctor, and-”
“No!” Cal jerked, imagining a doctor claiming that she really was crazy.
“Cal,” Her father said quietly after a moment. “If this continues we will call a doctor with or without your permission.”
She nodded, and made herself smile. “Of course. I don’t want to be sick- I think I might have been dehydrated…I’ll let you know if I start feeling like that again.”
Lilliana bit her lip, and then she too smiled, pressing her hand lightly to Cal’s forehead. Why don’t I get you some water then, hun?” Kissing Cal’s forehead lightly, she stood, and walked through the door.
Cal buried her face in her dad’s shoulder, as she had not done since she was a child. Flashes of blood, the boy, the terrible smell, flashed through her, and she gripped him tighter. She felt Ian stand and sit by her, wrapping his own arms around her.
Lilliana returned, a glass of water in hand. “Here sweetie.” Cal accepted the glass gratefully, only just realizing how thirsty she was. With another kiss to her forehead and cheek respectively, her parents left the room.
Ian scooted to the edge of her bed, fiddling with the sheets.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked. Cal found herself able to actually smile, sliding next to him to ruffle his hair. “I’m fine, I promise. I just need to take it easy for a while, alright?” She leaned back, turning her head a little to one side. “I’ll see you at dinner, ‘kay?”
Ian cast her one last worried glance, before smiling a little. “Hai, Oneesan. See you down there.” He hugged her again.
She felt her smile grow. She and her mom were alike in taking an odd enjoyment in being addressed in various languages. Cal wasn’t sure how to describe it- but there was something undoubtedly cool about being called ‘older sister’ in two languages that she understood fairly well, though her brother was better at Japanese than she was. She’d never been particularly good with languages- in the school Spanish class she usually came away with C’s. Ian soaked up new languages like a sponge, writing codes and notes combining the two languages he knew, and others that he was learning by ear, or by looking up online or in books. Cal was quite honestly amazed at how much languages interested him- languages and flying. His room was decorated with various model airplanes, even spaceship toys from Star Wars and Star Trek. “See you down there, Otouto,” she agreed.
He grinned at her, and left.
Cal stood and shut the door behind him, sighing, blowing strands of hair out of her eyes, falling backward onto her mattress. It was unusual for her mom to let things go so easily. Cal wondered if she had somehow sensed the confusion that was running rampant through her brain. She closed her eyes, going over the memories of what had really happened after she left her family. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she was missing something- some important detail that would tie all the confusing events together.
How do I know that it wasn’t just a dream? Cal pondered this possibility. Other than the fact that the events seemed far too fantastical, too much like something she might see in a spy movie, Cal felt that she had succumbed to no dream, for the simple fact that it wasn’t like a movie. She counted out the facts in her head, trying to get it all to fit together, like an oversized puzzle.
Fact One, she thought, I followed a strange boy without any seeming reason.
Fact Two, I witnessed him nearly murder that old shopkeeper.
Fact Three, The boy and the shopkeeper argued, defying the other and speaking of another person, an ‘employer’ of sorts.
Fact Four, The boy was looking for something that the shopkeeper didn’t have, something that the ‘employer’, Cronos, had taken before the boy arrived.
Fact Five, The boy wouldn’t allow his name to be spoken, and when he realized the shopkeeper knew it, he was at perfect readiness to kill him.
“He probably would have killed him anyway,” Cal muttered, rolling over so that she was facing the window.
Fact Six, I walked, or rather crawled, in on something bigger than myself. Something dangerous. Something that I shouldn’t get involved in…
“….Do as I say and you don’t have to be involved…”
They boy’s words tumbled form her mind. He had said those things, kept her close, so…
Fact Seven, This boy prevented the shopkeeper from doing me harm, lying so that I would not die.
Fact Eight, he did not commit murder in front of me.
And most importantly…
Fact Nine, He brought me back to my house, unharmed.
The window, which was very slightly open, showed her the world. Cal had long stared out her window, thinking that it showed her the world in a way that nothing else could. Her street, the people walking so ignorant along their daily lives, and yet- how was she any different? Many knew of the problems that their world faced, and what did she, or any of them, do to change it? The answer was frightening: They did nothing. They were more content to lead their lives with ignorance, not fueling the bad by not contributing to it. A wry thought came to Cal’s mind as she stood, and began walking toward her door:
So I suppose the issue is not if I should be involved, but if I want to be…
“She’s not telling the truth, Lilliana.”
Cal froze on the top of the stairs; hand on the railing, listening to her parent’s whispered conversation. Below, she could hear the sounds of her brother rifling through the pantry.
“…I know.”
Inching around the corner, Cal saw her father, his back toward her, Lilliana sitting in front of their mirror, brushing her hair, with a look that showed she needed something to do with her hands.
“…’Ana, koishii, ” he took a deep breath. “Whatever happened, she doesn’t want us to know about it.” Dai placed his hands lightly upon his wife’s shoulders.
Her mom paused, brush halfway down a thick bit of hair. “I know. Why, do you think?”
Her husband shrugged. “Whatever she was doing, we have to trust her to tell us about it when and if she is ready.” He bent forward, placing his lips on top of his wife’s head.
Lilliana looked up at him, frowning. “I don’t like letting this lie, Dai. Though you might be right, I don’t feel comfortable not asking her about it. Perhaps she will come around and tell us, but her holding it in is not going to help anyone.” She sighed. “But you’re probably right. You can read her better than I can.”
Dai shook his head, running callused fingers through his wife’s long hair. “You read her just as well as I do. Better, sometimes. And I think that makes her a little uncomfortable.” His voice was a murmur and he wrapped his arms around her.
Lilliana exhaled, bringing her hands up to clasp his arms. “I don’t know. Often I’m not sure that I know her anymore. Even when we’re doing things, or on the same sync, parts of her still seem so foreign to me…”
“She probably feels a bit foreign to herself.” Dai kissed her head again. “Things are changing in ways that are going to be hard for her to understand. But she’s handling it pretty well. She loves you, very much.”
Lilliana gave a faint smile. “I know she does.” Cal’s mom paused, fingers running down her husband’s arm. “She’ll be okay, don’t you think? She’ll get through whatever’s in store for her.”
“I haven’t a doubt in my mind.”
Cal backed away from the wall, from her parents and their words. She loved her family. She loved spending time with them, and it wasn’t her intention to alienate them in any way, to make her mother feel as though she didn’t understand her own daughter…
I won’t do that anymore, she vowed, balling her hand into a fist. From now on she would be their daughter alone, nothing else. She would forget about the boy and what she had seen and heard, and go back to her life. It was a promise, one she would not break.
But, as with all self-sacrifices, it was easier said than done.
[/spoiler]
Aaaand chapter three, where *cue music* the plot thickens!
Chapter Three
The Hunt
"Some innocents 'scape not the thunderbolt"
William Shakespeare
Cal woke up. She brushed her teeth, ate breakfast, read a book, and did her chores. She talked with her family. She taught her brother how to cartwheel, and in turn he attempted too teach her how to throw a football. She played a video game with him, actually beating him a few times. Her father tried, once again, to teach her how to cook, but she had nearly caught herself on fire, even with his careful guidance. Sitting together on the porch, Cal and her mother drew together. Her mother was better at drawing people and objects, but Cal was pretty good at landscapes. Sometimes, she helped her mother with designs for a bracelet that she was working on, sketching out her ideas in her old sketchbook. She lived normally, wonderfully, blessedly, normally, trying not to think about the boy with the blue eyes.
But at night, lying alone in bed, or at school during a class when she was staring dazedly out the window, Cal could not keep her thoughts in check. Only a week had passed, but it was still a challenge not to think of him. The thoughts seemed to attack without warning, poking through her defenses like a pencil stabbing through tissue paper. Questions and wonderings assaulted her mind.
Did the boy go back to ‘finish’ the shopkeeper?
Was he still in the city?
Had he done something about the boxes?
What was his name?
Would she ever see him again?
And why- why had he kept her alive? What was the purpose of that? Hadn’t she seen and heard too much?
And hadn’t she promised herself that she would forget about what she saw?
Cal sighed, fingers massaging her temples, leaning a little more over the hard desk, the sound of scratching pencils surrounding her.
“Cal? Is something wrong?” A voice whispered in her ear.
Cal blinked, and jerked upright. The teacher glanced up from her desk, and then went back to work. The bell was just about to ring, and most students were working on the assignment she’d given. Cal was almost done, and had dazed off, calculator in hand. She turned and shook her head, smiling a little at her best friend, Mary. Mary’s light brown eyes were worried, and her blonde eyebrows pulled together over her thin-frame glasses.
“I’m fine,” Cal whispered back. “I’m just really tired.” The lie wriggled in her uncomfortably, but she made herself smile. If she were to tell anyone, school was not the place to do it.
Mary looked at her shrewdly. “Class is over in five minutes, then its lunch. We’ll talk more there, alright?” Her tone bode no room for argument.
“Seriously,” Cal insisted. “I’m fine.” Mary looked doubtful, and raised her eyebrows. “If you don’t want to talk about it, its fine,” She said at last. “We can talk about whatever you want to talk about. Like Baylee Michaels flirting with the sub last period, even though he’s about fifty.”
Cal snorted. “Baylee is an attention whore, not a whore in general. I think.” She made a face, and went on, “Everything is fine, really. But thanks, in any case.”
Mary shook her head. “Whatever you say.” The bell rang shrilly, and everyone jumped up from their seats, rushing toward the door. ‘Foooooooooooooooood’ was their collective thought, judging by the looks on their faces, like zombies that had been deprived of ‘supplement’ for weeks.
Mary was bent over in her desk, untangling her bag from the chair. Her hair was up in a high ponytail, curly blonde ringlets that had escaped the tie falling into her face. She wiped them away with her hand and stood, smoothing her shirt and jeans. Cal smiled. Mary was very pretty, even with her glasses and freckles. Not gorgeous, but the kind of beauty that made you look twice. She’d had a couple of boyfriends- only one of them serious- and was six months older than Cal. She was wiry and a few inches taller than Cal too, built for athletics. Cal was curvier, meatier and taller than most of the girls in her gymnastics class. However, she knew she was in good shape, and though not the best in her class, she was good all the same.
As they started walking, Cal couldn’t help but be a little exasperated. “Stop doing that,” She said, grabbing Mary’s hand and pulling it away from her mouth. She always bit her nails whenever she was thinking, a bad habit that was slowly reducing her fingernails to stubs, because, unfortunately for her fingers, she was quite smart.
Mary groaned. “I know, I know! But I don’t even think about it, I just start doing it…” She waved her hand helplessly. “I try and tell myself how disgusting it is- mean, I’m ripping parts of myself off with my teeth! Not to mention all the miniscule organisms that I’m devouring. But the next thing I know, I’m doing it again!” Her hands fluttered like hummingbirds to emphasize her point.
Mary always seemed bouncy, even at her most competitive, and like she forever had something to say. Cal knew this was partly due to the nasty divorce Mary’s parents had gone through a few years ago. Her mom had been an alcoholic, and through all the fights, the screaming and yelling, even the occasional smacks around the face, Mary had started feeling that she couldn’t say anything anymore, without bad repercussions. Cal understood- she’d been there when her mother had snapped, over something silly and innocuous. She’d been there, and had helped Mary to fight off her own mother, until the police and Mary’s father came home. After the divorce case had been settled, her dad- a man with Mary’s eye color and nose shape, as well as her general cheerful and competitive nature -was given custody. Cal didn’t hear about Mary’s mom often, though she knew that Mary hadn’t gotten any sort of contact from her in nearly two years. All those early years of silence, (or ‘mugon’ as Mary liked to call it. Cal’s dad had told her that it was the Japanese word for silence, and she had taken to it rather well. She didn’t know many other Japanese words) seemed to have reversed, resulting in Mary talking a lot, to where strangers, or teachers, sometimes found it hard to get a word in around her. But Cal knew better. All Mary really wanted was to be heard, and Cal didn’t think that that as too much to ask for, though she admitted to being just slightly biased. Cal smiled. Mary would make a hell of a scientific journalist someday, with all the questions she asked. Cal knew, too, that despite how often she chattered, Mary did know how to listen. She had listened to Cal rant often enough about her little brother, or some girl in school, being stared at by a creepy old man at the coffee place she used to work. Mary always listened, like Cal did for her.
“Maybe you should get false nails,” Cal suggested.
Mary made a face. “Those things are so annoying. Although they would be helpful in soccer practice…” She trailed off, looking thoughtful.
Cal laughed. “Isn’t that against the rules? Clawing at someone with your fingernails?”
“Only if the ref calls it.” Mary looked at her fingernails, turning her hand over and nodding, a smile on her face. “I like that idea. You’re a genius.”
Cal shook her head. “Great, now I’m an accomplice to assault.”
Mary giggled. “Won’t look too good when you try to become a lawyer, will it? Come on, we’d better hurry, or all the tables outside will be taken.”
They made their way to the cafeteria, stopping in their tracks as they pushed open the door to go outside. Underneath the outdoor roof, tables were grouped, each attached to dark blue benches of the same color. However, the color could hardly be seen- every table was packed with people. Some were nearly falling out of their seats, others sitting actually on the table. Just beyond the outdoor roof, it was raining softly, a few groups of people sitting out on the grass, their hoods up.
“There’s a spot by those trees,” Cal pointed to three trees, which outlined a man-made pond that never seemed to be more than partway full, no matter when she looked at it. They jogged across the grass, small bits of water flying up around their ankles from the wet grass, lunches tucked under their slightly hunched torsos. They stopped, and settled under the trees. Mary sat with her back to the school and all the people at the tables, sitting cross-legged beside a small boulder that was next to the dry pond. Cal sat in front of the biggest tree, her legs out in front of her, facing the school and the other people.
Mary unloaded her lunch with a speculative look on her face. “A banana and peanut butter, a turkey sandwich, and the last of those cookies from the dough we sold for soccer. What do you have?”
Cal looked in her bag, unloading the items. “Um, I think my dad said- ah, yep. Udon. With broccoli, carrots, and some other vegetables. Tomorrow is sushi I think, and then after that it’s Yakitori.” She hoped that they had containers large enough for the skewered chicken. She set the noodles on her lap, opening the lid, smiling. Much better than school lunch.
Mary shook her head. “You lunch is always so colorful. Me, I always have a turkey sandwich.” She smiled. “I’m starting to think that my dad has a strange fetish, because we always have the materials for them around the house.”
Cal laughed, and rolled her eyes. “I don’t see why you’re complaining. I always give you half of whatever I have.” She made a face. “I don’t know how you can eat so much.”
“A lifetime of turkey sandwiches will do that to you. I complain because of my gargantuan jealousy toward you for having a father that is also a professional chef, with his own restaurant to boot.” She grinned, and winked, taking a bite of the dreaded sandwich.
After chewing in silence for a few minutes, she said: “Hey, how did your mom’s meeting go? Was she given that raise?”
Cal, who had been thinking, once again, of the boy with blue eyes, jerked herself out of her thoughts. Her mouth turned down in a frown, and she felt bubbles of anger just waiting to burst again. “No. It’s ridiculous. Something about seniority.” Cal blew some hair out of her face.
Mary frowned in sympathy. “I’m sorry. That sucks. Your mom totally deserves a raise! She’s a great artist, and a fantastic teacher. I never understood why teachers get paid so little; it’s completely-” Cal stood up suddenly, lunch falling out of her lap. “Cal?” Mary stared at her with furrowed eyebrows.
Cal didn’t look at her, staring straight ahead, at the school and the people laughing, talking, walking around. She could have sworn that she had seen him, a flash of his face and his eyes, looking at her, before vanishing into the crowd-
“Cal? Is something wrong?” Mary looked up at her with worried eyes.
Cal stared at the school for another moment or two, than shook her head slowly, sitting back down. “No,” She said softly. “I just thought I saw something. It’s nothing.” She gave her friend a smile, and began picking up her lunch, feeling Mary’s eyes on her.
They finished their lunch, chatting a little less animatedly than before, Mary still watching her, eyebrows drawn together. When the bell rang, they parted for their separate classes, Cal feeling Mary watching her as she walked away.
She didn’t like people worrying over her, and she didn’t like giving them cause to worry. But how was she to explain what had happened? And how could they believe her, even if she did explain? She almost didn’t believe it herself. But she hated the looks on the other’s faces, concerned, and perhaps a bit hurt, knowing that Cal was hiding something. She had hoped that she would be better at keeping her troubling feelings a secret- apparently that wasn’t the case.
The rest of the day passed without incident. Though Debate class revived her a little, she still spent much of the day rather out of focus. When the final bell rang, Mary made her way to lacrosse practice, saying that she would see Cal tomorrow morning, to ride their bikes to school as they always did. There was no tension, but Cal would be surprised if Mary didn’t call her later to try and get more information out of her.
She looked up at the sky. Though it had stopped raining, there were still gray, rolling clouds above her. She slipped on her helmet, and pushed off on her bike, careful not to catch her jeans in the gears. Wind whipped at her face, braid flying behind her, and smacking her back when she slowed or stopped. Good thing I don’t have gymnastics today, she thought, fighting a yawn. I’d fall over before April could even get us started. Hope its not raining where her wedding is.
The ride took a good twenty minutes, and when she pulled into her driveway, she was surprised to see both of her parents’ cars there- her mother always seemed to be home before her, but her dad was usually at his restaurant. Frowning, and slightly worried, she took off her helmet, hanging it on the handlebar of her bike, which she leaned up against the side of the house. “Mom?” She called, jogging up the steps on the porch, “Dad?” Cal swung the door open, skidding to a stop inside. Her mother blinked at her from the hallway, peering around the side, an eyebrow raised.
“What is it, Cal?”
“Why’s dad’s car here?”
“Oh.” Her mom relaxed. “They had to close the restaurant today, remember? So they can finish fixing the ovens. He went over there to supervise for a while, but came back for lunch about an hour ago. He’s on the phone with someone at the restaurant right now, out back.” She disappeared behind the wall.
Cal did remember her father talking about that, and sighed, shaking her head. “Thanks,” She called to her mom, raising her voice a little so she could hear it from down the hall.
“No problem! We’re going to the store in a minute though. Want to come? You could drive.”
Cal considered it, and then shook her head, knowing her mom couldn’t see. “Thanks, but no. I…really ought to get started on my homework. And I’m pretty tired.”
“Alright, sweetheart, if you’re sure. Don’t forget to do the dishes, please.”
“Yeah, okaasan, I’m sure.” She smiled a little, imagining the way her mom’s face would light up, like it always did, when she was called that, and walked past the hallway, making her way up the stairs, backpack hanging off of one shoulder.
She slipped in her room, dropping her bag in one corner, stopping and slumping at the foot of her bed, legs over the side, facing her window. Days had passed, and Cal could not attempt to shake the experience from her head anymore. She had been a fool to try to do so. But just because she couldn’t help thinking about it, didn’t mean that she was going to obsess over it every second of the day.
Now that she would allow the thoughts to come forward unclouded, Cal was surprised to find that they slowed- and the questions all but ceased to come. Perhaps this would allow her to pursue them more clearly. She listened as downstairs, she could hear the sound of her father coming in from the back, and talking to her mom. Footsteps came to her next; her mother’s light ones, pausing as she slipped on shoes.
“Cal, hon, we’re leaving now.” Lilliana’s face appeared in the doorway, smiling gently. “Are you sure that you don’t want to come? It won’t be much fun stuck here by yourself for the day. I have to go pick up Ian from his party in a few hours, so we won’t be back for a while…”
Cal smiled faintly. “No, mom. I think Mary’s going to call soon, so I want to make sure I’m here for that. And I really am tired.”
Lilliana chuckled. “Too bad your cell phone is broken. Well, call us if you need anything.” She gave another small smile. “Love you. Goodbye.”
Cal smiled as well, and nodded. “Love you too.” She took a deep breath and bellowed- “Bye Dad! Love you!”
Her father’s reply carried faintly up the stairs, and her smile grew. Her mom, still chuckling, gave a slight wave, and left, her footsteps echoing as she went down the stairs.
Cal rolled over onto her stomach, elbows propped on her pillow, fists under her chin. She listened to her parents, talking about something that had happened on the news earlier, and about her aunt’s birthday that was coming up, and what would be good to get her, how actual Satanist missionaries had come to their house. The door closed with a snap, cutting off their conversation.
Before she really knew it, she was sleeping. Dreaming.
It was all so blurred. Voices, whispers, calling out. A need inside, a feeling of separation from something vital…but what? What were these missing pieces? What was this feeling? This feeling of helplessness- hope, and despair. A million voices echoed around- crying and laughing, screaming-
There had to be something that could be done...
Cal’s eyes snapped open.
Her heart thudded in her chest. She sat up, bringing her knees to her chest, breathing erratic. She felt terrified, and she didn’t know why. Cal closed her eyes and shuddered, jumping as a bolt of lightning flashed outside. Her neck prickled, and she wondered if a sound had woken her up. In the next second, she wondered if there was someone in her house. Under the cover of thunder, she gently pushed herself off of her bed. She swayed, nervousness keeping her balance from its peak. She took a deep breath, calming herself, walking silently, carefully, like she would on a balance beam. She inched along the floor, toward her closet.
Cal reached a blind hand in, grunting slightly in triumph as her fingers closed around the rubber covering of her old metal bat. She pulled it out, weighing the bat in her hands. Though softball hadn’t lasted, mostly due to a psychotic coach, she had kept the bat anyway. Cal had never thought that she would need it for something like this. She swung it around in her hand, paranoia telling her that even the swishing of air around the bat was too loud. Cal began to inch toward her door.
Cautiously, she peeked around the corners of her doorway. Assured that she could not see anything, Cal made her way to the stairs.
Her toes, covered only by socks, were supporting her weight. Her right hand gripped the banister, the left holding her bat in the air. Cal froze as the next stair let out a magnified creak. She dared not to breathe. After a moment, lightning flashed and thunder cracked again- and she moved once more.
Her feet touched the tiles at the foot of the stairs, feeling the cold even through her socks. Cal walked toward the kitchen, where she could see rain splashing against the sliding glass door. The potted plants on their various shelves seemed ominous in the dark. The pans and pots that hung still from the ceiling- she could have sworn that they were moving slightly, like someone had created a breeze by passing. Cal made her way around the kitchen isle, so that she was standing in front of the glass door. She peered into the shadowy storm, her back yard holding no danger or secrets. In the reflection, she could see the refrigerator, the stovetop, and her own pale face.
In the hallway, a shadow moved.
Cal whirled around, braid thunking against the glass as she stared at the entrance to the hall, where she had seen movement in the reflection. She stared at the darkness that seemed to grow tenfold in the moments that she stood there. Cal stepped forward.
Movement! She turned, bat whacking against the counter as a blur raced past her- glowing violet eyes flashing in the darkness. Her heart thumped in her breast, as she gave no thought, running for the hallway and the stairs.
More flashes of movement at her every side, chasing her, surrounding her. Something silver flashed in the sudden brightness from the lightning, as Cal made herself go into a roll on the ground, getting securely to her feet at the entrance to the hall. Her feet pattered on the tiles as she felt something shining fly toward her- missing her body and flying clean through her braid- cutting it off so that her hair fell to her shoulders and in front of her eyes.
Cal didn’t even waste a full thought on her cut hair; she flew up the stairs, feet thudding on the carpet now as she ran for her room. There were blurred black shapes flying all around her-violet eyes glaring unblinkingly and ominously. Cal threw herself into her room- slamming the door behind her and landing on her knees. Slowly, she lifted her head.
Dark, humanoid shapes surrounded her- violet eyes glaring unblinkingly from the darkness. She was surrounded.
Flashes of movement- Cal swung her bat blindly, feeling it impact with something that seemed harder than stone- a clang rang out through the room as the thing she had hit in the head skidded backwards with the force of her smack, not even fazed, staring at her like a lioness waiting for the opportune moment to strike. Cal knew, with horrified realization that there was no way she was being hunted by humans.
A strange screeching noise came from the creatures as they stared at her. Fear engulfed Cal’s chest- she would not be able to hold all of them off.
She blinked, hopelessness stealing through her, but before she could even open her eyes-
Grunts, clangs, and the sound of metal hitting metal met her ears. Her eyes flashed open- gaping at the sight of the crumpled and twitc;/l.hing creatures- violet eyes staring listlessly in a frozen gaze as they lay on the ground.
A person knelt in the ring of creatures, the faint light from outside illuminating his silhouette. Slowly, he raised his head to gaze upon her with striking blue- and familiar- eyes. He stood, the blade of his scythe flashing.
“Well,” he murmured, his eyes like ice as he stared at the fallen creatures around him. “It looks like you’re involved after all.”
The Hunt
"Some innocents 'scape not the thunderbolt"
William Shakespeare
Cal woke up. She brushed her teeth, ate breakfast, read a book, and did her chores. She talked with her family. She taught her brother how to cartwheel, and in turn he attempted too teach her how to throw a football. She played a video game with him, actually beating him a few times. Her father tried, once again, to teach her how to cook, but she had nearly caught herself on fire, even with his careful guidance. Sitting together on the porch, Cal and her mother drew together. Her mother was better at drawing people and objects, but Cal was pretty good at landscapes. Sometimes, she helped her mother with designs for a bracelet that she was working on, sketching out her ideas in her old sketchbook. She lived normally, wonderfully, blessedly, normally, trying not to think about the boy with the blue eyes.
But at night, lying alone in bed, or at school during a class when she was staring dazedly out the window, Cal could not keep her thoughts in check. Only a week had passed, but it was still a challenge not to think of him. The thoughts seemed to attack without warning, poking through her defenses like a pencil stabbing through tissue paper. Questions and wonderings assaulted her mind.
Did the boy go back to ‘finish’ the shopkeeper?
Was he still in the city?
Had he done something about the boxes?
What was his name?
Would she ever see him again?
And why- why had he kept her alive? What was the purpose of that? Hadn’t she seen and heard too much?
And hadn’t she promised herself that she would forget about what she saw?
Cal sighed, fingers massaging her temples, leaning a little more over the hard desk, the sound of scratching pencils surrounding her.
“Cal? Is something wrong?” A voice whispered in her ear.
Cal blinked, and jerked upright. The teacher glanced up from her desk, and then went back to work. The bell was just about to ring, and most students were working on the assignment she’d given. Cal was almost done, and had dazed off, calculator in hand. She turned and shook her head, smiling a little at her best friend, Mary. Mary’s light brown eyes were worried, and her blonde eyebrows pulled together over her thin-frame glasses.
“I’m fine,” Cal whispered back. “I’m just really tired.” The lie wriggled in her uncomfortably, but she made herself smile. If she were to tell anyone, school was not the place to do it.
Mary looked at her shrewdly. “Class is over in five minutes, then its lunch. We’ll talk more there, alright?” Her tone bode no room for argument.
“Seriously,” Cal insisted. “I’m fine.” Mary looked doubtful, and raised her eyebrows. “If you don’t want to talk about it, its fine,” She said at last. “We can talk about whatever you want to talk about. Like Baylee Michaels flirting with the sub last period, even though he’s about fifty.”
Cal snorted. “Baylee is an attention whore, not a whore in general. I think.” She made a face, and went on, “Everything is fine, really. But thanks, in any case.”
Mary shook her head. “Whatever you say.” The bell rang shrilly, and everyone jumped up from their seats, rushing toward the door. ‘Foooooooooooooooood’ was their collective thought, judging by the looks on their faces, like zombies that had been deprived of ‘supplement’ for weeks.
Mary was bent over in her desk, untangling her bag from the chair. Her hair was up in a high ponytail, curly blonde ringlets that had escaped the tie falling into her face. She wiped them away with her hand and stood, smoothing her shirt and jeans. Cal smiled. Mary was very pretty, even with her glasses and freckles. Not gorgeous, but the kind of beauty that made you look twice. She’d had a couple of boyfriends- only one of them serious- and was six months older than Cal. She was wiry and a few inches taller than Cal too, built for athletics. Cal was curvier, meatier and taller than most of the girls in her gymnastics class. However, she knew she was in good shape, and though not the best in her class, she was good all the same.
As they started walking, Cal couldn’t help but be a little exasperated. “Stop doing that,” She said, grabbing Mary’s hand and pulling it away from her mouth. She always bit her nails whenever she was thinking, a bad habit that was slowly reducing her fingernails to stubs, because, unfortunately for her fingers, she was quite smart.
Mary groaned. “I know, I know! But I don’t even think about it, I just start doing it…” She waved her hand helplessly. “I try and tell myself how disgusting it is- mean, I’m ripping parts of myself off with my teeth! Not to mention all the miniscule organisms that I’m devouring. But the next thing I know, I’m doing it again!” Her hands fluttered like hummingbirds to emphasize her point.
Mary always seemed bouncy, even at her most competitive, and like she forever had something to say. Cal knew this was partly due to the nasty divorce Mary’s parents had gone through a few years ago. Her mom had been an alcoholic, and through all the fights, the screaming and yelling, even the occasional smacks around the face, Mary had started feeling that she couldn’t say anything anymore, without bad repercussions. Cal understood- she’d been there when her mother had snapped, over something silly and innocuous. She’d been there, and had helped Mary to fight off her own mother, until the police and Mary’s father came home. After the divorce case had been settled, her dad- a man with Mary’s eye color and nose shape, as well as her general cheerful and competitive nature -was given custody. Cal didn’t hear about Mary’s mom often, though she knew that Mary hadn’t gotten any sort of contact from her in nearly two years. All those early years of silence, (or ‘mugon’ as Mary liked to call it. Cal’s dad had told her that it was the Japanese word for silence, and she had taken to it rather well. She didn’t know many other Japanese words) seemed to have reversed, resulting in Mary talking a lot, to where strangers, or teachers, sometimes found it hard to get a word in around her. But Cal knew better. All Mary really wanted was to be heard, and Cal didn’t think that that as too much to ask for, though she admitted to being just slightly biased. Cal smiled. Mary would make a hell of a scientific journalist someday, with all the questions she asked. Cal knew, too, that despite how often she chattered, Mary did know how to listen. She had listened to Cal rant often enough about her little brother, or some girl in school, being stared at by a creepy old man at the coffee place she used to work. Mary always listened, like Cal did for her.
“Maybe you should get false nails,” Cal suggested.
Mary made a face. “Those things are so annoying. Although they would be helpful in soccer practice…” She trailed off, looking thoughtful.
Cal laughed. “Isn’t that against the rules? Clawing at someone with your fingernails?”
“Only if the ref calls it.” Mary looked at her fingernails, turning her hand over and nodding, a smile on her face. “I like that idea. You’re a genius.”
Cal shook her head. “Great, now I’m an accomplice to assault.”
Mary giggled. “Won’t look too good when you try to become a lawyer, will it? Come on, we’d better hurry, or all the tables outside will be taken.”
They made their way to the cafeteria, stopping in their tracks as they pushed open the door to go outside. Underneath the outdoor roof, tables were grouped, each attached to dark blue benches of the same color. However, the color could hardly be seen- every table was packed with people. Some were nearly falling out of their seats, others sitting actually on the table. Just beyond the outdoor roof, it was raining softly, a few groups of people sitting out on the grass, their hoods up.
“There’s a spot by those trees,” Cal pointed to three trees, which outlined a man-made pond that never seemed to be more than partway full, no matter when she looked at it. They jogged across the grass, small bits of water flying up around their ankles from the wet grass, lunches tucked under their slightly hunched torsos. They stopped, and settled under the trees. Mary sat with her back to the school and all the people at the tables, sitting cross-legged beside a small boulder that was next to the dry pond. Cal sat in front of the biggest tree, her legs out in front of her, facing the school and the other people.
Mary unloaded her lunch with a speculative look on her face. “A banana and peanut butter, a turkey sandwich, and the last of those cookies from the dough we sold for soccer. What do you have?”
Cal looked in her bag, unloading the items. “Um, I think my dad said- ah, yep. Udon. With broccoli, carrots, and some other vegetables. Tomorrow is sushi I think, and then after that it’s Yakitori.” She hoped that they had containers large enough for the skewered chicken. She set the noodles on her lap, opening the lid, smiling. Much better than school lunch.
Mary shook her head. “You lunch is always so colorful. Me, I always have a turkey sandwich.” She smiled. “I’m starting to think that my dad has a strange fetish, because we always have the materials for them around the house.”
Cal laughed, and rolled her eyes. “I don’t see why you’re complaining. I always give you half of whatever I have.” She made a face. “I don’t know how you can eat so much.”
“A lifetime of turkey sandwiches will do that to you. I complain because of my gargantuan jealousy toward you for having a father that is also a professional chef, with his own restaurant to boot.” She grinned, and winked, taking a bite of the dreaded sandwich.
After chewing in silence for a few minutes, she said: “Hey, how did your mom’s meeting go? Was she given that raise?”
Cal, who had been thinking, once again, of the boy with blue eyes, jerked herself out of her thoughts. Her mouth turned down in a frown, and she felt bubbles of anger just waiting to burst again. “No. It’s ridiculous. Something about seniority.” Cal blew some hair out of her face.
Mary frowned in sympathy. “I’m sorry. That sucks. Your mom totally deserves a raise! She’s a great artist, and a fantastic teacher. I never understood why teachers get paid so little; it’s completely-” Cal stood up suddenly, lunch falling out of her lap. “Cal?” Mary stared at her with furrowed eyebrows.
Cal didn’t look at her, staring straight ahead, at the school and the people laughing, talking, walking around. She could have sworn that she had seen him, a flash of his face and his eyes, looking at her, before vanishing into the crowd-
“Cal? Is something wrong?” Mary looked up at her with worried eyes.
Cal stared at the school for another moment or two, than shook her head slowly, sitting back down. “No,” She said softly. “I just thought I saw something. It’s nothing.” She gave her friend a smile, and began picking up her lunch, feeling Mary’s eyes on her.
They finished their lunch, chatting a little less animatedly than before, Mary still watching her, eyebrows drawn together. When the bell rang, they parted for their separate classes, Cal feeling Mary watching her as she walked away.
She didn’t like people worrying over her, and she didn’t like giving them cause to worry. But how was she to explain what had happened? And how could they believe her, even if she did explain? She almost didn’t believe it herself. But she hated the looks on the other’s faces, concerned, and perhaps a bit hurt, knowing that Cal was hiding something. She had hoped that she would be better at keeping her troubling feelings a secret- apparently that wasn’t the case.
The rest of the day passed without incident. Though Debate class revived her a little, she still spent much of the day rather out of focus. When the final bell rang, Mary made her way to lacrosse practice, saying that she would see Cal tomorrow morning, to ride their bikes to school as they always did. There was no tension, but Cal would be surprised if Mary didn’t call her later to try and get more information out of her.
She looked up at the sky. Though it had stopped raining, there were still gray, rolling clouds above her. She slipped on her helmet, and pushed off on her bike, careful not to catch her jeans in the gears. Wind whipped at her face, braid flying behind her, and smacking her back when she slowed or stopped. Good thing I don’t have gymnastics today, she thought, fighting a yawn. I’d fall over before April could even get us started. Hope its not raining where her wedding is.
The ride took a good twenty minutes, and when she pulled into her driveway, she was surprised to see both of her parents’ cars there- her mother always seemed to be home before her, but her dad was usually at his restaurant. Frowning, and slightly worried, she took off her helmet, hanging it on the handlebar of her bike, which she leaned up against the side of the house. “Mom?” She called, jogging up the steps on the porch, “Dad?” Cal swung the door open, skidding to a stop inside. Her mother blinked at her from the hallway, peering around the side, an eyebrow raised.
“What is it, Cal?”
“Why’s dad’s car here?”
“Oh.” Her mom relaxed. “They had to close the restaurant today, remember? So they can finish fixing the ovens. He went over there to supervise for a while, but came back for lunch about an hour ago. He’s on the phone with someone at the restaurant right now, out back.” She disappeared behind the wall.
Cal did remember her father talking about that, and sighed, shaking her head. “Thanks,” She called to her mom, raising her voice a little so she could hear it from down the hall.
“No problem! We’re going to the store in a minute though. Want to come? You could drive.”
Cal considered it, and then shook her head, knowing her mom couldn’t see. “Thanks, but no. I…really ought to get started on my homework. And I’m pretty tired.”
“Alright, sweetheart, if you’re sure. Don’t forget to do the dishes, please.”
“Yeah, okaasan, I’m sure.” She smiled a little, imagining the way her mom’s face would light up, like it always did, when she was called that, and walked past the hallway, making her way up the stairs, backpack hanging off of one shoulder.
She slipped in her room, dropping her bag in one corner, stopping and slumping at the foot of her bed, legs over the side, facing her window. Days had passed, and Cal could not attempt to shake the experience from her head anymore. She had been a fool to try to do so. But just because she couldn’t help thinking about it, didn’t mean that she was going to obsess over it every second of the day.
Now that she would allow the thoughts to come forward unclouded, Cal was surprised to find that they slowed- and the questions all but ceased to come. Perhaps this would allow her to pursue them more clearly. She listened as downstairs, she could hear the sound of her father coming in from the back, and talking to her mom. Footsteps came to her next; her mother’s light ones, pausing as she slipped on shoes.
“Cal, hon, we’re leaving now.” Lilliana’s face appeared in the doorway, smiling gently. “Are you sure that you don’t want to come? It won’t be much fun stuck here by yourself for the day. I have to go pick up Ian from his party in a few hours, so we won’t be back for a while…”
Cal smiled faintly. “No, mom. I think Mary’s going to call soon, so I want to make sure I’m here for that. And I really am tired.”
Lilliana chuckled. “Too bad your cell phone is broken. Well, call us if you need anything.” She gave another small smile. “Love you. Goodbye.”
Cal smiled as well, and nodded. “Love you too.” She took a deep breath and bellowed- “Bye Dad! Love you!”
Her father’s reply carried faintly up the stairs, and her smile grew. Her mom, still chuckling, gave a slight wave, and left, her footsteps echoing as she went down the stairs.
Cal rolled over onto her stomach, elbows propped on her pillow, fists under her chin. She listened to her parents, talking about something that had happened on the news earlier, and about her aunt’s birthday that was coming up, and what would be good to get her, how actual Satanist missionaries had come to their house. The door closed with a snap, cutting off their conversation.
Before she really knew it, she was sleeping. Dreaming.
It was all so blurred. Voices, whispers, calling out. A need inside, a feeling of separation from something vital…but what? What were these missing pieces? What was this feeling? This feeling of helplessness- hope, and despair. A million voices echoed around- crying and laughing, screaming-
There had to be something that could be done...
Cal’s eyes snapped open.
Her heart thudded in her chest. She sat up, bringing her knees to her chest, breathing erratic. She felt terrified, and she didn’t know why. Cal closed her eyes and shuddered, jumping as a bolt of lightning flashed outside. Her neck prickled, and she wondered if a sound had woken her up. In the next second, she wondered if there was someone in her house. Under the cover of thunder, she gently pushed herself off of her bed. She swayed, nervousness keeping her balance from its peak. She took a deep breath, calming herself, walking silently, carefully, like she would on a balance beam. She inched along the floor, toward her closet.
Cal reached a blind hand in, grunting slightly in triumph as her fingers closed around the rubber covering of her old metal bat. She pulled it out, weighing the bat in her hands. Though softball hadn’t lasted, mostly due to a psychotic coach, she had kept the bat anyway. Cal had never thought that she would need it for something like this. She swung it around in her hand, paranoia telling her that even the swishing of air around the bat was too loud. Cal began to inch toward her door.
Cautiously, she peeked around the corners of her doorway. Assured that she could not see anything, Cal made her way to the stairs.
Her toes, covered only by socks, were supporting her weight. Her right hand gripped the banister, the left holding her bat in the air. Cal froze as the next stair let out a magnified creak. She dared not to breathe. After a moment, lightning flashed and thunder cracked again- and she moved once more.
Her feet touched the tiles at the foot of the stairs, feeling the cold even through her socks. Cal walked toward the kitchen, where she could see rain splashing against the sliding glass door. The potted plants on their various shelves seemed ominous in the dark. The pans and pots that hung still from the ceiling- she could have sworn that they were moving slightly, like someone had created a breeze by passing. Cal made her way around the kitchen isle, so that she was standing in front of the glass door. She peered into the shadowy storm, her back yard holding no danger or secrets. In the reflection, she could see the refrigerator, the stovetop, and her own pale face.
In the hallway, a shadow moved.
Cal whirled around, braid thunking against the glass as she stared at the entrance to the hall, where she had seen movement in the reflection. She stared at the darkness that seemed to grow tenfold in the moments that she stood there. Cal stepped forward.
Movement! She turned, bat whacking against the counter as a blur raced past her- glowing violet eyes flashing in the darkness. Her heart thumped in her breast, as she gave no thought, running for the hallway and the stairs.
More flashes of movement at her every side, chasing her, surrounding her. Something silver flashed in the sudden brightness from the lightning, as Cal made herself go into a roll on the ground, getting securely to her feet at the entrance to the hall. Her feet pattered on the tiles as she felt something shining fly toward her- missing her body and flying clean through her braid- cutting it off so that her hair fell to her shoulders and in front of her eyes.
Cal didn’t even waste a full thought on her cut hair; she flew up the stairs, feet thudding on the carpet now as she ran for her room. There were blurred black shapes flying all around her-violet eyes glaring unblinkingly and ominously. Cal threw herself into her room- slamming the door behind her and landing on her knees. Slowly, she lifted her head.
Dark, humanoid shapes surrounded her- violet eyes glaring unblinkingly from the darkness. She was surrounded.
Flashes of movement- Cal swung her bat blindly, feeling it impact with something that seemed harder than stone- a clang rang out through the room as the thing she had hit in the head skidded backwards with the force of her smack, not even fazed, staring at her like a lioness waiting for the opportune moment to strike. Cal knew, with horrified realization that there was no way she was being hunted by humans.
A strange screeching noise came from the creatures as they stared at her. Fear engulfed Cal’s chest- she would not be able to hold all of them off.
She blinked, hopelessness stealing through her, but before she could even open her eyes-
Grunts, clangs, and the sound of metal hitting metal met her ears. Her eyes flashed open- gaping at the sight of the crumpled and twitc;/l.hing creatures- violet eyes staring listlessly in a frozen gaze as they lay on the ground.
A person knelt in the ring of creatures, the faint light from outside illuminating his silhouette. Slowly, he raised his head to gaze upon her with striking blue- and familiar- eyes. He stood, the blade of his scythe flashing.
“Well,” he murmured, his eyes like ice as he stared at the fallen creatures around him. “It looks like you’re involved after all.”
Dashes and typos tend to be my biggest weakness, grammatically speaking. Its something I'm still working improving.