Shorts: Aquarius

Thousands of leagues under the Atlantic Ocean sat an ancient civilisation of merpeople, the kind you would only hear about in myth and legend. They lived in a vast city, stretching itself as far as the eye could see. The ancient city of Atlantis stood tall, in the centre a crystal palace posed proudly, watching over its people. The civilians were in full swing, preparing the city for the royal coronation of the young princess Aqua-marine.

It had been six years since a terrible incident broke the hearts of the entire city. The king and queen took a swim close to the dark depts. The city’s food had become scarce, supplies were rationed, yet this wasn’t enough. Many were fighting for their lives for weeks, other lost their battles every day. The dark depths were a forbidden part of the ocean, no mercreature was supposed to venture to. It gained its name from stories past down from generation to generation, however it was simply forbidden because it belonged to the humans. It was their fishing spot, and had been centuries, however it was the only place fish swam now.

Whilst the king and queen ventured into the dark depths, they were spotted by divers, who captured and harpooned them, ready to exhibit in their world. It was a cruel fate they had suffered, however the merpeople continued their lives, with hearts full of sorrow to protect themselves from the humans.

The king and queen had left their two daughters at the palace before leaving. Immediately Aqua-Marie imprisoned herself in her room when she learnt of her parents passing. She was fifteen, still a baby only just entering adulthood, she became deeply troubled and depressed, leaving her twelve year old sister, Coraline alone with no one but the palace staff to talk to.

Although six years passed not once did Aqua-Marie open her door, unless the palace maid cam to feed her. It was her prison, her shield, her tomb of comfort. Today was her coronation day, she was finally going to become queen. She awoke early, fixing her copper hair into a nice and precise bun. Aqua took a seat at her coral vanity, dipping a cloth in water and admired her beauty in the shell mirror.

“Oh mirror, tell me I’m beautiful,” she giggled as she washed her ruby tail scales.

In the mirror appeared the face of a shark, his grin widening with pearly whites.

“Princess Aqua-Marie, you are the most beautiful in this room,” he admired.

Aqua paused, looking up at the mirror, her face flushed red with anger as she stood up from her chair.

“Only in this room?” she questioned, the tone of her voice grew higher.

The shark look past her fury, continuing to smile, “Well your sister Coraline is the most beautiful in the kingdom.”

Shorts: Saviour #1

Saviour

The female guard looked like she was about to throw up, but instead she dropped to the floor like a sack of potatoes. I stood there, I laughed to myself. The male guard tried to life her up, taking her to the medication room. They had left their posts, now was my chance. I knocked down the sparkling glass door, it shattered into tiny pieces. But no one came running.

“You’re disobeying the rules, aren’t you?” asked a voice, it was like my father’s only with a much calmer tone.

“I don’t care about the rules!” I yelled, echoing voices entered the corridor.

The man laughed, smoothing his hair, “You are just like your father!” I looked away, then glared at him, “I am nothing like your cruel heartless brother!” I exclaimed, “I will ever be like him.” I leant against the hourglass.

“I have a quest for you, my young cannibal.”

“I am no cannibal.”

“No?” he joked, “But the way you drunk that blood…”

“Don’t remind me,” I demanded, shaking my head.

“This quest is simple, go undercover in the light kingdom.”

“Dressed like this?” I asked, “I’d be killed. That is not a risk I am willing to take.”

“I thought your life was all about taking risks, Kali?” he replied.

“I’ll do it,” I sighed coming away from the hourglass, “What exactly do I need to do?”

We walked to the portrait which hung at an angle on the wall, it was a painted portrait of the light and dark kingdoms’ war which had caused the feud. I pulled it off the wall, shocked to see a small silver leaver.

“What’s this?” I asked, confused at the sight of a silver leaver.

“You’re asking the obvious aren’t you?” he replied, looking shocked from my moment of stupidity, “Just pull the leaver!” I blinked at him, I decided to follow orders for once. I pulled hard on the leaver. Nothing happened. I looked at him, “It’s broken” my look was pure sarcasm.

“No, you’re just an idiot,” he smiled, baring fangs. It was unpleasant and unnecessary. The terribly painted walls split open, a welcoming scent of blood entered the air. The pupils of my uncle grew darker, deeper with more hate and a less friendly attitude towards me.

What had I done this time?

Shorts: River of Life

The beautiful turquoise skies slowly closed, hiding the smiling sun with a deeper shade. He sprinkled tiny glistening stars over his perfectly painting canvas, the peaceful but mysterious night’s sky. The land below yawned as he peeked up at his father’s work. It was too beautiful to ignore. The land fought with his desire, to dream once again tonight, lie in his watchful eyes. The grass never slept, he complained and moaned until the others were far from awakening. He moaned about the horrifying pain he would angrily receive daily, through being walked over, but he was no pushover. The oldest of the oak and maple trees, which were planted accurately at the edge of the town’s forest – often listened to him, while the younger trees bullied and tormented him cruelly. In the centre of the town lie a beautiful sparkling river. The river was named the ‘River of life’ after a twelve year old girl drowned in its waters. Before entering the clear glistening waters, a gorgeous young girl christened Amelia was just playing near the river, until a dirty unwelcome man to the town found her before her terrified parents could. The ignorant male brutally raped her that afternoon in the icy forest, he stabbed her in the chest twice and three times in her dry gasping throat. The murderer never buried her body at a risk of being found, so he decided it would be best if her body were to lie at the darkest bottom of the river. He attached his prison shackle ball, tightly fastening it around her tiny forearm. After he threw her body in the calm river, he watched her carefully, keeping special attention on keeping her out of sight. Once she sunk, he fled deep into the forest who kept his secret bottled with a torturing pain. At the edge of the river sat two beautiful young girls, both wearing the same short hemmed dress, with tiny doll-like shoes. The girls were separated by the colour of their hair, curious eyes and the short dresses they wore. The strawberry blonde gazed at her reflection in the crystal clear waters of the, river of life. Mother smiled, reflecting the young girls’ beauty. The dishwater blonde held a straw basket in her tiny hands. A tiny white mist appeared, lying on the surface of the river of life. The strawberry blonde stared curiously at the sparkling waters, the mist grew thicker gaining a colour. The dishwater blonde stood beside her, gazing at what was now a thick purple haze.

“What is that, Sandra?” the dishwater blonde choked as she asked the strawberry blonde.

The sister turned to look at her slowly, “I have no idea, Sally”.

Novel: Reaper’s Puppet (Chapter 2)

Chapter 2: Imprisoned

The prussian skies open. The deluge began. The trees opened their owns out wide, the warmth of the rain felt refreshing, after the cold darkness had fallen. Dull brown leaves became revitalised in the downpour, the colour returning to their cheeks. A derelict prison lie, hidden inside the dark forest. It stood alone, isolated from the world. Moss decorated the outside walls, ivy vines grew in the gaps of eroded bricks.

A small wooden carriage, drawn by three horses. The midnight black led his younger brothers, their hooves clomping through the thick mud. The carriage rattled over small bumps in the road. Commander Grey sat uncomfortably inside, resting his armored body against barely cushioned seats. He folded his arms, his legs crossed looking down at the floor. Beside him sat his second in command, Julian Jones, who stared anxiously out the window.

“Where are we going, Sir?” he asked puzzled with his surroundings.

Commander Grey sighed, “Why must you always ask stupid questions, Julian?” he queried. The young guard glared at his older colleague.

“It appears we are not following the usual route to the prison,” Julian commented.

Grey peered out the window, “That’s because we are not going to the usual place. A criminal as dangerous enough to murder her own mother, and spend fourteen years running from the law, such as Avalin Young will rot in this derelict prison for eternity.” Julian turned to face his commander, his opals widening in horror.

“But why this particular prison, Sir?” he asked sheepishly. Grey grunted, the corners of his lips turning up into a dark grin.

“For such disregard for the law, the girl must be punished. Where else would be better than an abandoned prison, hidden deep in this forest, to torture the outlaw. No one will hear her scream nor cry.”

Outside the carriage pulled to a sudden halt. The three brothers silenced their hooves, slowly catching their breath. Julian turned to his commander for guidance. Grey smiled, folding his arms across his chest, continuing his speech.

“This derelict prison has served as a torture chamber for thousands of years. Killing all captured enemies in warfare. This is where Avalin Young will live out the remainder of her life,” he chuckled sinisterly. Commander Grey stretched out his armored body, before kicking open the carriage door. Julian followed the commander outside the carriage.

The skies grew darker than a raven’s wing, thick grey clouds circled the bright moon. The large trees swayed in the fierce wind. Julian looked around at his surroundings, the eerie atmosphere sent chills down his spine.

He swallowed hard with fear, “This really is an abandoned forest,” he choked.

“Stop standing there catching flies, help move this body!” Grey yelled from the rear of the carriage.

A small cage was fastened to the back frame of the carriage, inside was a body curled up like a fetus. It had a slender build, clothed in ripped leather trousers, with a piece of suede covering its’ torso. Its’ feet had been stripped bare, with a heavy sack covering its’ face. The barely-breathing body lie there completely defenseless, heavily bound with rope.

“Is this?” Julian began, staring horrified at the body.

Grey chuckled, “Yes. This is the body of Avalin Young, the criminal I’ve been after her for fourteen years. Now I’ve finally caught her!” he dove into his pocket, pulling out a rusty keyring, three keys clang to the bronze hoop.

The Commander picked up the middle key, and threw it into the cage lock. He turned the key slowly into the lock, until it clicked. He pulled the cage door open.

“Julian,” Grey called.

“Yes, Sir?” he nodded in reply.

Commander Grey grabbed the prisoner by its’ bound arms. He turned to his second-in-command, “Grab the legs.”

Julian paused for a brief moment, “Why did I sign up for this?” he thought silently to himself, losing himself in his own thoughts.

“Julian!” Grey bellowed at the ignorant boy. He came back to his senses quickly.

“My apologises, Sir!” he saluted, picking up the legs of the criminal, who now laid on the dirty ground.

Julian stood frozen, Grey had wandered off again, leaving him to do his dirty work, like always.

“Hurry yourself, Julian. We don’t have all night!” Grey’s voice rung in the distance.

“Why is it always me?” Julian sighed as he hauled the bound body towards the Commander’s echoing voice.

Julian struggled lifting the body, instead he dragged it through the filthy ground. Suddenly the thick grey clouds began to cry. He found himself battling against the heavy winds and frozen tears. He was using all his strength, his armor ringing with sweat.

They reached a large derelict building, hiding deep in the heart of the forest. The walls were eroded, discoloured and cover with ivy vines snaking up the sides. All of the windows were completely scattered, and the surrounding fence had become completely rotten to the core. The sign above the opening, where a wooden door used to sit, was clinging on by its hinges, its paint barely eligible.

Commander Grey glared at the young soldier, his armored hands cupped up near his mouth. He casually lit a small cigarette with a match, snapping it in two and flicking it at Julian once he was finished. Julian stared at his commander unamused, his armor drenched in his own sweat.

“Oh Julian, you’re finally here,” Grey sighed, withdrawing the death stick from his chapped lips.

“Yes Sir, my apologises for taking longer than expected, but you see…” the young guard tried to explain. His commander peered down his nose at the boy, he blew a toxic cloud into his face. Julian coughed violently, collapsing to his armored knees as his lungs began to shrink. Commander Grey snatched his prize from his younger colleague by its’ bound torso.

“I don’t have time for your excuses, you are a disgrace to this force,” he snarled.

Grey spat his death stick at the young guard, “Bring the carriage to the door and ensure all the horses are tied down!” he demanded, kicking the boys’ shoulder, forcing him to the dirty ground.

The Commander stormed into the run-down building holding onto the captured criminal like a trash bag. He walked through the barely lit corridors, their ornate decor aged with mold and rust. Grey walked until he came to a well-lit room, inside several guards, dressed in similar attire to him. They sat at a large wooden tables with cards in their gloves.

“Is the cage prepared?” Grey called into the room.

One guard drew a death stick from his lips, “Everything is ready for the prisoner.”

Grey’s grin grew dark, “Excellent.” He left the room and continued down the corridor. The Commander pulled a large keyring from his pack, picking a small brass key from the mix. He threw the key into the rusty lock, turning it quickly. He kicked open the wooden door, and began descending a flight of stairs. The concrete steps coiled like a sleeping snake. The brick walls were eroded in places, with small foliage covering the cracks.

As the Commander ascended, the temperature began to drop. The chilly air sent shivers down his spine. At the end of the descent sat a stone hut, with large iron gates replacing the doors and windows. The metal was rusted to the core, but still had enough strength to detain any criminal. Two lanterns hung either side of the gate.

Grey dumped the girl onto the solid ground, before diving into his pocket for the keyring. He forced a tiny bronze key into the gates lock, turning it slowly. The mechanisms clicked, disconnecting, Grey left the key fixed in the lock as he picked the body up from the cold stone ground. He carried the criminal like rotten trash, throwing her to the cage floor. The sound of breaking bones echoed through the air. The Commander let a grin fall upon his lips. He bent don beside the barely breathing body, pulling a small silver dagger from his armored boot. He traced the seams of the cloth bag hugging the girls’ identity, with the blade. Grey ripped the bag open, allowing her to breathe, before attaching thick iron chains to her boney wrists. He quickly removed her muddy suede boots, replacing them with chains similar to those on her wrists. Commander Grey stood up, looking down his nose at the young girl, he felt a sigh of relief, he had captured the one criminal he had been hurting for eight years.

“I hope you will be very happy in your new home, Avalin, after all you will be here for eternity,” he grinned darkly. Grey left the cage, slamming the iron gate, the mechanisms locked together once more.

The barely breathing body lie, silent and still, dead to the world. Her pale skin covered in crimson stains around her freckled nose and peach lips. Her clothes were torn in places, the belts and scythe holsters had all been removed. The moonlight shone through the iron poles that replaced the only window. The light was a beautiful silver, that cast over the body of the young woman. Outside a shadow figure crept close to the eroded walls of the prison, until he reached Avalin’s cell. He peeked through the iron bars, blocking the gorgeous beam of light.

“There you are beautiful,” a grin appeared on his lips, as he gripped the iron bars. the figure shook the bars, in the hope they were loose, but had no luck. He sighed turning his back on the prison cell, leaning against the cold metal. The figure disappeared in a cloud of crimson smoke, leaking itself inside the prison. The smoke began to morph back into a human figure, the moonlight revealing its’ features. He was a male; roughly only five foot tall, wearing a long crimson trench coat which drowned his figure. The hood hugged his identity under the trench, he wore black trousers with thick leather boots.

Jonathan Beccles threw off his crimson hood, revealing his identity. He was young, roughly fifteen years old with piercing emerald eyes and curly ginger locks. He bend down beside the body of Avalin young, touching her white-blonde hair.

“Time to wake up, sleeping beauty,” Jonathan grinned, touching her soft pale skin.

Avalin’s brows frowned, her eyes fluttered open revealing her beautiful sapphires. She moved her bound hands up to her eye line, oblivious to the cuffs and chains. She struggling, wincing in pain as she forced her tired body to move into a sitting position. The young girl turned to face her new cell mate.

“Who are you?” she asked, finally coming to.

“Me?” Jonathan replied, placing his hand on his chest, “You can call me Little Johnny,” he smiled, holding out his glove.

Avalin glanced at his hand, “Pfft,” she snorted, “That didn’t answer my question.”

The boy grinned, “No I suppose it didn’t, did it? Oh well, if you don’t need my help getting out of,” he pointed her wrists, drawing a circle in the air, “this,” he paused getting to his feet, walking towards the prison window, “Maybe I should just leave.” There was a pause, the atmosphere silently as they stared at one another.

“It’s a shame, Avalin,” Jonathan began, “My boss was really excited to meet you,” he smiled darkly.

“How do you know my name?” Avalin asked, utterly confused. The boy paused again, the blonde became irritated.

“Answer me!” she screamed, launching her body at him, only to be restricted by her chains.

Jonathan laughed, “You have been wrongly accused Avalin Young, however no one will believe you. They never did,” he paused, “You were only even when Melissa Rose passed away from an incurable disease,” he continued.

Avalin glared at him, “Mother was sick?” she asked, slumping back on the dirty ground.

“I am part of a clan known as the Dream Eaters. We are responsible for helping those poor souls pass on,” Jonathan continued, “My boss believes you can become one of us.”

“But why me?” the young girl cried.

“Because you have suffered a lost so painful it made you stronger. You know what it’s like to be an outcast, and to be wrongly accused for a crime you did not commit. All of us share one or more of these qualities, Avalin,” he smiled, “You belong in the Dream Eaters clan.”

The young blonde looked down at her chains, “I can’t do very much stuck here,” she complained.

Little Johnny grinned, holding out his gloved hand. A small puff of smoke appeared, shape shifting into a ring with two keys.

“Use these to free yourself,” he threw the metal at the inmate, “I have to run, so when you get out of here, head for the beach. I’ll be waiting,” Jonathan saluted, preparing to leave through the window.

“Wait!” exclaimed Avalin, “This place is over run with armored guards. How am I supposed to fight them without a weapon?”

The boy placed his gloves under his chin, thinking, “Yes, I can see how that could be a problem,” he sighed, “Suppose I better give this to you now then.”

A puff of smoke appeared on the prison floor, circling around and round to form into a double ended staff. The wood was beautiful varnished oak, with curved scythe blades adorning each end, bound with crimson cloth.

“It is clearly the perfect weapon for you,” Little Johnny smiled, “Now about the condition you’re in,” he snapped his fingers, sparks flew from the click. Suddenly all of Avalin’s cuts and bruises began to fade. The blonde stared at her arms, all the crimson stains had disappeared like magic.

“Thank you,” Avalin bowed her head, beginning to unlock her chains with the keys.

Jonathan saluted disappearing into a cloud of smoke, leaking himself out of the prison cell. The mechanisms in the cuffs unlocked, Avalin quickly removed them and the ankle restrictions. When she was finished, she grabbed hold of the scythe staff, smoothing the wood with her fingers. Avalin smiled, standing up confidently with the weapon in hand. She twirled it above her head and around her slender body with ease.

“I’m ready.”

 

Fanfiction: ‘Life after the Last Banquet’ (P8)

This is a fan-based fiction, based on Fruits Basket (c) Natsuki Takaya.

The characters in this fan-fiction are owned by Natsuki Takaya.

This fan-fiction is a romance/comedy of Tohru Honda & Kyo Sohma based in present time.

The rating is T, suitable for teens over 13 years old.

 

We all remember how the last chapter ended, but what will the future hold for Tohru Honda & Kyo Sohma?

Will they tie the knot?

Will they part ways?

Or will there be another addition to the Sohma house-hold?

Tohru Honda stood in the kitchen preparing dinner, waiting for the arrival of her fiance. She watched the door eagerly as she peeled and sliced the carrots ready to be boiled. She heard keys turning in the lock, the wooden door opened slowly. Kyo Sohma walked in, holding a mixed bouquet of peach and red roses in his right hand.
A smile appeared on the brunette’s face, she put down her peeler and carrot, to greet her husband to be.
“Welcome home, honey” she beamed, tucking her slender arms around his waist.
“It’s good to be home,” he pulled her into a tight embrace, running his fingers through her tree-bark coloured hair. The cat sniffed the air, “Something smells good.”
Tohru pulled away from his chest, looking up at him, “That would be dinner.”
“Oh, what are we having?” Kyo asked, slowly releasing from the embrace, to drag Tohru towards the kitchen.
She smiled, “Well I’m cooking Chicken with roast potatoes and carrots,” she noticed the bouquet, “Are those for me?”
Kyo had forgotten all about the flowers, he held them towards his bride-to-be and smiled sweetly, “Of course honey, would else would they be for other than my gorgeous fiance?” he chuckled, pulling her close to his body. The brunette giggled, kissing him softly.
“Oh Kyo, you shouldn’t have. They are beautiful,” she smiled, “Thank you.”
“They are not as beautiful as my girl,” Kyo half-smiled, kissing her again.
Tohru pulled away slowly, “Best I put these in water,” she smiled, “Dinner should be ready soon.”
The ginger-haired man nodded, “Okay, I’ll just go freshen up a bit before it’s ready.”

Novel: Reaper’s Puppet (Chapter 1)

Chapter 1: Fourteen years later

The beautiful burnt skies drew to a  close, hiding the sun with a deeper shade. An old watchtower stood silently, guarding the market town; his posture resembled a haggard gentlemen, gazing down at his children. Below the villagers were closing up their stalls for the evening. A faint chill flew with the wind, hurrying both customers and salesmen to call it a day. The town become dormant in minutes, silent and still. A heavily armored figure walked casually into the town, touching one of the wooden stalls.

“Closed already?” the man asked, looking over is shoulder, six men dressed in a similar attire joined at his sides.

“The villagers have closed up earlier than usual. This happens every year, Sir. What is the meaning of this?” one of the guards men queried.

Commander Grey scanned the area, “Avalin Young,” he replied with a sharp tone, “I know you’re lurking somewhere around here. Quit playing games and come quietly for once!” he bellowed, his voice echoed through the streets.

In the distance a couple of wooden kegs tumbled to the stone pavement; rolling towards the guards, the fire crackers hidden inside explained as they reached their target.

“What makes you think I will ever come quietly?” a female voice called from a distance.

“Show yourself!” Grey growled, his vision clouded by the smokescreen. The feminine voice laughed, slowly through the fog with small crop scythes in each hand. Her hair was coloured white-blonde; the curls tied in a messy ponytail with a piece of cloth. Her eyes were dyed like the ocean waves, her clothes hugged her slender figure yet were tattered like rags. She was nothing more than a street rat.

“Do you know what today is?” Avalin Young asked; a smirk appearing on her lips as she held a rusted blade at the Commander’s throat.

“I believe it is December fifth,” one of the guards piped up, sheepishly.

“Why does that have any relevance!” Grey snapped glaring deep into the girls eyes.

“Today is my birthday,” she smiled, removing her weapon from his throat, “So can you not just leave me alone for one day please?”

“After the crimes you have committed, you shouldn’t even be allowed to stand on our streets,” he growled, removing a pistol from his leather holster.

Avalin snarled at the heavily armored man; backing off slowly as Commander Grey fired a bullet at a small silver bell dangling at the foot of the watchtower. The dark was ear-piercing; ringing through the dormant town, waking every man, woman and child, from their beds. Commander Grey nodded to his men, each of them pulled out their silver rapiers from the holsters.

“Get her!” he growled. His man scrambled towards the market intruder, rapiers held across their bodies. Avalin stepped back slowly waiting for the opportune moment to strike her enemies. One guard darted towards Avalin, she grabbed his tiny throat, and swung him into the other guards. She drew two rusted crop scythes from her belt, holding her guard up.

“Come at me, Grey. I dare you!” she smirked, her sapphire eyes fixed on the armored man.

“Don’t test me child. Have you forgotten your place? You are a criminal, nothing more, and don’t you forget that!”  Commander Grey shouted in reply.

The town’s people watched from their open windows, front doors slightly ajar. Some carried the smaller children in their arms. A faint cry from one baby filled the vacant atmosphere; it’s mother tried to rock him back to sleep with a soothing lullaby.

Avalin turned her head to face the mother and baby, her cold eyes leaked small crystal tears. The lullaby the young the young mother was whispering to her child touched her heart.

“She is far from the land, where her young hero sleeps. And lovers around her are sighing, but cold she turns, from their gazes and weeps. For her heart in the cold grave is lying…”

“Thinking about your poor deceased mother?” Commander Grey snorted at the girl. In the brief moment, she was distracted; her guard relaxed, he was standing behind her. His warm breathe sent chills down her spine. Avalin’s sapphire eyes widened, a sharp pain rushed through her body; her enemy struck her boney spine with an impenetrable force. Grey’s fist, heavy with iron armor, rammed into her fragile body.

Avalin’s skinny legs buckled under the weight of her heavy body, she fell turning back slowly to glare into her enemies’ soul. She lie on the dirty ground, her muscles crying with agony.

Commander Grey towered over the young girl, pointing the pistol at her still beating heart,  “I’ve waited so long for this moment. To finally catch you, Avalin Young,” he sniggered, “You know I feel sorry for your poor deceased mother.”

Avalin glared at him with the little energy she had, her sapphire eyes like daggers in his. She slowly pulled her body from the dusty ground, like a puppet on a string.

“She must have gone through hell giving birth to a demon like you,” he remarked. Avalin’s perfect proportion face screwed up in anger, gripping her rusty scythes tight.

“You have no right to speak my mother,” she spat, her blood beginning to boil.

“That’s rich coming from her killer,” Commander Grey smirked, “Don’t make me laugh, outlaw.”

Avalin scowled, her grip tightened on the rusty scythes. Suddenly she ran at her enemy, striking hard against his shiny armor. Grey seized his opportunity to strike the young girl hard in her pale face. She was sent flying backwards; tumbling into a wooden market stall, crashing into a pile of empty barrels. Crimson tears dripped from her peach lips, streaking down her chin.

His grin grew wide like a cheshire cat, “All you have to do is come with me.” Avalin Young slowly pushed her tired body from the rumble; wiping the crimson stains on her suede gloves, she staggered towards her enemy. She held up her guard, both hands still gripping tightly on the rusty crop scythes.

“Just give up already kid. It’s useless trying to fight me,” Grey grinned.

Avalin continued to stand her ground, her guard firmly up, “I will never stop fighting!”  The Commander saw red, his blood boiling under his olive skin with anger.

He glared at the young girl, his emeralds burning, “I admire your resistance to the law; yet it has been fourteen years since the murder of Melissa Rose. You shall pay for the life you stole from her!” He grabbed Avalin’s curls with armored fists, iron plates grazing her scalp, forcing the girl to her knees. Avalin looked at him with watery sapphires, her body too fragile to escape his grip. Grey held the girl at an arms length. The swarm of villagers stared horrified at the bloodied girl. A crowd of whispers echoed through the silent air. The young blonde met their stares with a pair of demonic sapphires.

“Get your filthy hands off me,” Avalin growled under her breath, her head centimetres from the dirty ground.

Commander Grey bent down beside her, “What did you say to me, murderer?” he pronounced each syllable of the final word, slowly, allowing them to sink in.

“And what makes you think I would kill my own flesh and blood. You really are a jackass!” she exclaimed with a deathly tone. Avalin grabbed onto Grey’s arm gauntlet tight, kicking his legs off-balance. The Commander fell, his face caked in dirt. Avalin slowly got back to her feet, pinning the man to the ground.

The townspeople became outraged, throwing anything they could find at the young girl. Pieces of broken wood lying near their doorways, small rocks uncovered from the dirt. Some even picked up heavier objects, each taking a turn to beat her. Avalin endured the pain, striking Grey hard in the face, knocking him temporarily unconscious. She stood up, blocking several attacks from the villagers. Her white-blonde curls fell back into place, she reached for the scythes, her gloves gripping tight to the handles.

“So who wants to take me on?” she queried, a dark smile taking over her face from anger, she movements became more sinister than before. The market town fell silent, all the hand-made weapons were dropped from their master’s hands.

“You deserve to live with a guilty consequence for killing your own mother. If I killed you, it would only end your suffering,” Commander Grey choked.

Avalin Young threw her head down to glare at the man with burnt sapphires, her blood boiling, “I dare you to say that to my face, jackass!” she scowled.

Grey laughed, “It would be my pleasure,” in a blink of an eye he launched himself at the young girl, striking her hard. She collapsed like a sack of potatoes. Her body fell hard to the dirty ground. Avalin felt completely lifeless, like she was watching everyone around her, from outside her own body, blending in like another face in the crowd.

The townspeople watched in horror, as the young girl was placed under arrest for the murder of Melissa Rose. Her hands and feet were bound with thick rope, her pockets were emptied of their belongings. A variety of coloured stones, a small hand-drawn map on cloth and two rusted crop scythes. The young girl was then blindfolded with a black cloth sack, and thrown into a horse drawn cage.

Commander Grey addressed the crowd, “The fugitive, no, the murderer Avalin Young has finally been captured. She will remain locked up and left to rot for eternity after taking the life of Melissa Rose.” The crowd rejoiced as Commander Grey hopped into his carriage at the front of the cage, saluting the villagers as he and his men pulled away.

Poetry: Wonderfall

Task: NSU Writers’ Society‘s Open Mic- style event, pieces all written around the theme of ‘Wonderland’

 

She tumbled, falling, falling.

Down the rabbit hole, screaming.

Where will she end up,

After this Wonderfall?

 

As Alice fell through the hole,

After chasing a white rabbit in a waistcoat,

With a pocket watch ticking in his paw,

How curious the sight must have been.

 

A piano tumbled past her gaze,

Playing an eerie serenade.

Shelves stacked high with jars,

Each housing a sweet fruity preserve.

She took a seat on a passing armchair,

But before Alice could take her first bite,

The chair tipped forward,

Soft fruit slipped from her grasp,

Which gave her quite a fight.

 

But still she tumbled,

Down the rabbit hole.

Where will she end up?

After this Wonderfall.

 

 

 

 

Novel: Reaper’s Puppet (Prologue)

Prologue

I walked in the moonlight; my skin pale as the first fallen snow, my sapphire eyes reflecting the twinkling stars. As I crept slowly through the darkness, my white-blonde hair snagged upon a crooked branch. In the distance I heard footsteps; at least ten soldiers were gaining at my heels, watching my every move.

I tugged hard on my curls, snapping the hand of a withered willow. I keep running. My tattered suede boots carried me on, gathering thick layers of mud on the heels. As I continued on, faint voices rung in my frost-bitten ears.

“You call yourself soldiers, stick to the tracks.  Do not let her escape again!”

They were chasing me, following me out into my domain. But why were they hunting me? What had I done wrong?

These questions circled in my head, taunting my confused mind; the answer was not yet clear, but one thing was certain, I would never stop running.

I jumped over many rise tree-trunks, each one slightly higher above ground than the last. I could see the moonlight through a crack in the trees, the end was in sight.

Just as I thought I was safe; my ankle twisted. I tumbled to the dirty ground, smashing my head against a mossy rock. I lay on my bruised back wondering what would become of me, if the soldiers found me.

I clutched my forehead, a pulsing pain pushed hard against the skin. Tears clustered in the corner of my eyes; stagnant moss grazed my cheeks, broken bark sticking in my pale skin.

Was this the end?

Finding beauty is surreal, when it’s so subtle

I love to find inspiration in the environment that surrounds me, to find beauty in anything and everything, is a life waiting aspiration i hope to feel. However surreal or subtle it may be to the naked eye.

It’s a dream to become one of the world’s greatest fashion designers. Taking a walk through fields of open gorgeously lush colours, vibrant and scented beautifully.
Camping in a new place every night, exploring different places everyday. I want to live my life as if it was an adventure.

Shorts: Reaper’s Market

This short story is Chapter 1 to my first novel “The Reaper’s puppet”.

These are short parts of the story, that have been edited and reedited to create the actual chapters of the novel.

 

The beautiful burnt skies slowly drew to a close, hiding the sun with a deeper shade. An old watchtower stood silently guarding the market town. He stood with the posture of a haggard gentleman, gazing down at the villages closing up their stalls for the evening.

A faint chill flew with the wind, hurrying both customers and salesmen to call it a day. The town became dormant in minutes, silent and still. An armored figure walked casually into the market, touching one of the wooden stalls.

“Closed already?” the man asked, looking over his shoulder, six men dressed in the same attire joined the guard.

“This happens every year Sir, what is the meaning of this?” one of the men queried.

The first guard scanned the area, “Avalin Young,” he replied with a sharp tone, “I know you’re lurking somewhere around here. Quit playing games and come quietly for once!” he shouted, his voice echoing through the streets.

In the distance a couple of wooden kegs tumbled to the stone pavement; rolling towards the guard’s, the fire crackers hidden inside exploded as they reached their target.

“What makes you think I will ever come quietly?” a female voice called from a distance.

“Show yourself!” the head guard growled, his vision clouded by the smokescreen. The female voice laughed, walking slowly through the fog with small crop scythes in each hand. Her hair was coloured white-blonde; the curls tied in a messy ponytail with a piece of cloth. Her eyes were dyed like sapphires, her clothes tight to her body, yet tattered like rags. A smirk appeared across her face, launching herself at the head guard.

“Do you know what today is?” Avalin young asked, holding one of her crop scythe’s on his throat.

“I believe it is December fifth,” one of the other guards replied.

“Why does that have any relevance!” the head guard snapped.

“Today is my birthday,” she smiled, removing her weapon from his throat, “So can you not just leave me alone for one day please?”

“After the crimes you committed, you shouldn’t even be allowed to stand on our streets,” he growled, removing a pistol from his leather holster.

Avalin snarled at the heavily armored group; backing off slowly as the head guard fire a bullet at a small silver bell dangling at the foot of the watchtower. The alarm was ear-piercing; ringing through the dormant town, waking ever man, woman and child from their beds. Commander Grey nodded to his man, each of them pulled out their silver rapiers from the holsters.

“Get her!” he growled. His men scrambled towards the intruder in the market, rapiers held across their bodies. She stepped back slowly waiting for the opportune moment to strike her enemy. As one man approached her, Avalin grabbed him by his tiny throat, swinging him into the other guards. She drew her rusted crop scythes from her holsters, holding up her guard.

“Come at me Commander, I dare you.” She smirked, her sapphire eyes fixed on the armored man.

“Don’t test me child. Have you forgotten your place? You are a criminal, don’t you forget that!” Commander Grey shouted in reply.

The town’s people watched from their open windows and front doors, some carrying the smaller children in their arms. A faint cry from one baby filled the still atmosphere; its mother tried to rock it back to sleep with a soothing lullaby. Avalin turned her head slowly round towards the mother and baby, her cold eyes leaked small crystal tears. The lullaby the young mother was whispering to her child touched her heart.

“Thinking about your poor deceased mother,” Commander Grey snorted at the girl. In the brief moment she was distracted, her guard was down and he was standing behind her. Avalin’s sapphire eyes widened, she felt a sharp pain rush through her body; her enemy struck her, between into her boney spine with an impenetrable force. His fist, heavy with metal armor rammed into her fragile body.

 

Avalin’s skinny legs buckled under the weight of her heavy body, as she fell she turned back slowly, glaring deep into her enemies soul. She lie on the dirty ground, her muscles crying with agony.

Commander Grey towered over the young girl, “I’ve waited so long to catch you, Avalin Young,” he sniggered, “You know, I feel sorry for your poor deceased mother.” Avalin glared at him, her sapphire eyes like daggers into his. She slowly pulled her body from the dusty ground, like a puppet on a string.

“She must have gone through hell, giving birth to a demon like you.” He remarked. Avalin’s perfect proportioned face screwed up in anger, she gripped tight of her rusty crop scythes.

“You have no right to speak about my mother,” she spat at her enemy, her blood beginning to boil.

“That’s rich coming from her killer,” Commander Grey smirked, “Don’t make me laugh, outlaw.”

Avalin scolded, her grip tightening on the rusty scythes. Suddenly she ran at her enemy, striking hard against his shiny armor. Commander Grey seized his opportunity to punch the young girl hard in her pale face. She was sent flying backwards; tumbling into a wooden market stall, crashing into a pile of empty barrels. Crimson tears dripped from her peach lips, streaking down her chin.

Commander Grey’s grin grew smug, “All you have to do is come with me.” Avalin young slowly pushed her tried body from the rumble, crimson stains on her suede gloves, as she staggered towards her enemy. The young girl held up her guard, both hands gripping tightly to rusty crop scythes.

“Just give up already kid, it’s useless trying to fight me,” the guard grinned.

Avalin Young continued to stand her ground, her guard firmly up, “I will never stop fighting.”

The amored man sighed,  “I admire your determination, but save us both the hassle and give up already.”

“Never!” the young girl screamed. The townspeople stared at her, frightened of her abilities.