My paling hands shook violently as I pulled my dirtied and torn jacket closer to myself in a losing battle against the elements to stay warm. Stray thorns stuck in the jacket scratched my skin, and my sopping wet sneakers with frayed laces sent up a spray of water each time one of my feet met the dark asphalt.
I was running. Running on a vacant bridge that creaked and moaned around me each time I took a step. The large bridge had to be at least seventy-five feet across, spanning a wide crevasse in the Earth's tormented crust. A swirling torrent of water rushed underneath the man-made structure, threatening to take the life of any being - human or otherwise - who dared leap or step into the liquid.
The bridge was creaking. Moaning. It almost seemed to sway unnaturally underneath my feet. It could fall at any given moment. And given the circumstances, I might be better off dead than alive. I put the thought aside, focusing merely on survival, and I continued to run.
I heard a surreal twang. That couldn't be what I thought it was.
The bridge lurched. No!
The bridge was going to fall. That much was apparent already. There was a slight chance I would be able to I continued to run, somehow keeping my balance even when the bridge swayed and lurched left and right.
I was almost there.
I could see the end.
I imagined myself getting off of this horrid island alive - remaining on the to-be-bombed land-mass would mean almost certain death. So getting off of the island alive was the only way I could get off. It wasn't possible to get off dead, was it?
I strained my tired muscles further, sprinting along the bridge as fast as I could possibly go.
I heard another twang, and this time the bridge jolted to the right violently, throwing me off balance and sending me flying to the ground. Scrambling to my feet, I watched in horror as the bridge began to crumble behind me.
Just a few more yards...
I began to run again, panting and praying desperately that I would make it to the other side. That I would make it to my family. That I would be able to see their happy faces once more.
My prayers weren't answered. To my utter horror and dismay, the asphalt beneath me gave way. Suddenly I was falling.
Falling so fast I could hardly comprehend what was happening. All I knew was that I was not going to make it. There was no way I would survive this horrific fall.
As I hit the water hard enough to break my ribs and shatter my left leg, I realized with a jolt of emotional pain that she was still on the island.
chapter 1
I flipped open the laptop quite angrily, hitting the power button with more force than needed and staring at myself in the blackened screen.
I was nothing special; a 16 year-old girl with straight black hair, big green eyes, and a face covered in acne. Again, nothing special.
The laptop finally started up, purring to life and vibrating softly in my lap. I stared at it darkly. I knew that I had turned it on for a reason, but at the moment I couldn't remember what that reason was.
"Bri?" The wary voice came from outside my bedroom door.
I slammed my laptop shut, putting it on the ground and glaring at the door.
"Bri? Are you in there?" The voice was a tad more frantic.
I continued to glare at the door, like it was it's fault all of this was happening. Like it was it's fault that my parent's were deciding to move to some stupid island in the middle of the ocean and drag me with them.
"Bri! Are you there?"
"Yes! Yes I'm here! What do you want?"
The door opened. It was my 17-year old brother Nick, and I immideately felt horrible for snapping at him. Even though he was a pain in the butt to be around sometimes, I couldn't help but love the guy to death.
"Are you okay? You've been sitting in your room for the past two hours..." He asked warily, running his fingers through his short black hair and fixing his green eyes on mine. We both had my fathers' hair and my mothers' eyes, so many people could easily tell we were related.
"Yeah, I'm fine, I guess. I took a nap..."
Nick laughed, a wide grin spreading across his face. I found myself grinning too.
He walked over to me, outstretching his hand to me and helping me up off of the floor. I took a couple of steps backwards and plopped down on my bed, sighing loudly. I watched the corner of Nick's mouth twitch upwards.
"It will be okay."
I nodded stiffly. Even though I didn't believe it, I had to force myself to.
My head snapped to the right as my annoying ringtone rang through the room, acknoledging me that I had a new text message.
Reaching over and picking up my phone off of the nightstand, I glanced at the number and saw that it was unrecognized by both the phone and I.
I opened the message.
Brianne: Meet me tonight at the gas-station down your street. 6:30.
I debated on whether or not I should text back, then typed up a reply and hit send.
who is this
That does not matter.
is this jack? I knew for a fact that Jack knew the *67 trick, and used it frequently.
My identity is none of your concern.
i'm not meeting u
No reply.
"Who are you texting?" Nick asked me, moving closer to me and peering over my shoulder at my phone.
"I.. I'm not sure." I stuttered, showing him the ominous messages.
"Do you recognize the number?" I asked.
Nick glowered at my phone.
"Don't meet this... Person. Stay in the house, Bri." Nick's tone was serious; more serious than he normally was. But then again, ever since the decision to move was deemed final, Nick had been acting strange. Like he knew something no-one else did. Some dark secret he refused to confide to anyone but himself.
"I'm not stupid, Nick.."
"Good. You should tell mom. She can call the police if this gets any weirder." He scratched the back of his head.
"No, I'll be fine. Don't worry about me."
I could tell by the expression on Nick's face that he was going to worry about me.
"Just stay in the house, Brianne. Lock your window, okay?"
It was like he knew something I didn't, and it was only creeping me out further. Who was this mysterious person?
Part of me wanted to go and find out who it was, and yet another part of me was screaming at me not to go.
Nick gave me one final remark before exiting my room.
"Curiosity killed the cat, Brianne."
My phone beeped, alerting me of one more text.
Don't listen to him. He's lying to you.
CHAPTER 2 - Candles
"It's this house, right?" She asked the man, who had parked in front of an old rambler made of crumbling, red, bricks. Many of the lights where off, and it didn't look like anyone was home at the moment.
He nodded, turning on the windshield wipers as the rain picked up . "It is this house."
The girl exited the car with her large duffel bag. Closing the door tightly behind her, and walked through the pouring rain in fear, she went straight up to the victims' door. She took a deep breath, and rapped on the door three times. Nothing happened. She rang the doorbell twice, burning her finger on the hot light and wincing. But she couldn't show fear. It would alert the victim.
The door opened, and a young woman who looked like she was in her late twenties opened the door.
"Hi. Would you like to buy a candle? I'm selling them for a fundraiser." The girl spoke with a tone of authority.
The woman nodded slowly, obviously wondering why the girl was selling candles, of all things, for a fundraiser. She would have expected cookies, or some sort of baked good, for a fundraiser. But she shook the emotion off, not wanting to upset the girl. And her house did stink a bit...
She still wasn't sure about the whole thing, however. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't shake off the edgy feeling she felt around this girl. Something was... Off about her. And it wasn't just the girl. Candles were a rather strange thing to be selling for a fundraiser. But oh well. Some people would do crazy, stupid things if they were in desperate need of some money. And this girl looked like she could use some money. The girl looked as if she were possibly seventeen, with a dirtied white tee-shirt, ripped up jeans, and a thin black windbreaker to keep the rain off of her skin. Her hair was long and black, although it was tangled and had a few leaves and grass particles caught in it.
"Yes, a candle. That would be nice. What... Scents do you have?" The woman asked the girl.
The girl responded by proceeding to show her many of the different scents she had concealed in her duffel bag. The number of candles the girl had was innumerable, and the scents ranged anywhere from peppermint, to the fresh scent of rain in a forest of cedar pines.
The woman finally decided on a simple one labeled 'Apple Pie' which really did smell like apple pie, and made your mouth salivate when the strong scent met your nose.
She thanked the girl upon handing her a five-dollar bill, and retreated back into her house, closing the door behind her and drawing the curtains.
Although she had her obvious suspicions, the young woman wouldn't suspect anything fatal.
No one thought candles were dangerous.
She walked back over to the car, trying her best to remain calm. She couldn't lose it now. Not after she had been hurt and trained and hurt again to dissapate her emotions entirely. But slowly, her emotions were creeping back to her. Something that, as a paid assassin, she could not afford to let happen. Sadness over a death you got paid for was never good.
Opening the passenger door of the black SUV, she climbed in and shut the door, thankful for the warmth that the car had to offer. The man in the driver's seat turned to her, nodded approvingly, and handed her a one-hundred dollar bill.
The girl stared at the money darkly, folding it in half and tucking it into her back pocket.
She felt like she didn't deserve this money.
Being paid to take someone's life was wrong.
But she had to keep her job.
Or else it would all be over.
Well, there you go. Tell me what you think!!!
-- Edited by ArcaneCanineArtist on Monday 14th of November 2011 07:52:06 PM
__________________
"Sticks and Stones will Break my Bones, but Even Through Death I will Withstand the Pain."
For some odd reason, chapters 4 and 5 wont publish correctly. So I guess I'll just post them here, if that's fine with everyone.
chapter 3
Okay, so I was thouroughly creeped out by all of the strange text messages. But I wasn't going paranoid about touching my phone again, because I knew that it was probably one of my friends.
Nick, on the other hand, was still a little edgy about the whole thing, and he kept on glancing my way to see what I was doing, or if I was even there in the room with him.
Mom, of course, noticed the strange glances towards me.
I sighed, just as she opened her mouth to ask me what was wrong.
"No, Mom, nothing is wrong. Nick is just... Being... Nick." I shot a glare towards my brother, who held his hands up defensively, grinned widely, and skittered out of the room before mom could reprimand him.
Mom shook her head disapprovingly, and returned to her spot behind the counter where she threw ice, bananas, and a cup of sugar into a blender.
I took the silence as an excuse to leave, and went down to the basement, looking around for a second. I could tell that mom wanted to leave as soon as she possibly could, because she had already started to pack downstairs. Large brown boxes were everywhere, and covering them were various labels such as 'computer supplies', 'video games', and 'miscellaneous'. I turned, and entered my bedroom, closing the door behind me only to have it opened again by none other than Nick Fleming.
"Nicholas!"
He stared at me, in complete and obvious shock that I had used his complete first name for the first time in five years.
"Okay, fine. Nick. Well, either way, you'll have to get out of my room..."
Nick grinned. "Nope, I don't think so."
"I give up." I crawled onto my bed in defeat.
Nick sighed, and walked over to me, his demeanor instantly changing when he saw that I was still troubled by the move.
"Just wait, Bri. When we move, you will be so much happier that we did. Just think--We'll be on an island! An island!"
"Yeah, the island of Feral Petuitey English or whatever it was." I said.
"It's actually the Saarele Peidetud Inglid," He spoke the island's name with a precise accent. "Do you know what Saarele Peidetud Inglid means?"
"No," I responded flatly.
"It means 'Island of Hidden Angels.'" He spoke the English term of the islands name as if it were something sacred, like a temple.
"Just because it's named after some Angels doesn't make the fact we're moving any better." I muttered.
"Well I think it's a cool name... Plus, don't you remember when we were younger, when that was exactly what you wanted? We would pretend that the playset was an island, and we would battle rogue pirates, and ninjas, and thieves and..." He trailed off, tilting his head at me a little bit, with sadness flickering across his eyes. "Don't you remember that? All you ever wanted was to live on your own little island with a hula skirt and hawaiian music playing."
I chuckled bitterly. "I'm not five years old anymore, Nick... Those aren't my dreams now... And as far as I know, you aren't seven years old, either."
Nick smirked as if he had a devious secret. "But what if I am?"
I shrugged. "For all I know, Nick, you could easily still be seven. Your personality says it all."
He pumped his fist into the air victoriously as if he had just won a kick-butt game of paintball.
"Yes! Oh, and Brianne, if you ever need some awesome hawaiian music, I play the ukelele, so I can be your awesome, musically talented, older brother." He grinned.
I found myself grinning along with Nick, and buried my face in my soft pillow. Nick only knew one note on the ukelele, and that was E. Good luck finding sheet music that only consisted of one note.
"What are you doing down there, Bri? Got something to hide from Nicholas?" He reached down, grabbed my arm, and pulled me up easily.
I was still grinning, even though my brain was screaming at me, telling me that I was supposed to be sad right now.
He smirked. "Look who's smiling again!" He poked my forehead playfully, then helped me up to a standing position.
"Well, Queen of Smiles, I need to..." He glanced at his watch. "Crap. Catch you later, Bri." He disappeared up thestairs, and I heard the unmistakeable sound of a door slamming. Where he was going was a complete mystery to me, although I was almost one-hundred-percent sure it had something to do with a skate-park.
Nick was constantly trying to make me smile. And in the process, he made everyone smile. He was just a very smiley person. I was very happy to have him around.
But although I was a tad happier now because of Nick, I couldn't shake the sadness. Moving was different for everyone, it toyed with their emotions in different ways, for Nick it was just a whole new adventure to go live, for Mom it was a great opportunity for the family to experience a new style of living, while for me... It was altogether a ridiculous nightmare that lasted much longer than eight hours.
Chapter 4
The girl read and reread the damaged note. Until she had the thing practically memorized from beginning to end. From an unknown sender, the letter had announced that if she could kill someone who was apparently going to be reaching the island soon, before a designated time, she would be rewarded a large sum of money-one that she could certainly use. There was also a request to meet her new employer near the back of a skimpy resturaunt near her home. The signature was smeared, blotted out with the heavy water damage the letter had obtained in it's journey to her run-down living space. This was quite obviously an offer she wasn't going to turn down. There was only one thing about her that deterred her from this assignment, and that was the fact that the time she had to track the victim down and assassinate them was in one week. Less time then she had ever been given in any assignment before, even though, as an assassin, she should be a lot faster at her work. The note had given no notice of assistance, nothing that told her that she would be helped in tracking and killing the victim. She was completely on her own on this one. And she didn't even know her employer, much less the person she was supposed to assassinate. But, she thought, that was a very good training opportunity for her. She could learn all of the insides and outsides of tracking, which, at the moment, she wasn't very good at. She could really use this opportunity, and suck out every bit of information given to her to use for future assignments. She carefully folded the note, slipped it back into the envelope, and got herself a fresh sheet of white paper and a pen. She inscribed to the mysterious sender that she accepted the assignment, and would meet him at the resturaunt tomorrow morning at six o' clock sharp. She wrote the return address on the envelope, tucked her own letter within, and walked outside. Placing the rain-spotted envelope in her mailbox, she shut the flap and lifted the flag. Maybe, just maybe, her envelope wouldn't be intercepted. This meeting was vital to her success in assassinating the mystery victim. She needed to know when the victim would be arriving on the island. Hunting someone who wasn't even on the same island as you didn't really work, did it? Unless it was over some kind of long-distance, online communication system. Glancing upwards as more rain began to fall, she pulled the hood on her loose sweatshirt up and walked up to her door, pulled it open, and went inside, turning a sharp corner and going to her room.
Unfortunately for the suspicious character hiring her for the job, she wasn't an easy-trusting person, and would be armed and ready to attack with any threat that came from her possible employer. She would much rather give up the money and spare a live, than spill innocent blood and get a fortune. She wasn't stupid, that was for sure. She picked up a long knife from her bedside and tucked it into a small, protective pocket within a black bag that would hang by her side. Along with that, she packed a small candle, and a matchbox. She would be prepared tomorrow.
The night came and went quickly.
She awoke feeling unsettled, her dreams - although short - having inserted a small amount of discomfort into her being. She knew she should be excited about this assignment, however; three-thousand dollars was an amount of money she could certainly use. That dream... The one with the tall, handsome man standing in front of a smaller woman protectively... She hadn't recognized the faces, however. They were foggy now, the once-distinct dream images now breaking apart and getting harder to call back to her mind... Soon they were lost in her array of thoughts, almost certainly never to be recalled again. This was unfortunate: That dream had seemed very important to her for some odd reason. It was very unlikely she would ever figure out why exactly. Dreams were strange things, sometimes explaining the future, sometimes reflecting back on the past, other times a message from a hidden angel.
Hidden angels.
That was rather ironic, that she lived on Saarele Peidetud Inglid, the Island of the Hidden Angels, and she had recieved this strange dream along with a strange feeling about this assignment. Perhaps the strange stories from religious people living in the town were right? Maybe there were such things as God-Sent visions? Maybe there was such thing as a Holy Ghost, or even such things as guardian angels themselves?
Chapter 5
I sat in bed for what seemed like hours. I was staring at a tiny blinking light that belonged to some electronic device that was unknown to me, although I could make a vague assumption or two.
I hardly noticed the light, however. Not only was it puny, I was too caught up in thinking to even notice how late it was. I was thinking about the move. That was all that ever occupied my mind these days. The move to the... Saarele Peidetud Inglid. My mom had told me that it meant 'The Island of Hidden Angels.' I coudn't recall what language it was in, however.
I slumped down in my bed, sliding down my headboard and coming to a rest clumped up right against the wall. Pulling my blankets up over my chest so that it covered my arms, I realized that these next few nights were likely the last I would spend in this house. This old, creaky, broken, house. If I wasn't mistaken, my mom was going to try and sell the house. I wasn't sure who would want to buy such a house as this, however.
I closed my eyes.
Just as I got comfortable in my bed, a very loud ringtone blasted through my room. Startled by the loud noise, I leapt to my feet, tripped over a coiled blanket at the foot of my bed, and fell off of the bed painfully. I crawled over to my phone, to see who had texted me in the middle of the night and if it was even worth falling off of the bed for.
Picking up my phone, I realized with a start that it wasn't my phone. And as far as I knew, it wasn't Nicks phone. Or my mom's phone. Just a random phone. I stared at it fervently, searching messages, looking through contacts to try and solve the mystery of whose phone it was. Finally, I found a message. From someone named William Peer.
meet me tonight. w/ brianne. Make sure you remind her to come!!
And then a text from the owner of the phone.
yep, we'll be there!
Another text from William, sent about two hours later than the other messages.
i texted her.
and??
its weird...
explain???
The next text from the owner of the phone was sent about twenty minutes later.
she says she doesn't remember me.
Upon seeing this message, I dropped the mysterious phone on the ground as if it were a venomous snake.
My vision went blurry.
Suddenly, I was back in my bed. I realized that it had just been a nightmare. A very weird nightmare. The dream was slowly dissapating, however, and I couldn't remember much. I rubbed my eyes, and peeked out the window. It was still dark. I clicked on my bedside lamp, and looked around for my phone. It was right next to my bed. I picked it up, and opened my messages.
I scrolled back through the messages I had gotten the day before.
There was one in particular that stood out from the others: Don't let them fool you, Brianne. I'm still here for you. Unlike the others.
It was almost as if I had known this person.
Then the dream came rushing back to me in a flood of pictures and memories, and then in an instant it was gone again. Except for the name William. William Peer.
I quickly texted the unknown sender.
do u know someone named william peer?
The reply came instantly, something I was not expecting because it was one A.M, and not a very likely time to be texting someone.
bri, are u crazy? :) of course i know will. And u know him, too. u have been acting really weird lately. is something wrong?
I didn't text them back.
Something was very, very wrong here. The name William Peer was vaguely farmiliar to me, but I could not place where I had heard it from.
Suddenly, a wave of exhaustion rushed over me out of absolutely nowhere, and I slumped down on the ground, asleep.
I awoke on the floor. My back was aching horribly. Served me right for falling asleep on the ground.
I clambered up, moaning pathetically as my back popped.
Upon hearing Mom calling me from the kitchen for breakfast, I went upstairs and into the kitchen. "Do you know anyone named William Peer?" I blurted, instantly regretting it when she gave me a surprised look.
Mom raised an eyebrow. "No, do you?"
I shrugged. "No.. I just... He... Nevermind."
I shook the thought off, hoping my Mom would still think of me as relatively sane, and sat down to a bowl of Rice Krispies.
-- Edited by ArcaneCanineArtist on Wednesday 30th of November 2011 06:14:44 AM
-- Edited by Josh on Saturday 3rd of December 2011 08:01:40 AM
__________________
"Sticks and Stones will Break my Bones, but Even Through Death I will Withstand the Pain."
I skipped right over chapter 3, didn't i.... figures.. -.-; I'll just post it right here, right now, in this very message, and then do you think you could move it up so it's above chapter 4/5?
EDIT: Okay.
-Josh
-- Edited by Josh on Saturday 3rd of December 2011 08:02:54 AM
__________________
"Sticks and Stones will Break my Bones, but Even Through Death I will Withstand the Pain."
