Some sample random passages from, "Relentless Devil."
Below are some passages from something I have recently begun. It is nowhere near complete, and it does not commence from the beginning. Because of writer's block and not being sure how to start it, I have decided to just have a few sections here and there--for the parts I am sure of--and then tie them all together later.
Relentless Devil
Genre: Teen/Young Adult Fiction, Sci-fi/Horror, Thriller, Adventure
Influences: Christopher Pike, Dean Koontz
Four teens must prevent the evil resurrection of Edgar Allan Poe.
Beginning:
The frisbee flew through the air, coasting on a breeze, which seemed to tauntingly carry it away from its intended target. Chris just barely caught the edge with his fingertips, but couldn't keep his balance, and tumbled to the ground. He wound up in a fetal position, clutching the toy to his chest as if it were a football. How he wished it were; this would make excellent practice time. He was the quarterback of the football team, killing time near the front plaza of school with Sam, his star receiver.
Chris tried in vain not to look foolish in this act of bravado, for at the last moment, he caught sight of two of the finest female forms he ever imagined existed: Carrie and her best friend, Angel.
Angel always seemed to scream the loudest, and jump up and down with the most enthusiasm, when the two boys combined for a big score on the field--even if she told herself it was just part of her job. Chris sometimes entertained a fantasy of thinking it was nothing more than a big show, meant for him. It was all he had. He knew he would never make a score with her, after the game. She probably saw him as a guy not worth giving a second thought to; just another one of her teasing conquests.
Chris picked himself up off the ground and blew a tuft of grass from his mouth. Angel saw him catch the frisbee and land in the dirt. As she passed by, she leaned slightly forward, placed her hands on her knees, and exclaimed, "Good boy! Would you like a biscuit?" Then she straightened up, looked at Carrie, and they both giggled as they continued on their way.
Chris walked back to where Sam was standing, still watching the girls...especially Angel...the rear view...in her cheerleading outfit. He shook his head. "Moves like a goddess, treats me like a dog," he muttered.
"Chris...man, why do you even bother?" cajoled Sam. "You know she's way out of your league."
"Says who?"
"Well...Jake Christiani, for one. They're together, you know. He could snap you in two like a twig, and wouldn't think twice about it, either."
"Oh, yeah? The Angel's dating the Devil?" quipped Chris, watching the girls blend into the crowd of other kids waiting to board the bus for the trip.
"Does everyone on campus but you know about this? Forget it, dude. There's plenty other fish..."
"No...not like her. She's special. And one day, I'm going to prove to her that I'm special, too." He looked back at Sam. "So what if she's from the right side of the tracks? And her father struts around like he owns half this town?"
"He does."
"Big deal. That don't mean squat in the book of love. I know I'm nothing now, but things have a way of working out, if you know what I mean." He glanced back toward the crowd and spotted Angel. She caught him eyeing her for a second before quickly turning away. She gave him a thin, momentary smile, as a show of courtesy. "Things are going to change."
"Yeah, right, okay...whatever you say, buddy."
"I'm serious. One day, I'm gonna be someone and do something. I'm gonna save the world for her." In one motion, Chris shoved the frisbee at his friend and gave him a slap on his shoulder before joining the group for the field trip. "You comin', pal?"
"In a minute. Give me a few seconds to absorb the impact of your delusion," Sam answered, with a wide, sarcastic grin.
Chris responded with a smirk.
Angel was about to take the first step onto the bus, when an arm grabbed hers and stopped her. "Excuse me, young lady, but you're not going on this trip dressed like that. You need to wear regular clothes. This is no different than any other ordinary day."
"But...but, I had an early practice. My clothes are in my locker. I didn't think I had time to change."
"I didn't make the rules."
"Please, sir...I can go back and get them. I'll be quick about it. When do we leave?"
The gruff gentleman looked at his watch impatiently. "Hurry. You've got ten minutes."
"Thank you. Please don't take off without me. I'll be right back."
And with that, Angel scurried back toward the main building faster than a frisbee on a taunting breeze.
Chris bit his lower lip as he watched her run, her skirt swaying in the wind. She caught his eye again, and glanced back, giving another smile--much longer-lasting and less thinly-veiled than before.
Chris' proclamation apparently was overheard by the powers-that-be, and they decided to give him a helping hand. His luck was destined to change, and he would get the opportunity to present to the object of his affection a new world saved just for her. Though, in spite of the reward, Chris had no idea just how hard it would be.
Chris also had no idea that Angel secretly liked him, despite her behavior. Shy, playing hard-to-get, it was difficult for her to make her true feelings known.
Random Passage (later):
Chris, Sam and Carrie stood at the far edge of the room, the gaping chasm behind them where the explosion obliterated the wall. There were blank looks on their faces, but in their hearts and minds stood a sense of disbelief. At the other end of the hallway was Angel. She looked more like an escapee from a POW camp than the bright-eyed, energetic soul they had come to know and love. Her clothing was severely torn to shreds, and both it and much of her face, neck and arms were covered with dirt, grime and blood stains--some dried, some not. Her trademark mane of lustrous brown hair had turned into something resembling a disheveled rat's nest, and there were what appeared to be gnats scurrying mindlessly about her head. Maybe it was just a trick of the light, or maybe Angel's friends were losing their minds--or had already lost them. Either way, they were hallucinating. This girl was supposed to be dead! They were sure of it! They distinctly recall kneeling down beside her broken and battered body, her short life snuffed out from the horror they all had endured since the beginning of their sentence. Or had she just given up the fight? It's been said that some people would rather let go in a moment of weakness than continue a futile struggle. Carrie knew she touched flesh when she held her friend's hand, the tears streaming down her face so forcefully that they might, at any moment, churn into a river and carry them all away into oblivion.
"Angel?" affirmed Chris, though even he could not believe his own ears. "Is that really you?" He looked at Sam and Carrie for a moment, then returned his gaze.
"Yeah, I'm here," she replied.
"We thought you were dead," said Carrie.
"I am...but I'm not. Sort of. I don't know. I sure feel dead. But I'm up and walking. And you can see and hear me."
"Yeah, we sure can," Carrie said softly, with a slight smile, the first to cross her lips since she last saw her friend fully alive, and who had now come back to her. Carrie began to move toward her, her arms starting to stretch out to give a hug. Chris and Sam took a step forward, following her.
"No!" Angel cried out, with her left arm stretched out before her, her palm facing outward. "Don't touch me! Don't come any closer!"
A look of shock and bewilderment came over Carrie. "Why? What's the matter, honey? We're your friends. We're not going to hurt you."
"I don't know," Angel answered. "Just...don't. Stay away!" She pulled back her outstretched arm and slowly ran it over the length of her face. For just a split-second Chris could have sworn he saw her eyes take on a reddish, satanic glow and briefly roll back into her head before returning to normal. That couldn't have been a trick of the light.
"It's okay, Angel," said Carrie. "We'll stay right here. After all you've been through, you're probably in shock or something."
Chris said firmly, "That's not Angel. It may not even be human."
Sam looked at him quizzically. "What have you been smoking, man? Is this thin air getting to your brain?"
"I'm just saying..."
"Look," Carrie interrupted, tossing a quick glance Chris and Sam's way, "why don't we all just take a deep breath and calm down, okay?" Looking her friend squarely in the eye, she said, "Angel...honey...it's alright. Here, take my hand. I'm your friend." Carrie stepped forward and placed her hand in Angel's. "We'll go slowly, at first. Okay? We all have to get out of here," she implored.
The moment she turned away, Angel released her grip from Carrie and wiped away a wisp of hair from her brow. "Wait," she pleaded. "We can't go just yet."
"Why not? What's the matter?" inquired Carrie, turning back to her.
"There's some unfinished business to take care of." She ran her fingers through a few strands of hair, and then pressed them lightly against her right temple, as if trying to fight off a headache.
The pain inside grew, even as Angel shouted back against the voice, but it only screamed louder.
Do it! Do it now!
Please, no! I can't! They're my friends!
You must do it! Complete your task or you shall die!
"You okay, girl?" asked a half-nonchalant Sam.
"Yeah, I'm fine. I just..."
A thunderclap, as loud as the eruption of Pompeii, tore through the sky, signaling the arrival of the storm of the week barreling through the valley. Carrie, Sam and Chris glared out the jagged opening in the wall behind them and wondered how long it would take for the landscape to flood. Reaching to the horizon, they could see beyond and below them forested hills, interspersed with fielded glades and rocky mesas. They could very well stay where they were, sheltered from the rains to come. But at the same time, they wanted to escape Poe's wrath and find a way back home. Besides, how were they going to reach the plains below? The house was situated a mere twenty yards from the edge of a seemingly mile-high cliff. The only way out appeared to be through the front door, the arrival of which was made more difficult by the maze of caverns and passageways, any one of which could either lead them right back to square one, or set them face-to-face with heaven knows what adventures--or characters.
Or even, the one character at this moment borne from Hell: Poe.
With the trio still facing the direction of the outside world before them, Angel reached behind her and pulled from the small of her back a pistol. Holding the weapon at arm's length with one fist over the other on the handle, her finger barely caressing the trigger as if pretending to comfort a wounded animal while preparing to mercifully deliver a final death blow, she ever so slightly--and try as she might, silently--cocked back the hammer. But there indeed was a sound. The kind to make one jump; the kind that shook Chris and the others out of their reverie. They turned and froze like statues, their faces white with terror, as they saw Angel pointing a gun straight at them. They weren't two feet from the edge of the opening, and a shot upon any one of them would send them flying to the ground below.
Sam stammered, "Angel! Wh-wh-where did you get that thing? What are you doing, child?"
Angel's expression was locked in a tight grip of concentration. Dark, grim concentration. She spoke in a voice which was clearly hers, yet wasn't. It was tinged with a growl which sounded like it came from the deep, evil crevices of her soul (a devil rather than an angel), indicating Chris was right upon mention of her being inhuman.
"...I have to kill you guys now," she said.
END OF CHAPTER, # TBA
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Angel raised the gun at her friends. Carrie yelled, "Angel, my God, what the hell are you doing?", who, along with the gang, had their backs against the wall. "You can't just--"
Angel fired a shot. Apparently there was still a part of her which had some control over her possessed spirit for, despite the fact that the weapon was aimed to take down one of her friends (Poe didn't care which), at the last second she tilted her arm upward. A bullet sailed over their heads--reducing macho Chris and Sam to cowering trolls--and lodged into a salamander resting on a rocky ledge in the wall behind them, separating the head from the body. A squirming, reptilian tail became tangled in the laces of Carrie's right sneaker for a second before scurrying away. Carrie shrieked.
The three of them quickly hit the ground and aimed for Angel's feet, trying to drag and hold her down. Angel fell into Chris and Sam's arms. Carrie reached over to pry the weapon from her hands, but not before another shot fired, ricocheting off the wall and sailing into the sky.
"Angel, stop! Just stop it, okay?" yelled Carrie. "What has gotten into you?"
"I-I'm sorry. It's not me, it's Poe. He's in me."
"Stop your lying, girl," scolded Chris, harshly. "Poe isn't around. We all concluded he materialized from our imagination and fear, remember? It's up to us to find our own way home."
"He won't let us go," Angel whimpered, the tears clearly in her eyes. "I told you, there's some unfinished business to take care of."
"What unfinished business? What are you talking about?" said Carrie.
Angel's eyes glowed red again, and her face distorted into the resemblance of a wolf. "I'm not going to tell you," she snarled, in a sinister male voice. "Not until I've locked you all away in my dungeon."
Carrie looked straight at Angel, then up at Chris and Sam, her eyes opened wide and her mouth closed in a tight line. Chris knelt where he was, unmoved, with a blank stare. Sam shot upright like a rocket.
"Okay, Angel," he said, "what was that?"
She turned and looked up and behind at Sam. "What was what?" she replied. She was sitting Indian-style, with her hands in her lap.
Still half-shaken with shock, Carrie whispered to Chris, "She doesn't even know when it comes out."
Chris said, "C'mon, guys. We're getting out of here."
He helped Angel up by her arm. They all stood there, glaring at the opening to the hallway leading to the rest of the house and, hopefully, out the front door and into freedom--if they could make it. And they were just about to take the first steps to start their journey when they were stopped dead in their tracks by...
They were set in a trance by a warning flashing in their heads reading, 'DANGER! ESCAPE AT YOUR OWN RISK!' A multi-colored smoky mist swirled in the hall amidst beastly grunts, growls and shadowy forms. The shadows were sliced every few seconds by lightning strikes and thunder rolls which seemed to echo the environment outside.
It was warm and dry where they stood, but at least the outdoors did not present a mysterious collection of light and sound, leading to probably demise.
The raindrops had already begun to fall. The group decided to take their chances becoming drenched until they hopefully located shelter somewhere.
Carrie, Chris and Sam cautiously stepped to the edge of the precipice and looked down. Angel was behind them. The three unpossessed kids simultaneously sucked in a breath. They were sure they were all thinking the same thing. That girl's gonna push us out of the way so she can claim this nice, big house for her very own. And this storm is a manifestation of her freakiness.
Carrie grabbed onto a long shard of slate sticking out from the wall. Chris grabbed a sizable ball of Carrie's long, wavy hair, near her shoulder.
"Ow!" she said. "Chris...Chris, let go." She looked at him for a moment and shook her head. "I've heard guys are big babies, but this is ridiculous." She nodded over to Sam. "Another fine example."
Chris was so lost in the moment he didn't even notice Sam gripping his shirt collar, holding on for dear life, and frantically biting his fingernails. Chris peered down at Sam's fist.
"Uh...honey, do you mind?" Chris said, sarcastically.
Sam immediately took his fingers out of his mouth and released his hold. He gave Chris a sheepish smirk.
"I feel bad. I feel out of place," said Angel. "I'm the only one without a joke."
Her comment was ignored.
"What's up, guys?" she continued. "Are we getting out of here so we can go home?"
"Yes," said Chris. "We're going home. Stay close."
Poe made Angel speak. "Oh, boy! I can't wait to go home and play!"
That made Carrie turn sharply around. "Angel, that will be enough! We're not playing! This isn't a game!"
"I didn't say anything," Angel whined, in her Angel voice.
Carrie, with an exasperated expression, grabbed Angel's wrist and pulled her close. What began as a reunion with their friend--straight out of a monster movie--had turned into an obnoxious romp, with Angel seemingly turning into a childlike burden that was getting in everyone's way, and needed to be dragged around and taken care of.
"Angel, can you please just keep quiet for awhile? Stick with us. We'll be home soon," pleaded Carrie.
"Okey-dokey," Angel remarked, like an eight-year-old.
Chris encroached--like a guilty trespasser--onto the grassy knoll which inclined to an embankment several yards to his right. The knoll narrowed ahead to a ledge that appeared (from where Chris and the other kids were standing) to be no wider than two feet. A bluff rose a thousand feet above them. Sam and Carrie cast their sight downward and sucked in the cold air. It burned their lungs, but they didn't care, for it proved they were alive. Below them, at the bottom of a steep drop, lay the valley, stretching as far as the eye could see, with hills rising in the distance.
From them, an eerie howl was heard, in a low pitch. A cold, winter wind? Maybe...maybe not. It sounded like either an animal crying out in pain, calling out for a mate, claiming its territory, or a cry of contentment over a predatory kill. The kids huddled together, each seeking comfort from the other. One animal's call potentially held four different motives, none of which the group hoped was for real. For all they knew, it could have been one for each of them!
A new test awaits. Perhaps Poe had more tricks up his sleeve.
The wind blew stronger, the sky grew darker, and the raindrops--which grew from a mist into a hard, steady fall--had begun to sting.
The moment the sound ceased, Chris led the team to continue on the path toward the ledge, and toward safer ground. The ledge lay before them, stretching ahead for a hundred yards, and ending in a broad field. They hoped to make it across to that expanse of space, thinking they'd be able to find a way home from there. They couldn't retreat back into the house the way they came, toward the front exit...for they already presumed chances were greater than not they would not survive the exit.
They were past the point of no return, so they had to press on. Chris took a quick glance behind to see that everyone was alright. Sam, as hard as he tried to put on a brave front, couldn't stop putting out vibes that he was the biggest chicken of all of them. Carrie stood shivering, not as much from the cold as from the fear that whatever made that howl would swoop down from the sky and gobble her up. And Angel...
Angel was gone!
Chris did a double-take. Perhaps the rain muted his view; perhaps Angel was shrouded in a cloud.
"Angel!" he cried out, frantically. "Where are you? Where's Angel?", meant for Carrie and Sam, though he shouted it to the air.
Sam was facing the wall of the cliff. "Uh, Chris...", he said, pointing a finger to his left.
"Open your eyes, you dim bulb! She's right here!" Carrie said, with an eye roll.
Chris took a moment to brace himself and focus his vision, as if he were a former blind man who had recently regained his sight, and was overcome with euphoria at the experience of seeing a flower again after many years. There, not three feet in front of him, unobstructed by a cloud or sheet of rain, stood Angel, giving him a smile and a wave. What seemed at times in their ordeal (especially the last few minutes) to be Little Miss Chatterbox had suddenly become stone silent, and it was as if her voice was her whole existence; where it led, Angel followed.
Chris returned her display of joviality with a quick, broad smile of his own--one of relief--placed his head in his hands for a moment and gave it a slight shake. He didn't dare speak his next thought aloud. I'm losing it, over here. Maybe Sam was right. This thin air is starting to get to me.
He shook it off and urged the group to continue on, with a wave of his arm. He placed his left foot onto the ledge--raised a foot off the platform--and grabbed onto a rock set into the cliff wall to hoist himself up. The others followed behind, in unison, playing a game of Simon Says.
The ledge was jagged and seemingly fragile at some points, and the kids didn't think it was a good idea for all of them to be gathered together, placing their combined weight in one area every several feet or so, despite Chris' insistence to stay close. The entire rocky protrusion constantly felt like it would give way at any second, and the prospect of the sound of all four of them simultaneously splattering across the valley floor below was a thought worse than landing softly and confronting Poe and his band of not-so-merry men in the Sherwoodn't-like-to-go-there Forest.
They were soaked to the bone by now by the driving rain, which had only now (that they thought about it) begun to let up in the slightest. It wasn't as if any of them had ever been in that predicament before, but the tension of their situation only added to the misery.
"Don't look down," Chris told them, looking down. "That's it, nice and steady. We're almost there. Go slow, and stay within arm's length." He glanced back for a second to be sure Angel was still with them, and not another disappearing act from his tortuous imagination. There she was, bringing up the rear. "Angel, you doin' okay back there?"
Angel answered with a thin smile.
"You're awfully quiet back there."
Angel struck a thoughtful pose. "Oh, yeah. That's because Carrie told me to keep quiet, remember? Only, with the way she said it, it may as well have been, 'Will you shut the hell up, you possessed little fool?'"
Carrie looked back at Angel, keeping one hand against the cliff wall to steady herself. She knew she had been put on the spot. "Angel, now you know that's not what I meant. I was just trying to get you to calm down 'cause we needed to--"
Howoo! came a soul-stirring cry from the hillsides, closer than before...and followed by several more. Owoo! Ow, ahwoo, yeooo!
Their unseen friends were back...or had never left. It would only be a matter of time before the clan and four young humans came face-to-face.
In the rain.
In the darkness.
Without so much as a weapon to give a fighting chance...unless...
The gun.
"Angel," said Chris, "do you still have your gun?"
"Yeah," she answered, reaching behind her. "I got it right--"
"Don't show it to me! Just keep it handy! You know...in case...we might need it...for something."
"Where in this type of world would you get hold of a gun?" remarked Sam.
"I don't know," she replied. "Just found it, I guess."
Carrie wanted to know, "What kind of gun is it?"
"A bright, shiny one--with a scary barrel," said Poe.
Angel looked around, innocently, like she couldn't tell where the voice was coming from. She was faced with three frustrated scowls.
"Not again!" said Carrie.
"Oh!" Angel corrected. "Again, I don't know. All I know is it's got four shots left."
"And where are you stashing the extra magazines?"
"I didn't bring any magazines. Sorry, I left my TV Guide at home," Angel spewed sarcastically. "Whatsamatta? You need your Oprah fix?"
Carrie shook her head in her hand. "No, Angel. Another set of ammo...for the weapon. How many more rounds of bullets are there?"
"None. I just grabbed the gun. It came like this."
"Well, don't lose it," barked Chris. "And don't fire it anymore unless you really have to. Those four shots left may be our only leverage for survival. No doubt we'll run into something unearthly."
Only four shots left. Even if it means one each to TAKE DOWN ALL OF YOU BRATS!, Fate chuckled to herself.
"I know. I'll be careful." The thought alone made Angel shudder. "Hey, guys...?"
Chris' troop continued to march on, slowly, fearfully, listening to Angel behind them, though she thought she was being ignored again.
"Guys, stop! Listen to me!"
The three of them turned and gave their friend their undivided attention. At that moment, with that tone, it became clear they were a family. And deep down, Angel was a carefree soul who just wanted to be loved. The baby of the family. It was beyond all decency of humanity that Poe should pick an innocent to carry out his crimes. Angel's older 'family members' felt a tiny pinprick of rage. They vowed to remember it, for it would provide the extra drive they would need to eventually take Poe down.
"We're listening, honey," said Carrie, like a concerned mother. "What is it?"
With a tear almost on the verge of appearing, Angel said, "I--I'm sorry...that I tried to kill you guys. I shot at you. I don't know what happened. I'm sorry."
Carrie acknowledged Angel's apology with a forgiving smile.
Sam piped up, "It's okay, girl. We know you didn't do it on purpose. You didn't do it on purpose, did you?"
Carrie's stored pinprick of rage bore through Sam for a second. She wanted to thrust her elbow into his gut, right there on the rocky ledge, reducing the number in the group by one.
END OF SAID CHAPTER, TBA
(To be continued...when I think of more!)
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(C) 2010, by Scott Gould
Below are some passages from something I have recently begun. It is nowhere near complete, and it does not commence from the beginning. Because of writer's block and not being sure how to start it, I have decided to just have a few sections here and there--for the parts I am sure of--and then tie them all together later.
Relentless Devil
Genre: Teen/Young Adult Fiction, Sci-fi/Horror, Thriller, Adventure
Influences: Christopher Pike, Dean Koontz
Four teens must prevent the evil resurrection of Edgar Allan Poe.
Beginning:
The frisbee flew through the air, coasting on a breeze, which seemed to tauntingly carry it away from its intended target. Chris just barely caught the edge with his fingertips, but couldn't keep his balance, and tumbled to the ground. He wound up in a fetal position, clutching the toy to his chest as if it were a football. How he wished it were; this would make excellent practice time. He was the quarterback of the football team, killing time near the front plaza of school with Sam, his star receiver.
Chris tried in vain not to look foolish in this act of bravado, for at the last moment, he caught sight of two of the finest female forms he ever imagined existed: Carrie and her best friend, Angel.
Angel always seemed to scream the loudest, and jump up and down with the most enthusiasm, when the two boys combined for a big score on the field--even if she told herself it was just part of her job. Chris sometimes entertained a fantasy of thinking it was nothing more than a big show, meant for him. It was all he had. He knew he would never make a score with her, after the game. She probably saw him as a guy not worth giving a second thought to; just another one of her teasing conquests.
Chris picked himself up off the ground and blew a tuft of grass from his mouth. Angel saw him catch the frisbee and land in the dirt. As she passed by, she leaned slightly forward, placed her hands on her knees, and exclaimed, "Good boy! Would you like a biscuit?" Then she straightened up, looked at Carrie, and they both giggled as they continued on their way.
Chris walked back to where Sam was standing, still watching the girls...especially Angel...the rear view...in her cheerleading outfit. He shook his head. "Moves like a goddess, treats me like a dog," he muttered.
"Chris...man, why do you even bother?" cajoled Sam. "You know she's way out of your league."
"Says who?"
"Well...Jake Christiani, for one. They're together, you know. He could snap you in two like a twig, and wouldn't think twice about it, either."
"Oh, yeah? The Angel's dating the Devil?" quipped Chris, watching the girls blend into the crowd of other kids waiting to board the bus for the trip.
"Does everyone on campus but you know about this? Forget it, dude. There's plenty other fish..."
"No...not like her. She's special. And one day, I'm going to prove to her that I'm special, too." He looked back at Sam. "So what if she's from the right side of the tracks? And her father struts around like he owns half this town?"
"He does."
"Big deal. That don't mean squat in the book of love. I know I'm nothing now, but things have a way of working out, if you know what I mean." He glanced back toward the crowd and spotted Angel. She caught him eyeing her for a second before quickly turning away. She gave him a thin, momentary smile, as a show of courtesy. "Things are going to change."
"Yeah, right, okay...whatever you say, buddy."
"I'm serious. One day, I'm gonna be someone and do something. I'm gonna save the world for her." In one motion, Chris shoved the frisbee at his friend and gave him a slap on his shoulder before joining the group for the field trip. "You comin', pal?"
"In a minute. Give me a few seconds to absorb the impact of your delusion," Sam answered, with a wide, sarcastic grin.
Chris responded with a smirk.
Angel was about to take the first step onto the bus, when an arm grabbed hers and stopped her. "Excuse me, young lady, but you're not going on this trip dressed like that. You need to wear regular clothes. This is no different than any other ordinary day."
"But...but, I had an early practice. My clothes are in my locker. I didn't think I had time to change."
"I didn't make the rules."
"Please, sir...I can go back and get them. I'll be quick about it. When do we leave?"
The gruff gentleman looked at his watch impatiently. "Hurry. You've got ten minutes."
"Thank you. Please don't take off without me. I'll be right back."
And with that, Angel scurried back toward the main building faster than a frisbee on a taunting breeze.
Chris bit his lower lip as he watched her run, her skirt swaying in the wind. She caught his eye again, and glanced back, giving another smile--much longer-lasting and less thinly-veiled than before.
Chris' proclamation apparently was overheard by the powers-that-be, and they decided to give him a helping hand. His luck was destined to change, and he would get the opportunity to present to the object of his affection a new world saved just for her. Though, in spite of the reward, Chris had no idea just how hard it would be.
Chris also had no idea that Angel secretly liked him, despite her behavior. Shy, playing hard-to-get, it was difficult for her to make her true feelings known.
Random Passage (later):
Chris, Sam and Carrie stood at the far edge of the room, the gaping chasm behind them where the explosion obliterated the wall. There were blank looks on their faces, but in their hearts and minds stood a sense of disbelief. At the other end of the hallway was Angel. She looked more like an escapee from a POW camp than the bright-eyed, energetic soul they had come to know and love. Her clothing was severely torn to shreds, and both it and much of her face, neck and arms were covered with dirt, grime and blood stains--some dried, some not. Her trademark mane of lustrous brown hair had turned into something resembling a disheveled rat's nest, and there were what appeared to be gnats scurrying mindlessly about her head. Maybe it was just a trick of the light, or maybe Angel's friends were losing their minds--or had already lost them. Either way, they were hallucinating. This girl was supposed to be dead! They were sure of it! They distinctly recall kneeling down beside her broken and battered body, her short life snuffed out from the horror they all had endured since the beginning of their sentence. Or had she just given up the fight? It's been said that some people would rather let go in a moment of weakness than continue a futile struggle. Carrie knew she touched flesh when she held her friend's hand, the tears streaming down her face so forcefully that they might, at any moment, churn into a river and carry them all away into oblivion.
"Angel?" affirmed Chris, though even he could not believe his own ears. "Is that really you?" He looked at Sam and Carrie for a moment, then returned his gaze.
"Yeah, I'm here," she replied.
"We thought you were dead," said Carrie.
"I am...but I'm not. Sort of. I don't know. I sure feel dead. But I'm up and walking. And you can see and hear me."
"Yeah, we sure can," Carrie said softly, with a slight smile, the first to cross her lips since she last saw her friend fully alive, and who had now come back to her. Carrie began to move toward her, her arms starting to stretch out to give a hug. Chris and Sam took a step forward, following her.
"No!" Angel cried out, with her left arm stretched out before her, her palm facing outward. "Don't touch me! Don't come any closer!"
A look of shock and bewilderment came over Carrie. "Why? What's the matter, honey? We're your friends. We're not going to hurt you."
"I don't know," Angel answered. "Just...don't. Stay away!" She pulled back her outstretched arm and slowly ran it over the length of her face. For just a split-second Chris could have sworn he saw her eyes take on a reddish, satanic glow and briefly roll back into her head before returning to normal. That couldn't have been a trick of the light.
"It's okay, Angel," said Carrie. "We'll stay right here. After all you've been through, you're probably in shock or something."
Chris said firmly, "That's not Angel. It may not even be human."
Sam looked at him quizzically. "What have you been smoking, man? Is this thin air getting to your brain?"
"I'm just saying..."
"Look," Carrie interrupted, tossing a quick glance Chris and Sam's way, "why don't we all just take a deep breath and calm down, okay?" Looking her friend squarely in the eye, she said, "Angel...honey...it's alright. Here, take my hand. I'm your friend." Carrie stepped forward and placed her hand in Angel's. "We'll go slowly, at first. Okay? We all have to get out of here," she implored.
The moment she turned away, Angel released her grip from Carrie and wiped away a wisp of hair from her brow. "Wait," she pleaded. "We can't go just yet."
"Why not? What's the matter?" inquired Carrie, turning back to her.
"There's some unfinished business to take care of." She ran her fingers through a few strands of hair, and then pressed them lightly against her right temple, as if trying to fight off a headache.
The pain inside grew, even as Angel shouted back against the voice, but it only screamed louder.
Do it! Do it now!
Please, no! I can't! They're my friends!
You must do it! Complete your task or you shall die!
"You okay, girl?" asked a half-nonchalant Sam.
"Yeah, I'm fine. I just..."
A thunderclap, as loud as the eruption of Pompeii, tore through the sky, signaling the arrival of the storm of the week barreling through the valley. Carrie, Sam and Chris glared out the jagged opening in the wall behind them and wondered how long it would take for the landscape to flood. Reaching to the horizon, they could see beyond and below them forested hills, interspersed with fielded glades and rocky mesas. They could very well stay where they were, sheltered from the rains to come. But at the same time, they wanted to escape Poe's wrath and find a way back home. Besides, how were they going to reach the plains below? The house was situated a mere twenty yards from the edge of a seemingly mile-high cliff. The only way out appeared to be through the front door, the arrival of which was made more difficult by the maze of caverns and passageways, any one of which could either lead them right back to square one, or set them face-to-face with heaven knows what adventures--or characters.
Or even, the one character at this moment borne from Hell: Poe.
With the trio still facing the direction of the outside world before them, Angel reached behind her and pulled from the small of her back a pistol. Holding the weapon at arm's length with one fist over the other on the handle, her finger barely caressing the trigger as if pretending to comfort a wounded animal while preparing to mercifully deliver a final death blow, she ever so slightly--and try as she might, silently--cocked back the hammer. But there indeed was a sound. The kind to make one jump; the kind that shook Chris and the others out of their reverie. They turned and froze like statues, their faces white with terror, as they saw Angel pointing a gun straight at them. They weren't two feet from the edge of the opening, and a shot upon any one of them would send them flying to the ground below.
Sam stammered, "Angel! Wh-wh-where did you get that thing? What are you doing, child?"
Angel's expression was locked in a tight grip of concentration. Dark, grim concentration. She spoke in a voice which was clearly hers, yet wasn't. It was tinged with a growl which sounded like it came from the deep, evil crevices of her soul (a devil rather than an angel), indicating Chris was right upon mention of her being inhuman.
"...I have to kill you guys now," she said.
END OF CHAPTER, # TBA
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Angel raised the gun at her friends. Carrie yelled, "Angel, my God, what the hell are you doing?", who, along with the gang, had their backs against the wall. "You can't just--"
Angel fired a shot. Apparently there was still a part of her which had some control over her possessed spirit for, despite the fact that the weapon was aimed to take down one of her friends (Poe didn't care which), at the last second she tilted her arm upward. A bullet sailed over their heads--reducing macho Chris and Sam to cowering trolls--and lodged into a salamander resting on a rocky ledge in the wall behind them, separating the head from the body. A squirming, reptilian tail became tangled in the laces of Carrie's right sneaker for a second before scurrying away. Carrie shrieked.
The three of them quickly hit the ground and aimed for Angel's feet, trying to drag and hold her down. Angel fell into Chris and Sam's arms. Carrie reached over to pry the weapon from her hands, but not before another shot fired, ricocheting off the wall and sailing into the sky.
"Angel, stop! Just stop it, okay?" yelled Carrie. "What has gotten into you?"
"I-I'm sorry. It's not me, it's Poe. He's in me."
"Stop your lying, girl," scolded Chris, harshly. "Poe isn't around. We all concluded he materialized from our imagination and fear, remember? It's up to us to find our own way home."
"He won't let us go," Angel whimpered, the tears clearly in her eyes. "I told you, there's some unfinished business to take care of."
"What unfinished business? What are you talking about?" said Carrie.
Angel's eyes glowed red again, and her face distorted into the resemblance of a wolf. "I'm not going to tell you," she snarled, in a sinister male voice. "Not until I've locked you all away in my dungeon."
Carrie looked straight at Angel, then up at Chris and Sam, her eyes opened wide and her mouth closed in a tight line. Chris knelt where he was, unmoved, with a blank stare. Sam shot upright like a rocket.
"Okay, Angel," he said, "what was that?"
She turned and looked up and behind at Sam. "What was what?" she replied. She was sitting Indian-style, with her hands in her lap.
Still half-shaken with shock, Carrie whispered to Chris, "She doesn't even know when it comes out."
Chris said, "C'mon, guys. We're getting out of here."
He helped Angel up by her arm. They all stood there, glaring at the opening to the hallway leading to the rest of the house and, hopefully, out the front door and into freedom--if they could make it. And they were just about to take the first steps to start their journey when they were stopped dead in their tracks by...
They were set in a trance by a warning flashing in their heads reading, 'DANGER! ESCAPE AT YOUR OWN RISK!' A multi-colored smoky mist swirled in the hall amidst beastly grunts, growls and shadowy forms. The shadows were sliced every few seconds by lightning strikes and thunder rolls which seemed to echo the environment outside.
It was warm and dry where they stood, but at least the outdoors did not present a mysterious collection of light and sound, leading to probably demise.
The raindrops had already begun to fall. The group decided to take their chances becoming drenched until they hopefully located shelter somewhere.
Carrie, Chris and Sam cautiously stepped to the edge of the precipice and looked down. Angel was behind them. The three unpossessed kids simultaneously sucked in a breath. They were sure they were all thinking the same thing. That girl's gonna push us out of the way so she can claim this nice, big house for her very own. And this storm is a manifestation of her freakiness.
Carrie grabbed onto a long shard of slate sticking out from the wall. Chris grabbed a sizable ball of Carrie's long, wavy hair, near her shoulder.
"Ow!" she said. "Chris...Chris, let go." She looked at him for a moment and shook her head. "I've heard guys are big babies, but this is ridiculous." She nodded over to Sam. "Another fine example."
Chris was so lost in the moment he didn't even notice Sam gripping his shirt collar, holding on for dear life, and frantically biting his fingernails. Chris peered down at Sam's fist.
"Uh...honey, do you mind?" Chris said, sarcastically.
Sam immediately took his fingers out of his mouth and released his hold. He gave Chris a sheepish smirk.
"I feel bad. I feel out of place," said Angel. "I'm the only one without a joke."
Her comment was ignored.
"What's up, guys?" she continued. "Are we getting out of here so we can go home?"
"Yes," said Chris. "We're going home. Stay close."
Poe made Angel speak. "Oh, boy! I can't wait to go home and play!"
That made Carrie turn sharply around. "Angel, that will be enough! We're not playing! This isn't a game!"
"I didn't say anything," Angel whined, in her Angel voice.
Carrie, with an exasperated expression, grabbed Angel's wrist and pulled her close. What began as a reunion with their friend--straight out of a monster movie--had turned into an obnoxious romp, with Angel seemingly turning into a childlike burden that was getting in everyone's way, and needed to be dragged around and taken care of.
"Angel, can you please just keep quiet for awhile? Stick with us. We'll be home soon," pleaded Carrie.
"Okey-dokey," Angel remarked, like an eight-year-old.
Chris encroached--like a guilty trespasser--onto the grassy knoll which inclined to an embankment several yards to his right. The knoll narrowed ahead to a ledge that appeared (from where Chris and the other kids were standing) to be no wider than two feet. A bluff rose a thousand feet above them. Sam and Carrie cast their sight downward and sucked in the cold air. It burned their lungs, but they didn't care, for it proved they were alive. Below them, at the bottom of a steep drop, lay the valley, stretching as far as the eye could see, with hills rising in the distance.
From them, an eerie howl was heard, in a low pitch. A cold, winter wind? Maybe...maybe not. It sounded like either an animal crying out in pain, calling out for a mate, claiming its territory, or a cry of contentment over a predatory kill. The kids huddled together, each seeking comfort from the other. One animal's call potentially held four different motives, none of which the group hoped was for real. For all they knew, it could have been one for each of them!
A new test awaits. Perhaps Poe had more tricks up his sleeve.
The wind blew stronger, the sky grew darker, and the raindrops--which grew from a mist into a hard, steady fall--had begun to sting.
The moment the sound ceased, Chris led the team to continue on the path toward the ledge, and toward safer ground. The ledge lay before them, stretching ahead for a hundred yards, and ending in a broad field. They hoped to make it across to that expanse of space, thinking they'd be able to find a way home from there. They couldn't retreat back into the house the way they came, toward the front exit...for they already presumed chances were greater than not they would not survive the exit.
They were past the point of no return, so they had to press on. Chris took a quick glance behind to see that everyone was alright. Sam, as hard as he tried to put on a brave front, couldn't stop putting out vibes that he was the biggest chicken of all of them. Carrie stood shivering, not as much from the cold as from the fear that whatever made that howl would swoop down from the sky and gobble her up. And Angel...
Angel was gone!
Chris did a double-take. Perhaps the rain muted his view; perhaps Angel was shrouded in a cloud.
"Angel!" he cried out, frantically. "Where are you? Where's Angel?", meant for Carrie and Sam, though he shouted it to the air.
Sam was facing the wall of the cliff. "Uh, Chris...", he said, pointing a finger to his left.
"Open your eyes, you dim bulb! She's right here!" Carrie said, with an eye roll.
Chris took a moment to brace himself and focus his vision, as if he were a former blind man who had recently regained his sight, and was overcome with euphoria at the experience of seeing a flower again after many years. There, not three feet in front of him, unobstructed by a cloud or sheet of rain, stood Angel, giving him a smile and a wave. What seemed at times in their ordeal (especially the last few minutes) to be Little Miss Chatterbox had suddenly become stone silent, and it was as if her voice was her whole existence; where it led, Angel followed.
Chris returned her display of joviality with a quick, broad smile of his own--one of relief--placed his head in his hands for a moment and gave it a slight shake. He didn't dare speak his next thought aloud. I'm losing it, over here. Maybe Sam was right. This thin air is starting to get to me.
He shook it off and urged the group to continue on, with a wave of his arm. He placed his left foot onto the ledge--raised a foot off the platform--and grabbed onto a rock set into the cliff wall to hoist himself up. The others followed behind, in unison, playing a game of Simon Says.
The ledge was jagged and seemingly fragile at some points, and the kids didn't think it was a good idea for all of them to be gathered together, placing their combined weight in one area every several feet or so, despite Chris' insistence to stay close. The entire rocky protrusion constantly felt like it would give way at any second, and the prospect of the sound of all four of them simultaneously splattering across the valley floor below was a thought worse than landing softly and confronting Poe and his band of not-so-merry men in the Sherwoodn't-like-to-go-there Forest.
They were soaked to the bone by now by the driving rain, which had only now (that they thought about it) begun to let up in the slightest. It wasn't as if any of them had ever been in that predicament before, but the tension of their situation only added to the misery.
"Don't look down," Chris told them, looking down. "That's it, nice and steady. We're almost there. Go slow, and stay within arm's length." He glanced back for a second to be sure Angel was still with them, and not another disappearing act from his tortuous imagination. There she was, bringing up the rear. "Angel, you doin' okay back there?"
Angel answered with a thin smile.
"You're awfully quiet back there."
Angel struck a thoughtful pose. "Oh, yeah. That's because Carrie told me to keep quiet, remember? Only, with the way she said it, it may as well have been, 'Will you shut the hell up, you possessed little fool?'"
Carrie looked back at Angel, keeping one hand against the cliff wall to steady herself. She knew she had been put on the spot. "Angel, now you know that's not what I meant. I was just trying to get you to calm down 'cause we needed to--"
Howoo! came a soul-stirring cry from the hillsides, closer than before...and followed by several more. Owoo! Ow, ahwoo, yeooo!
Their unseen friends were back...or had never left. It would only be a matter of time before the clan and four young humans came face-to-face.
In the rain.
In the darkness.
Without so much as a weapon to give a fighting chance...unless...
The gun.
"Angel," said Chris, "do you still have your gun?"
"Yeah," she answered, reaching behind her. "I got it right--"
"Don't show it to me! Just keep it handy! You know...in case...we might need it...for something."
"Where in this type of world would you get hold of a gun?" remarked Sam.
"I don't know," she replied. "Just found it, I guess."
Carrie wanted to know, "What kind of gun is it?"
"A bright, shiny one--with a scary barrel," said Poe.
Angel looked around, innocently, like she couldn't tell where the voice was coming from. She was faced with three frustrated scowls.
"Not again!" said Carrie.
"Oh!" Angel corrected. "Again, I don't know. All I know is it's got four shots left."
"And where are you stashing the extra magazines?"
"I didn't bring any magazines. Sorry, I left my TV Guide at home," Angel spewed sarcastically. "Whatsamatta? You need your Oprah fix?"
Carrie shook her head in her hand. "No, Angel. Another set of ammo...for the weapon. How many more rounds of bullets are there?"
"None. I just grabbed the gun. It came like this."
"Well, don't lose it," barked Chris. "And don't fire it anymore unless you really have to. Those four shots left may be our only leverage for survival. No doubt we'll run into something unearthly."
Only four shots left. Even if it means one each to TAKE DOWN ALL OF YOU BRATS!, Fate chuckled to herself.
"I know. I'll be careful." The thought alone made Angel shudder. "Hey, guys...?"
Chris' troop continued to march on, slowly, fearfully, listening to Angel behind them, though she thought she was being ignored again.
"Guys, stop! Listen to me!"
The three of them turned and gave their friend their undivided attention. At that moment, with that tone, it became clear they were a family. And deep down, Angel was a carefree soul who just wanted to be loved. The baby of the family. It was beyond all decency of humanity that Poe should pick an innocent to carry out his crimes. Angel's older 'family members' felt a tiny pinprick of rage. They vowed to remember it, for it would provide the extra drive they would need to eventually take Poe down.
"We're listening, honey," said Carrie, like a concerned mother. "What is it?"
With a tear almost on the verge of appearing, Angel said, "I--I'm sorry...that I tried to kill you guys. I shot at you. I don't know what happened. I'm sorry."
Carrie acknowledged Angel's apology with a forgiving smile.
Sam piped up, "It's okay, girl. We know you didn't do it on purpose. You didn't do it on purpose, did you?"
Carrie's stored pinprick of rage bore through Sam for a second. She wanted to thrust her elbow into his gut, right there on the rocky ledge, reducing the number in the group by one.
END OF SAID CHAPTER, TBA
(To be continued...when I think of more!)
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(C) 2010, by Scott Gould