Chapter one
A night of repentance
The earth stood still. A man hovered over the trees; he bent over the thick branch and swung through the forest with inhuman speed. He toppled over, grunted and ran with great swiftness. He was injured. A cut formed down his cheek with blood pouring down his neck, his chocolate hair was tussled over, joining in with small branches and dirt from the ground. He wore a black cloak; it was ripped from his legs that revealed several cuts and bruises. He can barely walk, but the stench of noble blood was still in him, and he knows they would find him soon. He was still shocked, petrified from what he had discovered.
“The message has to be delivered” He panted repeatedly, gripping his bloody arm so the blood would stay inside.
The breeze came abruptly, as he smelled an unfamiliar odor. He stumbled down and slid into the bushes, feeling the cold night flowing inside his body, and listening to the sounds of the silent woods. He grabbed the small bloody knife from his side and readied for his attack.
He waited. Breathed heavily, and peered his eyes outside the shrubs. A figure stood at the end of the trees, it was crouched, with eyes sparkling like gold, talking to its company. The two of them looked at him, they knew he was here. They came closer, until they were inches away from the bush where the injured man was standing. He was trembling in fear; he hadn’t noticed the noise he was making with his metal knife. Sweat poured in with the blood from his head, coming down his eyes. As he blinked, a hand rummaged through the bushes, and touched his.
Adrenaline rushed through his body, and made him defend for his half dead life. His hand clutched the peculiar hand and threw it away. He stabbed its palms which screamed in pain. He jumped outside the bushes and formed a yellow ray from his hand. He shot the bolt from the shadows chest, splitting into two; therefore can kill the both of them with one strike, though they dodged quickly, making it difficult for the man to kill them.
He stopped and panted, when he saw that they weren’t what he had expected. His wishes had finally come true. The two were his fellow Chromes; they haven’t seen each other for weeks since the attack. They were wearing black robes, tied with white belts.
The one that he stabbed took the knife off his hand and sneered at him for his hastiness. He had a broad, masculine face, a scar formed from under his left eye, going downwards his right cheek. His turquoise hair was fixed in every direction, as if he would look like he just got up in bed. He was tanned, contrasting his azure eyes.
The one smiling at the back was a woman with an elfin face. She looked human, except from her jade hair and her golden eyes. She was slender and pale, but exceedingly beautiful and fair.
At the sight of the two, the wounded man collapsed with such loss of energy and relief. The scarred man carried him on the back, careful enough to be gentle for his wounds, and nodded to his companion.
They had come to retrieve their friend, and now they have gotten what they wanted. They were about to go when a rush went to the trees, and caused them to sway with such strength it destroyed half of the forest. The clouds became dark, wind rushed through their shocked faces. The elfin lady called out “Marcus! Let’s go!”
However it was too late. The Rathians had caught them. They were different from any human. Though they have a normal human body, their cheeks grow small horns and their eyes as bloody as always. They have a shaven head and fangs come out of their mouths. Although they are big and terrifying, they are remarkably dense; these monsters only rely on their masters for their own survival. The Rathians that surrounded them were all wearing armors made from bronze and in their hands, two large wooden cloves.
The two of them were outnumbered, and with their companion half-dead, they have no time to fight, they would have to make a run for it. They have to make a distraction first; they knew they would never stand a chance in two against ten Rathians.
They felt the earth. The Rathians would only attack the first thing they see move, the most effective way to survive is to keep still. The elfin woman carefully slid her hand in her torso and pulled out a knife. Unfortunately, the Rathian spotted it and as quick as lightning, she pierced the knife on the Rathian’s lower ribcage. Blood disgorged out from the monster’s stomach as the other’s noticed it. They have no choice but to fight.
With his bare boot, the scarred man jerked the Rathian beside him that flew in right through the other and stumbled like a domino that made an opening for them to escape in. They ran with unbelievable speed, however many came in their way.
The elfin woman leaped over her companion to face the Rathians. She balanced her feet swiftly and positioned her hands in front of her. “Ballata del morti!” she announced, while the Rathians came darting toward them. A shot of crimson beam let out from her fists and cut the enemies in half in a split second. Despite the fact that many are still coming their way, they are still running fast paced. The elfin woman served as a shield, as she flew and beat the Rathians, all in a single blow. The scarred man ran with great velocity, for his strength is focused on getting the wounded man to safety. Another came pass them; it was huge, nothing like they’ve ever seen. Its face was of a wild boar, and a masculine body. It roared in displeasure as it came jolting toward them. It was the only thing standing between the exit and them. “Cefi!” the woman screamed in range while she pulled out a three feet gold sword from her robes, and threw it in the monster’s right eye. It cried in pain, with a screeching voice.
“CEFI!” the woman continued to yell, as she bolted toward the monster, plucked her bloody blade and sliced it in between its body. It disintegrated as soon as it screamed in pain.
She slid back the ground with a sliding sound. Her body crouched and ready for more, her face full of dirt and blood, but under it her splendor still shone under the moonlight, her hand still clutching her blade with such tightness in the thought of many other creatures to come.
“Silicy, get moving!” Marcus called from behind. It seemed like he never stopped running. The exit was only inches away, and they were still slow. The forest was playing tricks on them. The more they got closer the way out, the farther it gets to them. “It’s a trap!” Marcus said icily.
“We are in the presence of a Cefi,” Silicy murmured, as she readied her sword once more, a sudden blow came in, in a form of a whisper. “Don’t try to run…” it sighed, forming a human body from the wind; a man is wearing a black suit, covering his face with a black fedora hat. His hands were slid in with white gloves, with a dragon ring tightly locked in his middle finger. “You’ll only make it worse…”
Sicily turned sideways to instruct Marcus toward the exit, but they were outnumbered again by hundreds of Rathians. “Marcus! Go up!” Sicily yelled, but he, too, froze.
“Give me the prophecy, and I’ll let you go…” The unknown man ordered.
Sicily tried to call attention to Marcus, but still he never looked back. “Marcus! MARCUS!” She yelled, sweats pouring down her face, as the unnamed man unsheathed his sword and pointed it to her throat, and she eventually became dead silent.
“The prophecy?” He asked coldly.
“We don’t have it…” Sicily gulped in fear.
“Never lie to me, Sicily.”
“We. Don’t. Have. It.”
“Then, die!”
He took the sword inches from her heart and aimed to strike. “Marcus, go now!” She commanded quickly, as soon as she saw Marcus regained consciousness. He bounded over the tall branches and made his way to the top of the trees.
“After them! They have the prophecy!” The unnamed man ordered to his Rathians whom half of which followed. He turned once again to the trembling Sicily who closed her eyes in agreement to her death. The unknown man raised his sword to cut her in half in a split second.
Just when she was about to die in pain, time had stopped. The unnamed man was grabbed by a colossal hand, made of compressed air. He was thrown back to the massive trees and became unconscious. Sicily looked surprised herself. The one, who saved her, isn’t actually the one she expected to be. Her savior had black long hair tied into a tail and a young face; he was pale, but extremely healthy. His eyes were like two dark holes that had no bottom, Sicily felt like falling down when she saw them. He was wearing a black hooded cloak, with a white scarf wrapped around his neck. And, held by his hand, a five foot black flaming scythe with black symbols embedded on the snaith.
At his back stood his cohort, a middle aged man with a pale skin, his face was expressionless though with a mix of anger and curiosity. He looked very much like the young boy, with black eyes and slightly long curly hair. He wore a black slender coat tied together by a white belt. At his torso, a three feet sword hung, with a black blade and a white hilt.
“Colonel Conner Tubs and his son Herell Tubs?” Silicy whispered, for she knows she was in trouble. “You want the prophecy too, I suppose?” She said.
“We came here to take you…we had already captured your friends.” Herell announced. The man he threw was conscious once more. He launched Herell with a loud fuming cry of pain, but Herell stayed calm as he swayed his scythe back and waited for him to get closer. He ripped the unknown man into shreds, who evaporated, spilling no blood on the floor. Herell looked disgusted as he looked at the dust and dirt, the unknown man’s ugly remains.
“Filthy Cefis, they don’t know how to think straight.” He turned to Silicy. “But perhaps you know all about them, now don’t you, Silicy Hammond?”
“I believe I do, Herell Tubs. You know as well as I do, a Cefi killed my parents, though they were outnumbered.” Silicy said, backing away gently.
“Hammond, you are under arrest, for crimes of murder and treachery. The same goes for your companions. By this night you will be thrown to jail in Sexaruz for three years, by the time of June thirteenth, you would be executed by the torments of the Xyrons.”
Silicy had found a way for her to escape but the wind was on her enemies’ side. It blocked her way and filled her lungs which caused her to be out cold. She gasped for a moment. “The prophecy-the prophecy is coming true! By this night- the offspring shall bound evil for eternity- and the authorities will be against her- she will destroy all laws and make-” By then, she fell cold.
Chapter two
The child and the prophecy
Somewhere deep in the forest, two men approached each other, both clutching a three foot silver sword. They made a stance, and pointed each other’s blade at the chest, ready to stab one another. This time of night, no one should trust one another, it might be the own cost of your life.
But the moment they noticed each other’s faces, they lowered their sword and sheathed them, their eyes still locked at each other’s eyes, waiting for someone to speak.
“We had them, but they escaped. Our team only managed to capture two.” Said the man with the grey eyes. He had chestnut coloured hair, combed to perfection. He wore a brown suit and dangling by his side is his silver sword. “I left before they locked them up… he’s still alive Balthern, he’s loose!”
“I understand.” Balthern comprehended as he slid his sword in his black coloured scabbard that hung behind his back. His long dark brown hair tied to a tress and his deep blue eyes focused on the dark blue sky. He wore black dress robes and crooked old shoes. He gazed impatiently for a sign, someone to tell him it was alright to move, but none did.
The moonlight crept up his spine as his hairs stood up one by one. No one made a sound, though whispers came up his head. The voices of someone he once knew, one in particular, his best friend, who sacrificed himself to save all of them.
Then, he heard noises. But this time, it was close. “Harrison, get the Chromes.” He said in a low voice. His friend quivered in surprise, grasping his sword. “Take them here as fast as you can, understand?”
But Harrison had already frozen in shock. Behind them, Vermiel Vedmenten, one of the elite guardians, stood. His long hair as dark as the oldest oak tree flowing down his broad back. He looked alarmed, clutching his wooden bow and gritting his teeth while he stared at the two. He looked elfish, though taller, with pointed ears and a sharp nose. He wore a green cloak that matches his eyes perfectly, and combat boots, like the ones of a hunter.
With him is the council’s chief official, Ganderous Bolter, in his usual clothing; white collared shirt covered in a deep blue veil. He had burnet eyes and black hair with strikes of white. He was older than Vedmenten, though he showed greater fear in his eyes. He looked unwell, he may perhaps threw up in front of them, though knowing that he was still the chief official, he chuckled warily. “G-Gentleman…w-wonderful e-evening.”
Harrison and Balthern locked eyes and both looked at Bolter’s frightened face. He grinned anxiously, like he was hiding something from behind their back.
“Chief official Ganderous Bolter, what brings you here, and with Guardian Vedmenten?” asked Harrison thoughtfully, but it seems hard for the two to answer his question. It was an awkward moment, until Bolter laughed cautiously. Vedmenten stopped him and his chuckle eventually died.
“Sargosius would want to see you, now.” Vedmenten said, and walked between two twined mahogany trees. He whispered enchantments, spells, and charms while the trees made a way for them to walk in; it was a portal.
They were about to walk in when they felt an unusual presence.
Colonel Conner Tubs and Herell Tubs came in behind them, holding the prisoner Silicy Hammond, now with a metal collar tied around her neck that prevents her from escaping. She looked drained out; her eyes were surrounded with dark circles, and her ivory skin now pale from exhaustion.
Balthern ran up next to Silicy and held the chains that ended up in Herell’s grip. “Silicy, what happened to you?”
She couldn’t speak. Though she wanted to explain a lot of things to him, the collar prevented her.
“She’s a criminal Balthern, you have to remember that.” Herell Tubs clarified. He stretched the chains and dragged her along the way. His father followed.
“Tubs, what’s the meaning of this?” Vedmenten frowned.
“We need to get to Sexaruz immediately to make arrangements for a wide massacre in three days time.” Colonel Conner Tubs said. “We already chained down two of them, and we would get more, I assure it.”
“The Tubs family is noble, I know. Though they don’t have the right to order a wide massacre for the threats, that power still remains in the hands of the Head guardian.”
Colonel Tubs laughed but he looked offended. “By the looks of it, Guardian Vedmenten, you’re questioning my powers, and thus targeting my whole family.”
“What if I am?”
“Is that a threat?”
They were about to brawl when a massive wall of fire went in between them, they quickly moved away from each other.
“YOU PEOPLE ARE A DISGRACE!” a loud roar went behind them.
He was an old man, with a bald head and a long white beard streaming down between his knees. He was crouched, eyes seemed blurred under his thick glasses, and hands that were rougher than sand holding a stiff wooden cane with a head of a dragon. He wore a black cloak that covered his feet.
Behind him stood an old woman wearing a lavender coat. She was pale though radiant and still. Her eyes were in a strict look, the color of magenta.
“You hold such a high position, though, your acts belong to children!” the old man bellowed, and then he turned to Conner Tubs “As much as I respect your rights, High Colonel Conner Tubs, Vermiel’s opinion is quite true. You do have the right to form an execution, but the authority to make an all out war, that clearly remains in the palm of my hands.”
Senior Tubs sneered in displeasure, now he knew he wouldn’t get what he wanted. But his son, Herell Tubs, made a stance, and held Silicy Hammond for Sargosius to see.
“Is this what you call loyal, High Guardian Eloth Sargosius?” Herell bloated. “If you won’t allow my father in his request, many would turn against you. How can we sort out the liars if we won’t make the first step?”
Silicy Hammond tried to protest but she’s weaker than the weakest. Her lips moved but none came out than the gasp for air. Sargosius looked hurt, though he winked at her slyly, as if reassuring her nothing bad would happen. “I value your estimation Herell Tubs, but the things that are happening right about this moment, are the most closest to me. Traitors are the furthest thing in my mind. They are indeed traitors; furthermore we cannot change what they are, instead, if guilt is on our side.”
Herell fell silent; he looked at his father who is gravely disappointed by his recklessness. “Let’s go, Herell.” Conner tapped his son at the back and ordered him to follow him to the portal, walking past Vedmenten with a mocking grin. They took the portal Vedmenten made for them to get to Sargosius but since he came in their midst, Vedmenten let them go.
Silicy Hammond took one last look at Balthern, mouthing words no one can understand. A tear flowed down her bloody cheek as the portal closed.
“Sargosius, I’m very sorry…” Vedmenten said “I don’t know-”
“No time for that, here comes our guest.” Sargosius gestured to the north, behind Vedmenten and Bolter. At first, nothing happened. The forest stayed as it was, but as the wind got stronger, the earth rumbled, and a sudden flash of yellow light came between the oak trees. A large saber-toothed tiger sprinted out. It was beautiful. Its eyes were in the colour of saffron and its fur had streaks of jet black. The rider was dressed in black; dark coat, gloves and pants with black combat boots. The only thing that contrasted his colour was a white linen cloth twined between his chest. He lighted their way with the light on his palms.
The tiger made an abrupt stop in front of Bolter who yelped in fear. Its paws splattered on the dirt which missed Vedmenten’s way but drenched Bolter in.
The rider stepped down on the tiger’s back, taking off his black helmet in order for his face to be visible. Standing in front of them is Dale Gringer. He had azure eyes and hair; a curly claret mess. He was pale, with freckles surrounding his cheeks. “Sorry I’m late.”
“You’re just in time…” Bolter muttered, wiping off the mud on his face. The panther tried to help by licking the dirt off his shoes.
“The house was- erm infested with those nasty monsters. I’m ‘bout to get killed if it weren’t for Atrous comin’ along.” Gringer said.
“The caretaker was shocked at first,” Atrous said with a purr. “After seeing me talking she fainted, so fragile.” Atrous scratched his back as soon as he finished his sentence, apparently his sentence doesn’t mean anything to him.
“The point is…” Gringer interfered “Mission accomplished.” He took out the linen cloth behind his back and carried it beneath his chest. Sargosius stepped closer, and took a peer at the thing inside it. A big pair of blue eyes surprised all of them, and short scarlet hair. She had ivory skin and such fragile arms.
He took her out of Gringer’s arms carried her single handedly. “Extraordinary, how would such a small mouse destroy such a huge snake.”
“What do you suppose we do to her, Eloth?” asked the lady wearing the lavender cloak. “We couldn’t bring her to the Society; they’ll kill her before she gets to the gate.”
“Yes. You’re correct…”
The both of them argued for a while, thinking of ways they could keep an eye on the child without her getting close to them.
“Her father never had relatives, and now her mother doesn’t” said Vedmenten. “She has nowhere to go but in the Society, which would definitely kill her.”
“But what do you want to do to her, Vermiel? Leave her on the streets?” The lavender lady protested.
“You’re not the one giving the ideas, Wulfrund. I suggest you stay silent.” Vedmenten replied.
“I wish I could say the same thing to you.”
Harrison walked past between the quarrelling Wulfrund and Vedmenten toward the troubled Sargosius, holding the sleeping infant.
“The rumors…are true, I haven’t had the chance to believe it, but now I’m seeing it before my eyes.” Harrison said.
“Indeed. Of all the pain, suffering and problems that we faced in the last weeks, many had given up hope. Yet, the light had found a way to brighten our darkest nights.”
Without a doubt, Harrison himself had cursed out hope in his heart, he had crossed everything that involves opening up his light. Darkness filled his life, but after hearing what Sargosius said, he started tearing up.
“Good Lord, why are you weeping, Harrison?” Balthern scoffed, crossing his arms.
Harrison realized he was swelling up and started drying his tears, but got worse while he did.
“I do know a place where the child can stay, Sargosius. I can drop her off it wouldn’t be a burden.” Gringer suggested.
“The orphanage? Are you mad, are you placing the child in her own personal hell?” Bolter chided.
Instead of agreeing with Bolter. Sargosius looked up. “No, the orphanage is perfect for her.”
“Eloth, would it suffice?” Wulfrund asked “Everyone is after this child; everyone would want to see her. She could be famous, a great Reaper, a great-”
“Weapon?” Sargosius added. “A weapon she would be in our world, Lycan, it’s best she would live a life away from all of that. Her father…and mother would’ve wanted it that way.”
It was an awkward minute; no one tried to protest or talked. The only sound was the rattling of trees and Atrous’ purring.
Gringer cleared his throat. “So then, I would be privileged to take the little one.”
Sargosius handed him the child. “I would take good care of her.” Gringer assured, with a stern face. Sargosius nodded while Gringer jumped on Atrous’ back. He was about to go when...
“Dale, I never got the chance to thank you,” Sargosius said “To thank all of you for having to sacrifice so much-”
“As I said, it’s a privilege to take care of this child…” Gringer grinned and took off.
Chapter three
The black party
It was a gusty morning. Pat lay asleep on the cold surface of her room. The windows were rattling as the rain fell off the dark sky. Raindrops slithered down the window pane while the girl’s in Mrs. Manny’s orphanage splashed their hands and feet in the small puddle outside the streets of Seather Road.
She was dreaming again, but it was not normal like the ones she used to have. This one was different; it was paranormal. Yes, weird, it was normal for Pat to hear that word. It won’t be long after a person would yell ‘weird’ and her head would turn around.
Like any other orphan, Pat wanted a family. She used to gaze at her old room (which was nicer and more comfortable than her present bedroom) the children who walked by, holding a familiar hand, smiling. She used to wonder, what was it like to have someone comfort you in your darkest nights? What was it like to be hugged by soft arms? What was it like to be told stories before the day ends? Is it nice to have parents? Thos were her primary questions when she was young. But Mrs. Manny, the caretaker and owner of the orphanage, reminded her long ago that she would never get adopted, that she would never get a family. ‘Who would adopt a freak like you?’ she said ‘You’re a pathetic free-loader who never pays her debt.’ Those words, for Pat, are words of encouragement. That no matter how many times Mrs. Manny would rub her thick and long neck on her, she would never feel down, she would never give up. Although, the more she ages, the more those words pierced her chest.
Mrs. Manny was plump. She had a stout figure and juicy hands. She was white, though red spots appear on her cheeks and arms especially when she’s irritated or hungry. Her brunette hair was stretched up her forehead and tied into a plait. Her small brown suit had surprisingly fitted in her abnormally large body. Her eyes were half closed because of her portly cheeks, and when she smiles her devious grin; her teeth were much bigger than her ears. She was the meanest to Pat.
Today was October twenty first. In only once in her life, parents would come in the orphanage and check on the orphans.
It’s been twelve years since she lived in the orphanage. Mrs. Manny never told Pat about her story; how she’d get there, who brought her there, did she have a family? Mrs. Manny’s excuse was “I found you freezing to death in the forest; I took you in and fed you from the food on my table, dressed you from the clothes in my wardrobe and sheltered you under the roof of my home” seemingly, her words were like she was owed by Mrs. Manny.
Tonight, would definitely be special. The wall lamps all turned on for the coming visitors. The old chandelier dangling atop the dusty ceiling was also joining the party. The floors were surprisingly clean and glossy, without leaving any speck of dirt on the ground, Pat thought that the helpers did exceedingly well with the house. Mrs. Manny wanted this night to be special, so she installed two huge red carpets that slid down the two flights of spiral staircase. In the middle of the hallway, a buffet table lined up with different varieties of sandwiches, casseroles, and drinks. Atop the kitchen ceiling, crown moldings emerged which only made the room gorgeous. A short corridor joined the kitchen and the living room. Inside two balconies faced the grand hall, where music played and streamers lined. A huge fireplace crackled and heated the room, facing two large sofas. Outside, a garden stands, which was filled with withered plants and worn out flowers. It hadn’t been touched ever since Pat could remember.
She woke up blankly from her sleep, she had dreamed again.
Pat stretched her arms and looked out her small window and was surprised by the solemn weather. She rubbed her eyes gently as she fixed her shaggy scarlet hair and let it flow on her shoulders. She changed her tattered pajama that was given to her by Mrs. Manny when she turned eight, and had been using it since today, into her peach coloured hooded jacket and faded jeans. She grabbed her frayed scarf from her small dresser.
Her room was small. The walls were wooden, with slashed scratches and multiple holes. The ceiling was covered with several cobwebs that had been the home of a giant spider whom stayed with her as long as she can remember Pat decided to call it Lucy. There were two windows that lined the right wall, and beside them lay Pat’s bunk bed with a prickly blanket. Hanging at the foot of her bed was a filthy mirror. Pat went in front of it, humming a familiar music while she tied her hair into a tress.
She had ivory skin, and deep blue eyes. Several freckles lined lying on her cheeks, but other than that she was nice.
A hard knock on the frail door surprised her, a twelve year old girl came in with beautiful black hair and a pair of expressive coffee brown eyes. Her skin is pale and her face is wide especially when she smiles, her teeth seemed to cover up her entire face. Under her woolen jacket, she wore a baby pink dress and white sandals. On top of her head a yellow sun-hat sat; knowing that it was dark and rainy outside, she set it aside Pat’s bed.
“Mornin’ Meghan.” Pat greeted.
“Good Morning Patricia Dock.” Meghan replied, showing off her teeth.
Pat grimaced. “I told you to only call me Pat, how long do I have to keep telling you that?”
Meghan Lee was transferred here from her previous orphanage in Brooklyn. She sleeps next to Pat’s room which was nicer and more comfortable. Aside from everyone else, she was the nicest to Pat, and tends to care for her like a sister. Like Pat, Meghan never knew her parent’s either.
They both left the room with smiling faces. The corridor was empty, but was decorated with signs and streamers. The other girls must have gone down already for breakfast. As assumed, the great hall was empty too.
They went straight to the dining pavilion outside the garden. There the young girls talked and ate their favorite meals prepared by a chef named Janet Khione. She was slim and pale, her chestnut hair tied into a bun, and her lilac eyes covered under her thick glasses. She served this house for years, if Pat’s analysis were correct, and is likely to be scolded by Mrs. Manny whenever she blows up the kitchen. She too, was good to Pat.
The table was lined by assorted cakes and chocolates, pancakes and bacon, sandwiches and salads. Pat took a seat but before Meghan did, her chair was snatched out behind her and she fell on the marble floor. She stood up and rubbed her behind, while laughter filled the room, but only one laughter topped all of it.
Brittany Thames, an orphan like her, but she was much more dreadful. She was pretty in a twelve year old way. Freckles surrounded her face, neck and arms. Her dark coffee coloured hair was braided into pigtails; today she wore her favorite blue dress containing several pink ribbons on her lower torso. Her teeth were adjoined with silver braces that glimmers when she talks or smiles. Beside her sat two of her mates. Twins Anna and Jenny Mason, they tend to look like their leader, except the missing freckles, blonde hair and sapphire eyes.
They had a goal, a goal that involves making Pat’s life miserable as long as she stays here. There were many other girls’ inside the orphanage like them. Treating Pat like she has no feelings, making fun of her like she’s not one of them. But it’s quite true, she felt like she never belonged in their clique.
Thames noticed the glare on Pat’s face and decided to humiliate her friend more. She beamed “I’m sorry, I was going to target you, but I got distracted by your friend’s large face.”
Pat felt like beating up the little brute but Meghan’s smile reassured her not to. She felt her ears become hot and suddenly the atmosphere around the pavilion changed into a freezing hurricane.
“Leave us alone.” Pat sneered, closing her hands into fists, blinking several times, and gritting her teeth. Thames snorted followed by his mates “Or what? You’re gonna throw your swine friend at me? You’re such a loser.”
The dark weather outside became worse as Pat fumed. Rain fell hard on the lush grass and the wind became stronger to powerful, the whole pavilion shook.
Khione went in between them. “Stop it, you two. Please calm down Ms. Dock.” As soon as she said that Pat calmed down like the weather, who cleared up as soon as she sat down.
“Freak.” Thames said under her lips. “Brute.” Pat whispered in annoyance.
Khione sighed. “Now eat.” And she left the two to munch their food.
Meghan looked at Pat while she ate, her face full of guilt. “I’m very sorry,” she said, looking down. “You could’ve gotten hurt if it weren’t for my ignorance, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m very-”
“Why are you feeling sorry?” grin Pat “It wasn’t your fault Thames is a brute, lighten up.”
For the past few years of Meghan’s stay here, Pat had grown on her. She felt closer to her, and when she sees her face, her temper, good or bad, balanced.
Mrs. Manny lead the normal orientation, including the topic about the party that is going to be held tonight. The whole pavilion flooded with voices, giving opinion, throwing insults and murmurs about what to wear so the parents would be delighted. Pat stayed silent; she’s not good in giving opinions or suggestions, for she knew that it would be impossible for her to be adopted, who would want a freak like her? Everyone seemed to agree on that. Unlike any other child, Pat can control the weather, and make things move without touching them. People tend to avoid her, she was dangerous, others would say. So she preferred to be alone, with no one else but her…ugly self.
Thames raised a hand “Mrs. Manny, do you think it would be inappropriate for Patricia Dock to join us tonight?” she reasoned. “I mean, she might cause trouble.”
Mrs. Manny glared at Pat, she knew the dangers Pat would bring to the only night the orphanage is noticed. True, Pat cannot control her prowess well. Mrs. Manny recalled for the past years of how Pat made mistakes; the house was renovated twice because of an unexplainable hurricane that came pass them when Pat was angry; the snow storm that fell on them last Christmas when Pat came to an argument with a girl named Sam Wilkins; the rain storm that flooded the house when Pat was crying. Those experiences only proved that what Thames is saying was true.
Pat grimaced at Mrs. Manny glare as she slapped her head and she fell on the ground. Meghan tried to help her, but Thames caught her arm. A slight speck of blood poured down her lips, as she wipes it off, still looking at Mrs. Manny with a bearable scowl.
“Your right, she mustn’t be seen, it would be embarrassing enough…” sneered Mrs. Manny “…to be seen with a filthy scum, but holding a party with that old rag in, is plain stupidity.”
Morning had passed quickly as well as afternoon. Pat wasn’t allowed to have lunch just because she was glaring at Mrs. Manny, good thing Meghan had hidden a piece of chicken leg and a half loaf of bread and brought it secretly to Pat. Then, evening came. From her room, she could hear the murmuring guests, the faded music’s, and the girls talking and chattering about the joys they’re going to have tonight.
As Pat lay in her room, already wearing her brown pajamas, she dreamed again. Someone was running, no, sprinting. It was coming toward her, faster and faster, until they were face to face. She can’t see its face, for it was covered in a thick cloak. She wanted to scream, but no sound came out her mouth. The cloaked figure took off its hood. It was faceless. No eyes, no nose, nothing. Its pale complexion was joined in with its ghastly veins, and its hands, dreadful. She was about to run away when the monster opened its hidden bloody mouth with fangs but strangely no tongue. It approached to eat her.
She woke up with a start, breathing heavily as sweat lined up her forehead. She was clutching her damp pillow which was full of her sweat (or tears?) when a knock on the door startled her.
“Good Evening Patricia Do- I mean, Pat.” It was Meghan, her hair braided and fixed. She wore a black night gown which suits her perfectly. Meghan was smiling, but when she saw Pat’s face she became confused. “Patricia? What is it?”
Pat hadn’t noticed her teeth were making terrifying sounds as she clung into her damp pillow. “I had a dream again…” She murmured.
“Excuse me?” Meghan said.
Pat told her about her disturbing dream, as soon as she finished, Meghan’s face turned to confused to concern. She stood up and started to pace murmuring “No…it can’t be true…it’s too early…”
“What isn’t real? What’s too early?” asked Pat in a terrified tone.
Meghan looked at her expressionless and locked the windows and the door. She sat beside Pat and held her hand “Ms. Patricia Dock, please, stay here and never open the door to anyone.”
“Never, open the door- why? And what did I tell you about my name-”
“I’m very sorry that I have no time to explain,” Meghan said “But if you dear your life, you will follow my advice.” And she stormed out of the room, leaving Pat’s mouth ajar.
Chapter four
The scarred woods
The night was solemn. Pat kept pacing back and forth, thinking about what Meghan had said.
Why was she so tensed? Why was she in such a hurry? And if Pat valued her life, she should trust Meghan’s advice?
She fell back on her bunk bed and looked out the window. It was snowing, they fell down the ground harmoniously, so peaceful, Pat enjoyed watching them. She placed her hand on the windowpane and pressed her face on the cool glass.
The only view she could decipher was of a thick black forest. The tall trees were like tall people, for their shadows under the moonlight gave them figures. But something caught her eye. One of the shadows moved. Normally, the girl’s or any other townsmen were afraid to go near the forest after the daylight breaks, but Pat felt that someone was in there, hiding. Calling her name over and over, that sounded like an icy whisper “Patricia Dock, we await you…”
It was like she was hypnotized, she didn’t feel her feet get up on her bed, nor her hands open the locked window. Her body seemed to move on itself as it went down the nearest branch and climbed downward the snowy ground. For all she knew, she was wondering in the middle of the forest.
Then a sudden gush of pain washed through her body, as if her limbs had become numb. She kneeled on the snowy mounds of dirt, falling, her face on the ground, as she felt a rather strange presence.
She tried to sit back and run away as possible, but all she could do was lay down, her face engraved on the earth while she hears the chattering of people at the orphanage.
“The bloody-” she struggled, trying to move her arms but it was asleep. She felt the solemn presence advancing. It was all new to her. Fear flushed through her face, it was like in her dream, and was coming true.
No~ it can’t be possible; it was only a dream, nothing else. But it was like trying to explain why she had the ability to change weather, or making coffee without touching the utensils. But this is just a dream, a dream for crying out loud! How could a dream come to reality? Her other dreams didn’t become real when she dreamt it, but why this one? And why the most scary one-?
When she argued inside her mind, the sky became bloodred and gruesome, the trees’ shadows seem to hide away from the red moonlight and the birds perching on the trees flew as far as they can get. The fog was drowning in the trees as it surrounds Pat, forming a large circle with her in it.
She locked her blue eyes on the trees that swayed, or was it all in her head? Just when she gazed around the woods, waiting for someone to get her out, a sudden shook went to rippling the trees. There it walked slowly, everything it passes were in thick black smoke. Its hands were like razors, literally razors, as it swooped under the black night, feet covered by its thick black cloak, and faced covered by its hood.
It described what she saw earlier in her dream, but it felt much worse. The hairs at the back of her spine tingled and stood up. Her teeth clattering while her whole body laid utterly defenseless. She was not afraid of dying, for she felt Death, itself, in front of her.
“Patricia Dock…” it said icily “I have prepared dearly for this night…the night where the vanquisher vanquished the destined…and my name, will be put in the Stone of Prophecies, in the Cavern of Essence. ‘The Cefi that killed the Prophesized.’”
Patricia never bothered to listen to the creature. She pushed her head hard against the cold ground and used them as arms to stand from her numb body. Little by little she felt her body slowly coming to sensation. And as soon as she had her body back she made a run for it.
She had ran like she never ran before. She hit the trees that came pass her, causing bruises and cuts gash along her cheek and arms. Her feet bled for running barefooted on broken twigs and sharp rocks. She panted earnestly, not thinking of rest, and she wished she had never come down the forest. She could be resting on her hard bed and sleeping away all the madness this night was giving her, but part of her never knew if she can come home or to find a family.
As she ran, she saw familiar faces, and some unfamiliar. She saw Mrs. Manny’s huge face, like a human swine kissing her forehead, and she knew at once this happened when she first came to the orphanage, when Mrs. Manny told her that she was found freezing cold in the forest. She was younger then, but how horrible she’d turned out now.
Then the face of Meghan Lee, smiling at her widely. The first time they’ve met. It was raining then, Pat was nine, and was crying. Sam Wilkins, the old bully who’d got adopted ages ago, teased her of a freak, when Pat felt a hand on her shoulder. There, standing in front of her, is the short haired new girl named Meghan. They have been friends ever since.
Rushing across her was the face of Janet Khione; she was beaming, her hair still short and her glasses unfound. Her lilac eyes glittered under the chandelier as she went inside the house. Bags packed wearing a white polo shirt and a black skirt. This was the first time they recruited her in the orphanage to be the chef, and she was happy about it.
Pat ran as she could and hit a thick branch that was in front of her way. She fell hard on the ground. When many more faces came to her.
They were unfamiliar, and strange. She wondered how her brain had processed and made up all these faces.
A middle aged man, about thirty, Pat supposed, with curly scarlet hair, like hers, and emerald eyes. He had an ivory skin which was remarkably similar to hers, and a huge grin. He was face to face with her, saying words she can’t understand clearly, and kissing her forehead. Pat understood undoubtedly. He was her father.
“Stand up, Patty, be strong like your old man!” he said. He was encouraging her, making her stand up on her own feet, as if telling her not to give up.
“For crying out loud, honey, let me handle this…” A blonde woman set aside her father, Pat doesn’t want to take her eyes off him but, the middle-aged woman, and probably the same age as his, locked eyes on her. She was pale with a fair face. Her blue eyes that resembled Pat unmistakably, held multiple joy as she looks at Pat.
“Pat, get up. Get up, love. Get up.” She said as the image faded. Pat wanted to yell ‘No’, until-
“Get up, Ms. Patricia Dock get up.” A voice said.
“Meghan?”
She was face to face with her, leaning toward so her body could still be standing. Her concerned coffee brown eyes turned expressionless the last time they talked. She still wore her black night gown and her black hair still tied into a tress. She helped Pat up, holding her hand even though she had already stood.
The creature was nowhere to be seen.
“You- how did you get here?” Pat protested. “The-” she searched around the woods. “What’s going on?”
“You should head back home now,” Meghan said, not turning her back off the forest, as if expecting something. “Quickly.”
“Look, I’m not going to that bloody house, and I’m not going to obey your bloody advices, until you tell me what the bloody’s going on!” Pat insisted.
Meghan sighed. “Never to worry, Patricia Dock, all your questions would be answered soon.”
“The bloody-”
Just when she backed off, the ghost like creature walked past the trees, faster than what Pat experienced before, and seemed to be playing with them.
“I’m sorry, but you must leave this to me.” Meghan said.
“Leave this to me?” Pat repeated. “You’re a bloody twelve year old!” She felt the tension in her voice, she never felt so afraid in her life. She thought Mrs. Manny was a nightmare, but, there seemed to be something much worse.
The trees shook, as if a giant monster had rippled in one of them. The creature leaped aloft their heads, except not wearing its cloak, it was more terrifying. Its face was wearing a strange mask with a human face. Its body was muscular with purple and yellow veins running down its chest, but its hands were as long as three bamboo sticks put together. At the end of its arms are nails as sharp as razors.
Meghan stayed calm, though Pat gasped in horror. She tried to be brave for the sake of her friend. As if grabbing a rock would help, but she would never take any chances. She was about to throw when she felt a hand on her shoulder, there she saw Meghan’s smiling face, and recalled the first time they met, and this might be the last.
“Stay calm, Ms. Patricia Dock, I’ll protect you, it’s my mission.”
Pat could never speak; she could only widen her eyes in astonishment as Meghan fumed smoke between her legs. She stretched her arms and balled her fingers into fists, as if holding something heavy. The smoke surrounded her hand, and slid in the space between her fingers. There she held a three foot black boomerang, with black symbols embedded down the sides, and in the middle formed a black circle for her hands to slide in.
Meghan launched the monster with all her might, and threw her boomerang aloft missing the monster completely. The creature laughed in surprise that her weapon never reached its head. It was still laughing when Meghan boomerang hit one of its arms and completely tore it apart. Instead of blood, the torn up arm became to dust in a mere second. The monster screamed in pain.
Meghan caught her weapon simply, and grimaced “This weapon is named Gridelin; it can tear off anything, anything she could lay her blade on. I can also command where she would destroy.”
The monster only laughed much fiercer, holding its torn arm that grew back. “Well explained Reaper, but it would take many weapons to kill me.” It launched Meghan holding it’s razor hands aloft to tear her apart , but she dodged out of the way. No, it wasn’t her the monster was after, seemingly, it still held its razor nails, and charged Pat with all its strength.
Meghan moved quickly, and went between the two, holding Gridelin in front of them. Its nails only inches away from her face.
“Run, Pat.” Meghan whispered. She doesn’t know if she could hold her boomerang any longer for Pat to escape.
Pat hesitated “But—”
“SCAMPER! DO YOU WAN’T TO DIE?!” Meghan yelled in fury Pat never thought she had. As soon as she said that, Pat ran for her life, going deeper in the mysterious forest, not knowing what to do.
Chapter five
An hour of darkness
As soon as Pat had escaped, and could no longer be seen, Meghan released her weapon. The monster went after Pat, smelling her fear when the boomerang went in front of it and cut of its right arm, which grew back.
“Who said you could come, too.” Meghan scolded. Jumping in front of the monster’s head and ripped off its left shoulder. Meghan’s feet touched the ground and slid below the monster’s knees and slashed off its two legs, just before it could grow its left arm.
The monster only sneered “Fool, I will not die, I would never die!”
“All beings have its endings.” Meghan caught her weapon and tossed it below its knees and but not cutting it completely. It simply injured the beast.
She leaped over the trees and hopped over the monster, grabbing her weapon as soon as she landed, and hovered over the trees, opposite where Pat escaped.
She bounded with incredulous speed and agility. Looking back, the monster followed, its fangs baring and claws at the ready. Meghan never paid to waste any time, she jerked at one of the tree trunks and launched the creature with her boomerang atop.
It was amazing how the monster dodged it in the air; he plummeted over the blade and danced to the other side of the branches. Meghan landed on the ground, in an opposite direction. She panted slightly, rubbed her face full of the monster’s debris and faced the moonlight, as if getting power from it. She closed her eyes.
“Ye’ Light, to whose power shalt giveth thy eternal life,” she recited. “Coursing through the veins; yet guide thou needeth thy strength and giveth thou thy radiance to me.”
The monster was only inches away from her, yet she still closed her eyes. Meghan formed her two hands in front of her and braced herself from doing this.
“Secret Art, Manner of the Demon,” She said. “Ablicant!”
A luminous light formed from her fingers and went straight toward the trees, in which the monster was hiding.
A light as radiant as the moonlight swept through the entire forest, as great as the sunlight. It vaporized the things it got hold on, it was beautiful, but at the same time deadly. Her hand felt sore, but she held her power evenly, waiting for a sign that the monster was defeated.
Meghan had worn out, and decided to take off her hand from digging deeper into the forest. It was exhausting, maybe took a lot of energy, but it was worth it. The monster might be gone by now, and she could tell Pat everything.
The trees that faced her made a path of rubble and dirt; black debris joined in with the snow fall, and fell at the ground of black and white. Half of the trees were damaged greatly, her technique might be off guard but it made her enemy disappear.
She stood up from her rest and waited for the monster to attack her, but fortunately, none made a sound. The forest was silent again, nothing but the sound of her panting and breathing, as well as the hooting of the owls.
What happened to the monster? Did it vaporize just as well as the trees? She doesn’t want to answer those questions. All she wanted was to get back and rest, for it was a long night. By the time she got walking, she felt worse.
Her enemy’s Soul Presence was gone but a new wave of something horrible came. Huge wave of a new enemy is approaching, with a hunger for blood. Meghan’s eyes were as huge as owls under the light. An enormous bluish arm dug out through the snow and rubble, its claws the same as the one she fought, but much bigger. The rest of its body tunneled out, revealing its…disgusting appearance.
Its whole face was covered with hair the only thing visible is its left black eye. Its curls went straight to its throat downward its belly that served as loincloths. Its shoulders were evident under the thick moonlight, its legs covered with roots, it was sickening. And standing at its big ghastly toes, was Meghan’s old friend, grinning. It seemed its right arm was missing; who she thought would grow back, but did not.
As much of Meghan’s astonishment, she’s very tired to even walk, she panicked. “Wha--What is th--that? And w—why are y—you still a—alive?”
“I told you one weapon cannot confine me,” it laughed “This is my pet,” It gestured at the giant “Her name is Hilda.”
“Hi—Hilda?” she shivered, eyed wide open, trembling. “You—you are a—a—”
“You haven’t seen anything like me, eh? They’re so low sending a rookie like you down to protect the Prophesized,” the creature said “Such ignorant fools.”
Meghan froze in fear; the dark eyes of Hilda frightened her more, like she was looking into a bottomless pit. Her hand quivered, she searched for her boomerang, which was fifty feet away, toward the beast. If only she could reach it, she would cut Hilda’s head off. But her legs won’t run, for Hilda’s eyes were locked on her stiffly. Her whole body stiffened, she was numb, though her lips can move. Yes, she can common her weapon, say its name and in one moment, it would be in her hand.
But the giant’s head moved; looking left, looking right, looking down, and looking up. It stopped. And launched Meghan with such speed the whole forest shook. “Gridelin—” Meghan managed, and the boomerang shifted and slid between her fingers just when the beast punched her lower ribcage with its massive fists.
Meghan smacked the nearest tree trunk about fifty yards away, hitting her head so hard she almost fell unconscious if it weren’t for the giant’s repulsive stench. She groaned in pain, coughed and stumbled, but it didn’t stop the giant from attacking her. Its fists punched another attack, though she leaped out of the way; completely dodging the attempted assault.
She tumbled down, rolled a little, and held her stomach which was gravely injured. Her night gown was covered in debris and her black hair covered half of her face, sweat slid down her forehead and her panting never slowed.
The giant and her master looked at her, the creature full with delight as it ordered its minion to destroy her once and for all. When Meghan hurled her boomerang toward the monster’s head but simply missed it, tearing its shoulder apart. Luckily, the brute wasn’t able to grow body parts like her master. It wailed in a piercing voice that echoed the whole forest, Meghan hoped Pat hadn’t heard it. It was furious, very heated, crying out in pain. Under its hairy features, its large mouth had finally shown: no fangs, but gross greenish teeth. Somehow, it was very dense. It was finding its arm, as though it was still attached to its body. When it could not find its arm, it screeched even more vociferously.
Meghan had wanted to turn its back and run, but the only escapable path closest to her was the orphanage. She slowly backed down, silently going over to the thick trees and escape the beast’s fuming scream.
The giant knew only one thing: Meghan was responsible for its injuries.
It ran toward her with a fierce look, mouth open, tongue dangling, and still wailing. Meghan reached for her boomerang but the beast had caught her between its fingers. “Finish her Hilda!” its master growled.
Meghan held her boomerang as the beast gripped her tightly around the waist; she struggled, but can’t break loose. She groaned in pain as the monster’s grip grew tighter and tighter, at the point when she had dropped her weapon on the ground.
When she did, the giant had caught sight of the black metal curve that had slid down the snowy earth. It released Meghan who coughed and panted at the foot of its toe. The giant grabbed the curved blade down the ground, and examined it with a curious look.
“Hilda! Finish her!” its master bellowed, but the giant neither responded nor turned its head. “Hilda! HILDA!”
It made no sense, the giant brute still made no sign that it understood or heard. Its one arm held the boomerang, as though it had never seen anything like it before.
“Hilda! HILDA!” its master still snarled, baring its fanged teeth. “Are you ignoring me you great brute?”
Hilda turned its head, but turned it back to inspect the boomerang yet again.
“HILDA!” its master said once more, as blood boiled under its skin, its masked face turning red, as it pointed a hand behind Hilda’s back. A crimson beam lined toward the giant’s rear, which punched a deep hole right into its heart. Hilda screamed.
“Obey me you swine!” Hilda’s master kept beaming a hole into its stomach, and right into its right elbow. The boomerang, which was still in the hands of the giant, had crumbled under its strength. Meghan yelled— “NO! GRIDELIN!” — at the sight of this.
Hilda screeched in pain and agony, as its master kept torturing it by punching several holes in its body. Hilda could no longer bear it; with one hand it pounded its master on the ground, laying facedown, half squashed.
Hilda was angry. It crushed its master over and over until it was buried deep into the snowy earth.
Meghan, who lay there breathed and sobbed. Gridelin— her weapon was now a pile of rubble mixed in the debris and snow. She felt weak, and drowsy. With Gridelin gone, how was she supposed to survive, how was she suppose to live? Tears overflowed her face while she looked at the clear sky. She still heard the sound of pounding and wails of Hilda. But she could feel life leaving her, her breathing slowing and her eyes slowly closing.
As she lay down there to die, she felt Hilda’s big footsteps surrounding her. It had probably killed its master. It won’t live that long, without its master, it would die eventually, and without Gridelin, she would leave life forever. And with that, she thought it cannot come after Pat anymore, and with this grave news, someone would come over and fetch Pat. All will be well, and Pat would finally know where she come from, Pat would finally know the truth.
And with her relief, Meghan closed her eyes; she cannot hear anything while she waited for death to take over, when a sudden tug of stone bumped into Hilda’s head as if someone dare to fight the twenty foot giant.
Meghan, who was ready to die, had a sudden gush of astonishment to see the familiar scarlet haired girl with the same deep blue eyes that she new since three years. But now she held two stones in her ivory hand, and with a stern look Meghan had been longing to see ever since that girl protected her from different kinds of bullies. Now she was here, and Meghan can’t help to smile from seeing her. Instead, she frowned.
“Idiot! Why did you come back?” Meghan yelled.
And then, Pat launched herself between her and the beast.
The only thing you really need to do is put a line in-between each paragraph so it'll be easier to read. I really liked it, it had lots of action and your descriptions were beautiful. I would also suggest making each chapter a separate post if you are planning to make it a novel. It will be less to read at once and more people will be motivated to read it. 
I hope you write more.
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