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The Art Murderers Ch 2 (Edit 4)



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Sat Aug 20, 2011 3:14 am
romance otaku says...



New to The Art Murderers? Please start at chapter 1 by clicking here!

<-- To chapter 1

Chapter 2

Dexter awoke the next morning his usual groggy self. After mindlessly preparing himself for school he walked down the stairs. He stopped and stared at the blank TV screen, taking a bite on the cereal bar he had just retrieved.

Every day for as long as Dexter could remember his father was always downstairs before him, sitting in his chair, watching the news. Dexter curiously peered over the chair that sat directly in front of the TV.

It was empty.

A feeling of dread came over Dexter. It was as if lightning had struck him, recharging his body and leaving perspiration on the back of his nick. He walked back upstairs and into his parents' room to find his mother alone in her bed. Dexter tapped her on the shoulder, calling out to her, until she woke up.

“Mom, where's Dad?” He whispered.

His mother, tired and confused, spoke a good deal louder. “What do you mean? Isn't he downstairs?”

“No.”

“Is his car in the driveway?”

“I don't know...”

“Check!” She sat up in bed, rubbing her eyes.

Dexter quickly did so, then returned to his parent. “It's still there, but his shoes are gone.”

Dexter's mother glanced at the clock, her heart rate increasing by the second. “You need to get to the bus stop, now. I'll find out what happened to him.”

Dexter had never seen his mother so worked up. He wanted to argue with her to let him stay, but he instead decided to avoid making his mother any more emotional. “Okay Mom. Text me if anything happens, 'kay?”

“Okay sweetie.” She breathed, then said, more to herself than herself than her son, “It's probably nothing... maybe work needed him...”

School was nothing less than hell for Dexter. The possibilities of his father's whereabouts only became more horrible through out the day. Every few minutes Dexter would find himself checking his phone hoping for some sort of comfort in the form of a message from his mother. It never came.

At lunch, Lucas could see that Dexter was troubled. However, every seven forty seven of conversation Lucas attempted to fly over to his friend was shot down by anti-air missiles of single word replies. Eventually he just gave up and ate in silence.

When the final bell rang Dexter hurriedly began packing his bag so that he could return home, hopeful that he'd find news of his father. He was too busy to notice the worried glance of Darcie, just like he had been too troubled to notice her looking over her shoulder in class, and too preoccupied with what he had going through his mind to notice her watching in the halls.

“Are you okay?”

Dexter was startled by the girl's voice, but only for a second. At that point in time, Dester's psyche wasn't capable of coming up with a lie. “No, I'm not...”

“Need to talk about anything?” Darcie's voice was layered with concern.

“No... At least, not right now.” Dexter was too much in a hurry to be nervous to talk to the girl he liked. “I need to get home as soon as possible.”

Darcie frowned, something so unusual that Dexter flinched. “Oh... you seem like you could use a good song...” She dipped her hand into her bag and pulled out a card. “Here. If you don't feel any better I'd like you to go with me. It always helps me cheer up, at least.” Darcie's face reddened, then she turned around, mumbling that she hoped Dexter feels better as she nearly ran out the door.

Dexter just stood there, attempting to assess the situation. After a minute, he sighed, regaining his composure and reminding himself that he needed to get home. He adjusted the strap over his shoulder to his liking, then headed off.

Half way home Dexter realized that the piece of paper he was given was still in his hand. He read it as he walked.

“The best things in life are a Little Dark.

Six to six, Friday April sixteenth at Neon Bass

Admit One”

It wasn't just a piece of paper, it was a ticket. For what exactly, Dexter didn't understand, but it didn't matter; it was given to him by a – no – the girl he liked. And she said that she wanted him to go with her.

He had been asked out on a date.

The shock didn't wear off of Dexter until he looked up to find his drive way in the distance, his father's car still sitting in it. With a new found sense of urgency, Dexter carefully slipped the ticket into his pocket and half-ran into his house, desperate to know about his father's whereabouts.

Dexter was greeted by his mother, who was sitting on the couch in the living room, the wireless phone in her hand. Her blue irises contrasted with her red whites. Her blonde hair was ruffled as if each piece has forgotten its once assigned spot. Her breathing was audible and tense.

When Dexter saw all of this his heart skipped a beat. "Where is Dad?"

His mother couldn't look him in the eye. "I - I don't know..." Her voice faltered.

"Did you-" Dexter started.

His mother suddenly threw her hands up in excitement. "I called the station, I asked around the neighborhood, I checked his favorite stores and restaurants, called all our relatives, all his friends. I would check the credit cards, but his wallet is still on his nightstand! What else do I do, Dex? Where else do I look? Who else do I call?"

Dexter was trying so hard not to cry. He had never seen his mother like this before. Never in his life. His mother needed him to be strong. "Did you report it yet?"

His mother appeared shocked at the thought. "But it's probably nothing. Everything's going to be okay. He'll probably be home in a couple of hours. Right, Dexter? Right?" Her eyes pleaded like that of a child begging for a new toy.

Dexter walked forward, as if to reach out to comfort her. Mom... What am I supposed to say? Lying is something I don't want to do to you. But neither is bringing you more grief.

The teen took the phone from his mother's grasp, then dialed those three dreaded numbers.

-----

When Dexter awoke the next morning the cold patch on his pillow reminded him of his father's disappearance. He slowly prepared himself for classes at a sluggish pace. The living room was perfectly quiet; too quiet for Dexter, who was used to hearing the sound of his father watching TV to begin his day.

Dexter glanced at his father's favorite chair as he took a cereal bar from the cabinet. He removed the wrapper then threw it into the waste paper basket. With a sigh Dexter closed the door behind himself and trudged to school, not wanting to deal with the bus on top of his other issues.

-----

"Dude, are you okay? You weren't online at all yesterday."

Dexter pulled his head out of his locker and turned around to find Lucas standing behind him. He shook his head, then dived back in. "No... I'm not..."

"Something happen?" Lucas asked, only mildly concerned.

Dexter used the two second it took him to take his algebra book out from underneath a stack of supplies to prepare himself for what he was about to say. Locking eyes with Lucas, Dexter whispered, "Luke... my dad's gone..."

Lucas's brow furrowed. He wasn't prepared for something of that nature; he was expecting Dexter to announce a lack of finished homework, not that. Despite that, Lucas attempted to sound as concerned as possible. "Gone? Where?"

Dexter looked at his shoes, oblivious to Lucas' social turmoil. "That's the problem..."

Lucas couldn't help being skeptical. "You have no clue where he went?"

"None..." The doubt in Lucas's voice did not penetrate Dexter's lamenting.

The bell rang. Hoards of students materialized into the halls, moving to their respective homerooms.

In a state of anomie, Lucas did the only thing he could think of: escape."Well, I'm going to get to class." And, with that, Lucas disappeared into the crowd.

Classe were twice, maybe thrice, as bad as the day before for Dexter. Anticipation built up in Dexter like a balloon, threatening to burst. Dexter would begin a task, such as answering questions on a handout, but he would soon be consumed by worrisome concerns for his father. He even turned in a test one-third finished. His teacher gave him a puzzled look, but didn't comment.

Lunch was silent, granted passive mentionings of the images for Lucas's site and complaints about schoolwork. Lucas simply didn't know how to speak to his friend, if he should at all. Oblivious, Dexter attempted to focus on the meatball sub in his hands instead of his home life.

Darcie watched these "conversations" from a distance, unable to find the courage to speak to the boy she had asked out the other day.

Dexter and Darcie could barely meet eyes when walking into the classroom final period. Initially the two shied away from each other, Dexter wordlessly sitting down behind the girl whom has asked him out the day before. Darcie sat there, nervously rubbing her fingers up and down on the desk in tiny, quick jolts. She began to turn around, opening her mouth, when the bell inconveniently rung. Her neck snapped back into place, and her eyes fell front and center.

Darcie spent the whole class re-mustering her courage. On the other hand, Dexter was trying to figure out how the rest of his day was going to work out. He knew he wanted to go home and check on his mother, but he wasn't sure what Darcie had in mind. He wanted to give Darcie as much of his time as possible that day, but his father...

However, he had told his mother that morning that he may or may not be home late that night, and to call him if she needed him. When she asked why and he told her she smiled, for the first time since her husband's disappearance, and told him to "have fun, but don't get carried away".

When class ended Darcie whirled around in her seat to face Dexter, who was putting his supplies away. "So did you decide to come?" She asked, unable to contain her excitement.

Dexter nodded, unsure of how his mannerisms should be. "Yeah." He couldn't quite remove the depression from his voice, leaving a tail at the end of his words.

Darcie smiled wider than her default. "I'm glad. You look like you could really use it..." Darcie's good mood faltered for a second, then was resurrected. "I was wondering if you would mind coming with me early. I usually help set up."

Dexter stood, zipping up his bag. It only took him a second to choose an answer, and that second had been for exaggeration. "Nah, I don't mind. How early?"

Darcie fixed her short skirt as she rose. "Actually, I was thinking that we could maybe walk there together right now. It's about an hour walk from here."

Dexter shrugged. "Why not?" He was having trouble hiding his emotions from the past few days. He was a little nervous, but would've been more so if he wasn't under such stress, at least, that's what Dexter figured. However, he still wished he could breath normally.

Darcie slung her pack over he shoulder, adjusting it to her liking. They faced each other, their shoulder straps a mirror image of the other's. Darcie looked up to meet Dexter's eyes, her head tilting slightly to the left. Those few seconds felt as if hours of conversation had passed between the two teenagers. Soon, Darcie's smile had infected Dexter as well.

Darcie didn't break eye contact when she asked, “Ready?”

Dexter grinned like an idiot. “Yep”

And, with that, Darcie made a one-eighty degree tirn and pointed dramatically to the door. She resisted the urge to turn back around and let Dexter's hazel eyes infatuate her as she announced, “Then let's go!” And led the way out the door, a skip in her step.

Dexter followed close behind. This will be interesting, he thought.

-----

A myriad of blocks down the street Dexter broke the not-so-awkward silence. "Where are we going exactly?"

Darcie chuckled as if the question was silly. "To the club, of course."

Dexter turned his head questioningly to her. “A club?” For a second he had doubts about this journey. From what he had heard, clubs did not have a good connotation. The last thing he needed was to be shot, or surrounded by people tripping on acid.

Not exactly sure what he meant by his question, she decided to try to give him the gist. "Well, it's downtown. It looks small from the outside, but it's-" Darcie ran in front of Dexter and faced him, opening her arms wide, "Really big! There's laser lights everywhere and and the people are nice. The music is amazing, too."

Dexter was taken aback for a second, absorbing the enthusiastic information."So... we are going to a rave?"

Darcie returned to her spot beside Dexter, beginning to walk again. "Yeah, pretty much."

Dexter's voice quivered a little; he didn't think she was that kind of girl. "Um... do you do ecstasy and that kind of stuff, then?"

To Dexter's surprise, Darcie took the question calmly. "Nope. I've never tried, either. I don't really want to, anyway."

Dexter sighed in relief, but he still had another question. "Then why do you go?"

Darcie giggled. "For the music! You would have to go once to understand, that's why I wanted to bring you."

At that exact moment the two stepped onto a bridge. Dexter stood there in awe for nearly a minute, taking in the scenery. It was his first time going downtown on foot, and it felt so much different than when cooped up in a car. The wind picked up the water droplets from the river below, which Dexter noticed for the first time was bustling with creativity. Around a single ferry hundreds of feet below them were jet skis, canoes, and other watercrafts microscopic in comparison to the boat that carried cars and people up the river. Lining the edges of the river were active docs, unloading and loading boats and trucks.

“It's amazing...” The breeze played with his hair like a child fiddling with a toy.

Darcie nodded in agreement, eyeing the clouds playing tag in the distance. “It is.”

It was then that the ferry let off an earth-shattering bellow, deafening everyone for miles around. Our two antagonists took the brunt of the blast with an exchanged smile. They nodded to each other, almost in synch, and began their trek over the pedestrian section of the bridge.

It wasn't too long before the pathway ended, opening up into the downtown area.

Downtown was not a homogeneous place. The old clashed with the new, the tall clashed with short, and the well-off businesses clashed with the vacancies. Cars crowded the streets, stopping at redlights and letting flocks of people pass. The traffic pattern was like a well oiled machine, where every cog knew its place and spun accordingly.

As Dexter and Darcie passed through one of the four intersections on their journey, Dexter eyed a police car stopped on the side of the road. He eyed the driver, just as he had done since he could remember, in an attempt to see if it was his father on patrol. When he realized that it wasn't his father he was analyzing, Dexter's line of sight went to his feet.

Darcie didn't realize the state Dexter was in until she turned to announce that they were almost to the club. Assuming her date trudged due to exhaustion, she attempted to motivate him. “Come on,” she said, her voice saturated in excitement, “we're so close!”

Dexter only glanced ahead, afraid that if he moved his head's angle his watery eyes would shed their tears. “O-okay.”

Seeing that Dexter was not perking back up, Darcie decided it was time for drastic measures. She smiled back at her date and took his hand. “Let's go,” she chuckled.

Her hand touching his was like glass shattering in his mind, breaking through he pane of sorrow that had enveloped him. He found himself chasing behind her as she broke out into a jog, then a run. Her laugh was more infectious than the swine flu.

Darcie led Dexter into an alley next to a large brick building with tinted windows. Dexter would have thought the apartment building was completely abandoned if not for the sign in front of the faded wooden door that said:

"Neon Bass

Exit Only

Enter Though Back"

The long alley made a sharp turn to the right, than another, until they came to the wide-open black door of the club. They entered.

After going through a short hallway, they came to the main room. It was dimly lit and only a few other people were present, all doing various chores.

The main room was an amazing sight to see for the first time. Just as Darcie had said, the room looked much bigger from the inside than it did from the outside. The building, Dexter assumed, was originally an apartment complex. He thought this due to the nature of the main room, with the three floors above cleared out, with wide, tall steel polls keeping the fifth floor at bay. The parts that remained of floors two through four were only balconies with some tables and chairs in them, then about five doors with small numbers on them per floor.

Adjacent from the side with the balconies was a rectangular platform that jutted out from the wall. Upon it sad a DJ booth and humongous speakers, as well as wires and cords sprawled on and around it. Laser lights were attached to the booth, the speakers, the walls, and even the ceilings, which had speakers as well.

A bar lined almost the entire right side of the room, with stools evenly dispersed. Additionally, here were black stools and small two-person tables in various spots around the room, and a booth with a larger table cozy in every corner.

In the center of the room, starting from directly in front of the DJ booth, was a giant square of white tile that contrasted with the black flooring of the rest of the room. Dexter guessed that it was the dance floor.

As Dexter stared in awe at everything around him, Darcie said, "If you think it's amazing now, wait until you see it tonight.

To Dexter's own surprise, he was actually starting to look forward to the opening of the club.

"Yo, Dark, could you fix up the wires in the booth? The last DJ messed them all up," yelled a man from across the way who was reorganizing chairs.

"Yeah, no problem, Simon," Darcie shouted back, then said to Dexter, "He's the owner of this club. Come on, the booth is pretty cool."

As Darcie unplugged and plugged in confusing cord after cord, Dexter checked out the mixing deck with its many knobs and sliders. "You must come here often for them to let you touch the equipment."

Darcie laughed. "I come here almost every other night for a few lemonades and to listen to whoever is playing. You get to know people."

Dexter nodded as he created another question. "What kind of music is played here?"

"Well, this club likes to switch up the specific styles, but it's all hard dance." Darcie was now adjusting a light.

"Hard dance?" Dexter's limited knowledge of clubs and parties was failing him.

Darcie stopped what she was doing and looked up in thought. "Hmm... It's hard to describe. Do you know what techno is?"

"Yeah." Dexter nodded.

"Imagine that but a little less complex, a few lyrics, and a boom boom boom," she instructed.

Dexter attempted to do so. In his head it sounded just okay, but with the lights and the dance floor he thought it would fit perfectly. "Seems cool."

Darcie smiled wide. "It is."

Dexter explored the record decks, sound effect panels, and CD decks until Darcie completed her work. It actually was interesting, as Dexter had only seen similar things on TV. He wondered how everything worked, but was too afraid to ask in fear of sounding dumb.

But it appeared that Darcie was a mind reader. "Wanna see what this stuff does?"

"Okay." Dexter replied, watching as Darcie flipped a switch that turned on two computer screens. A light hum emitted from the equipment.

Darcie went through several knobs, sliders, and buttons to give examples of how each one effected the music that played. She even showed him a little scratching on the vinyl. Less impressed by the music, more so by the fact that Darcie seemed to know what she was doing, Dexter watched and listened intently as Darcie displayed her DJing prowess.

By the time she finished it was nearly five thirty. The two sat at the bar, the only people there besides the bartender, who was dressed up in a tuxedo and had is hair slicked back. Dexter was surprised when Darcie called him by name when requesting drinks. Dexter tried to pay attention as Darcie and the bartender exchanged theories on how the night was going to turn out, but found himself preoccupied with the condensation he found under his soda. They watched as the first DJ of the night stepped up to the decks. The lights suddenly switched off and the lasers came on, swinging about the room in various patterns.

People were slowly but surely beginning to fill the room, but it wouldn't be at its maximum until after midnight.

Darcie slid off her stool. “I have a room here. Wanna check it out? We can hang there until the better Djs come on; the openers are usually terrible.”

Dexter did the same. “Okay.”

After some fumbling with the ancient lock, Darcie opened the door. “This is where I spend most of my time.”

Darcie's fourth floor apartment was about the size of a suit hotel room. There was a kitchenette, a bedroom, a full bathroom, and a living room; just big enough for one or two people to live in.

Darcie sat down on the couch, lifting her feet up onto the coffee table, and turned on the TV, flipping though the channels.

In the back of his mind, Dexter was trying to figure out how Darcie could afford, well, anything. She had cable, and she also had a computer set up, so she had internet. Maybe her parents give her the money? Dexter kept his thoughts to himself, deciding that it would not only be rude, but that it did not matter.

Darcie turned to Dexter, who was still standing in the entrance way, dumbfounded. "Anything you wanna watch?"

Dexter shrugged, trying to act natural, and sat down beside Darcie. "Comedy?"

Darcie changed the TV to the comedy channel. She had to set the volume high in order to follow the jokes, but the old fashioned, quality construction of the wall blocked out the majority of the music.

Dexter laughed. The only things that existed were himself, the TV, the couch, and Darcie. Everything was fine in his world. But right after he realized what happened he immediately ceased laughing. He had, for just a few seconds, forgotten about his lost father. Guilt slowly drove him mad. He tried not to cry, but tears were shed nonetheless.

When Darcie finally switched her gaze from the television to Dexter she gasped. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing..." Dexter saw at the girl sitting beside him through watery eyes.

"It has to be something..." Darcie reached over to wipe the tears away with her thumb.

Dexter felt Darcie's soft skin caress his. His tears began to fall more often.

"You've been crying a lot the last few days, haven't you? Your eyes have been so red..." Darcie's voice was becoming more sweet and comforting to Dexter by the minute.

He just nodded, unable to break the frown on his face to speak.

Darcie slid over the couch, closer to Dexter. She wrapped her arms around him as he buried his face in her neck. “It's okay to cry.”

He could feel her warmth around him, surrounding and protecting him. He did not cry long; he did not need to because he had cried so much the days before. It was just a momentary lapse of the reality that had not quite settled in Dexter's mind. It frustrated him to the point of tears.

It was for an hour they stayed like that. An hour of smelling each other's scents, exchanging each other's body heat, of listening to the rhythm of each other's breaths. Long after Dexter stopped shedding tears he stayed in Darcie's arms.

A switch in music styles prompted Darcie to get up and stretch her arms in the air, a tiny moan escaping under her breath. "The music gets harder as the night goes on. It's finally hard enough to dance to. Want to?"

Dexter stretched himself longways on the couch, resting his head on the arm. "I can't dance." He chuckled at the thought.

Darcie grabbed Dexter's hand and pulled him up. "So? It's still fun. Besides, by now everyone out there are making fools of themselves anyhow."

"But-"

Darcie waited for no answer, man-handling Dexter out the door into the booming main room. The party was in full sync with the kick of the bass. The hoard of people on the dance floor all bounced to the beat, besides a few more talented dancers who displayed their skills in the middle of everyone else, close to the DJ, getting cheered on by their peers. People crowded the bar, asking the poor, lone bartender for drinks. Party goers also lounged at tables, just enjoying the atmosphere and relaxing. Nobody took notice of the two on their perch.

They stood on the balcony as they watched the crowd flow like the waves of the ocean.

"Come on,” coaxed Darcie, “it's just playing around. Look, your foot is already tapping."

Dexter hadn't even noticed his leg keeping the tempo. He knew he couldn't win, but there was one way for him to surrender while still keeping his dignity. "If I do, you owe me an iced tea. No, make that two."

"Deal!" Darcie squealed, seizing Dexter's arm and dragging him down the stairs, then plunged into the sea of people.

It wasn't easy for Dexter to make such a transition of environments, but the constant eye contact with Darcie helped get him right into the groove. At first it was some head nodding, but soon Dexter was jumping with the best of them.

As she watched, Darcie couldn't help but feel proud of Dexter. She had been watching him for a long time, and she knew he was mellow. And here he was, with her, at a huge dance party, and it appeared to her that Dexter was even enjoying himself.

Soon the music quieted and an announcer came on. "Is everyone havin' a good time tonight?"

The club attendees roared.

"I thought so. You all ready for our main event?"

The party people were even louder this time.

"Then I am happy to introduce to you the cream of the next generation's DJ crop, and our local DJ pride and joy, the queen of hard herself, Little Dark!"

Ravers everywhere went berserk, totally lost in either their drugs, alcohol, the moment, or a combination of the three.

Dexter watched as the mass of people opened like the sea before Moses in a path to the DJ booth. He felt something warm and slightly moist peck against his cheek.

"It's my turn. I'll meet you at my room when I'm done, 'kay? Please don't be too mad at me for not telling you. Hope you enjoy my music." Darcie said in Dexter's ear before she was swallowed by the sea. She climbed atop the stage and placed the headphones around her neck. "Are you all ready to jump?” She shouted into the microphone.

Everyone most obviously was.

"Then..." Darice pressed play on a record player, letting one square-waved explosion out before stopping it with her hand. "Jump!" And, with that, she let the tune and the rave free.

The party people obliged, including Dexter. Everything around him was pumping, pounding, or flashing to a four by four beat. That was all that existed in his world. He allowed himself to relax and enjoy life, instead of worrying and crying about things that were beyond his control.

Dexter didn't realize how tired he was until the final track of the set faded out. As he had promised, he trekked up the three flights of stairs and leaned on the railing, watching the club from his perch as he waited.

"So, how did you like the show?" Darcie's happy voice was accompanied by two clunks on the table, then her arms wrapping around Dexter's waist from behind.

"It was amazing." Dexter bent his head around to face his captor.

Their eyes met, and Darice felt compelled to kiss the boy in her grasp, on the lips this time. But after she could feel the sparks on her lips fading, wanting to be alit once more. "I'm glad you liked it." Another quick kiss.

"You were right about this place." Dexter said, partly to himself. He could feel the warmth on his lips disappearing.

Darcie unwrapped her arms, slipping one hand's fingers between Dexter's. She turned around and unlocked the door to her room, leading Dexter into her bedroom. "Sometimes you just need to get away. This is the best place to do that. Amazing things happen here... "

Dexter submitted, following and closing the door behind him. Darice sat down on the bed; so did he, with another kiss. He ran his free hand through Darcie's hair, knotting his fingers in the strands. "Yeah... Amazing things..." He tried to loosen his lips as they laid upon Darcie's.

Unable to control herself, Darcie placed her hands on Dexter's sides and pulled him on top of her, still passionately kissing.

That would be as far as they would go that night, but sparks flew and lips and tongues slid against each other for hours before Darcie walked Dexter home, disappearing into the night after a quick kiss.

Dexter's home was dark and empty when he entered it, but a note on the table assured him that nothing was amiss; his mother was asleep and dinner was in the microwave. Only food and his nightly routine stood between him and dreams of a cute little girl with black hair that loved to DJ.

To chapter 3 -->
Last edited by romance otaku on Tue Aug 23, 2011 4:07 am, edited 2 times in total.
~Did I help you? If so, please take a second to sign my website's guestbook at http://joeduncko.com/guestbook/. When it gets 100 signs, I plan to release my newest short story! Thanks!
  





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Mon Aug 22, 2011 12:55 pm
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IcyFlame says...



Whew this was a long chapter! I suppose that was to be expected, seeing as there aren't that many in total in this book, but you may want to consider posting it as part one and then a part two, simply for the purpose if this site and the amount of reviews/views you will attract.
I'm not going to nitpick here, because this is a very long piece and it will become tiresome to do so, let alone to read it! If you do need me to nitpick, feel free to send me a message or write on my wall - I'll be happy to help!
The main thing I wanted to talk to you about was your pacing. A fast pace can be useful for moving the plot along quickly and can just mean going from one event to the next quickly. For the most part, this is what you have done in this piece. It can make a good story but if you remain at this pace and keep going too fast then it's a lot harder for the reader to connect with anything that is happening.
You get a lot better nearer the end, but don't forget to introduce some slow spots too because this is where you show off to your reader the characters, settings and introduce hints of a subplot. You've got talent, but you need to showcase it!
Keep using that keyboard :)
Icy.
  





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Sun Aug 28, 2011 4:26 am
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Mickixoxo says...



So the dad either up and left, or died! .... My money's on died, buuuuut I wont know until I read about it XP .... anyway!

When Dexter awoke the next morning the cold patch on his pillow reminded him of his father's disappearance.


Uh... huh? What does that mean, exactly?

Classes were twice, maybe thrice, as bad as the day before for Dexter.


(you forgot the "s" on the end of "Classes")

Lunch was silent, granted passive mentionings of the images for Lucas's site and complaints about schoolwork.


Mmm... not exactly sure what you're trying to say, here. Is it supposed to be "Lunch was silent, it granted passive..." or is it "Lunch was silent, granting passive...." or is "granted" just the wrong word to use, there? Either way, a word is missing and/or wrongly used in that section.

Initially the two shied away from each other, Dexter wordlessly sitting down behind the girl whom had asked him out the day before.


Okay, even though I'm currently suspicious of Darcy being an Arterer that stabs peoples heads with crystals, I still love her XP I dunno why! She's just so bubbly and happy-go-lucky-ish and she seems so cute and nice! X3 Bahh I guess I'll just have to find out if she really is who I'm suspecting her to be, or if I'm just wrongly accusing a cute and innocent girl of murder XP

The long alley made a sharp turn to the right, then another, until they came to the wide-open black door of the club.


The main room was an amazing sight to see for the first time. Just as Darcie had said, the room looked much bigger from the inside than it did from the outside. The building, Dexter assumed, was originally an apartment complex. He thought this due to the nature of the main room, with the three floors above cleared out, with wide, tall steel poles keeping the fifth floor at bay. The parts that remained of floors two through four were only balconies with some tables and chairs in them, then about five doors with small numbers on them per floor.

Adjacent from the side with the balconies was a rectangular platform that jutted out from the wall. Upon it sad a DJ booth and humongous speakers, as well as wires and cords sprawled on and around it. Laser lights were attached to the booth, the speakers, the walls, and even the ceilings, which had speakers as well.


Okay, I'm not quite getting the picture here. I understand the speakers and the platform with the DJ on it, but I have no idea where you're going with the description of balconies and doors and poles and whatnot. The picture of floors two thru five is just a jumbled mess in my cranium.... I think you should either tone down the description, or make is simpler, for slow people like me to understand ;P

Additionally, there were black stools and small two-person tables in various spots around the room, and a booth with a larger table cozy in every corner.


Darcie's fourth floor apartment was about the size of a suite hotel room.


In the back of his mind, Dexter was trying to figure out how Darcie could afford, well, anything. She had cable, and she also had a computer set up, so she had internet. Maybe her parents give her the money? Dexter kept his thoughts to himself, deciding that it would not only be rude, but that it did not matter.


What? Does she loot the pockets of the people she kills? IS HIS DAD'S MONEY IN HER POCKET RIGHT AS THEY SPEAK?! Hmm... suspicious, suspicious e_e

You're really good at ending chapters, I'm a tad jealous, to tell you the truth XD
Keep up the good work!
If there's a 50/50 chance of getting something wrong go for it anyway because there is also a 50/50 chance of getting it right

I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity. ~Edgar Allen Poe
  








No man or woman who tries to pursue an ideal in his or her own way is without enemies.
— Daisy Bates