the story I'm writing so far

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kittycathead
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the story I'm writing so far

Postby kittycathead » Wed Sep 04, 2019 5:44 pm

I'm writing a story, maybe it will be a book or something, Idk. But here it is, let me know on your thoughts and feel free to provide constructive criticism!

Prologue
Spoiler:
Three wolves.
Land, sea, and sky.
Reuha, the wolf of the land. He has blazing red fur, with hints of rusty red and crimson. His leading qualities and short temper are a force to be reckoned with. However, Reuha is hard to deeply provoke. They say if he is angered, the earth blows its top. Volcanic eruptions and earthquakes would abound, and only the other two wolves could truly calm him down. He directs and guides them, and is also said to be very territorial.
Maeda, the wolf of the sea. Her fur is a shimmering cobalt, with traces of turquoise and aquamarine. She is known to be the levelheaded one. Cool and calm, like the seas, and yet hard to churn a change of heart. It is said that there is yet a day when Maeda is dissuaded by anyone other than the wolves that companion her. She is the analyst of the group, as she can take the most objective angle due to her rarely ever stirring emotions.
Aetha, the wolf of the sky. Her fur is a grassy green, with streaks of lime and camouflage green. She is supposedly the dreamy one, with her head in the clouds, always thinking of possibilities of a perfect world. It is said that she is the one who comes up with the ideas, while the other wolves figure out how to put them into action. She is generally calm, but more prone to emotion than Maeda.
All three wolves have shining, sparkling golden eyes.
Each wolf was to choose a human hero to bond eternally with, for the day that calamity strikes the earth. They searched all the corners of the land for a very long time, making sure that their choice was the right one.
Reuha chose first: a robust young lady who is fiery with passion, but rude to anyone and everyone that disagrees with her point of view. She is also quite stubborn, with a short temper to rival a bomb’s.
Aetha chose second: a sociable, friendly young woman whose head is constantly in the clouds, much like the wolf that ordained her. They say she’s the one who never instigates a fight, ever.
But, for reasons unknown, Maeda is still searching.
Once the young heroes were chosen, their hair was changed to match the color of their patron wolf’s fur. Their hair was also given a lighter streak on their right side of their head, about two centimeters wide. Their eyes were also changed; they now matched the wolves’ eyes, as they were a shimmering shade of golden amber.
After fifty years of waiting, the two heroes were suspended into a state of magical dormancy. Their bodies were transformed into gemstones corresponding to the colors of their patron wolves. Reuha and Aetha then searched the globe once more in order to find a resting place for the precious stones, and this time, Maeda came with them.
They settled in what is now Mountain Point, Kentucky.
The stones lie hidden from the rest of humanity, waiting for the arrival of the third hero’s choosing. The three wolves guard the forest around the sacred stones, making sure no human falls upon their location.
Yet civilization still thrived in that forest, and my hometown was built. At some point or another this legend was found, and now everyone believes it to be true.
Except for me, Carla Waters.
An eighteen year old girl is the only one who doesn’t believe this legend to be reality in a place like this.
Chapter 1
Spoiler:
Considering there’s no evidence, I can safely say my entire town is deluded.
There’s no photographs, no footprints, no fur tufts, no evidence whatsoever of the wolves’ existence. It could literally just be a story somebody made up.
But my skepticism is heavily frowned upon by the townspeople, who are solely convinced in this fairytale and want me to be as well. It’s over a matter as simple as this that I’m losing my friends.
My family doesn’t like me either; they clearly play favorites on my seven year old brother, Carter. Good thing I’m going to move out once I finish high school. Then I won’t have to deal with my annoying family anymore. Only a few more months.
As I’m trying to study for my social studies test on Monday, Carter bounds into my room. “Carla! Can you buy me a Hershey’s bar? Please?”
“Sorry, Carter, I’m trying to study,” I answer calmly.
“Please?” Carter gives me those puppy-dog eyes that he seems to have mastered. Unfortunately for him, I’m hopelessly immune to them.
Secretly annoyed, I tell him, “I already told you, I’m trying to study.”
“MOMMY!” Carter shouts. “Carla won’t buy me a Hershey’s bar!”
“I’m trying to study, and he’s bothering me!” I interject.
“Carla, go and get him the candy bar!” she responds.
“I’ll do it after I finish my notes!” I huff.
I look at Carter, making sure my expression looks perfectly neutral. “I’m gonna get you a Hershey’s bar after I finish my notes, okay? It’s not gonna be too much longer, maybe about fifteen minutes or so.”
Carter beams. “Okay!”
With a sibling as annoying as him, I’ve had to master the art of remaining calm so he doesn’t tattle on me or something. I’m lucky he’s a lot more compliant when I address him calmly. I’ve learned that lesson the hard way many times. And I might as well pick up a few things I need to get while I’m out at the store. At least it’s not going to be a complete waste.
After finishing my notecards, I grab my purse and put on my cute black boots.
I shout up the stairs, “Hey, Carter! If you want that Hershey’s bar, come on!”
“Comiiiiiing!”
He bounds down the stairs and grabs the toy truck he takes absolutely everywhere, slipping his Crocs on.
“Silly goose,” I say, giggling slightly, “don’t wear Crocs with socks!”
“Why can’t I wear my Crocs?”
“They look really silly on you like that!”
“Why do they look silly?”
“Just get your gym shoes on. If you do it, I’ll get you an extra trinket as long as it’s under five dollars!”
“Okay!” he chirps, bounding back up the stairs and switching from his green Crocs to his black tennis shoes.
“That’s better,” I say, before heading out to my silver Chevy Spark. I bought it a month ago, because I was saving up my money to buy a car in decent condition. I don’t regret my decision at all.
Carter heads in the back, because it’s too dangerous for a seven year old to sit in the passenger seat. I don’t know how he will fare if I get into an accident and the airbag launches itself straight into his face. Not that I’m planning on doing that, but still.
The two of us buckle in, and we head to the nearest convenience store. It doesn’t take more than a few minutes to get there, but they feel like forever. The scenery whizzing past us is a little hypnotic, making me glad that the drive is quite short.
Pulling into the parking spot closest to the door (without being reserved for the handicapped), Carter and I get out of the car and head into the store. I tell Carter to find a Hershey’s bar and a cheap trinket he wants, while I grab myself some yogurt, bread, cheese, salami, mayonnaise, and feminine products. (I have a mini fridge in my room for when I move out.) It’s a small store, but it has a lot of variety.
I browse the aisles for a little bit until I run into Carter. He’s holding his desired Hershey’s bar, as well as a small, flat piece of cardstock wrapped in clear plastic. Upon closer inspection, I find there are three wolf pins on the cardstock. One is a red wolf facing forward, the next is a green wolf facing the right, and the last is a blue wolf howling. All three pins are silhouettes, meaning they are each made up of a singular color. I check the price tag. $1.50.
I sigh. “Carter, what is it with you and these wolves?”
Carter looks at me. “Whaddaya mean? They’re so cool! I can’t believe how they protect and guard us! Mountain Point!”
I mutter, “I can’t believe it either, that’s why I don’t.”
Carter hears my response and huffs as I go to the checkout. I pay, and hand him his chocolate and pins. Any negative emotion in him disappears as his face lights up upon receiving the items I bought him. He’d better like those wolf pins he picked out. I mean, he did pick them out for himself. So he should like them.
As we drive home, Carter asks me, “Why don’t you believe in the wolves?”
“Carter, we’ve been over this a million times.” I sigh again. “There’s no evidence of their existence at all. Nobody’s found hide nor hair of them, and they can’t find the jewels either.”
Carter looks at me, outraged. “I don’t need evidence to believe!”
“That’s great,” I say, “because I do. But since there’s no evidence, I think I can safely say that the legends are probably just some storybook tale someone wrote a long time ago when they were thinking of ways to entertain their kids. So have fun with your wolf pins. I hope you enjoy them.”
I pull into the driveway, and we both exit the car. We head up to our respective rooms, and I can hear Carter crinkle the outer wrapper of his pins as he opens up the package. I also hear him opening his Hershey’s bar and squealing from the taste of it. Maybe I should’ve gotten myself a candy bar. Too late now.
I still don’t get what the hoot is about these wolves. They’re most obviously fake (I mean, come on, wolves aren’t naturally fiery red, grassy green, or watery blue), and the supposed powers they have don’t even exist. Nobody and nothing can have them. I’m sorry. And besides, the concept is so ridiculous that it sounds like it came straight out of a fairytale. Sure, it’s a cool concept, and the idea is nice, but there’s no evidence to support it and believing that kind of thing is immature. Which makes me the most mature person in my entire hometown.
To be completely honest, that is really sad.
Carter knocks on my door (for once!) and calls my name. “Carla?”
“Hm?” I’m curious as to what he wants if he’s knocking. He almost never knocks.
“I know you don’t believe the legends, but who’s your favorite wolf?”
“Out of the concepts?”
“Yeah.”
“Probably Maeda.”
“Is it ‘cause she hasn’t chosen a hero yet?”
“Nah, it’s cause I like the color scheme. Neither the heroes nor the wolves exist. I mean, my favorite color is blue.”
“Okay!” Carter’s footsteps fade into his room, and a few seconds later, he comes back.
“Can I come in?” he asks tentatively.
“Sure.”
He quietly opens the door, with my favorite hat in hand. Hesitantly taking a few steps, he places the hat on my desk.
“This isn’t like you, Carter. What’s up?”
He doesn’t say a word, and places the blue wolf silhouette pin on the front of the hat. (It’s a black winter hat, so it doesn’t get damaged.)
“You want to give this to me, don’t you?”
Carter nods.
“Why are you being so quiet?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know.”
“And why are you giving this to me? I mean, everyone knows that I have nothing positive towards the wolves.”
“I felt like I should give you one of the pins for some reason.”
“Where are the other pins going to go?” I inquire, curious.
“I think I’m going to give the Aetha pin to my friend Ethan. He’s gonna love it!”
“Okay. But I’m still wondering why you gave the blue one to me and not one of your other friends.”
“Like I said,” Carter responds, “I had this weird feeling that I should give one of the pins to you. I don’t know how to explain it.”
“But I don’t really want it,” I explain. “Take it back and give it to one of your other friends. Luke, maybe.”
“No, you take it. It’s for you.”
“I bought them for you, not for me. Give it to one of your other friends.” I remove the blue pin from my hat and clasp it in his hand.
He huffs, “Take it, Carla!” and puts it on top of my hat, but doesn’t pin it on.
“Okay. Geez. Chill.”
He leaves the room, satisfied, and heads downstairs. Once I’m certain he’s gone, I sneak to his room door and peek inside. It’s a mess, but at least I can still see the floor. I quickly toss the pin under his bed. He won’t find it there. It slides a bit, lodging itself behind a bin he hasn’t touched in months. Perfect.
I sneak back into my room and sit down at my desk. I eye my favorite hat and then grab it, tossing it into my backpack. Looking at the clock, I realize how early it is. Only 5:46 PM. (That’s not exactly early, but I go to bed at ten.)
I flop on my bed and grab my phone, ready to chill out and watch some YouTube. Before that can happen, though, I get a text from my group chat with my two best friends, Adrien and Elise.
Adrien: Hey Elise!
Elise: Huh? Sup?
Adrien: You know how carla doesnt believe the legend about the wolves?
Elise: Yeah so?
Adrien: has it been getting on ur nerves lately?
Elise: no
Elise: well maybe sort of
Adrien: well it’s been getting on mine
Adrien: so ive been thinking
Elise: wat
Adrien: maybe if we stop hanging around her we can become more popular and get real friends
Elise: I dont wanna ditch carla!
Adrien: then ill have to stop hanging around u too, and ill tell everyone that u chose a stupid skeptic over me
Elise: okay okay fine ill do it with u
Adrien: that’s better
Adrien: we start on monday okay?
Elise: okay…

I stare at my screen in shock, and quickly text the group chat.
Carla: why are you doing this in gc??? if ur gonna ditch me, at least have the decency to plan it in private!

They quickly text back.

Elise: im so sorry carla! Adrien made me do it!
Adrien: if u want a bf then hanging around carla isnt the way to get 1
Adrien: nobody likes a skeptic
Carla: if ur so intent on ditching me then ill have to block u two
Adrien: ifne with me
Adrien: fine*

I go into my contacts and hunt for Adrien Mella, and then block any calls or messages that come from her. Soon, I find Elise Cherie’s contact, and text her.

Carla: I havent blocked u so we can still chat in secret
Elise: my mom wont let me text u anymore tho..
Carla: is she making u listen to adrien?
Elise: yeah sry
Carla: oh its fine
Carla: at least its not something ur doing willingly rite?
Elise: yeah but I still cant do anything about it
Carla: so is this goodbye or what
Elise: yeah pretty much
Carla: should I block your number?
Elise: u can if u want
Carla: okay, this is it
Carla: goodbye
Elise: bye

I block Elise’s number for good measure, and so I can be truthful with that text from the group chat. I pull up YouTube, but this time for a different reason. I load up a Vine compilation to watch as I try not to cry.
Adrien is my new worst enemy.
Chapter 2
Spoiler:
After binge watching some Vines for two hours, I’ve calmed down completely. I’m actually in a better mood than I was before, because let’s face it, Vines are pretty funny. And, the door was closed the entire time, which makes me feel even better.
I don’t keep water in my room at all. For my entire life, I have felt watched almost everywhere I go. When I was around eight years old, I figured out that the watching feeling goes away once I dump all water in the room down the drain, or when someone drinks it. Ever since then, I have been dumping out every single cup of water I see unless I know who it belongs to. I then flip the cup over and bang it down right next to the sink (if it’s not my duty to wash said cup, anyway).
Unsurprisingly, I’ve sometimes wondered if I have some sort of mental disorder. I don’t ever bring it up, because I know I would get strange looks and my parents probably wouldn’t even care. Other than this odd habit (and my skepticism), I’m a perfectly normal Mountain Point resident.
I head downstairs and make my way to the fridge. I grab the leftovers from dinner and stick it in the microwave, making sure to pop the lid before letting it whirr into action. But the feeling of being spied on suddenly makes its unwelcome appearance in full force. I look over at the kitchen table, and sure enough, there’s a glass of water. I pick it up and inspect it.
“Whose cup of water is this?”
“It’s mine, but you can dump it out,” Dad shouts up the stairs.
Phew. Thank goodness.
I head over to the sink and hold the cup over it, as per routine. I flip it over not even a second later, but this time, something odd happens.
The water stays glued to the inside of the cup. Even though it’s upside down, the water is still sitting at the bottom of the cup like everything’s perfectly normal.
“What the heck?!”
I flip the cup back over, and fetch some ice cubes. I stick them to the inside of the cup, and turn the sink on to the highest setting of hot. In preparation, I grab a small hand broom.
After a few minutes, the water starts to steam. The microwave dings, but this should be finished first before I eat. I hold the cup of water over the sink once more, flipping it again, and the water indeed stays inside the cup.
I then flip the cup right side up again and drop it into the sink. Even though it’s pretty thick glass, it shatters.
My plan worked perfectly.
I turn off the sink and wait for both the scalding and freezing water to slide down the drain. The heat of the hot water melted the ice cubes, so everything ends up winding down the pipes.
I clean up the glass mess, deliver the shards to the trash can, and dry out the sink completely.
Only now is it time for me to eat.
I grab my leftovers from the microwave (which are still hot, thankfully) and head over to the table. Mom and Dad left me a fork, at least. I toss the tupperware container’s lid into the sink and begin eating my meal, which consists of two chicken strips, some corn, and instant mashed potatoes. It doesn’t taste too bad, actually. My mom’s a pretty decent cook. She’s not great, but she doesn’t burn everything she tries to make, either.
Once I finish the leftovers, I quickly wash my dishes, dry them, and put them away. The oven clock says 8:31 PM. Maybe I can take a little walk before getting ready for bed. I do have some time to spare.
I grab my phone so my parents can call me if they need me, and so I can call 911 in the off chance that I get involved in an emergency somehow. I stick it in my back pocket and wiggle my feet into the cute boots I wore to the convenience store with Carter.
I then head out into my neighborhood, securely shutting the door behind me.


Maeda stares at the now normal reflection of the small pond in shock. How did that girl (who she found to be named Carla) figure out how to evade her gaze so fast? Somehow, Carla knows she’s being watched, but not from this deep in the woods. There’s no way Carla knows how to track her here.
[It is time,] Maeda mutters to herself. [This cannot go on any longer. For ten years she avoided my watch, but this time I will make sure I can observe longer. I must go up close.]
With that, the cobalt wolf bounds through the woods, heading for the edge.
Carla can’t avoid her now.


After a few minutes of walking, I get the familiar watching feeling. Again. I quickly glance around to find there’s not a single glass of water (or any liquid, for that matter) in sight. The general rule of thumb with this feeling is that if I can’t see the glass of water, then the watching feeling can’t see me. The fact that it’s here now baffles me. The strength of it doesn’t help either, considering the fact that this is the strongest it’s ever been.
I walk a little faster, and I suddenly hear rustling in the woods. It’s very nearby, and it sounds like it’s quite big, too. I don’t think it’s human, because the footsteps go faster than a human’s ever could.
I don’t know what’s out there, but it’s following me.
The sun has dipped its head for the day, and the streetlights flicker on. They’re paced every hundred meters or so, and aren’t in the best condition. I examine my surroundings carefully, only to find I’m in the sketchy side of town. Great. I’m walking down the street at 9:00 at night, on the wrong side of the tracks with something big following me. I space my feet out a little bit, ready to stand my ground if I need to.
It’s a two lane road, with the standard yellow stripes down the middle. On the right side (which I’m on), there’s a few houses, each one separated from the others around it by about fifty meters. They all have peeling paint and barred windows. Most of them are white or a light shade of gray. The porches are empty, and the cars are probably in the closed garages, because I don’t see a single car sitting in the driveway. The backyards are fenced, and behind them is forest. Some of them have lights on, but the ones closest to me are both dark. The only light I have is the flickering streetlight in front of me. On the other side of the road, there is a sidewalk next to the fenced-off woods which the creature following me is in.
The streetlight in front of me flickers, and I step in front of it bravely, spacing my legs out a little bit again like I did earlier. I’m right in front of the curb, standing at the very edge of the road.
“I know you’re out there,” I shout courageously to whoever’s watching me, unsure if they can hear my words. “Come out and show yourself!”
I hear rustling along the ground as the creature takes a few steps, then I see a flash of cobalt blue as it jumps past the open space between the two trees closest to me from behind the fence. The creature, which looks to be some sort of wolf, then darts into the woods.
Wait.
Blue?
I rewind the scene in my head to find that the creature was most definitely blue. It takes me a minute to realize that not only is the blue “wolf” gone, but so is the feeling of being watched.
I run the rest of the way home.
Upon arriving in my room, I plug in my phone and grab a nightgown. It’s already 9:45, so I take a quick shower and brush my teeth, and since it’s already so close to my bedtime, I might as well go to sleep. So I do.


I suddenly find myself fully clothed, standing in the middle of an open, grassy clearing. Woods are all around me, and they seem to be sloping downwards. I’m guessing I’m on top of a mountain.
Looking up, I see cirrostratus clouds floating through an otherwise cheery blue sky. The wind blows through my hair, and the air is crisp and clean. It takes me a moment to realize I’m far away from any civilization. The air doesn’t smell like humans dwell here. It’s too fresh-smelling.
I hear footsteps padding towards my general direction, and I look in front of me. On the other side of the small meadow stands a large cobalt blue wolf with shimmering golden eyes. Its fur is laced with hints of aquamarine, turquoise, and sea blue.
The wolf looks at me with its shining eyes, and a feminine telepathic voice enters my mind, loud and clear, pleading, [I do not know if you know who I am, but I badly need your help.]
I raise an eyebrow. “Okay. . . And? What is that supposed to mean? Who the heck are you, anyway?”
[I am Maeda, the Wolf of the Sea. I already know who you are, Carla.]
I mutter, “Yeah, ‘cause that’s totally not creepy or anything.”
[I need your help.]
“You already said that.” The oddness of this whole situation starts to set in. This has got to be one of the most awkward points of my current life. I mean, come on. I’m getting asked for help for I-don’t-even-know-what by a blue wolf.
[There must be three heroes. Reuha and Aetha have both chosen already.]
“And why did you come to me? Anyone else would’ve taken this in a heartbeat.”
[Everyone else is blindly following this legend. You have the strength to make a path for yourself even when being put down for doing so.]
This is starting to sound pretty whacked out.
[Destruction is coming soon. Everything you know and love . . . well, everything in general will be destroyed.]
“And this entails me because . . . ?”
[There must be three heroes. You are the third chosen.]
Those words hit me like a brick to the gut. With something so strange and alien and frankly life-changing, this had better be some sort of strange dream.
“W-Why me?! I’m no hero, just your average ordinary skeptic!” I wave my hands in front of me in a manner that says “What?! No!”
[Whether or not you think you are capable does not make any difference to me. I know that you are perfectly capable of this daunting task.]
“One last question.”
[What is it?]
“Were you the one making me feel watched every time there was a glass of water in the same room as me?” Crap, this is a ridiculous question. Asking her about my delusions, is that really a good ide-
[Yes. That was me watching you.]
“Creep!”
The wolf telepathically chuckles, and the entire scene starts changing into a bright white. Soon, it’s too much, and I wake up.


Deep in the woods, at the bottom of a seemingly shallow pool, two gemstones, each about the size of an apple, start to illuminate the inky bottom. One shines ruby, and the other glows green. A string of stray light begins to trace its way to the surface for each of them. They rise at the same rate, and break out of the water, facing opposite of each other. The light then plants itself on the ground, and each string starts pouring more and more light into the chosen spot, until each area now holds the shape of a girl. The light then solidifies, leaving two young women standing at the edge of the pool, facing each other.
“Celia?” the green one says. Her hair is a dark, grassy green with a very light green strip about two centimeters wide flowing through the right side of her head and her ponytail. She wears a strapless green dress with a gradient of light green at the top fading down to dark green at the bottom. Her shoes are shiny, black flats with cute bows on the toes. The girl’s golden eyes shine in the moonlight, glad to see her friend again.
The redhead looks at the other young woman. Her hair is a short, deep crimson bob with a two centimeter strip of almost white red falling down the right side of her hair. She wears a dark red tank top, a light denim skirt, black leggings, and black and white checkered Vans loafers.
“Oh dang, Charm. How long were we out?” the redhead asks, dazed.
“I think maybe a few days? A week? It didn’t feel very long,” the green girl replies.
“It would probably help if we found some civilization,” the red-haired young lady suggests.
The green-haired girl, Charm, replies, “Good idea, Celia. Let’s go.”


I sit up, dazed. My room is bathed in moonlight, and I have no idea what time it is. That was definitely a strange dream, though. I check my alarm clock. 1:36 AM. I kind of need to go to the bathroom.
I quietly get out of my bed, and tiredly walk to the bathroom. After doing my business in there, I wash my hands, and look up at the mirror.
I gasp. My hair is very blue.
Most of it is a deep cobalt, but there’s this one strip on the right side of my hair that I’d say is about two centimeters wide, and it’s a much lighter blue, almost white. I finish washing my hands, dry them off, and then search in the cabinet underneath the sink for the black hair dye I bought a few months back, when Carter decided to be a little prick and tried to dye my hair in my sleep. He must’ve come back with a rematch.
There we go! Found it!
I grab it and set it next to the sink, closing the cabinet. I hold my head over the sink, take the bottle, and squirt some of the dye on my hand to test on my hair. I rub the dye on, putting it on a random strip of hair from top to bottom.
I’m about to start officially when the black dye starts sliding – yes, sliding – right off. It makes its way down the strands of hair and pools in the sink, swirling down the drain.
My eyes widen, and I mutter, “I’m doing this in the morning.”
I place the hair dye bottle back in the cabinet for now, and head to bed again. Maybe this is part of the strange dream I had, and am still having.
I soon drift off to sleep.


I wake up, and stretch. What an odd dream last night. The weird wolf and the hair dye? Never thought I’d have a dream like that. Then I catch sight of the mirror.
Oh.
“CARTER!” I shout.
“What?” I hear him yell from his room.
“Why’d you dye my hair last night?!”
“I didn’t!”
I stomp over to his open room door, still in my pajamas. “You’re saying you didn’t do this?!” I point to my hair.
Carter’s halfway under the bed, searching for something. He pulls himself out, and looks at me.
“No! It wasn’t me!”
I notice the Maeda pin sitting under there, but don’t say anything about it.
“Well then, who did do it?”
Carter shrugs.
[I did.]
I jump. That’s the voice of the wolf from my dream! Have I finally lost it?!
Carter doesn’t seem to notice, and is about to go back under his bed to search when he sees the Maeda pin.
“Carla! I gave this to you!”
He presses the pin into my hand and closes it, huffing, “Keep it this time!”
I sigh, and go back to my room. No point fighting him a second time. I find my favorite hat, and attach the Maeda pin to the outer rim. I close my door and change into a pair of short shorts and a black V-neck shirt. I slip on some black ankle socks, and brush my hair real good so I can put it up into a bun. Unfortunately, there’s this one small section of my hair that’s just barely too short to join in with the rest of the bun. I grab a bobby pin and pin the section to fit in with the rest of the bun. I then slip on the hat, making sure to cover up as much hair as humanly possible. Blue may be my favorite color, but having it as a permanent hair hue is a bit much.
I grab my brown A & W hoodie and slip it on, putting the hood up for good measure. I then tighten the drawstrings and tie them into a nice little bow so that nobody can put my hood down randomly.
I head downstairs, grab a banana, slip on my cute black boots, and shout upstairs, “I’m heading out, see ya later!”
“Okay!” Carter shouts down.
“See ya later, honey,” Mom replies.
“See you later,” Dad responds.
I’m about to go outside when Carter shouts, “Wait! I wanna come with!”
“You sure?”
“Yeah!”
I grab my phone and shove it in my pocket. “Grab a banana and let’s go.”
Carter already has his shoes on, so we both go outside and start taking a walk. I don’t tell him that I’m planning on going to the therapist to get my mental health checked.
The much brighter streets calm my mind a little bit, and I have the opportunity to think things through in a rational manner.
Why did the blue wolf claiming to be Maeda spy on me for practically my entire life? Why did it show itself last night? What was that weird dream all about?
[All will be explained in due time, Carla. Be patient.]
There it is again! That weird voice! Why is it plaguing my thoughts?!
Said thoughts are interrupted when Carter tugs on my sleeve. “Can we go into the forest, Carla? I wanna explore!”
“Carter, it’s dangerous in the forest! Who knows what’s lurking in there?!”
But he runs off into the forest, forcing me to follow him. “Carter! Get back here!”
The trees and underbrush get thicker and thicker as we go deeper in. The fact that we’re also climbing upwards doesn’t help either. It’s about thirty or forty minutes in that he finally stops. I push away the last of the shrubbery to finally find a clearing.
It’s oddly grassy, with a clear pond in the center. The pond is about five or six feet across, and looks about a foot deep from here. Carter’s at the edge, staring in.
“Wow, it’s so pretty!”
Then I realize something. This area is beautiful, and quite tranquil, but it’s silent.
“Carter, do you hear that?”
“Huh? Hear what?”
“Listen carefully.”
He pauses for a few moments, then looks at me. “I don’t hear anything.”
“Exactly. It’s too quiet. It’s almost like we’re not supposed to be here.”
Carter looks nervous. “Carla, I don’t remember the way out. . .”
“And neither do I. We’re lost deep in the woods in a clearing that’s way too quiet. I told you we shouldn’t go in the woods, Carter. Yet here we are.”
I pull out my phone. “And we can’t call for help, either.”
“Why not?”
“No reception. We’re probably half an hour’s run away from where we started, and I don’t know how far away the next point of civilization is. They’ll have to run helicopters to find us.”
The area does look like it should be full of life. All of the trees are lush and green, and the grass is short, but healthy. The pond is so clear you can see straight to the bottom. The sky is cheery blue, and a few cumulus clouds are floating by, like they’re boats just floating off on the water. But there’s not a sound being made except for Carter and I.
Suddenly, I hear a footstep right outside the clearing. Carter and I both stand perfectly still, waiting to see if it would happen again. Another footstep, and another. They’re slow and careful. Calculating. Sneaky. Carter and I hold our breath.
“Carla, what’s going on?” Carter whispers.
I jump, startled. “We need to get out of here, now. Something’s out there, and it’s after us.”
Carter nods, and we turn around. I’m about to start running through the shrubbery I broke through earlier when suddenly the footsteps resume. They’re much faster this time. The creature is running. And right towards us, too. I sharply inhale just as something breaks through the shrubbery I’m just about to go through.
It’s a large, red wolf. And it’s terrifying.
I’m not talking about the species of red wolf, this thing is literally a red wolf. It’s fur is a blazing, fiery color, with traces of rusty red, maroon, and crimson on it as well. It’s got golden eyes, just like “Maeda” the dream wolf.
The wolf bares its teeth at us, and growls. A deep, gruff telepathic voice enters my head. [What are you doing here?]
Startled, I step back. They say dogs can smell your fear, and I’m assuming that’s probably the same case with wolves, considering they’re both canines. Meaning I’m probably pretty fragrant right now. I wonder if it can hear my heart beating, trying to escape my chest.
[Well?]
“Carter?” I whisper. “Can you see it too?”
He nervously replies, “The wolf? Yeah. . .”
The wolf seems to be growing impatient. I take a deep breath in an effort to calm myself down.
“So my brother Carter here wanted to go into the woods and I said no and he ran off and I followed him to try to catch up to him and he ended up getting tired and rested here and we’re just trying to get out of here now so could you please let us through? We mean no harm!”
My nervousness shows clearly through my voice. The wolf notices, and pauses. It circles around the two of us.
I whisper to Carter, “Don’t make any sudden movements!”
He nods, and both of us try to stay as still as possible. The wolf seems to be observing us. It sniffs both of us for a bit, and there’s even a point where it looks me straight in the eye. It lasts for about ten seconds, and a cold sweat runs down the back of my neck.
The wolf stops circling us. It looks at Carter. [The boy is free to go.]
I sigh in relief, but my reaction comes too early. The wolf then shifts its gaze to meet me in the eye. [You have an odd aura about you. You are coming with me.]
My eyes widen in terror, and I look back at Carter to find him staring at me in worry. “I’ll be fine, just go on ahead!”
He nods, and runs out of the clearing as fast as he can. I turn back to face the wolf, and I ask it, “What do you want?” I try to sound confident, and to keep the fear out of my voice. It mostly works.
It looks at me. [Follow me.]
I oblige, too scared to find out what’s gonna happen if I don’t. Adrenaline pumps through every cell in my body, and I’m so nervous I can’t quite think straight.
Actually, not quite. There’s this part of me at the back of my mind that is somehow perfectly calm. I focus on that calmness, and take deep breaths. As I follow the wolf, I find that my coping method works wonders. I can finally analyze the situation rationally.
First, I should find out what the wolf’s name is. Then, I should figure out what it wants from me, and finally, where it’s leading me and why. (And then ask for directions back home.)
I look at the red wolf, who has been silent ever since I started following it. I gather up a bit of courage, and, feeling a bit silly, ask it, “Um, w-what’s your name?”
[Be quiet.]
Well, that’s a bit harsh. But then an idea pops into my head.
With a poker face, I say, “Nice to meet you, Be Quiet.”
The wolf looks at me, incredulous. [Seriously?]
“You walked right into that one, buddy.”
The wolf sighs and turns around, walking a little faster. Feeling a little more bold, I wonder how much crap it can take.
“So, how’d you get a name like Be Quiet?”
[That is not my name.]
“Then what is your name?”
[Shut up!]
“Now I’m confused. Is it Be Quiet or Shut Up?”
[I said shut up!]
“So Shut Up is short for I Said Shut Up?” I giggle.
The wolf growls in frustration.
“Well then, nice to meet you, I Said Shut Up.”
The wolf growls again and starts running. “Hey, wait up, I Said Shut Up! I can’t keep up with you!”
[Good!]
“But you wanted me to follow you!”
[Fine! You are free to go!]
“Yusss!” I say under my breath, and do a quick happy dance. I start running in the opposite direction, and I Said Shut Up seems to realize what just happened, as I’m soon being pursued by it. It catches up to me, and then blocks my path.
[You are not getting away with that this time, Carla.]
“How do you know my name, I Said Shut Up?”
[Maeda told me. And my name is Reuha, so stop calling me I Said Shut Up.]
That explains a lot. It explains his color, his grumpiness, and why he’s kidnapping me.
[I heard that! I am not kidnapping you!]
And his insecurity, because he has to read everybody’s mind before feeling good about himself.
[Stop that!]
Nope.
It also explains why the earth has natural disasters. Reuha blows his top too often. I wonder what part of Hawaii is dying right now because of that.
And I didn’t know that his full name is Reuha So Stop Calling Me I Said Shut Up.
[What am I going to do with you?!]
I giggle. “Let me go?”
He growls, and bares his teeth. [No. You are coming with me.]
“Okay, okay. Chill.”
[Get on my back.]
Due to a certain meme-obsessed little brother, the first thing that comes to mind is He protecc, he attacc, and most importantly, he lets people ride on his bacc.
[What on earth is wrong with your thought life?]
“Blame the Internet.”
[What is the Internet?]
“Newfangled technology that wolves don’t use.”
[Thanks.] The wolf sounds sarcastic.
I get on Reuha So Stop Calling Me I Said Shut Up’s back, and he says, [Hold on tight. This might get a little bumpy.]
He bounds off, and we soon get into a part deeper into the woods than anyone I know has ever been. Reuha So Stop Calling Me I Said Shut Up soon finds a clearing, and two other wolves appear to be there. One is grassy green with lime and camouflage greens mixed in, and the other is the wolf from my dream last night.
“So, Reuha So Stop Calling Me I Said Shut Up, who are they?” I gesture to the two wolves in front of us, as I get off his back.
[The green one is Aetha, and the blue one is Maeda. And my name is Reuha.]
“You mean to tell me your full name isn’t Reuha So Stop Calling Me I Said Shut Up?”
[Yes.]
[You two seem to be getting along quite . . . swimmingly.] Maeda laughs at her own little pun. Then she seems to realize something, and walks over to me.
[Why are you covering your hair, Carla?]
Reuha notices something too. [How do you know her name, Maeda?]
Aetha seems to be curious for both questions.
Great. I’ve trapped myself.
“Um. . . hehehe. . .”
Splish!
A splash resounds in the distance, and it sounds like someone fell in somewhere. Sensing trouble, I run towards the source of the sound, and away from the wolves. Pushing the underbrush aside, I soon find myself at the same, crystal clear pond, but there’s one difference.
Carter is in the center, drowning.
I rush towards the pond, closing my eyes, and toss my phone out of my pocket at the last possible second. When I splash in, I find my entire body goes several feet underwater, and I still don’t touch the bottom.
I quickly swim upwards. Every second feels like an eternity as I can’t seem to find much buoyancy. If I can’t make it up there in time, Carter’s gonna die!
My lungs start to burn from holding my breath for so long. I’m almost there, just a little bit longer. . .
I manage to find Carter and push him towards the edge of the pond. I can’t do very much, but what I do manage to do seems to be enough as Carter seems to be lifted from the water.
But then I notice the water currents in here. The pond certainly didn’t look like it has water currents from the outside, but these water currents are spinning and dragging me downwards. Fast. I try to make my way to the surface, but my efforts are futile. The currents just drag me down even harder. My lungs can’t stand it anymore, and I realize my fate.
I’m going to die down here. Carter, please remember me. . .
I’m forced to take a breath, and start the process of my death. But as I inhale, expecting to cough, I realize nothing happens. Did I get into an air chamber? I don’t think so, as the cold water currents are still pulling me downwards. I tentatively open my eyes, and find I have perfect vision. Perfectly useless vision, that is.
I close my eyes again and feel the water currents around me. I’ve touched the bottom. It seems I can breathe underwater for some reason, and I realize I also feel . . . powerful down here. But why?
I need to focus on getting back to the surface. I can’t swim upwards, because of the water currents pulling me down. If only they would just go upward . . .
As if hearing my thoughts, the water currents start spinning in the opposite direction and I’m hoisted up through the water at speeds that could rival a jet’s. I feel the water pushing me up from below, and the water around me helping me up. I soon find myself out of the water, and a few feet in the air before I fall down to the ground with an “oof!”
I cough a bit, sputtering as all of the water I inhaled comes spewing out of my nose and onto the grass in front of me. Ew. I get up and try to wring some of the water out of my clothes, and notice Carter standing in front of me, eyes wide.
“How did you survive that, Carla?”
I shrug. I have absolutely no idea. But I tell him, “Let’s get out of here.”
We run through the forest, making our way past the shrubbery and underbrush. The areas we travel through are still lush, but they have no grass on the ground and there are actually animals here, making noise as we go along. I start to shiver; the water from the pond is getting to me. The only thing keeping me from freezing to death in this morning chill is the heat being generated from my running.
After about forty-five minutes, we manage to make it out of the forest. I’m sopping wet, and since I’m not moving anymore, the cold of the water that’s soaked into my clothes takes a full grip on my body temperature. I start shivering to the point that my teeth are chattering. It doesn’t help that it’s mid-October and I decided to wear shorts on a day that’s supposed to be real nice. I guess that didn’t work out, since it’s already 11:00 AM and it’s only 62 degrees out here. According to what my phone said earlier, anyways.
I examine my surroundings. Behind us is the forest we just came out of, and a few hundred feet away is a drugstore. Next to that is Annie’s Inn (it’s actually a lunch and dinner restaurant), and next to that is a doctor’s office. Perfect! I’ve finally found the place I was originally looking for. But maybe we should go out for lunch before I go in to get my head checked, after all, who knows how long that evaluation is going to take?
I reach for my pocket to grab my phone, so I can call Mom and Dad and let them know we’re going out to eat.
But my phone is gone, and I know exactly where I left it.
It’s sitting not even five feet away from the pool Carter almost drowned in.
Last edited by kittycathead on Wed Sep 04, 2019 5:50 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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Re: the story I'm writing so far

Postby kittycathead » Wed Sep 04, 2019 5:48 pm

Chapter 3
Spoiler:
Reuha sighs. [What is that girl doing?]
Aetha looks at him. [Maybe we should go after her. Chances are, she took this moment of distraction to escape.]
Maeda nods, looking at them both. [Aetha is right. Knowing her, she probably did try to escape. What she is going to do next, however, is a mystery. We should find her to find out.]
[Is it settled, then?] Aetha inquires curiously.
[Yes, I believe so.] Reuha pauses for a moment. [What shall the plan be?]
Maeda immediately responds, [Aetha and I will sniff her out. Someone needs to hold down the fort, so to speak, and you might as well do that since you are, for all intents and purposes, the leader.]
Reuha and Aetha nod. [It’s a plan.]


“Carter, my phone is still at that pond.”
He gasps, understanding the implications of that statement. We’d have to go all the way back because I didn’t think to grab my phone from the ground when we escaped, and possibly have to face Reuha and the other wolves again.
“Don’t worry, buddy, I won’t take you with me. Can you just wait in the store over there? I don’t know how long I’ll be, but that’s probably the best place to wait for now.”
Carter nods, and I head back into the woods. Since I don’t remember where I went, I just keep going forward. The trees are pretty tall, and they seem to be lined up in a manner that reminds me of pillars in a big, grand hallway. Their roots claw at the ground, finding purchase yet still showing themselves quite a bit. The leaves of the trees are starting to turn yellow and brown, but many of them are still green. The ground is covered in a blanket of brown leaves and twigs, with some dirt and small plants peeking through here and there.
As I keep moving along, I notice that there are less and less browning trees as I get closer to the pond, and of course less and less animals. Grass starts to peek up through the forest floor, and it gets denser as I go along. As the greenery gets greener, my nervousness that I hadn’t realized until just now gets more intense. This time, the calmness that helped me out earlier is substituted with some sort of determined focus. I’m on my own.
I take deep breaths, trying to calm myself down before I reach the silent zone. A slight breeze suddenly passes through, rustling all of the leaves and making me jump. I stop, continuing to take deep breaths in an effort to retain my emotional stability. It doesn’t help that I’m still shivering from earlier, or that this place is up a steep mountain. The water’s dried out some, but not much.
It takes another five minutes before I hit said silent zone. Every step I take sounds about as loud as an explosion, in my mind. In reality, it’s not that loud, but in a silent place, everything is amplified. I’m sure that wherever Reuha is lurking, he can hear my footsteps. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s just about ready to kill me. I hope and pray he’s not there.
Pretty soon, I reach the clearing. Peeking through the bushes, I immediately notice my phone, still sitting where it was tossed earlier. It’s perfectly intact, as I keep it in a durable case at all times. Thankfully, there’s no sign of Reuha or any of the other wolves.
I sneak out of the bushes, then run straight towards my phone, picking it up off the ground. Slipping it in my pocket, I then run out of the clearing as fast as I can go. The downward slope helps me run faster, but it also makes it easier to trip on stray tree roots laying around. I force myself to keep going faster despite this. I have to go faster. . . faster . . .
Bam!
My foot hits a tree root. It was bound to happen, due to me not being careful, but still. I start tumbling down the mountain, unable to stop myself. Trying to grab onto something does nothing, as the thing either goes down with me or I miss entirely.
I soon exit the silent zone, and I still can’t stop tumbling down. Am I really going to be stuck like this for the next forty minutes?! I’m going to get bruises galore!
I shriek as my head hits something hard, slowing me down just a little. It’s enough time to grab onto the thing, which happens to be a tree root. I use it to stand myself up again, and upon standing up, I realize just how much damage I’ve done.
“Ow. . .”
My entire body hurts. It’s kind of hard to walk or run, especially running. I still try to run, despite the fact that I almost cry out in pain for every step I take. Soon, I start to wonder why I’m not tired yet, because I should be just about ready to faint from exhaustion right now. Suddenly, another set of footsteps starts following mine. I’m being chased. Afraid to look back to see who it is, I push myself faster, even though it hurts to do so. My feet pound against the ground, as I desperately try to escape, or at least evade my fate for as long as possible.
Eventually, I see the bottom of the mountain. My pursuer is about to catch me when I accidentally trip over another tree root and tumble down the rest of the way, into the clearing which happens to be the same one with the drugstore. Upon seeing my arrival into the open, the pursuer runs off.
I try to push myself up off the ground, and manage to shakily get my balance. I hobble over to the double doors of the drugstore, pushing them open and searching for Carter.
It doesn’t take him long to spot me. “Carla! What happened?!”
“So I got my phone, and then as I was leaving, I tripped and tumbled down the mountain. Twice. And I was being chased by somebody, I don’t know who. Let’s go home, alrighty?”
“What about eating out?”
“Oh, yeah! But I don’t have my money on me right now, sorry. . .”
“Aww! Come on!”
“Sorry!”
As we head home, Carter strikes up some conversation, but I’m pretty worn out, so I don’t answer all of the questions he asks.
“Carla, why are the wolves chasing you?”
I just shrug.
“Carla, are you scared of them?”
“Sorta, yeah. I mean, wolves are kinda scary.”
“I see what you mean.”
We soon arrive at the house, and I drop Carter off. Grabbing a sandwich and my purse, I head out to the doctor’s office.
As I munch on the salami, cheese and mayonnaise goodness, I begin to wonder why I didn’t do this earlier. I mean, paranoia is technically considered a mental disorder in and of itself, and the fact that I got the watching feeling from a glass of water is even odder.
My wet boots slap on the pavement, reminding me of my soaked state and making me realize that this wetness isn’t bothering me anymore. It hasn’t for some time now. I put my head down to face the sidewalk a little bit in efforts to obscure my face from passerby, as I limp to the mental health center. My bruises are really taking a toll on my walking speed.
Paying no mind to who might be staring at me, I finally make it to the center. I look up at it to find it’s a small, white building. There’s a sign above the centered door that says Psychiatrist in black lettering. Above the sign is a metal strip protecting a string of lights from the elements, which turn on at night to illuminate the painted letters. They don’t even look like professional lights, I think they’re just Christmas lights. This place seems sketchy, but it’ll have to do for now. After all, all psychiatrists need a license and a degree in order to be able to do their job at all. So this one probably just happened to want a humble abode.
I hobble over to the door, pushing it open and stepping inside. All of the people in the small, cramped waiting room just stare at me as I drag my sopping wet self over to the appointment desk.
“How may I help you?” The attendant’s voice is a little shaky. I’m not surprised, considering I probably look like some sort of hobo or something.
“Can I book an appointment?”
“Today?”
“Yes, please. As soon as possible.”
“What for?”
“Just an evaluation.”
“I see. We’ll get you a questionnaire right away.”
The attendant lady heads to the back of her tiny desk area and pulls out a clipboard and a sheet of paper. She sticks the paper to the clipboard and hands me a pink, sparkly pen from her pen cup. The clipboard is just brown with a silver clip.
I head back to the waiting room, and sit on the floor. All of the chairs are taken. There’s probably about five or six chairs in here, and the room has white walls and a white ceiling. The floor is just a dark gray carpet. It’s kind of shaggy.
In one corner of the room is an oak wood table with many different types of magazines stacked on top of it. There’s cooking magazines, racing magazines, science magazines, and gossip magazines. Next to the magazine pile stands a clear plastic brochure holder that’s full to the brim with various brochures explaining common mental disorders. On the other side of the brochure holder stands a business card holder, which is chock full of shiny white cards with a picture of a pink brain and the name Dr. Nancy Fanngeim, PhD, along with a phone number. I take one and stick it in my bag.
In the chairs there sits a very pregnant Hispanic lady, a teenage, skinny-looking black girl, an Asian couple, and a long-bearded guy dragging a cigarette. He has an ashtray on his lap. Part of me is curious what everyone else is doing here, but I know it’s none of my business and I’m not inclined to ask.
I fill out the little bubbles on the questionnaire, which asks questions like “Have you ever seen visions/heard voices?” and “How often do you think about killing yourself?” I notice the questionnaire is for thirteen to twenty year olds, and I wonder how she figured out my age so fast.
It doesn’t take me long to finish, and I hand the clipboard and pen back to the lady, with my questionnaire still attached, but completed. She ushers me to a room with a doctor in it. She introduces herself as Dr. Fanngeim, but tells me to just call her Nancy.
Nancy looks over my questionnaire, and asks me to explain what kinds of things I’ve been seeing, what kind of voices I’ve been hearing, blah blah blah.
I quickly summarize the events of this weekend so far, and tell her about my childhood cup habit. I explain how I’ve never been severely depressed or had anxiety, and generally I’m pretty calm and rational.
She looks at me. “Carla, I understand that you may be thinking you’ve lost your marbles. But you’re right, you’re a very rational person. But your visions are consistent with the voices in your head, and all the details click together. They might be outrageous and seemingly impossible, but they line up perfectly with Mountain Point lore. This might be good or bad news, depending on your perspective, but I’m deeming you as perfectly sane.”
“Just because of a stupid legend?!” I exclaim, outraged.
“No,” she explains, “it’s because of the consistency of your story. Despite all of the fantastical details, the story makes perfect rational sense.”
Yeah, no it doesn’t. Anywhere else in the world, I’d be put in a mental hospital.
“It does not.”
“Yes, it does. You can’t just ride on the back of a vision.”
She does have a point.
“Maybe I was imagining it the entire time?”
“Carla, you’re overthinking this way too much. Please accept your sanity.”
“I’m sorry, I can’t help it!”
I leave the premises, and find myself heading towards the mall. The last thing I want to do right now is run into one of the wolves. Facing my head towards the ground, I try to keep myself in the crowds, and try to ignore the fact that I’m still soaked to the bone. Maybe I should go home and change my outfit.
On the bright side, my bruises are feeling a hundred times better. Not because I haven’t been paying attention to them, but it seems they are healing at some superhuman speed or something. Or the bruises aren’t as bad as I initially thought. Yeah, it’s most definitely the latter.
I fight the urge to go to the mall for no known reason, and head home to change my outfit. The trees and mountains surround my shallow neighborhood, stopping just short of engulfing the houses in the dark, angry woods. The houses are spaced far apart from each other, all white or light gray with some degree of peeling paint. There’s not too much of a sidewalk in this part of town, and what’s there is half covered by weeds and things.
It’s not too long before I find myself in an open area surrounded by trees, but without any houses. It’s a dead end, too, which confuses me. Is it a deserted idea for a cul-de-sac? I have no idea, but it’s most certainly deserted. The sky is full of cotton ball cumulus clouds, which are just drifting by lazily as if they’re floating off into the distance. (Which they kind of are.)
I’m suddenly overcome by some sort of sleep wave, and I have to fight to stay awake. Trying to keep my balance is futile, and I collapse, falling forward. I expect to hit the hard ground, but a random force catches me and sets me down gently. It doesn’t take very long for me to black out completely.


I wake up. Where am I? What happened?
A quick examination of my surroundings reveals I’m stuck inside some sort of warehouse room. There’s crates surrounding me and hiding my location, and everything else around me looks like dull, gray metal. The room is almost pitch black, and I can barely see anything.
I’ve been kidnapped!
I try to struggle out of the bonds I’ve been put in. My hands and feet are tied together behind my back so I can’t escape. Even worse, I’m still wet.
“Excuse me?!” I shout. “Who kidnapped me?!”
A low, masculine chuckle rings throughout the room. “I did, sweetie.”
I shudder. The way he says “sweetie” sends chills down my spine. I don’t like the sound of this guy at all.
He steps in front of me, revealing himself. I can’t see his face or anything, but he’s wearing a dark cloak that covers his entire body, and it has a hood which is covering his face.
“Okay, mister. Why?”
He gives me what looks like an evil grin. I can’t see his eyes at all, and I can just barely see his mouth’s expression. “You have something I want, sweetheart. Something I will do just about anything to get.”
I squirm. This guy is making me nervous. His face is shaved, and he sounds like a twenty year old. The way he talks makes him sound all-around creepy.
A bead of cold sweat trickles down my neck at the speed of a car in city traffic.
“What do you want?”
I hope it’s not something creepy like my virginity or something. I shiver as I stare up at him.
“Oh, sweetie, nothing much. All I want is your abilities. Your immortality. Your overflowing power, and the respect of a hero.”
That sounds like a little bit more than nothing. However, this was kinda sorta bestowed on me against my will, so -
[No! Don’t do it!]
A sharp cry echoes throughout my mind. The man notices, and smirks.
“It’s okay, sweetie, you don’t have to listen to that little nagging voice in your head.”
Every fiber of my being is screaming to keep this special ability and this duty, right alongside with the telepathic voice that invaded my head without my permission. I decide to listen to this voice, and glare at the man.
“No. Absolutely not.”
The man scowls. “I just knew this would happen. Shame. Looks like I’ll have to take it by force, then.”
I shudder, and (actually) wake up.


I find myself in the same spot I fell unconscious in, and I quickly stand up and check my surroundings. That weird dream I just had is setting me on edge. It’s a lot darker outside than it was when I was knocked out by the random force, and stars pockmark the sky, poking holes through an otherwise dark surface. The trees loom over me, most with browning leaves, and the ground is an overgrown cul-de-sac. There’s no houses, but there is clearly aged asphalt. There’s tons of cracks, and weeds are poking through them like Armageddon’s going to come if they don’t.
I should head home. It’s almost ten, my typical bedtime, and tomorrow’s Monday.
I start casually cruising through the neighborhood, with my semi-fast walking speed making my life a little bit easier. A small rustling sound catches my attention, but it’s merely a rabbit hopping through the underbrush of the forest beside me. I begin to ponder: what makes that rabbit so special? Nothing. None of us are special from each other, either. No one is higher than anyone else; we’re all human. We’re all unique, but no one is better than anyone else. Everyone has different skills and talents, but none are better than the others.
Oh, look. I’m getting philosophical.
I immediately shed that train of thought and start watching the scenery around me a little bit more carefully. The trees anxiously watch me, waiting for me to head into the forest and explore. But I can’t really do that right now. Sorry, trees.
I check my watch. 9:46. I’m almost home, just a few more blocks. I’m a bit wary this time of night, considering the fact that it’s pitch black out here and I’m a teenage girl. (I’m eighteen, but I’m technically still a teenager.)
I make it home safely, and take a quick shower. After tossing my sopping clothes into the hamper and slipping into my nightgown, I go to bed silently. My head reaches the pillow before I realize it, and I quickly drift off to sleep.


Beep! Beep! Beep!
My alarm clock’s shrill beeping startles me out of my sleep, and I groan, rolling over to turn it off. I end up rolling out of bed and landing on the floor with an “Oof!” Stupid Mondays. Why can’t I just sleep in a little?
I groggily get up, fixing my sheets and blanket to make my bed look made. I change out of my nightgown into a sleeveless peach dress covered with sunflowers. It goes halfway down my thigh, and has a sort of belt right underneath my bust separating the top and bottom from each other. It’s just a pouch of sorts containing a string tied into a pretty little bow. The dress hangs a little loosely, but it’s not baggy.
I brush my abominable blue hair that doesn’t match anything anymore, and put it into a bun. The chunk that won’t obey just ends up behind my left ear. I grab my black winter hat from the hamper, remove the Maeda pin from it, and replace the pin onto a similarly shaped cream hat, in the same spot as it was on the black one. I slip it on over my head, trying my best to get all of my hair covered.
Slipping on my black rounded flats, I head downstairs. I know there’s no fathomable reason to look this nice on a Monday, but I just felt like it. The hat completely contradicts the rest of my outfit, but I don’t care.
I grab a banana and my backpack, pack my lunch, and stick it inside, zipping my bag closed. Slinging it over my shoulder, I call out a quick “Bye!” and head off for school.
It’s a cool, crisp morning, in my estimation about fifty degrees. I think I can manage, as long as there isn’t a breeze. I’m not super great with heat or cold, but I can handle this.
At least, that’s how it used to be.
A strong wind envelops me, causing me to flinch by its sudden presence. My eyes widen when I realize I’m not cold at all. I’m perfectly okay, except for the fact that the wind is close to bowling me over. I clutch tightly to my hat, trying to make sure it doesn’t fly off and expose the stupid dream hair that I got yesterday. (Dream hair meaning hair I got from a dream, not hair I’ve wanted for my entire life. I can’t stand this hair.)
I stagger through the stupid wind, keeping my head low in order to hide my face, and I end up literally running into two complete strangers.
Quickly snapping my head up, I apologize. “Sorry!”
The girl I bumped into has red hair in a short bob, and a light strip of red, almost white and about two centimeters wide, falls down on her right, my left side of her hair. She wears a maroon tank top, a short, light colored denim skirt, black leggings, and checkered black and white Vans loafers.
Her friend has green hair, with the same strip flowing through her right side of her hair, except light green. Her hair is up in a ponytail, but looks like it would be a little bit longer than my shoulder length hair. She wears a strapless dress, mint green on top, but with a gradient to a dark pine green at the bottom. It falls down to her knees. Her shoes are black flats, like mine, except hers are shiny with black bows as well.
They both look at me, the greenette with a curious gaze, and the redhead with a glare. I try to run off, but the redhead grabs my arm.
“So we’ve finally found you.”
Annoyed and a little creeped out, I turn around. “Excuse me, but I’m trying to get to school. It’s Monday. And besides, I don’t even know you.”
I try to get out of her grip, but it remains. Dang, she’s strong.
“I’m Celia, and the girl next to me is Charm. Now you know.”
“And why are you even looking for me? I’m literally just some random average girl off the street.”
“No, you’re not. I can tell.”
“Whatever you say, creep.”
It’s only now I realize their hair matches mine. Not only that, but they both have golden eyes. I don’t say any of this, obviously. That would just blow my cover.
Despite my struggles and protests, the redhead practically starts dragging me. “You’re coming with us.”
“So why are you kidnapping me again?”
The redhead, Celia, doesn’t say anything to me. What she does do is tell Charm, the greenette, to pry my arms off my hat and to take it off. Which only motivates me to hold onto my hat tighter.
Charm slowly walks over to me, seemingly unaffected by this extremely strong wind. She seems to notice the Maeda pin, and nods at it.
“Pins don’t talk, by the way.”
Charm seems to be taken by surprise by my comment. “It didn’t,” she mutters in a quiet voice.
“Well, it sure looked like you were, like, responding to it or something.”
Charm shakes her head, and then, in a split second, she catches me off guard by swiping the hat off my head.
“Ah! Hey, what the heck!” I shriek, surprised.
They both stare at me, mouths agape.
“You’re the third hero!” Charm exclaims.
“Shhh!”
“You’re most definitely coming with me,” Celia growls. “Why have you been trying to hide yourself?”
“Hello? Practical reasons like not being spotted a mile away? And thus being harder to kidnap?” I try not to sound annoyed.
The actual main reasons are because I hate this hair, and I’m no hero at all. Especially not this “third hero” everyone’s been talking about. I mean, come on. There must have been some mistake. But I’m not telling her that for fear that she’s going to completely maul me. This girl is intimidating.
She takes me into the woods (eep!) and brings me to the same pool that Carter almost drowned in. Keeping her grip tight, she seems to be deeply focusing on something else.
Suddenly, a very familiar red wolf bounds into the clearing, followed closely by a blue and a green wolf.
Maeda immediately turns her attention towards me. [Carla! You came!]
“No, I was kidnapped and dragged here by two girls with funky-colored hair and questionable sanity.”
Maeda laughs. [I love your way of phrasing things.]
Everyone pauses for a moment. It’s Maeda who ends up breaking the silence.
[Now, it’s time for a proper introduction. Everyone, this is Carla. She is the one I have chosen.]
These words don’t impact me any less than when they were said in my dream. They might actually impact me more, knowing for certain I’m in reality.
“So that’s your name. . .” Charm murmurs, pondering.
“Carla? Interesting,” Celia adds.
I look at the wolves, and then at Celia and Charm. Annoyance seeps into my voice when I say, “Can I get to school now? Please?”
Eventually, Reuha nods. [You may go.]
I make a beeline for the nearest exit, but Maeda stops me by saying, [Take them with you. They’ve already enrolled in your school.]
“What?!” I shout, incredulous. “They’re going to school with me?!”
Maeda nods, and I mutter, “Follow me.”
The two girls nod, and they trail behind me as I show them the way to my school. Steam is coming out of my ears as I glare at Celia and Charm.
I try my best to address them calmly. “Can I have my hat back?”
Charm looks at me. “Oh. Sorry.”
She tosses it back to me, and I put it on gratefully, covering all of my hair again. Celia glowers as I do this.
“Why do you hide your hair? You shouldn’t be!”
I finally explode. “Because I can’t stand it! Besides, nobody ever put you in charge!”
“Well, nobody ever said you were in charge either!”
“But I’m definitely in charge of my own wardrobe!”
“That doesn’t give you the right to hide your identity!”
“Yes it does!”
“No it doesn’t!”
As we’re exploding at each other, Charm interrupts softly, tapping both of our shoulders. We look at her.
“Carla may be in charge of her own wardrobe, but I agree with Celia. It’s a good idea to show who you are to those who need to know.”
These girls have no common sense. Looks like we’re at school now, so I have a solace, an ability to leave them here.
“Have fun as a duo, then.”
I walk away.
Edit: Chapter 4
Spoiler:
I try to get as far away from those girls as fast as I can. Heading off to first period, I get there early and sit in my usual seat. It’s not long before I get a very familiar and somewhat unwelcome voice in my head.
[Carla, just what do you think you are doing?!]
Leave me alone, voice.
[“Voice” has a name.]
I don’t care. Leave me alone.
[Those girls are your allies, not your enemies. They are the other two heroes!]
Other heroes my butt. Those girls are just all-around nuisances!
[Please, Carla,] “Maeda” says calmly, [try to get along with Celia and Charm. The fate of this world depends on it.]
Fate of the world, blah, blah, blah. If you wanted someone that could live up to your expectations like this, you should’ve picked somebody else. I’m not cut out for the job. You just made a mistake in picking a hero.
[I did not make a mistake.] Maeda’s voice sounds slow, deliberate, and menacing, almost like she’s trying to hide the fact that she’s lost her cool.
But I still don’t get why I’m such a “perfect” candidate. I’m just some random kid, literally. And she seems to be getting defensive, which means . . .
She’s doubting her decision! Yes! Then she can pick someone else more suitable for the task she’s trying to make me do!
[Carla, listen.] Her voice is back to the calm demeanor that it typically stays in. [I know for a fact I did not make a mistake. It may not be apparent to you yet, but I can tell you have a very aligned moral compass. You may be cynical and somewhat antisocial on the outside, but you have a good sense of justice and a clear, logical mind. It is for these reasons, along with many more, that I chose you rather than someone else, who is probably a blind follower of the legends we happen to star in.]
Half of the reasons Maeda chose me are for things that probably don’t exist to the extent that she says they do.
[Just try to get along with Celia and Charm, okay?]
As soon as she finishes saying that, the duo walks in and seats themselves at a table on the other side of the room. I’m sitting alone at my table, and they’re sitting alone at theirs. A quick glance at them reveals that both of them are intensely focusing on something, kind of like Celia was right before Reuha showed up. What would they even be focusing on, anyway? Maybe they’re just lost in thought and – no, wait, that doesn’t make sense. They don’t look lost, they look like they’re putting a significant amount of brainpower into whatever they’re doing. I don’t know them very well, so I don’t know what their hobbies would be. It could be a mutual hobby that happens to require a lot of focus. Maybe power meditation or something.
Another glance back uncovers the fact that they’re still very much at it, and they’ve put their hands on the sides of their heads to hold them up, but it doesn’t cover their face. Their positions and expressions make it look like they’re intensely focusing, but their eyes are staring into space, magnifying the air molecules in front of them. This little detail baffles me. Is the thing they’re focusing on entirely in their own heads? Maybe I’m right, and they are deluded.
I rummage around my bag for the business card I grabbed the other day. Luckily for me, there’s stacks of loose-leaf paper behind Celia and Charm, so I decide to deliver the card to them under the guise of grabbing some paper.
I stand up, trying to keep my chair’s movement as silent as possible. I quietly walk past their table and toss the card onto the surface. It lands in front of Charm. I then grab my piece of paper and head back to my seat.
It takes a moment for Charm to realize the card is in front of her. She reads it, and her eyes widen. She pokes Celia, whispering something to her. Celia tenses up in anger, and tries to calm herself down by breathing slowly. That’s what it seems like, anyway.
Something seems to plug itself into my mind, and somehow, Reuha’s voice enters it.
[What on earth do you think you are doing?]
I jump, startled, and almost fall out of my chair. His voice is menacing, and clearly angry. He has no intention of hiding it, that’s for sure. And he’s terrifying me much more than I’d like to admit.
[Answer me!]
[U-Uh. . . Me.]
[Don’t be a wisecrack! Answer the question!]
Somehow, I manage to keep my composure. [What do you even want, anyway?]
[Celia informed me of the situation with the card, and how you refuse to acknowledge your position or even attempt to get along with her and Charm.]
[Okay, and?]
[Try to make a - ]
I cut him off. [Administrator carla12345 has disabled the group chat.]
[What is that supposed to mean?]
[It means get out of my head. Now.]
As soon as I say that, the weird connection that I just felt snaps. Celia continues focusing for a few moments, and then her head pops up from its hunched position. She stares at me in shock.
I whisper-shout, “Why are you looking at me like that?!”
She hisses back, “You can’t just do that!”
“Do what?”
“Snap the connection like that!”
“Well, oops. I didn’t know that was something I wasn’t supposed to do!”
“It’s not that,” she says, which surprises me. “It’s the fact that you were able to snap the connection at all that astounds me. It’s actually really hard to do that!”
“Is Reuha ticked?”
“Oh, heck yeah. You got him really good this time.”
I decide to move my stuff to Celia’s table in order to hear her better and to “get along” a little bit as well.
“So basically, I screwed myself. Oh, and why can’t you or Charm do it?”
“We were never able to. Might be something to do with the fact that all three of us are chosen now.”
“I guess you’re right.”
“And yeah, you screwed yourself. Good luck, Carla.”
“But how is Reuha going to screw me?”
“You’ll see, you’ll see.”
The teacher shushes us, and the bell rings, signifying the official start of first period. I stare up at the board, as the teacher uncaps a black dry-erase marker and starts writing some equations on it. Despite the fact that I’m in Precalculus Honors, I still sometimes have trouble grasping some of the complex concepts the teacher keeps on talking about, like cotangents and radians and things of the like. Oh boy, I feel really bad for Celia and Charm. They probably didn’t even make it past eighth grade math, let alone a calculus class. If they were born as many centuries ago as I think they were, then their time didn’t even have calculus. Or precalculus. They might not have even had algebra.
But what would I know? I wasn’t born in A.D. 400 or whatever. For all I know, they could have met Pythagoras in the flesh. (Okay, probably not. But still.)
The teacher continues to teach the students handy little tricks to remember the formulas for the different types of equations, as Celia and Charm stare slack-jawed. I internally sigh. How am I supposed to teach the poor girls all of high school level math in just a few nights?
[You can’t.]
It’s Maeda.
But what am I supposed to do?
[Just give me a second. I can handle this.]
What are you going to do?
[Watch and learn.]
I stare at Celia and Charm for a second, noticing no new changes. Maeda probably didn’t do anything.
Switching my gaze back to the board, I notice the teacher included a whimsical drawing of a pie to show everyone a little trick about radians. It’s done in green, while the labels of the radians are drawn in purple. I chuckle a little. The teacher isn’t that bad of an artist at all.
Suddenly, something seems to click in the faces of Celia and Charm. They no longer look confused, but instead, they look confident and ecstatic.
What did Maeda even do?
[I simply provided them with the knowledge that you simply could not teach in one night. That is all.]
Stop acting like it’s nothing.
[But it is.]
No, it’s not. But can you tell Reuha not to screw me over?
[I don’t know about that.]
Our small conversation stops, and I return to the flowing waves of the teacher’s words. Next to me, Celia and Charm are whispering something to each other, but I don’t bother listening to what they’re saying. A thought occurs to me: this entire atmosphere is so peaceful. Almost normal. Except for the fact that some rainbow wolves have raided my life, it’s normal.
But that tiny little factor has made a world of difference so far.
I fidget with my fingers a little bit as the teacher announces a group project. Oh boy. I scan the classroom for anyone else I could work with besides Celia and Charm, but find that everyone’s already in a group. The addition of Celia and Charm to the class means that there are now twenty-four people in the class. The teacher even specifically requested groups of three. Lo and behold, I’m stuck with Celia and Charm.
The teacher begins giving the project details as I huff in annoyance. Why’d I have to get stuck with those two? I kind of wish they were given too much knowledge and would have to be moved up a class or two so they would be separated from me. But chances are, Maeda knows what she’s doing.
No hope there.
Celia seems to notice something, and annoyedly asks, “What is it now?”
I whip my head away with a huff, and don’t say anything. I can feel Celia’s glare boring into the side of my head, and Charm remains silent. Probably too afraid to do anything.
Why do I always have to be stuck doing everything with these two? I hope next time the teacher randomizes the groups so that they get separated from me. I turn my head back around to face the acquainted duo, which snaps something in Celia.
“What the heck was that for?!”
“Was what for?” I ask nonchalantly, in order to poke at her already frayed patience.
“Ignoring us like that, and then turning around like nothing happened!” she practically shouts in my face.
“I turned around so we could figure out what we’re supposed to do for the project. Not everything is about you, Celia,” I retort, annoyed.
I honestly sometimes wonder why I do half the things I do. Like sitting at their table to hear Celia better, when she’s nothing more than a manipulative jerk in disguise.
[It’s an unseen bond. As the chosen heroes, you are drawn to each other naturally. Fighting it won’t do any good.]
Great.
As we work to solve the problems shown there, I generally stay quiet. Celia and Charm, however, engage in conversation. I can’t help but overhear, and it’s probably a good idea to figure out their general interest range if I don’t want the wolves to kill me.
“So, Charm, how’s your latest painting coming along?”
“Oh! Um, I haven’t really started it yet. I’m not sure what kind of new paint brushes are good for what projects. And there are so many colors to choose from!”
“Yeah, that makes sense. The money system nowadays is confusing too. Everything is based on a strange new pricing system, and there’s so many things you can do with money. There’s ‘loans,’ which I don’t know what those are, and also ‘banks,’ which I think store money, not to mention ‘crebit cards’ and ‘debit cards’ which are little cards that carry lots of money inside them.”
Oh, boy. Wait till they hear that there are 195 countries in the world, and that each one uses their own money system. Their minds would be blown.
“I think I saw someone use a ‘crebit card’ once,” Charm explains in a soft, awed voice. “They stuck it into the opening of some machine for a few moments, and when they took it out, everything in their rolling iron basket was paid for!”
“Whoa, no way!” Celia exclaims in surprise. “They paid for an entire basketful of stuff with just a ‘crebit card?’”
“Yeah!” she answers excitedly. “I wonder if debit cards work the same way!”
A grin tugs at my face as I stifle a giggle. These two are so clueless it’s hilarious. It’s like throwing an American into the middle of South Africa and expecting them to instinctively know how the culture and language work. Oh, and throw them back in time three hundred years.
“But the silver boxes called ‘compudoors’ are like nothing I’ve ever seen before,” Celia notes earnestly. “The black thing called a ‘skeen’ lights up in a bunch of different colors to make a painting that can move. We’ll have to ask them what kinds of spells they use to make the paintings move, so that your paintings can move like that too.”
“Yeah, that would be so cool! Then I could make the coolest moving paintings! They would be better than all of the other ones!” Charm exclaims excitedly while daydreaming of all the ways she would impress everyone else with her “moving paintings.”
Beats me how they even know modern English if they’re this clueless. You’d think they’d be speaking Gaelic or something. Whatever. Maeda probably taught them or something.
Somehow they have the ability to fully multitask, since they’re talking coherently (from a grammatical perspective, nothing else about their conversation is even remotely sensible) and efficiently solving the problems at the same time. I choose to ignore this fact and continue to work on said project. Smiling, I finish the radians section of the project as one of them stands up and walks towards the teacher.
Charm’s voice floats towards me in the typical graceful dance it usually takes. “Um, sir, what kind of magic do you cast on the silver boxes to make the paintings move?”
I immediately look up, and the combination of the teacher’s priceless confusion and Charm’s clear earnesty sets me off into fits of giggles, and then full-on laughter.
“Pffffft, HAHAHA! OH MY GOSH CHARM, YOU’RE GONNA KILL ME ONE OF THESE DAYS! Oh my gosh. . .”
Confused, she asks, “What did I do wrong?”
“You’ve never even heard of electricity! You’ve literally been living under a rock. . . both of you! HAHAHAHA!”
Mortification comes over Charm as she realizes just how much she’s humiliated herself, and Celia’s face flushes when she remembers that it was her idea that prompted Charm to go up there in the first place. Meanwhile, I just laugh even harder at the fact that they were naive enough to literally ask the teacher what kind of magic spells were used to power computers, as seniors. It takes a lot of courage to say something like that, even as a joke. (I doubt they know what electricity is, even now. Good job, Maeda.)
The bell rings for second period, and I eagerly pack up my stuff and head to my next class, culinary. Finally, I can be rid of them!
As I arrive in culinary, someone says, “Nice hat,” as I sit down.
“Thanks,” I reply absentmindedly as I check the clock. Still passing period. I pull out a book I brought from home and start reading. It’s a book about a girl that lost her family to a tornado and is trying to figure out if they’re still alive, because she hasn’t seen them since that fateful day many years before. It’s actually pretty interesting. The teacher doesn’t seem to have arrived yet, which is odd, because you’d think that the teacher would be here by now if it was second period.
The bell rings, and there’s still no teacher. Not a teacher or a substitute.
This is really odd.



Confused on where to go next, Celia and Charm head down to the front office. They stop in front of the attendance office, and push open the door, slowly walking inside.
The office lady looks up, and immediately notices their hair color. “Ah! You two must be the new transfers! I’ve heard rumors that you two are the first two heroes, and that the third lurks somewhere in the school, but you know how things go. You can’t really trust rumors that much, can you?” She chuckles.
This office lady seems very talkative, Celia thinks to herself.
For a moment, neither of them say anything.
Suddenly, Charm breaks the silence, with her soft, chiming voice. “Um, we’re here to get our class schedules?”
The nurse nods. “Name and student ID, please?”
“Celia Brownsmith and Charm Windstrom. We don’t know our IDs, because we don’t know where to find them.”
The attendance woman raises an eyebrow, but searches for their names nonetheless. Sure enough, their names pop up right on screen. She pulls up their schedules, but only seven classes show up as enrolled.
“You two are all clear for your classes, but you need to pick electives. Considering your transfer was quite sudden, I can help you out.”
“We’d like that,” Celia replies, on behalf of herself and Charm.
The woman opens up one of her desk drawers and flips through some pages until she finds what she’s looking for. She pulls out the sheet, and as the duo decides, she helpfully explains which classes are for what purpose, like a dictionary for all of the possible options.
Celia decides to take culinary, “in an effort to figure out how to successfully live on my own,” is how she put it.
Charm, however, chooses to make painting her elective, in order to sharpen her craft. “Maybe they can teach me how to make moving paintings too,” she mused as she made her choice.
They hope that at least one of them will share another class with Carla, in order to possibly get to know her better. They thank the office lady as she prints their freshly minted schedules and writes them passes.
The duo then checks said schedules. Charm has English; meanwhile, Celia must go straight to culinary.
As Celia aimlessly wanders the halls, making no real attempt to finding culinary, she hopes that Charm will get her elective with Carla, because she doesn’t rub right with Carla due to a personality clash.
[Don’t think like that, Celia. Hope is not lost yet.]
Celia jumps a little, but then relaxes. Despite being bonded to Reuha for so long, she still jumps when his voice enters her train of thought sometimes.
She sends him the mental equivalent of a nod, and eventually finds culinary. Carrying her pass that the office lady gave her, she pushes the door open.
Only to find the teacher gone and Carla sitting directly next to the door.
Oh boy, Celia thinks to herself. This is gonna be a real adventure.



William Cook sighs in frustration at the traffic backup. All he had meant to do was take a quick run to the store and grab some supplies during his planning period. But the backup has caused him to be running ten minutes late for his senior culinary class. The fact that he has the supplies is useless if they are just going to be stuck backed up in traffic.
It takes a minute for him to realize, but the traffic has completely stopped moving. Curious, he rolls down his car window and sticks his head out with the intention of getting a potential better glimpse at the situation. As soon as he sees the truth, he inhales sharply.
A small flash of some sort of red limb slams on the ground, and huge, jagged, earthy pillars come pushing through the ground, racing each other to reach an undefined top. Blocking the entire road, the pillars stand thirty yards tall, sticking out among the flatter valley they jut out from. It wouldn’t take a genius to figure out what just happened.
The small section of road he happened to be in just got visited by Reuha.
When he was younger, William would not only study the art of the chef, but he would also vigorously pore over the legends and folklore of Mountain Point. They were more than just myths to him. They were the stories that shaped his worldview.
The stories proven as truth right before his eyes.
He had analyzed these legends so much that he had the ability to tell you anything about them. He was a hardcore believer.
Some of that spark faded as he grew older, but it still remains to an extent, as well as the knowledge he accumulated.
Since no one can remove their cars from this frozen traffic, he steps out of the car and gracefully maneuvers his way through the labyrinth of practically parked vehicles. Part of him hoped to see Reuha, maybe even talk to him. All he knows is that he would be so honored to do so.
He pulls out his phone and takes a photo of the jagged structure before him, and sends the picture to the principal of the school along with an explanation as to why he missed being able to teach second period.
Slipping his phone back into his pocket, he starts walking around the structure, investigating and observing its presence. A tow truck comes to take everyone’s car back to their homes, but Cook doesn’t pay attention. He’s simply too in awe at the huge spikes that were pushed from the ground in a matter of seconds.
After a while, he looks back to find that his car is the only one remaining on the road, a loner on a plain of graying asphalt. Dialing up the principal, he apologies for being unable to make it to second period because of a traffic backup. The principal tells him it’s okay, and he understands. He also says that Cook can take the day off if he likes, to investigate the source of the jagged rock and possibly bring evidence back. (The principal knows about William’s old obsession with the legends, and has that same spark himself. Being the principal, he’s unable to do the investigations that Cook has to opportunity to undertake.)
Secretly excited, William calmly thanks the principal and hangs up. Leaving his car in the middle of the now-deserted street, he tests his footholds and begins attempting to climb the jutting surfaces of the rock, to reach the ninety-foot heavens above.
The street itself is merely that - a street, now destroyed by the spikes he currently climbs. No buildings stand wading at the edges, only a few feet of grass, before it slopes up into the woodsy mountain waves. What was once a backstreet soon became quite used, but the jagged rock changes all of that. The road that once joined Mountain Point has been blocked off, splitting the town in two.
The only footholds Cook finds are fragile, and they break off and fall to the ground the moment he puts any weight on them. Giving up, he settles for studying the manner in which the protrusions came to be.
Soon, a sense of excitement builds in him as he realizes his isolation. What if he gets to meet Reuha?



“What was that?”
The sound of something jutting from the ground still echoes in our minds, and it almost distracts me from the fact that Celia is now stuck in my culinary class. Celia looks me straight in the eye, knowing exactly what caused that sudden shake.
With a courageous, determined glint in her eye, she tells me, “Come on, Carla. Let’s go.”
I grab my backpack and sling it over my shoulder, following Celia as she runs out the door. I struggle to catch up to her smooth, brisk strides as she heads out the nearest door of the high school, not even bothering to find Charm. She slips through alleys and hikes through forests as I tag behind, somehow not getting tired.
Soon, we come to an often-used backroad that is completely empty for some unknown reason. We follow the winding paths of the road, until we come to a tall, jagged group of spikes protruding from the road, blocking it off completely. Their earthy brown color seems a bit off to me, but I don’t say anything about it.
Footsteps echo on the other side of the spikes, and we both freeze. The figure producing them doesn’t seem to notice us, and continues merely investigating the spikes. The figure is a young man, with combed-back brown hair, a white shirt, blue jeans, and Adidas shoes.
Why does he look familiar . . . ?
Wait a minute.
That’s Mr. Cook, the culinary teacher!
“Mr. Cook,” I ask, surprised, “what are you doing here?”
He looks at me. “I should be asking you the same question as well. Who is your redhead friend?”
“This is Celia,” I tell him. “I don’t know why she brought me here, but she did.”
“Is she a friend of yours?” he asks, sounding genuinely curious.
I grimace. “. . . Sort of. But not really.”
“Carla, the culinary teacher’s a nut.”
I notice she didn’t call him my culinary teacher. “Did you pick culinary?” I ask her, annoyed.
“Yeah, why?”
“Congratulations, you’re stuck with this nut. And me too.” I sigh.
“But Mr. Cook,” Celia asks, “what are you doing here?”
He sighs. “I was stuck in traffic,” he explains. “It was so jammed that it came to a complete stop. I couldn’t see why, until I tried to look and saw a red. . . something hit the ground. Then this rock formation came to be right before my eyes, just pushing itself out of the ground.
“If my assumption is correct,” he concludes, “then I was one of the few graced with the honor of setting their eyes on Reuha.”
Celia nods, agreeing with everything Mr. Cook is saying. To me, it’s a bunch of nonsense, but really, what other explanation is there?
Mr. Cook goes on about this sighting being some sort of sign, until I stop him by asking, “Why aren’t you back at school yet?”
“I was given the day off when I told the principal about my plight,” he answers, before going on about the sign gibberish again.
I take a few steps toward the spiky landform, and notice crumbling bits of rock on the ground. Had Mr. Cook tried to climb this thing? And why would he in the first place?
These questions cause my reckless streak to kick in. I search for a handhold and a foothold, and start trying to climb this thing myself. Celia notices, and calls me out on it.
“Carla, are you crazy?! Get down from there right now! You’re gonna ruin your dress and your shoes!”
I’m about a quarter way up when a chunk of rock about the size of my two fists cracks and dislodges itself from its position as my foothold. I scream in surprise, and hold on to my handholds for dear life. The rock seems to have taken a deep chunk out of the spike, and oddly enough, the end of the rock isn’t a sharp-looking spike. Rather, it’s a generally flat surface.
I wedge my foot into the hole I just created to find that my toes are going through thin air. Confused, I try to figure out a way down, but I soon realize I’m stuck.
I broke all of my footholds on the way up.
How did I not fall?
Like an animal who willingly walked into the slaughterhouse, I look back at Celia and Mr. Cook. They seem to realize I’m stuck, and rush to the base of the spike I’m on.
“Guys,” I say hesitantly, “I think this thing’s hollow.”
As soon as I say that, my other foothold breaks. I’ve really lost my mind, haven’t I?
The rock that broke off falls to the ground and lands next to Celia. It doesn’t take off as much rock as my first foothold, so I’m stuck leaving one foot dangling.
In a preparation to potentially have to fall off the rock, I attempt to dislodge my non-dangling foot from the crevice it’s in. As I do so, I figure I should shout down a warning to Celia and Mr. Cook.
“If I fall, catch me, okay?”
They nod, and I manage to free my foot, leaving my weight to be distributed on my handholds. My flat seems real scratched now; what a shame. I guess I did it to myself.
What I don’t expect to happen is for cracks to start forming along the sides, as my body dangles from the handholds, and lays on the side of the spike. They soon make their way up and down, getting longer than my entire outstretched body.
Suddenly, the cracks make a right angle turn and seal themselves in an oddly perfect rectangle. Confused, I hang there as the rectangle doesn’t move. But when more cracks start forming and rocks start pushing themselves out from the rectangle border, I know I’m done for.
So this is Reuha’s way of screwing me over.
The rectangular section of rock that I’m currently hanging off of starts caving into the hollow spike, and it tilts forward, hitting the other side. The force of it causes the rectangular rock section to crack, and it splits in two before I can do anything about it.
I scream in surprise as I begin to fall. It’s a good fifteen to twenty foot drop, so I’m probably not going to hit the ground without breaking something.
Said drop comes faster than I’d like it to, and somehow I land on my feet. Naturally, it’s not painless, and I probably ended up bruising my heels or something. It doesn’t help that I’m wearing flats, either.
My reckless streak wears off a little bit, and I try to recover, surveying the damage I did to myself. Adjusting my hat to make sure all of my detestable hair is hidden, I check the rectangular hole to make sure I can get out later. Not long after doing so, a very familiar voice enters my head.
[Welcome, Carla. I’m glad you could make it.]
Uh oh. Looks like a certain red wolf is going to dish out punishment.
character limit is only letting me post two chapters at a time, and chapter 4 is still in the works, so enjoy until then! :3 I'll try to update when I can and when I can remember!
Last edited by kittycathead on Fri Nov 01, 2019 6:55 am, edited 1 time in total.

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J.K. Riki
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Re: the story I'm writing so far

Postby J.K. Riki » Thu Sep 05, 2019 6:58 am

Cool! Just stopping by the forum before work, so I will try to read the chapters later, but just wanted to chime in and encourage you to keep going. :)


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