Eximius Grygla

Discussion in 'Archive' started by Earphone, Feb 4, 2013.

  1. Earphone

    Earphone Active Member

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    Ina Holt

    "Yeah, you can, chica", The man said, sounding annoyed, "Are you homeless or somethin'? I saw you behind those Dumpsters. Were you lookin' for food? 'cause they have places for that, you know."

    Ina opened her mouth to answer, but was distracted by a small blue-ish... thing, that appeared by the man and bounced a bird dropping away from him.

    "Well, are you gonna answer me?", The man grumbled.

    "Nooo." Ina said slowly, raising an eyebrow. She had hoped that she had been the only person to have an ability. This was certainly the first person she'd come across who'd shown any signs of having one. He didn't even seem to care that he'd just used it in public. She tried to pull her thoughts from the ability, to think of an answer to the man's question. "I was looking for..." A carving tool? She didn't really have an adequate answer. Time to change the subject.

    "What was that thing just now?" She asked, "Who are you, anyway?"
     
  2. Erik-the-Enchanter!

    Erik-the-Enchanter! Banned Contributor

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    Liriope

    "What was that thing just now?" She asked, "Who are you, anyway?"

    One moment the girl was stammering for an answer, the next she was interogating me. She's gotta be a smart girl to have noticed me use my power, he thought grudgingly.

    "Hey, that was just a...a trick, you know, like Las Vegas stuff," Liriope said with a dismissive shrug. "Ya know, some people have extra talents, not all people are the same, geez." Uh-oh, I'm going off topic a bit. "Eh hem, forget I said all that... Anyways, I'm Liriope, ex-bass guitarist for Stray Cats From Hell." As if she knew what that was. "So, now its your turn--whats your name, girlie?" He sat on a wrought iron bench and patted the seat next to him, indicating the street girl to join him.
     
  3. Earphone

    Earphone Active Member

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    Ina Holt

    "Hey, that was just a...a trick, you know, like Las Vegas stuff, Ya know, some people have extra talents, not all people are the same, geez... Eh hem, forget I said all that... Anyways, I'm Liriope, ex-bass guitarist for Stray Cats From Hell. So, now its your turn--whats your name, girlie?" Liriope sat on a bench, and patted for her to join.

    Ina chuckled at the comical man, and took a seat. Despite his irritable demeanor, he seemed like an alright guy. Ina felt like she could trust him, because he was a bit like her. Different. She usually looked down on people because of her power, but Liriope seemed to be on the same plane as her.

    "I'm Ina." She said, stretching her arms in the air, "I'm not buying your Vegas crap, by the way. You can tell me about it. I have one too."
     
  4. Erik-the-Enchanter!

    Erik-the-Enchanter! Banned Contributor

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    Liriope

    "I'm Ina." She said, stretching her arms in the air, "I'm not buying your Vegas crap, by the way. You can tell me about it. I have one too."

    Liriope froze like a statue, his dark eyes locked on the girl. Was she for real? Liriope had never met another Exceptional like him, except for his Aunt Nixes who died when he was thirteen. Nixes had a very similar power to his and she made him feel special and not alone--and she was the first person Liriope "came out" to. Her dying words were, "If you can help someone with powers the way I helped you, then its your moral obligation to do it--got that shortie?" Liriope finally spoke.

    "You got powers, too, eh?" His voice was gruff, but much softer than before. "Well, you're right, I do have special talents. I guess we're the same, kind of." Liriope gave her a devilishly handsome smile. "So, I should probably get going...I'm a very busy dude...but if you meet me by that wood carving store tomorrow 'round noon, I'll get you some icecream, 'kay?" He winked and stood up to leave, but found himself lingering for some reason. Should he make sure the girl really wasn't homeless? He stood awkwardly and waited for her to say something.
     
  5. Earphone

    Earphone Active Member

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    Ina Holt

    "Well, you're right, I do have special talents. I guess we're the same, kind of." Liriope grinned. "So, I should probably get going...I'm a very busy dude...but if you meet me by that wood carving store tomorrow 'round noon, I'll get you some icecream, 'kay?" He stood up to go, but hovered for a moment.

    Ina stood up as well, and smirked. "You can't be that busy, if you had time to follow me around." She laughed, "I need to get home anyway. My dad will be wondering where I am. Ice cream though, not a huge fan to be honest. Well, see ya later."

    Her smile faded as she started to walk away. This was the first person like her she'd ever met. She might not get another chance. "U-unless it's Rocky Road." She called back, "So, yeah." So, yeah. She thought mockingly. Real smart.

    It wasn't a long walk back to her house; her family lived just outside the bustling town center, in an old run-down house that looked like a moldy shack. It wasn't pretty to the eye, but that was because her parents were too lazy to keep it tidy. The insides of the house were a lot nicer; leather couches, HD tv, nice paintings, and even fancy rugs. Her parents liked to buy lavish (clearance) furniture to give themselves delusions of grandeur, when they weren't drunk off their asses. Ina checked the mailbox on her way in, then eased the door open, slid in , and silently closed it again. She peered around the doorway to the living room, then stopped being stealthy. Her dad was passed out in front of the tv, which was on mute.

    "What's in the news?" She asked sarcastically to her dad, as she flipped through the mail. There was a letter addressed to her, in an untidy scrawl. Pulling it out, she tossed the rest of the mail onto her heavily breathing father, then plopped down in a chair, examining the envelop. There wasn't a return address to be seen. It wasn't very often that Ina got mail; in fact, the last letter she remembered getting had been for her tenth birthday. She looked at the penned address. Doesn't look like Grammy's handwriting. Tearing open the envelop, she turned it over. A small photo, and a sheet of notepaper fell into her lap. The photo was of an old building with a broken sign reading "Berkle-" The rest was missing. Frowning, Ina unfolded the notepaper. It was blank.

    "What?" Ina muttered under her breath, standing up, and moving to peer out the window. She wondered who could have delivered such a strange thing. She made to throw away the paper and photograph, but something stayed her hand. A chill ran down her spine, and she put the paper and photograph back into the envelop. She made her way into her room, and dropped the envelop onto the foot of her bed. Something was off about that letter, it gave her an odd feeling. Not unlike the feeling she'd had when seeing Liriope using his ability. Maybe he might know something about it.
     
  6. Kingtype

    Kingtype Banned Contributor

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    Brian licked his lips as he watched Gabriel walk away. He decided not to get involved with him. He made a point of avoiding human contact as much as possible. He decided to huff it back to the motel he was staying in. Once he got in he went over to his mail box. He never got any mail but checking it was sort of a habit. He had always been hopeful to find a letter that read the last two years had been nightmare.......and then he would wake up. But unfortunately this was reality. But he did find a letter in his mail box. He never got mail.....heck he didn't even have any friends to send him mail. He opened it up and it read Berkle-"

    This was freaky was this one of Wolfgang's victims out for revenge?, maybe just a wrongly mailed letter? or maybe someone knew about his powers? So many things it could be but Brian didn't really want think about it. But he sort of got curious. What was up with the photo of the building? It might be some sort of set up to bust him. Good! Brian wanted to get arrested but Wolfgang always stopped in....so with that he left looking for this building thinking it was a set up from the police. Soon he'd be behind the bars and one less nutcase would be off the street. It would be even better if it was a prison that held Exceptionals.......hey you never know what the CIA and them guys might be doing. Brian tended to have an over active imagination when he wasn't in a depressed mood. It was sort of his way of coping with his life. Yes you have to be pretty depressed to have glorious fantasies about being arrested or killed.
     
  7. AnonyMouse

    AnonyMouse Contributor Contributor

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    Evangeline Albrite

    The silver Audi S6 slowed as it passed through the town center. Evangeline’s piercing blue eyes studied the streets, searching for even one open parking space, but found none. Grygla just wasn’t built for such an influx of visitors. There weren’t many people, but it didn’t take much to fill the town to capacity. Why are they even here? There's nothing to see in Grygla, she thought as she passed the coffee shop, which was just as packed as every other store.

    Eva turned and headed down a side street. Even the inn’s large lot was full. The only parking she could find was at Bill’s Fixer, but she didn’t want to do that. He needed those spaces to work on cars. Eva lingered on the street for a moment, with her engine running, considering it…

    Bill and Ted seemed to have their hands full. Shyla and her uncle were standing by with her dirtbike, while another man with a motorcycle spoke with the mechanics. Eva made up her mind and pulled into the lot, next to an old, but very well-kept black Mustang. It might be a classic to some, but to her it was just a dinosaur that had been given far more attention than it was worth. Where were the turbochargers, the electronic fuel injection, and computer-assisted all wheel drive? All that old iron, but no brains under the hood. It was so… outdated.

    Eva stepped out of her Audi and passed the old muscle car on her way to the small gathering of people. So as not to be rude, she waited for a pause in their conversation before speaking. “Excuse me,” Eva said with a smile. “I’m sorry to intrude, Bill, but would you mind if I parked here for a few minutes, while I make a run to the coffee shop?”

    She hoped he’d be okay with it. They were friends, right? Well, sort of. He’d changed her oil two or three times… in about a dozen years. That had to be worth something, right? It wasn’t her fault the town was so small it took a million years to rack up a couple thousand miles. He'd also taught her how to put chains on her car tires, back when she experienced her first Minnesota winter.

    Wow, that was a long time ago, Eva thought, suddenly feeling a little nostalgic. She could still remember when Bill's sign had all its letters.
     
  8. Keitsumah

    Keitsumah The Dream-Walker Contributor

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    Gabriel Reeve

    Gabe made it back to the apartment complex with nothing else to disturb him, and sighed in releif as the door to his home closed behind him. Maybe he sould just forget about all of the earlier excitement and take a shower, but seeing that orange-haired man had shaken him pretty badly. He knew that -compared to the other guy- he could easilly win in a match of physical strength, but that wasn't what he had been worried about. He had been worried he would lose control again. That another "incident" would happen.

    Dropping the newspaper on the table -it's headline stating in bold letters Man Commits Suicide in City Bank. Gabe swallowed as he looked at it, remembering what had happened:

    "Nobody move! Try to call the police and I'll shoot!" a man yelled, gunfire suddenly erupting in the middle of the building. Lights exploded and people screamed in terror as they all dropped to the ground, some ocvering their heads and others trying to scramble under or behind tables. Gabe was left as the only one standing in all the chaos as a tall, wiry fellow pointed a handgun at him, wild eyes glaring at him for his lack of fear.

    "Get down before I decide to shoot you now!" he yelled, but Gabriel only blinked slowly, his blue eyes flashing gold for the briefest of moments before the bank robber suddenly turned pale. Just as slowly, as if it was a movie in slow motion, the guy turned the gun to his own head.

    Then he pulled the trigger and blood spattered the marble floor as his body collapsed.


    Gabriel shivered, grabbing the newspaper to throw it away when an envelope slid onto the table.

    Now how did that get there? he thought as he opened it to find a blank scrap of notepaper and a picture of a building. Brows meeting in confusion, he looked the letter over but found it unmarked. Darn -he could have tracked it to its source fairly easilly had it had a return adress- but apparently someone had known to hand-deliver to it to him. But why?

    Gabriel felt an odd prickle run up his spine. What if they know about my abilities?
     
  9. SocksFox

    SocksFox Contributor Contributor Contest Winner 2023

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    Camille: Day in the Neighborhood

    Several lawn sprinklers suddenly went on drenching clean sheets on a nearby clothes line as Camille passed by. Modern day desperate housewives, like a flock of tottyheaded hens came fluttering out, clucking in distress. "Look what you've done you...you freak" Their leader and former queen bee, Bandi Preweitt screamed.

    "Me?" Camille said, startled out of her brown study. "What did I do?"

    "You ruined my sheets!" She shrieked again bearing down on Camille like a tank. Roughly she shoved Camille, who went sprawling onto the sidewalk, her knees stinging painfully. "Do you have any idea how much those cost? Hand wash in filtered water only, Egyptian cotton sheets..."

    "They're sheets, Bandi. I'm sure they'll dry or Ralph will by you another set." She replied in an even tone as she carefully got to her feet, blood streaming from her knees.

    "No!" Bandi continued to scream. "I don't want a new set. I want the ones you ruined."

    "Um, stupid question." Camille said, raising a slender finger to garner Bandi's flaky attention. "But how did I ruin your sheets standing all the way over here on the sidewalk?"

    "All you have to do is pass by and a wave of weird goes with you." Bandi spat by way of an answer.

    Camille just looked up at her from her meager height. "You really are dumb enough to believe that, aren't you Bandi?" Pity rang out loud and clear in the words.

    "Dumb!" She shrieked, the meaning slowly seeping through her bleached blonde helmet of hair. "You're calling me stupid!"

    "Maybe." Camille replied, an icily polite smile pasted on her gamine little face. "I suggest you apologize for the freak comment, Bandi."

    "Or you'll do what, you redheaded runt? Bleed all over me?" The taller woman sniped, noticing Camille's bloodied knees.

    Camille's smile was bleak, as she swallowed back tears of pain and frustration. "No, but as you so thoughtfully pointed out, I have my wave of weird. I'll think of something."

    Abruptly as they had sprung to life, the sprinklers suddenly turned off as Camille retrieved her bag and miraculously unharmed smoothie from the nearby grass. Radish, who had been strangely absent since Camille's fall came bounding back up the sidewalk, his plumed tail high and a ridiculously please look on his face. The bicycle cop, Ben Hanson, petaling right behind.

    "Is there a problem here, ladies?" He asked, setting the kickstand on his bike.

    "No." Camille said, just as Bandi intoned. "Yes!"

    Fixing Camille with a steely blue gaze Ben asked. "Would you care to explain, Camille?"

    She shrugged, thoroughly wearied by the entire scene. "Bandi thinks I set off her sprinklers in an effort to ruin her sheets."

    Office Ben snickered. "Really? Just how was that supposed to work?"

    "I still haven't figure that part out, yet." Camille replied, a smile in her tone.

    Ben noticed her sudden wince as Radish sniffed at her badly scrapped knees. "What happened? Did you trip?"

    "Let's just attribute it to a bit of neighborly affection." She said as she gathered up Radish's trailing leash. "I need to get this taken care of, Ben. Find me at the Hammer if you have further questions."

    Patience tried beyond endurance, Camille knew she was at her limit. She hobbled back to the Grammar Hammer as quickly as possible. Shoving the key in the lock, she pushed open the door and heard paper rustle beneath her foot. A couple of blood drops plopped onto the ubiquitous white envelope. There was no postmark or stamp. She didn't recognize the handwriting.

    Circling the counter, she reached for a letter opener and slit the envelope open. A blank sheet of note paper and an old photo tumbled out on the varnished countertop. A broken sign in the picture read "Berkle-". Shoving the note and photo into a convenient drawer, Camille fled up the stairs to her apartment, leaving the store in Radish's care.
     
  10. Exzalia

    Exzalia Banned Contributor

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    Sheena Ven

    "A letter? now who would want to write to me?" Sheena pulled out the letter wiping strings of unkept hair from her face. No return address, no name. Just a picture of a building.

    "I'm not going." she muttered tossing the card into the trash and crawling back under the covers, it didn't matter to her that it was 1 pm, all she did now a days was sleep. eat, and on occasion sob.

    two hours past and her day got as eventful as a sloths, sitting down starring at a bowl of cereal in front her. a meal she had lost interest in eating.

    "Man isn't meant to be alone, well what about woman?" She mumbled. For a moment she wondered about going outside but pushed the thought out of her mind, she couldn't risk being around people.

    "Perhaps it would be better if I just." Something inside her resisted her idea. her brow furrowed as she contemplated it, "I mean, it's not like anyone would miss me."

    She continued to ponder, leaning towards the idea.
     
  11. Love to Write

    Love to Write I'm a lover of writing. What else is to be said? Contributor

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    Shyla Anderson

    The ring of a cell-phone drew Shyla's attention away from the growing crowd in front of Bill and Teddy's store. She pulled the phone out of her pocket and held it up to hear, plugging the other ear in order to hear better.
    "Hello?.....oh hi, dad....yeah, Uncle Walter took me. Did you see the race?....." Shyla's face saddened as she listened to her dad's voice on the other end of the line. "Oh, that's ok. I'll tell you all about it when I get home. We stopped at Bill and Teddy's to drop of my bike for maintenance.......uh huh.....yeah, I'll be home soon. Bye."
    Shyla caught her Uncle's look of curiosity. "He was just wondering when I was getting home. Mom's still at the hospital and he has a meeting with his writing buddies tonight...so that means I'm on my own for tonight." She forced a smile. Again.
    Shyla double-checked that her bike was in the shop and turned back towards the truck, waving goodbye to Bill and Teddy.

    ----------------------------

    Shyla came out of her room freshly showered, and dressed in a loose purple shirt and jeans. She went to the mail-box and came back with a several letters. Many of them having to do with her motorcrossing. One letter in particular caught her attention. Her name was scrawled on the front as if the person had been in a hurry. No return address, strange. Inside was a photo of an old building with a broken sign reading "Berkle-", and a folded sheet of lined notebook paper.
    What in the world? Whats this supposed to be?
    Shyla was about to throw it away when her dad's dog came bounding up, and started licking her. She laughed and set the letter on the counter, almost immediatly forgetting about it. The dog was a chocolate lab and was as hyper as they come. "C'mon, Frodo. Let's go for a walk."
     
  12. Keitsumah

    Keitsumah The Dream-Walker Contributor

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    Gabriel Reeve

    Gabreil left the building after having taken a shower to calm himself, dressed in jeans and a turtleneck. His dark brown hair clung in black locks, still wet, down to his nape, and he pcketed his hands as he walked aimlessly along the sidewalk until eh heard two men conversing:

    " . . .i swear, she's a freak . . . ever heard about that guy that died?" one said, and Gabriel's interest was instantly piked. Edging closer, he listened as the other responded:

    "Yeah -Eddie says she lives down Main street, the little building on the right. Rarely ever seen outside -mostly just looking out the window if anything."

    Odd -why would someone want to stay inside all the time? Gabe thought, crossing the street and finding himself heading in the direction of the house the man had been speaking of. Checking his watch, he found it was around One thirty now. Well, maybe he could ask her some questions.

    What am I thinking? I should be avoiding this kind of stuff! he reprimanded hismelf, but his feet kept moving. Something was pulling him towards the house, and he couldn't resist it.
     
  13. Exzalia

    Exzalia Banned Contributor

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    "It would be so easy, so easy. Why is it so easy to take life? and so hard to make it flourish?" Sheena caressed a belt in her hands trembling a little. "I could just, tie it right there, no one would know, I could just leave disappearing into the flow of time. The world won't miss one more dead widow."

    Despite her words there was a fierce resistance with in her, a battle raged as something inside her disparately looked for reasons to keep going.

    "If it's so easy, why I'm I finding it so hard to do it? What reason do I have to cling to my miserable existence. No, I'm ending this, I won't even leave a note."

    Rummaging through the closet she found a chair some candles and old photo of her husband and there first child. She stared at it for a moment though no feelings of fondness crossed her mind.

    Then she tied the belt.
     
  14. JessWrite

    JessWrite Word Nerd & Proud! Contributor

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    Baley Warsaw

    Maybe I can convince Pa to get a vehicle. Baley thought as she passed by cars parked bumper to bumper like a dozen eggs in a carton. As she passed more shops and town-folk, again she got lost in her daydreams to keep her mind off the heaviness in her hands.

    Finally, she arrived at the rich apartment complexes. It was a wonder a few residents still preferred Happy Hooves to their competitors in the fancy convenient stores.

    As Baley dropped off the milk, she ignored the insults on her well-being and the women’s scrunched noses at the stench of a farm girl.

    “I thank ya kindly for your concern. Have a fine day!” Baley waved with a grin. They would be surprised to know she bathed every morning right before she went out to the field. She wasn't like the rich folk who stared at their moving picture boxes or flew their fingers over little letters all day long.

    Baley retraced her steps through town and back to the tractor where Chuck was ready to go.

    “Ya had a good time I take it,” she said as she climbed onto the seat.

    “That’s none of your beeswax. So how much?” he asked, pointing at the knapsack.

    “Enough for a haircut, the rich ladies told me,” Baley replied. Her laughter filtered through the warm air as they continued on toward home.

    Upon arriving at their gate, she made her brother stop the tractor for her to get the mail. At least snail mail hadn’t yet gone out of style on planet earth.

    She flipped open the rusty mailbox and grabbed up the clutter of letters. Standing there on the path, her curiosity had no patience and she shuffled through the stack. Maybe one was from Fran, her friend back home in Iowa.

    As she turned over one letter in her gloved hand, she stopped. It was for her, but she frowned as she saw her full name scrawled on the envelope. Never would she be able to get rid of it. Studying the white envelope closer, she knew the handwriting couldn't be Fran's, plus there was no return address. Strange. Baley tucked the rest of the mail in her knapsack before carefully opening her letter, making sure the contact with the paper didn’t cause any damage to her glove.

    The anticipation of mail got her excited, but as she pulled out the contents, she was more than disappointed. Just a photo of an old building with a broken sign reading "Berkle-", and a folded sheet of lined notebook paper was there. What was with the building? It couldn’t be a customer's place. Nope, the letter hadn't been addressed to Happy Hooves, only to her.

    A loud honk pulled her from her thoughts and she about jumped out of her skin. Looking up, she saw the tractor was halfway down the path.

    “Hey, that’s not fair!” Baley yelled as she took off running through the mud after her brother. She had taken special care to place the letter in her knapsack's front pocket.
     
  15. Keitsumah

    Keitsumah The Dream-Walker Contributor

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    Ignore
     
  16. Exzalia

    Exzalia Banned Contributor

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    Shyla was walking along the street, past row after row of houses. It was a nice neighborhood except for the strange punk looking kid walking down the sidewalk on the other side of the street, and the rundown house at the end of the block. Everyone said that some mad lady lived there. Some of the kids teased she was a vampire and could only come out at night. She began to turn before reaching the end of the block. Shyla didn't believe in stories like that but there was no need to venture any closer. Besides, she didn't want to accidently run into the punk-guy.

    Suddenly Frodo tore his leash out of Shyla's hands running towards the house. He jumped onto the porch of the crazy lady's house, barking wildly and stratching at the door. "Damn you dog!" Shyla muttered angerly running after him. She bent down and grabbed his leash preparing to sprint away. But when she stood, she instinctivly looked in the window. She gasped at what she saw and dropped Frodo's leash. There was a woman in side, hanging from the ceiling by a belt. She was still swinging. Maybe there was time to save her.

    Shyla looked around. That punk kid was still headed this way. She couldn't risk using her abilities in front of him. So instead she grabbed a rock and broke open the window. She had to get to the lady before the kid saw her. The house stank, and was filled with garbage. Who could live in such a dump. Shyla sprinted through the junk and grabbed the woman around the waist. Suddenly a flash of light filled the room and woman was on the floor, Shyla still holding onto her waist. She pushed herself up to a kneeling position and stripped the belt off the woman before checking for a breath. Her watch beeped twice before silence filled the room again.

    Sheena's breathing was shallow, for a moment it looked as if she were gone. 30 agonizing seconds past and then suddenly she reached out and stroked Shyla's face. "Denis is that you? you're alive? but I thought?"

    Shyla grimaced as the woman touched her face. She moved back and stood up. "Sorry lady, I'm not Denis. Name's Shyla." She reached into her pocket, pulled out her cellphone and began dialing 911. This lady needed help...the mental kind.

    Sheena layed there for a moment, slowly her mind began to clear. so close to death for a moment she honestly belived it was her husband holding her. When the blood finall flowed back to her head her senses came back to her she sprang to her feet and knocked the phone out of the girls hands. then crushed it. An awkward moment later she whirled around and demanded.

    "Did I cut you? any where even just a little scratch?" She sounded panicked. Seeing the confused look in Shyla's eyes Sheena relaxed a bit, she seemed unharmed. "Good, now, get off my property." It was a command, but one that sounded tired and ragged.

    Shyla's mouth dropped open as her phone was decimated. She had all her contacts in there...pictures, numbers, text messages from Danny...important dates...everything! "I just saved your life...and you destroyed my phone!! Do you know how much I had in there!? There were dates...important dates I needed to remember! Contacts! Pictures! What if the race company calls me!? Half my life was in there! Jerk!" She yelled. Frodo came bounding in through the window, hearing Shyla's distress. She grabbed Frodo's leash, wrenched open the door and stormed out.
    Sheena let out a tired sigh, "I never asked you to save me." she whispered, then walked back to the couch and sat down her hands on her face, staring at the smashed cell phone. She looked back at the belt hanging on the ceiling and sighed.
    Gabreil made it across the street and saw a woman breakign into a window just a few yards away. "hey! What are you doing!?" he shouted, and sprinted after her just as she dissapeared inside. Crashing through the door he paused as he saw the woman and another who was on the ground, and his eyes widened.

    "Uhh . . . Mind tellign me what's going on?" he asked.

    Sheena tucked her legs in and hung her head. "Nothing." She responded solemly. Thought the belt hanging on the ceiling, and the smashed phone and her quivering voice made it obvious it was far from nothing.

    "Just, leave me alone."
     
  17. SocksFox

    SocksFox Contributor Contributor Contest Winner 2023

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    Camille: Blood Trail

    The bell above the door of the Grammar Hammer tinkled, an obnoxiously bright sound in an otherwise grim situation. Radish barked, the sound shrill and worried. His claws clicked futility at the polished wood leading to the upstairs apartment.

    "Cam?" A voice called out. "You here?" No reply. Boots echoed on the spiraling wrought iron steps. "Cam, answer me. Its Ben. I need to talk to you."

    Radish continued to pace in front of the closed door, his nose pressed against the crack between the bottom of the door and the floor. Seeing Ben coming up from behind, the frantic spitz sat down and howled.

    "Dammit!" Ben swore, shoving his shoulder against the heavy oak door. "Camille! Where are you?" Deafening silence reigned as Radish bolted passed his legs, beelining for the bathroom. A spattered crimson trail stood out in gory detail against the polished pine floorboards.

    Pushing open the door, he found Camille propped up against the claw foot bathtub, the floor was littered with several large bath towels all liberally soaked with blood. "It won't stop..." She whispered as her head lolled on the rim.

    Ben pulled away the towel covering her torn knees, blood gushed toward freedom. Replacing the towel, he applied pressure and pulled out his phone. "Dammit Camille, don't you dare die on me. Talk to me. Come on!"

    The line rang through to dispatch. "Hey, Ben," Martha's bright voice sang in his ear. "What can I do for you?"

    "I need an ambulance at the Grammar Hammer. Now! Martha. Camille Perrie had an accident. There's blood everywhere." He ground out, blind panic gripped his throat as he reached for her wrist to check her pulse. A medical I.D. bracelet caught his attention. Hemophilia.

    "It's on its way, Ben." Martha chirped. "You know the drill, keep pressure on it, keep her talking."

    "She's already unconscious. A medical I.D. tag says she has hemophilia." Ben said in an effort to keep his focus. "That's that bleeding disorder, right?"

    "Right." Martha confirmed, as Ben heard sirens sounding in the distance. "Something the paramedics will need to know. How's the bleeding?"

    "Bad." Ben snapped.

    Three endless minutes passed. "Where are they?"

    Boots clattered on the steps as a voice called out. "Right behind you, Hanson. Now move over and let me take a look."

    Reluctantly the bike cop slid aside as the medic went to work, tossing aside the towel and pressing thick gauze pads to Camille's bleeding knees. "Do you know what happened?" He asked as he bound up Camille's knobby knees.

    "According to neighbors Bandi Prewitt shoved Camille, causing her to fall. She has hemophilia. Why didn't she tell me?" Ben replied as the medic stood.

    "You want to take her down? Your back is younger than mine." The medic, Bert, offered with a grin. Seeing the fraught expression on his friend's face he added. "She'll be fine, Ben. The folks at Grygla Community Health will patch her up as good as new. Just like they have for years."

    Ben ignored the paramedic at he plucked Camille up and hustled her down the stairs and into the waiting ambulance. Bert was a couple steps behind, and with practiced ease climbed aboard, slamming the doors as he did so. It was a long five minute drive...
     
  18. Fan7asticMrFox

    Fan7asticMrFox Contributor Contributor

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    Teddy Jones

    Bill and Ted decided to go their separate ways, attending to Evangeline and the bikes respectively. The old timer glanced through his murky specs with a squint of a foggy memory.

    “The doctor lady, right?” He started, still holding the glasses to his face. “Angi... Angel... right? Oh... your car will be fine there. Ever since all these out’a towners started showing up, there’s been nothing but trouble.” Bill’s suspicions surfaced once more and Eva got the brunt of it, as he cosied up to her. “Between you and me, I reckon it’s aliens. First that fella on the news died, and then blokes in suits - what’s next?” The church bell rang, and a tumbleweed passed.

    Meanwhile Teddy’s attention had turned to the biker, who had found himself on the wrong end of a breakdown.

    “Battery’s dead.” Teddy said casually. He hadn’t even moved. The biker looked up quizzically, unconvinced by the youth of the mechanic. Yes, he had the blue overalls, now tied together around the waist, and yes he had more grease on him than a wheel axle, but his skinny physique and playful demeanour did not inspire confidence.

    “Usually a dead battery means a replacement.” A smirk began to form on Teddy’s face. “But as a mechanical magician, I’ve got a little trick that could get that thing running for years...” He paused briefly, staring across at his customer and the bike, with its rucksacks and knapsacks fitted on.

    “...for a hundred bucks.”
     
  19. Mr Mr

    Mr Mr Active Member

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    Raven

    Raven Sighed as the alarm went off. He wished he knew how to avoid time. If he could just slip outside of it for a while and keep sleeping. Sadly he had a job to go to. The downside to being in a small town was a lack of rich people. At some point he would find some easier way to get money, there were plenty of criminals in the town, mabye he could take money from them. Getting out of bed he dressed and sat down to watch tv with his breakfast. At this time it was nothing but boring news and kids cartoons. He opted for cartoons, why depress himself with other peoples problems?

    Raven checked his watch, 9:45 time to get moving. Picking up his bag he headed to the door, the world flickering slightly as it opened. The world outside was grey, as if the colour had been removed. As he walked down the street various ghostly outlines passed him. He didn't bother stepping around them, he just let them pass through him, or rather he passed through them. He was the solid one after all. Raven entered his place of work by its back door, the world flickering again as he stepped inside. It was a small coffee shop that served most of the town and Raven enjoyed making the various cakes they sold.

    His boss jumped slightly as he stepped behind the counter. She never saw him arrive and she never saw him leave but he was always on time, and as long as it stayed that way she would ignore the fact he seemed to vanish and reappear each day. She couldn't even remember if she had seen him outside of the shop.

    "Morning Raven." She said.

    "Morning." He said grabbing a tray of cakes for the counter. Now to start the day.
     
  20. SocksFox

    SocksFox Contributor Contributor Contest Winner 2023

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    Camille: Happenings

    Irritably Camille pushed her glasses back up her nose and scowled at Ben, who scowled right back. "I can't believe you called 911. It wasn't that bad."

    "I didn't dial 911, I called Martha at dispatch and she sent Bert out. There's a difference. Had I dialed 911 they would have taken you to Bemidji, where they would have given you a thorough work up, not just a transfusion." Ben fired back. "Did you see the state of your bathroom before you passed out?"

    "It's a genetic disorder, Ben. Not the end of the world." Camille said, resting her head wearily against the back of the car seat. Christ her knees hurt. "What about Radish and the Hammer? Please tell me you didn't leave them unattended."

    "Completely and utterly." He replied and relented just as quickly at the look of total horror on her face. "Martha put in a call to Mr. Herrings. He took over both dog and store for the remainder of the afternoon. Which means, I get to keep you."

    "We've been through this, Officer Hanson." She said, attempting to regain a level of professionalism. "I don't need a keeper. I do fine on my own, always have."

    "I've seen your bathroom, Cami." He said, a smile in his voice. "And believe me when I say, you do need a keeper. Since you're my hostage I'll buy you a smoothie."

    Camille's expression turned from mulish to rueful. "I did only get about two sips of the one Artie made." Suddenly she glanced down at her bandaged knees. "Damn, I forgot about Artie. I can't go into Java Speak looking like this. He'll flip out. He's worse than my mom, but please don't tell him I said so."

    "Got it covered, Cami. There's the new place about two blocks down, I haven't tried yet. Out of friendship with Artie, I've stayed faithful to Java Speak. How about it?" Ben prodded.

    "Fine." She conceded, arms akimbo. "But I need some stuff from the grocery store, too."

    Ben merely grinned and started the engine of his green Jetta.
     
  21. Kingtype

    Kingtype Banned Contributor

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    Right under your nose!
    Brian continued to search around for the building in the pictured. He was getting more and more positive it was to arrest him. He just had to keep his thoughts away from Wolfgang.......which is what he was doing. Once you have been living with someone in your head for the last couple years you have to get used to hiding things. He examined the photo again as he walked around town. It had to be around here somewhere. His long orange hair bouncing as he walked.
     
  22. Love to Write

    Love to Write I'm a lover of writing. What else is to be said? Contributor

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    Shyla

    Shyla had dropped Frodo off at home before taking her motorcylce to Java Speak. It was a coffee shop as well as a small deli. Only the slightest hint of a frown remained on her face after her encounter with the crazy lady who had demolished her phone...and the punk dude who almost saw her use her abilities. Despite her loss of her phone, she had gained a new gold medal...that almost made up for it. Sides, her parents were rich and could easily replace it. Hopefully most of her contacts and calender information had been backed up on the internet.

    "Small blackberry smoothie. And your avacado turkey club sandwich." Shyla said stepping up to the counter.
    "Name, please?" The clerk asked.
    "Shyla."
    As her smoothie got ready she watched a man with spikey black hair preparring cakes. He wasn't that interesting...until he turned around and she saw his eyes. Jet black iris. Beautiful, but dark. Very unlike her normal brown eyes. The smoothie came and she tipped generously before plopping down at an empty table to wait for her sandwich. She pulled out her sketch pad and pencil. She had taken up drawing last year when she graduated. She wasn't very good but she was improving. The best Shyla could do at the moment was make flowers and only the most basic outlines of people. Motor-crossing was still her first love. But drawing was rapidly becoming a second.
     
  23. AnonyMouse

    AnonyMouse Contributor Contributor

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    Evangeline Albrite

    “The doctor lady, right? Angi... Angel... right?”

    She nodded, with a mild smile. Evangeline could go on for days about how she was no angel… but denying a compliment (is that what it was?) would be incredibly unladylike.

    “Oh... your car will be fine there,” Bill concluded. “Ever since all these out’a towners started showing up, there’s been nothing but trouble. Between you and me, I reckon it’s aliens. First that fella on the news died, and then blokes in suits - what’s next?”

    Blokes in suits? Eva thought, but decided not to ask, lest he have reason to give a full account of whatever conspiracy theories he’d concocted.

    “Ah, yes… suits,” she said neutrally and an awkward silence settled between them. “I should probably get going and stop tying up your lot,” she said, slowly backing away. “I’ll only be a few minutes, I promise.”

    Eva quickly crossed the street, moving as briskly as a woman could in heels. Once inside the Java Speak, she approached the counter and ordered a coffee with lots of cream, two spoons of sugar, and a little honey. “And I’ll have a dozen of those doughnuts, if you would,” she added. “Doesn’t matter what kind. Surprise me.”

    It took 223 seconds for the girl at the counter to return with her order. Eva passed the time by stealthily observing the two men in suits, eating lunch at one of the booths. They weren’t the Suits she had in mind. Something strange was going on in Grygla, but maybe it wasn’t what she thought it was…

    317 seconds after leaving, Eva was walking back into the lot of Bill’s Fixer, with a coffee in one hand and a box of assorted doughnuts balanced in the other. “For you,” she said, offering the latter to Bill. “Thanks again.”

    She was about to excuse herself when the sound of sirens pierced the quiet country air. Eva quickly turned to see, expecting a police car to come whizzing by, but it was an ambulance instead. The one day I’m not at my clinic, this happens? she thought as the truck thundered by and disappeared around the corner, but she knew it couldn’t be going far.

    “I’m sorry, but I have to go,” Eva said as she hastily set the doughnuts on the hood of the nearest car and moved toward her own, checking her cellphone as she went. No missed calls. That could mean anything. If the injury was serious enough, the patient might be taken to a true hospital, not her little clinic.

    By the time she turned the corner, the ambulance was gone. Eva drove by the Grammer Hammer, where she saw Mr. Herrings was inside, mopping the floors. She continued on driving toward home but, unlike the ambulance, Eva had to stop at every stop sign and traffic light. Worse, she got caught behind a cattle crossing, nearly doubling the short drive from the town center to her home.

    She turned onto a short dirt road nestled in trees, with a sign that said "GRYGLA COMMUNITY HEALTH" and an arrow pointing the way. Eva's home, which doubled as a clinic and small pharmacy, was a large, white, Victorian manor, two storys tall, with a wraparound porch and tall columns. The entire first floor was devoted to the practice of medicine, and had been completely remodeled, but that was hard to tell just by looking at it. Bert’s ambulance parked beside the house, and a hand-painted sign over the door reading ‘CLINIC’ were the only indication that this wasn’t just another country home at the end of a dusty road.

    A green Jetta was driving away, headed toward town, just as Dr. Eva Albrite’s silver Audi pulled into the grass parking lot. She shut off the engine and headed inside, toting her briefcase and a cold cup of coffee. Home sweet home.
     
  24. Mr Mr

    Mr Mr Active Member

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    Raven

    "Name please."

    "Shyla." A voice said towards the counter. Raven turned around. It belonged to a ponytailed girl with a small blue highlight. He guessed she was the artsy type, they like to dye their hair. As she sat down he flashed her a smile. A side effect of his eyes being all one colour was that any expression was over emphasised. Smile appeared bigger, anger worse, etc. It could sometime be annoying. The girl looked younger than him, although he didn't think it was buy much. His artsy-type guess was confirmed as she pulled out a sketch pad and starte drawing something. As the chef called for her sandwhich Raven picked it up and took it over. She was so busy with her art that she didn't notice him until he was right next to her.

    "What are you drawing?" He said placing the plate down.
     
  25. JessWrite

    JessWrite Word Nerd & Proud! Contributor

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    Baley Warsaw

    At this moment, Minnesota truly did feel like home. Morning work was done, the sun was still shining, and as the wind gently played through her hair she smiled. Peace. She hadn't felt that in quite awhile, not with the busyness of the season. Baley stopped where she was and paused to look at her family's homestead, the land that went on for miles and miles. White fences that held their prized cattle dotted the scenery, the exact fences she'd put up herself. If only them town-folk saw this like the real masterpiece it is, Baley thought. She'd never be like them so why did she concern herself? She didn't need any of the fancy stuff to be happy, she didn't even need a vehicle. Baley pondered all this as she hefted her knapsack back onto her shoulders.

    Then it hit...Pain.

    Baley clenched her teeth, instinctively throwing her knapsack to the ground. Not now...not right here. Baley held her hands above her head as the pain slowly coursed throughout her arms. Her world turned blurry as tears stung at her eyes. Chuck was probably at the house already...she was alone.

    Suddenly her knees buckled and she collapsed to the ground, still holding her hands above her head. She'd never had it this bad before and Baley's thoughts soon turned into worries as she cried her way through it.

    Finally the pain ceased. She managed to blink away her tears and sit up, cringing at what she was about to see. Slowly she brought her hands in front of her face. Just what she'd thought, her gloves were gone.

    "Dangnabit...not just one, but both. Bad luck," Baley said, raising her hands again to the sky as she struggled to stand up. As she did, she eyed the knapsack wearily. She certainly was in a pickle.

    "OK, don't panic Baley, ya got this in the bag. Literally." she whispered to herself.

    She walked closer to where the knapsack lay on its side and nudged it with her foot to flop it to its front. Good. Now for the buckle. Baley took no time and kicked off her boot, using her other foot to strip off her sock. With her big toe she began to fiddle with the buckle. Nearly five minutes passed and she still wasn't giving up. No way was she going to give up her precious knapsack.

    Two more minutes and she only had to unloop the strap. Baley bit her tongue as she balanced and with one flick, opened the bag. She let out the breath she'd been holding, but unfortunately her little predicament was far from over. The gloves were in the bottom of the bag, covered by their daily profits.

    "Should get paid all that after this," Baley grumbled. Sitting back down on the ground, she put her foot in the bag and shoved out all its contents, bills scattering everywhere. She prayed the wind wouldn't pick up as her toes hit the cold leather of a glove. When she saw the black leather she swore she heard heaven's angels rejoicing. Baley gave a final shake and out came one leather glove.

    One? The angels stopped singing. Baley jumped up and kicked the bag, praying she wasn't seeing things. Her tears came again at the official score. One glove. She'd been through all that for one glove. Her last glove.

    Fighting back the urge to scream, Baley went through the normal routine of getting on her right glove with the help of her foot. She must of dropped the other glove in town while counting out the money earlier. Baley could feel her blood pressure rising as she rose to her feet, put all the contents back with one hand, and swung the knapsack onto her shoulder. Scanning the horizon, her peace was gone, replaced by anger.

    It was obvious what she had to do. She had to get that glove; she had to go back into town.
     

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