Harvest Chapter 17

Ah, I lied to you. Chapter 17 so isn't finished. WAIT! Before you leave, I need to tell you all that I'm moving. Whaaaa-moving? Yes, moving. I have created my own site in which the edited version (therefore, the finished product) of Harvest along with other stories shall be posted. It's winter-publishing.com, so go check that out, if you will! :D Thank you all of being loyal readers! After some time, I will be shutting this blog down. So read this while you can! Love you all!
-writer of Harvest, aka Crystal Stars, aka dedicated writer.

Chapter 16

CHAPTER 16: CRIMSON TEAR

She was sure this is where she would die. She was sure the ice cold table and tight leather straps would hold her dead, limp body forever. Her fear clung at her heart and tightened her throat, causing each breath to become a whimper. With red vines weaving her body there was little fight she could put up, nor did she have any that still resided within her. It had been drained from every inch of her body as soon as her senses expanded past her feet. The pure shock had led her to easy capture, unable to move a single muscle as her senses ran over the form that rushed at her. Her lips tightened, pulling back to reveal her teeth. The words upon the wall in her home covered her mind.

Do Not Trust The Man You Trust The Most

How could she forget? How could she have been so naive? She struggled weakly against her binds, but the leather straps cut into her red vines and shot pain throughout every nerve. She relaxed as much as she could, her spine pressed against the table and her arms pinned to her sides. She pondered if her current state was reality. If the traitor before her was going to laugh it off and say it was all a test, which she undoubtably failed. Her fear restricted her. Unacceptable and disgraceful, whispered the inner most of her mind. But was she to do? Fight? Kill? The very thought of feeling a loved person's blood against her flesh made her skin crawl; then again, the circumstances weren't normal. Clearly this loved person no longer loved her and her skin had ceased to exist within her current form. Her fight continued seeping from her like a wound as he pulled a table with surgical supplies upon it next to her. Knives, syringes, scissors of all shapes and small, tweezer like supplies sat against the metal top. She swallowed hard, her senses running over the form before her as it approached and reached for her sash that, regardless of its ripped, torn, stiff, and burned exterior, had managed to protect her eyes. The gruff hand ripped it away without a second thought and Katara snapped, pulling the sash from the firm grip. Did he not know what he was doing? A small, mocking smile pulled at the corners of his lips.

“I'm terribly sorry Katara, it seems you've been lied to.” She growled, pulling her lips up tighter, her white teeth flashing. But her growl fell short, her snarl slipped from her features as he spoke the words, “Your eyes will never heal.” He allowed that to sink in, but arrogantly she shook her head roughly; he was lying. She would never believe him. Her reaction caused him to laugh, his smug smirk taking over his features.

“Oh, you don't have to believe me if you don't want to. But we know,” he chuckled, turning to the table of supplies and taking the syringe. “We know.” She stiffened as he ran a hand across her chest, sighing.

“Sadly we will not be able to wait for you to pass out from the serum within this.” he pressed the needle into her neck, forcing her breathing to come to a stop and grope helplessly for air. The liquid pressed into her vines, flowing through the bloodstream that connected each one. When he pulled away she coughed, whimpering.

“Sadly we will not be able to wait for you to pass out..”

Shock reached for her heart, realization dawning on her. Quickly she sent her senses across him as he reached for a knife. She scowled, her tail splitting into several parts and turning to a point out of rash instinct, reaching for his neck. But as the time came to end his life, her hesitation doomed her. Her vines stopped just short, allowing him to turn on a heel and slice the vines from her. She howled in pain, writhing in it as it flooded her like water, engulfing her body. Her claws scratched at the table, her muzzle distorted with pain. He shook his head, a disgusted frown pulling down his face.

“Pathetic. You wasted your last chance.” he smirked, “Though we have found something new. It seems there's a deeper side to you than we had analyzed.” His smirk widened into an all out bloodthirsty grin, “The part of you that wishes to kill.”

He strode over and rested his hand on her stomach, “Let's see this inner side of you, shall we?”

Desperate to buy time, Katara forced words from her mouth, pooling them into drunken slurs.

“Silwah,” she whined. His hand that rested against her, as if to restrain her, lessened its press as he glanced over in her direction. Hopeful, she tried again.

“Dodtoo, woo-ee?”

He rested the blade carelessly against the end over her collar bone and felt as she went stiff.

“It's nice to hear you speak,” his pleasant smile took his features as he pulled his blade through her, cutting down to her pelvis. Katara gasped, choking on breath, blood spilling onto the table and covering his hands. The smell and taste of copper filled her mouth and nose. He let out something like a giggle, as if mocking her.

“Don't worry, Kat. I'm a doctor.”

Jeff could barely remember arriving out the house. The howling sirens and flashing red and blue lights still crowded his mind. Her cold, dead eyes stared at him behind it all. He closed his eyes and sighed, rubbing his brow. Slowly he became conscious of the wooden boards below him, the sawdust that slipped between his toes and had already managed to cover his legs. Above him, a plastic cover protected him from the glaring sun, with slight, miniature holes cut into the material. As he continued glancing around, he found why. A make-shift fire was placed in the middle of the room, smoke slipping out through the holes. The building that held him seemed barely able to hold its own weight, beams left naked and simple, wooden flats serving as walls. There were no doors to speak of, only cut out shapes in the walls that guarded him. The windows had not yet been cut, or there were simply none in the room the two stayed in. Suddenly words slipped into his mind and he realized Alex was speaking to him as she moved a pot into the room.

“..Even knew my name. Till moments ago, that is. I hope you don't blame me, those bullets hold a special poison which attacks the heart within moments. I've tried to get stronger, but it wasn't enough in the end.” Here she sighed, pausing to poke at the fire. It seemed as if she didn't expect him to answer, as if she was aware he hadn't been listening the entire time. He shocked her when he did speak, however.

“I don't blame you,” his voice was a whisper. Her eyes rested on him, as if it reassured her nerves. She smiled slightly, throwing the stick into the fire and fingering her gloves.

“I'm glad you don't blame me.” she managed to say. She stood and moved a pot of water to the fire, allowing Jeff to notice her gloves were no longer lathered with blood, but wether she washed them or put on an identical pair was unclear. Alex spied him watching her and glanced down. She sat by the fire and beckoned him closer, Jeff stiffly complying. He sat across her in the saw dust covered floor, looking at her gloves curiously as she fingered the ends. The black gloves clung strangely close to her fingers, the joints in a few places too boney to be healthy. Alex herself, though, did not appear to be under fed.

“I was-” she started, the paused, looking around, fearful of something. She sighed and began again, “I was attacked. Another from my school attacked me.” Her jaw tightened, fists curled. “He used her. Is still using her. He used his pet to fight for him, cause he's too much of a coward to do it himself.” She lifted her right glove and bit down on the tips, pulling the glove off and letting it fall forgotten to the ground. Her eyes were ablaze.

“Look at this!” she howled, her voice a deadly mix of violence and betrayal. Jeff stared, astonished, unable to speak, let alone breathe. Alex smiled cooly, “Do you know how hard it is to grow entire fingers back?” He swallowed hard, peering at her hand, the fire casting a glow upon it. The smoke filtered out through small holes in the tarp above, but jeff still felt as if he was chocking. Her fair skin was ripped viciously away from the bone, revealing a bloodstained mess against the skeleton of her hand. The skin was ripped from her middle finger down to her ring finger, torn in a slant across both. The middle showed the tip of the bone, pointed and stained with dried blood. Where the skin was alive the end was raw and pulsing, muscle and veins alike showing at the place where alive and dead met. Her ring finger was cut to its first joint, skin loose and ripped, falling around the mauled finger like dead meat. Her pinkie was completely gone. Whatever skin or bone that had once been there had been taken from her violently. Alex stared at his horrified face and laughed bitterly, “You haven't even seen the worst part yet.” She turned her hand so her palm would face him and vomit clogged his throat. He swallowed hard, but was unable to look away. Every bone and muscle in her hand was visible from underneath. The skin had been completely shredded off, through some still fell loosely around it. She moved her fingers slightly, or what was left of them, and he could see the grotesque, bloody mess of muscles tense and tug, allowing the bones to be pulled in certain ways. A strange, clear goo was slathered over the open wounds, creating some sort of protective shield to allow the healing to go undisturbed. Or so he thought, for the blood and broken veins did not bleed out. He could only imagine the pain she went through every moment of the day. She lowered her hand and looked it over herself, her eyes defeated.

“The damage was worse,” her gloved hand touched her chest. “You were able to see my ribs. My lungs. If you looked closely, even my organs could be glimpsed at.” She winced at the thought, her face distorted and shadowed dramatically in the light. “It took me days. Dragging myself with two fingers on one hand, and one finger on the the other, pulling myself away, till I finally got to water. I thought to myself, 'I heard drowning was the most peaceful way to die.' So in I went. But I couldn't die. I wouldn't. And I was pulled down the stream and landed ashore in some farmer's yard. My chest had mostly healed, but the problem was clothes the hide what had not been healed. They had been mutilated in the attack. I'm sure he thinks I went and died somewhere.” She closed her eyes, “And so I stood. I stood and forced myself to walk. At this time, I could not let myself die. My very being pleaded for it, the process of healing myself over days, none stop, had burdened my muscles. I was stretching myself. I was at my limit. I couldn't go on, I couldn't breathe, but I did. I sucked in lungfuls of air and made my muscles move. In the tangles of corn I found the scarecrow rise up off the ground. On its shoulders rested a beaten jean jacket,” she tugged at the one she wore, the move of broken fingers and disconnected bones touching the fabric causing Jeff's stomach to churn once more.

“So I took it. It's torso had beaten jeans and I took those as well,” she glanced down at the mutilated jeans, covered with sawdust and dirt. “My previous ones had been covered in blood, so I left them in the field. And after hours of walking, eating uncooked corn straight from the stalk and finding heatstroke at my door, I finally came to the run down cabin that served as a home. My hands were still grotesque and, though the jean jacket helped, there wasn't much else under my shirt.” She glanced into the fire, seeming undeterred about telling this to a male. “So I slipped to the back, where clothes were hanging on the line and snatched a black shirt and some gloves a sap had left on the deck. The roar of a car had startled me off into the fields again, and from the safety of the stalks I watched as a family pulled into the driveway and walked inside. A bike had been strapped to the back of the large truck, and, tempted, I sprinted out to take it. I pulled the back down and was slipping the bike out hurriedly when a second pair of hands grabbed the bike and lifted it up and out. I was scared. I stared at the man, absolutely frozen, afraid for my life of what he would do. He smiled at me, then reached for my hand and touched the ends of my missing fingers. He must have seen the glove sag unnaturally and knew my fingers were missing. He helped me down and spoke to me in a fatherly voice, 'Now, don't go wrecking this bike.' He smiled again and patted me on the back and said, 'And don't be a stranger. You go do what you need to do.' With that he walked off and left me the bike. I jumped on and rod off.

“It took a while for me to figure out where I was and even longer to get into town. When I rode in to town, I found that I couldn't go home. My mom's probably worried sick and is doing everything in her power to find me, but I can't go home. I don't want to get her involved. I don't want to hurt her.” Alex sighed, standing and placing a collection of items into the rapidly bubbling water. Pine leaves, flowers, tiny pieces of meat, along with a collection of other greens that resembled leaves. She pulled out a ladle, rusted along the handle and stirred the soup. She then pulled her glove back on.

“So I found this place. Lack of funds makes it a place for the homeless. You'll find at night we have neighbors in other rooms. I stole some school kid's backpack, though I left all his belongings, and snatched things from stores to sustain myself. I found the ladle in a garage sale.” She chuckled half-heartedly, “which would explain a lot. It's not much, but at least it's enough to keep me going. I also snatched a book on plants so I could see what and what not to eat.” She smiled at him, stirring the pot again.

“Who did this to you?” Jeff asked, surprising himself with how tense he sounded. Alex looked at him, Jeff looking up from his hands, “And. How did you survive?”

“Survival's easy for a healer. It's keeping yourself together that's the hard part.” Jeff nodded, understanding, though didn't get the full answer he wanted. Before he could say anything Alex spoke again.

“It's the whole faith thing, you know? I don't understand how people can keep their faith during times like these. You wonder how the Big Guy let's this sort of stuff happen. Not just to me, but people like me. How he could let people die, let so many horrible people win. Let this black-souled people hold control in their hands. Everyone says everything's going to be okay, oh, you'll be okay. But it's not okay,” her voice had slipped into bitter sarcasm, “How come twenty-one students had to die? How come that shooter was able to escape? Why didn't I die with them? Why-”

Jeff's grip upon her shoulders shocked her to stop. His eyes were engulfed in fire, “Listen,” his voice was harsh, low, “without you, Jess would've never told me she loves me. I didn't even know she thought about me like that.” His eyes grew sad, “Without you, I would've never known. Clearly you're here for a reason. You were able to bless me.” His tight grip loosened as he pulled away, Alex still staring at him in shock. At last she managed to murmur, “And to think. I thought this was a one-sided conversation.” She earned a slight smile from Jeff who chuckled softly.

“So did I,” he said. Alex glanced towards the door, or what served as a door, letting out a heavy breath.

“She was going to talk about the school, or, had already mentioned it.” Jeff sucked in a painful breath as she continued, oblivious, “I don't know of anyone who would've shot her but the school. To silence her. But, that doesn't even make sense. If they shot her, then everyone is suspicious of the school.”

“They have all the power they need. They don't need to act like anything happened,” Jeff chipped in, “they silenced the one person who questioned them. And now they can go on looking like a normal school.”

Alex shook her head, “That makes sense. But they're so demonized. I can't see them ever doing this cold-heartedly.” She handed him the ladle, “No bowls. Careful not to get cut.”

“But they already have, Alex,” he took the ladle and sipped some of the soup. Plain but filling, due to the collection of plants. “No bowls, you said? What about spoons?”

Alex shook her head, “Only so much I can carry.”

“And two can carry more.” He smiled broadly at her, dipping the ladle in once more. The rust drew blood and Jeff watched as the crimson tear fell down into the mix.

A smug smile twisted the lips of the sadist as he watched the boy before him tense with anger.

“I kissed her, you know,” he said in a low drawl, enjoying every word of it. “I took her first kiss, something she'll never forget. How could you ever kiss her knowing her lips once touched mine?”

The boy scowled, “You leave her out of this.”

“Oh?” He laughed heartedly, “She's the whole reason for this! She's the reason that woman had to die,” he gestured to the stage, clouds overhead dimming the lighting and causing the blood to look like wet paint. “Oh, but you aren't listening, are you? You're blocking me out, praying for Katara's safety instead of your own. Listen, Samuel!” His twisted smirk widened, Samuel's face distorted with disgust, “I'll do my best to make you understand her pain.”

1000 Views. I love you people.

1000 views? What? And 6 from Denmark? Bloody Denmark? Dude, I feel like, famous. So. In honor of all you of people from across seas and in the same continent as me, I'm going to give you something a bit different. It's not a chapter for Harvest, though that will be up rather soon. (actually, I have to type up 2 chapters, but I'm lazy and video games are tempting. ._. ) It's going to be something bloody awesome, even though, as I'm typing this, I'm desperately trying to figure something to match your guys' epicness. Heh, anyways. Thanks everyone for viewing! I love you guys! ^-^

“Seriously, guys? It's 7 in the morning.”

“The sun's been up for a while.”

“It's summer. Now leave before I kill you off.”

She grinned, the sash around her eyes tight and closing off whatever lay beneath. “You wouldn't do that. I'm the main character. Everyone loves me.”

“Don't you get cocky. I've seriously contemplated it.” I rubbed my eyes, sighing. “The lot of you are annoying. Why I even made you is a complete mystery to me.”

“Oh don't try to sound poetic and all writery.” Samuel huffed out, leaning against the door frame. I glared at him meaningly, “I am a writer. I can sound that way if I want to.” He rolled his eyes, shrugging. “The real question is, why you made him.” He jerked a thumb back to where Silver Vain sat on the couch, watching t.v. I wrinkle my nose, “I'm surprised he's not experimenting on one of you.”

Katara shivered and Samuel spoke up in her defense, “Yeah, what was the reason for that anyways?”

I smirked and shrugged, “You tell me. Good night.”

Katara grabbed my shoulders and shook me, shocking me to my core and throwing my tired mind into panic. I yelped and jumped into a sitting position, ready to kill someone. Katara grinned, laughing at my expression. I scowled, tossing my pillow at her, then blinking, confused how that made sense. She didn't look to impressed and, sheepishly, I asked for my one and only pillow back.

“Why should I give it to you?”

“Cause I made you!” I pleaded in a whinny voice, tipping backwards, catching myself before I fell.

“And you screwed her over,” Silver pitched in from the other room. My expression fell, displeasure cutting lines into my face.

“Thank you, Doctor Phil.” I growled out, my morning voice sounding much like a man's. One with a cold, to top it off. I sighed, rubbing my eyes and yawning.
“So what the heck did you want from me?”

“Well,” Katara started, giddy, “we had some ideas for the next chapter.”

“The next chapter's already written.”

“Well the one after-”

“Finished.”

Katara's brow knitted together under her brow, her jaw set to display her less than happy emotion. I grinned, “Can I go to sleep now?”

“Actually,” the black haired kid walked in, who, no matter what happened, I had difficulty remembering his name. Most likely cause I hated him. “I had some ideas to add as well,” Jerry said, shrugging.

“Who invited you in?” I growled, throwing the nearest thing at him. The pencil hit his chest and fell lamely to the ground.

“Ha!” I howl victoriously, “take that! Pencil to the chest!” I tipped back on my mattress, pulling the blankets over my head. I groaned when someone sat down, crushing my legs.

“I'm going to kill whoever is on me.” The blankets were pulled off of my head and tiredly I glared at the person at the foot of my bed. I blinked, “Oh. Hi.”

Mr. Linkin smiled half-heartedly, though irritation was at the edge of his smile. “We're out of food. Again.”

“What!? Penguin flipping..Who ate the last of the food!? I just got some yesterday! I'm going to be broke soon! Then I won't even be able to buy pencil and paper and all of you,” I pointed an accusing finger to Katara, “even you, smart butt, will die.”

Collectively they rolled their eyes, paying no attention to the fact that their death was imminent. More so for one, than the others. I sighed, rubbing my eyes.

“Let's hear this idea of yours—and yes, I'll get more food, Linkin.”

“It's Mr. Linkin.”

I glanced up, my expression tired and agitated, “I can make your life a whole lot worse.”

“Right, well, I'm going..out.” He smiled pleasantly then quickly strode out-on the fine line of walking and running. I turned my tired eyes to Katara. “Yes?”

“So, I was thinking that instead of no eyes, it was all an illusion and-”

“You don't have eyes. Get over it. Next.”

Katara huffed a breath out, disappointed and displeased with my attitude. Samuel stepped up, slipping away from Jerry. “I was thinking that I could heroically run in and save Katara.” He grinned broadly and I smiled bitterly. “You're already attractive enough. Get out of here.”

Jerry smirked, “Though no match for me.”

“Watch it,” Samuel growled, “or I'll beat you up even more.”

“Bring it, pretty boy.”

“OH HECK NO!” I shouted, stopping the boys in their tracks, who looked at me, shocked expressions wrecking their faces. “Outside. Now. Get.”

They glanced at each other, as if not wanting to do so. “Go on!” I growled and quickly they scurried off. After a pause, I cocked my head. “I wonder if anyone else besides me thinks Samuel is attractive..I wonder if I should make that more noticeable. I wonder how,” I trailed off, brow knitted in concentration. Kat sighed, rolling her eyes, “Yeah, you're cool.”

“I know.” I grinned, then she smirked wickedly, “You talk to imaginary people.” Offended, I shot back defensively, “You're plenty real! Look at this!” I scrambled out of bed and grabbed my sketch book, shoving it in her face, pointing to one picture in particular. “That's you!”

“Mmhmm. I hope it isn't.” With that she stood and strode out, leaving me with a gaping mouth. My face twisted with anger, “I hate all of you.” I sat the sketch book down and looked at the picture.

“It's not that bad.” I trailed off, cocking my head, then shrugged, “Eh, I made her, I can butcher her looks as much as I want.” A smirk curled my lips, “I should make her fat.” Snickering, I ran out, then froze as I passed a mirror. “Hmm. Maybe I should shower. Eh.” I shrugged one more, then shot off to the computer, a giant grin on my face. Quickly I opened up the Harvest document and waited for it to load. Silver came over, glancing at my face. “You're not up to any good, are you?”

“Nope.”

“Interesting. Should I be concerned?”

“Probably.”

He shrugged, walking off laughing. “Someone's going to get it!” Suddenly he was back at my side, “It's not me is it?”

I groaned, “No, you haven't done anything wrong.”

He grinned, resuming his laughter and mockery of the other characters that inhabited the house. Before I got started messing up Katara's image, Jess walked in.

“Lauren.”

“Oh my-WHAT!?” I snap, looking at her.

“You killed me.”

“Yep.”

She blinked, putting her hands on her hips. “You. Killed. Me.”

“Yeah, I know.” I cocked my head, “Dude, seriously. It's cool.”

“No, it's not! You shot me! In the chest!” She put her fingers where the wound had been inflicted. I shook my head, “No, I didn't shoot anyone.”

“Seriously?”

“Whaaat?” I whined, going limp in my chair, exasperated. “What do you want from me?”

“Not to be dead!”

“You're standing right there. Talking to me.”

“In the story, you jack-”

“Woah now, no cursing.” I waved my finger, my lips pursed. The expression was broke when I smirked, “Besides. You're alive in people's memories.” I mocked the look-at-this-sentimental-moment-you'd-better-be-touched voice that all the movies do. Jess rubbed her brow, “Yeah, you don't have a lot of friends. Do you?”

“Yes I do!”

She looked at me and cocked a brow, grinning. I scowled, “You're going to be fat too.” She chuckled victoriously, then strode off. I stuck out my tongue as she turned and walked off, shaking my fist. I turn back to Harvest and scroll down through the millions of pages. Before I make it to the newest chapter, someone else walks in.

“Oh my gosh, what now!?” I growl, throwing my hands in the air. I let them hit the table and wince, bitting my lip as I try not to tell the table to go die in a hole alone and spontaneously combust. Alex looked at me with a cocked brow, questioning the pathetic expression on my face. I smile sheepishly, “Pay no attention to me.”
“Sadly, I have to.”

“Okay, why does everyone hate me?”

“Uhm. You screw up our lives.”

“But..I made you!”
She crossed her arms, “For your sick desires.”

“I wouldn't call them sick,” desperately I placed the blame somewhere else, “it's all for the sake of the plot!” I make a dramatic face, hoping I would get sympathy. After all, I was the one who's twisted mind came up for the plot and the interweaving web of chaos. C'mon, I did deserve some sympathy. Then again, they could use that to put me in the mental hospital. Something to think about, I suppose.

“This is how much I care.” Alex growled. I blinked, waiting. Awkwardly we stared at each other till finally Alex cracked.

“Oh my God, WHAT?!”

“You never told me how much.”

She looked confused, cocking a brow. “What?”

“You were all,” I put my hands on my hips, pursed my lips and spoke in a mocking voice, “'This is how much I care', but then you don't tell me how much.” I made a 'duh' expression upon my face, then smirked, seeing how Alex reacted. She was fuming, red in the face and fists clenched. Her jaw was set and she opened her mouth to say something. All that came out, however, was an exasperated breath, “You're hopeless.” Then she stormed off.

“And guess who created you?” I shouted back as she slipped out of my view. I smirked when I heard her groan. A crash thundered through the house and I sighed. “I'm never going to get anything done at this rate.” I stood up and walked to the window in the other room, avoiding the couch and table on the way. Peering out the window I saw Jerry what's-his-name and Samuel hottie fighting it out n the backyard. I stood there staring as they fought, wondering if I should write down that Samuel's shirt had been, at some point in the fight, ripped off. I decided against it and ran out the door. Coming to the back of the house I stood there with hands on my hips. The grass that had finally started to come alive was now dying again, having been burnt and trampled as Jerry charged in his massive beast form against the hot Samuel. And when I say hot, I mean, seriously, he was on fire. Jerry froze when he spotted me standing behind the two of them, allowing Samuel time to punch him full force with a fist full of fire against the face. Jerry yelped, snapped at Samuel's hand then motioned with his snout towards me, glaring at Sammy. Sammy turned around and looked as if he was a beaten puppy, ready for another slap. He grinned sheepishly, “Uh. Hello.”

“You killed my grass.”

“Oh,” he glanced at his feet, “I'm-”

“I mean, seriously, why didn't you go to the neighbors and fight it up!? Their grass is already dead! Jeez. Common sense, people.” I threw my hands into the air, frustrated beyond belief as Samuel and Jerry exchanged a glance. I threw an accusing finger at the two of them, “You think I'm crazy, don't you!?”

“NO! No, no, no! Not at all!” They both shook their heads hurriedly, Samuel waving his hands, palms out towards me.

“Hm. Whatever. You guys are making the grass come back.” Collectively they groaned, shoulders falling. I grinned triumphantly, then strode off. “Oh,” I backtracked a bit to face them, “And please, if you're going to fight somewhere, don't do it on our property.”

“But, we'll be sued if we do it again.”

“Sued? Who fed you that lie?”

Grotesquely Jerry shifted back to human, his horns pulling into his skull, his arms shrinking, his tail receding till he stood on his feet again. Luckily he still had clothes on. Out of his pocket he pulled out a letter from the police.

“The po-po gave us this when we wrecked up the park.” He came up next to me, handing me the paper. Flippantly I glanced it over and shrugged, giving it back. “What can they do when you've got powers and they got guns?”

“Uhm. Shoot us.”

I blinked, then smirked wickedly, “I never did really like you.”

“And I'm going to give you writer's block.”

Stunned, my eyes went wide, “Wait don't-!”

Curses.

CHAPTER 15: TESTS
 

Slowly she became conscious of the heavy, claustrophobic breaths she was inhaling. Her senses expanded, quickly scanning where she was, only to find she was restricted in an elevated area. The container that held her was curved like a test beaker, fat where she lay and shrinking to its tip. She was shocked to find her shifted form remained with her and struggled to stand, pushing her paws against the ground and managing the slam her head right into the side of the container. There was no standing space unless she arched her back and pushed her head down. She growled, pulling the vined lips away from her teeth, snarling at whoever was watching. She attempted to send her senses around her, but no beam nor cords kept her off the ground. How she was squeezed into this place was already perplexing enough.

“Good. You're awake.” Spoke a dark voice out of her limited range of sight. She growled lower, facing in the direction of the voice. But the voice echoed around her container, making it seem to come from all directions. The voice laughed heatedly, clearly amused as she made a fool of herself, growling in all directions.

“I assume you've already tried to figure out how to see me, haven't you? Well, we've already met. But we can get to introductions later. First we have a few tests to put you through.”

A mist seeped into the large holding around her, pouring in from the top. To her right the container opened its large metal belly, and a metallic noise rang in her hears. She flattened them to hinder the noise's affect, though at the same time attempted to stay alert. Suddenly a large, muzzle like device covered her mouth, the tube that had held it pulling away before she had a chance to send her senses through it. She growled, but could neither open her mouth, nor pull the thing off. She slammed the side of her head against the metal holding hard, hitting the device, but it would not break. Her paws started to pull apart, the vines gripping at all edges and pulling at the mask that covered her muzzle. Suddenly it shoved something down her throat, liquid that was stored within it pouring into her stomach. She winced, pulling her vines away, whimpering.

“Hurts, doesn't it?” came the voice again, taunting. “It's going through your very make up right now, figuring out how you can live when all you are is a mess of vines. Where did all your organs go? Where have your teeth come from? Where are your bones?”

Katara put her head down, the pain making it hard to even move. Her whimpering grew louder, her tail tucked near her hind legs. A voice chuckled again, “It'll pass, don't you worry. Then you'll finally find out what you really are. Isn't that exciting?” the voice sounded too giddy for Katara's liking, a shiver running down her back. Then something strange happened. The voice began talking to itself.

“Exciting indeed. I wonder if we should dissect her. Dissect her? Would that not kill her? No, no, we'd make sure she didn't die. Wouldn't want our little guard dog to die, would we? No, no. though dissection may be a good idea. Especially if we open her up in the middle of a change. See how it happens. Or maybe we should see if she can heal from being so opened up? Maybe both. Maybe both at the same time. Though we must be careful. Wouldn't want little Kat here to know who we were. Or hurt us. No, no.”

Kat shivered, the thought of someone examining her like a frog chilling her to the bone. Her fear radiated off her like a disease, and noticing it, the voice stopped to laugh. “Oh, dear Katara, don't be so frightened. You'll soon be back with your friends. We only must run a few tests first. Yes, yes, just a few, only a few, dear girl. Then you will be on your way. Yes, yes, such a great foreshadowing indeed. But we must not say anymore, no, no, though she shall feel much better after the dissection. Yes, yes.”

As she listened to the male voice go about his rambling on how best to dissect her, the thought suddenly occurred to her: what if there were two of them? Two insanities, poking around inside her, pulling at things and jabbing things with needles. She shivered; one pair of hands was enough. Suddenly she retched, the smell filling her containment. The liquid that was poured into her now was poured out, and once again, the voice began to speak to her. “Pity. I was hoping that would work. It was a prototype, you see. But apparently it did not like your stomach, nor your stomach it. Shame. We will have to figure out what to do with that, won't we?”

Katara groaned, the pain burning her throat, each breath causing her throat to catch fire. She tried to stand, tried something, anything, to stay awake. But her consciousness was slipping, the pain overwhelming. She had been beat. This was it.

The breaths tore at her throat, burning her lungs, wherever they may be. After the brothers began speaking about where her organs went, she wasn't quite sure she herself knew. Did they remain in her chest, or had they been moved somewhere else within her body during the change? She slowed her steps, gasping for breath, which was hard due to the long cord that was pressed down her throat. Pulling at it had only hurt her, as did attacking it with other means. She laid down, resting her head on her crossed legs. During the time she had been forcefully put to sleep she had been moved to a new container. Much larger, with enough space for her to stand and run around ten strides each direction. Which was what she had been told to do once she woke, and, out of fear of her life, she had complied. She had attempted to find the source of the cord's power, only to find it was long, stretching outside the container and attached to the side, gears and devices monitoring her as she ran, supplying oxygen when it felt as if she could find none. A single clap was heard and one of the brothers spoke. "Excellent! Within this form you can run much longer than any human."
"Much longer, yes," said the identical voice, and Katara could almost hear the nod in his voice. "Longer than a normal wolf?"
"Maybe, maybe longer. We must gather a wild wolf running. We shall compare."
"Yes, yes, compare. See who is the dominant species."
Together, as if with one voice, the two laughed. Kat sunk deeper, trying to force her body to be swallowed into the metal-like ground below her. Her ears were back, fear creeping over ever vine within her body.
"Now, what to test next, hm?"
"Yes, what shall we test? Genes? Does this form contain blood? Can this form even die?"
"That boy had said something about her back. Though looking closely we cannot see a single thing."
"No, no, that boy must have been mistaken."
"Yes, yes, indeed."
"Have we decided?"
"I do believe we have. Genes. We must take a look into what she actually is."
The cord that had been stuck down her throat was now painfully ripped out, the tube pointing its end to shape much like a needle. Kat remained down, whimpering. These men, they spoke of ripping her open, keeping her alive as they took a peek within her guts. She shivered, her paws on her muzzle, tail tucked next to her legs. The needle inched closer, jabbing at the vines that created her shoulder, pulling a single piece out. Katara yelped, snapping at the needle, which retaliated with a slight electric shock. She recoiled, pulling away from the needle, growling quietly.
"Did you see that?"
"Of course I did." Grumbled one of the brothers angrily, and for a moment Katara was led to believe she had done something wrong. She stiffened, preparing for something terrible and painful to her. But the brothers did not notice her behavior, too fixed upon something else.
"The place where she was probed." The brother trailed off, only to be completed by the other.
"It turned blue. Deep blue. Did we get the sample, we do wonder?"
"No, it appears it has been turned to ash and accepted into the atmosphere already. No traces are left."
"None?"
"No, there is nothing. Strange."
"Quite strange indeed. Probe her again."
Katara found the will to move away from the prod, growling. She attempted at words, but only growls and whines came from her mouth. A frown crossed her muzzle, growling in irritation. The brothers laughed, and yet again the needle came. She moved, barking. Still, the laughter rang in her ears. She flattened them in an attempt to block them out. The needle feigned attacking from one side, then struck the same place as before, Katara howling, the pain more intense the second time.
"The same thing again?"
"No, look, the color is red. It seemed to hurt her more this time around." The voice of a chuckled swayed in the air around her, toying with her ears. "Now, Katara, let us hit you one more time, then we will stop our needle, okay?" The voice that came from the man was soothing, the singing voice calming her nerves. Her ears pricked up and, without a second thought, she sat her haunches down against the ground, waiting for the needle once more. It came and brought with it terrible, stinging pain. She could feel the gap in her shoulder, blood trailing from the severed ends of the vine. She howled agonizingly, clawing at the ground, her jaw locked tightly together. Through her pain she was unable to make out the words of the brothers, but, as they had told her, the needle retreated back, their sample gathered.

The rush of the frightened crowd had overwhelmed him, pushing him back and down, forcing him to shelter his head as others ran past. He grimaced as people kicked and tripped over him, terrified screams serving as the only audible sound. When nearly the entire formulated crowd had scattered in all directions he was able to press his palms against the cement and stand. He then observed the wreckage. As people had fled, the nearest of the cars had broken windows and dented hoods. People who had, like him, been trampled were now scrambling away in the distance, ducking behind buildings, rushing to their cars or ways of faster transport. He noticed that one particular man held his arm close to him, crimson dripping to the ground, leaving a telling trail. As Samuel looked around a second time, he noticed that several crimson stains dotted the ground, appearing as if people did not go un-injured during the chaotic escape. The stage was still stained in crimson blood, pooled where the woman had fallen, smeared where she had been helped up. He remembered seeing a glimpse of Alex before he had been shoved to the ground. Samuel was convinced Alex had arrived to save the woman and had already succeeded in her goal. He scanned the buildings' heights, wondering where the shooter would have made the shot. The gaping hole looked almost as if it had come upon her straight on, causing him to look behind him. Samuel was confronted then with a towering building, bordering the park, casting its shadow across the trees. He started towards it, when movement caught his eye. A boy, looking the same age as himself, wandering away from the building. He was headed for the park, a barrel of a scoped sniper hopping against his shoulder as he walked casually away. Samuel started towards him quietly, attempting not to startle the boy, to go unnoticed as he slunk behind him. His synchronized steps aided him in his goal, allowing him to scan the features, even if it was only from behind, of the boy before him. His muscles were evident even with the shirt baggy. His hair was black and spiked, ruffled up as if he ran his hand through it hurriedly before running out of the house. As he sketched the features into his mind, he lost his attention for half a second, causing his foot to fall between the boy's steps. Samuel quickly recovered, but the black haired boy stopped abruptly. Samuel froze behind him, allowing several seconds to pass, both stilling their breaths, listening for the other. Slowly fire crept up Sammy's hand, preparing for a fight when the blue eyed boy whipped around, slamming the butt of the gun against his head. He staggered back, putting his arm up, his palm bracing him against the nearest wall. When the boy struck again he hit bare wall, Samuel slipping under the blow, striking against the boy's knee. The black haired kid jumped back, a scowl pulling against his features.

“Who the hell are you?!”

Samuel lowered his hand, grinning. “I'm the one who's going to-” Mid-sentence recognition registered in both the teenagers' eyes. The chizled perfection before Samuel smiled with delight, unlike the distasteful frown on Samuel's face. Without another word, Samuel struck again, using his hand covered with fire to strike, pressing his palm fulling against the boy's chest. The thief slipped back, narrowly dodging the hit, grinning even wider.

“Is that jealousy, I sense?”

Samuel scowled, swiping for the boy's feet, knocking him onto his back. Samuel pressed a foot against his chest, his hand engulfed in raging fire that matched his eyes.

“You're that guy that likes that Kat chick, aren't you?” The pinned boy said, cocky.

“I could say the same thing to you.”

The dry tongue lapped up all the water it could hold, Katara terrified that it would happen to be stolen from her. Her throat burned even with the water soothing it, but then again, her whole body echoed the same feeling. The flames had overtaken every inch of her being, burning her down to her very last, red vined protection. She felt lucky she could even tell if her being was green, blue, or red, due to the thickness of each layer. And, according to the twins, it would take several hours for her to be healed fully-if she was left to her own devices. The twins seemed strangely bent on trying to strengthen each layer and quicken the time for her to heal. The answer to the why was shrouded by fog. With those such plans, she worried if she would ever leave. When her dying thirst had finally been quenched, she pulled away from the large bowl and sat on her haunches. In an attempt to speak, as she had been instructed to before, she barked. The words barely resembled “All done,” sounding instead like a muffled drunk, howling out nonesense. She hoped it would do. The bowl before her was skillfully swept away, pulled out the side of the metal dome, and stuck to the side, where the mechanical arm had its rest. As she began to lay down, she attempted to figure out how long she had been held here by judging how many times she had healed. Nearing the conclusion, however, caused the side of the metal dome to open up like the gates of Heaven. Her ears pricked up and she stood, debating to run blindly from the massive dome to her freedom. Without fully thinking, she bolted from it, her paws hitting the ground hard and diving out of the holding. A whisper than rose to the surface of her mind.

Don't run.

Chapter 14

Chapter 14 Bloodsoaked Gloves

Chapter 14

She pushed through the crowd, watching as the woman fell. Jess was her name, if her memory served right. The woman hit the stage hard on the back of her head, blood pooling on the stage. Screams and panicked people scattered, nearly knocking her off her feet. She kept her head low, dried blood smeared across her face and arms. Black gloves covered her injured hands, her clothes torn under the large jacket she wore. She tore away from the crowd and scrambled onto the stage, kneeling next to the dying woman. She pressed her gloved hands against the wound, crimson covering the sleak exterior. When the bullet was pulled out she tossed it aside, quickly trying to heal the rest of her. The woman looked at her, choking on her shaky breaths.
“You're that girl,” she coughed, more blood against her lips, “the girl. From the school.”
Alex smiled and nodded, “Yes. You're going to be okay. But he may still be here. We need to get out of here.” Jess coughed as Alex wrapped an arm around her, helping her to her feet. Jeff came on stage, supporting Jess from the other side.
“Let's get her to the van.”
“No,” Alex growled, “they'll expect that. We need to get somewhere without high buildings. The park, maybe. Where ever we go, we cannot go by a noticeable car, like your news van there.”
Jeff nodded, leading them across the street, into a chaotic mess of trees and dirt paths. Jess started coughing again, doubling over, slipping out of both Alex and Jeff's arms. She coughed up more blood, grimacing.
“What's wrong with her?” Jeff asked, incredulous. The park was nearly empty, everyone having scattered after the shot. Alex knelt down next to Jess, who looked at her with a strange confusion.
“I just,” she spat up more blood, the movement racking her body. “Exposed you. And you tried to save me. Why?”
“Try!? What does she mean, try!?”
Alex ignored him, pressing her hands against Jess again, desperately trying to pull the poison away from her heart; she could only delay it. She managed to smile under the stress, “You saved me from a mob of reporters. Figured this would make us even.”
Jess touched Alex's face, laying down on her back. “I was wrong about you. I thought you were trying to kill us. I was wrong.”
Alex shook her head, “Hang in there. I just need a little bit more time. I can do this, Jess, just keep fighting it. I can't do this alone!”
“Alone?” She coughed, then smiled, “No. you're not alone.” She moved her hand away from her face, resting it on the stressed, healing hands. “Let it be quick, Alex. Don't delay it.”
Alex stubbornly shook her head, “I won't let you-”
“It's already done. I just have one last question?” The poison seemed into the artieries in Jess' heart, quickly killing all it touched. “Who killed me?”
Alex looked at her, eyes bloodshot. “I don't know,” she whispered. “But you're not dead-”
“Jeff? I love you.”
Jeff grabbed Jess' hand, “I love you, too. I wanted to take you to dinner. I wanted to get down on my knee and marry you, Jess. You have to hang on. You have to!”
“Jeff,” Alex breathed, “she's gone.”
Jeff didn't hear her, continuing to murmur fantasies. “We were going to have children. How ever many you wanted. I've been saving up to buy you a ring. I almost had enough. I was so close.” Tears were streaming down the man's cheeks, but he wouldn't stop even as Alex touched his arm, telling him again, she was gone.
“I was going to get a diamond one. Girl's like diamonds, don't they?” he brought her limp hand to his lips and kissed it. “Don't they, Jess? Don't they?”

Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13: RUNNING


Samuel's feet ached, his eyes and throat burned with the needles in the cold of the night air. Being a runner on track, he managed to make some distance between him and his house. The voice, however, still alluded him. Crossing gingerly the street before him, his breath labored and his sights set on one place, he pulled out an energy bar from the bag upon his back and bit into the foul tasting, artificial food made to help him go further, faster. His bundled fist raked against the front door.
“Kat?”
The answer was only the “woosh” of the cool night wind.
“Katara? Hey, I'm sorry to bother you but I need to talk.” He knocked again.
The only answer was the mocking silence.
“Kat?”
He reached for the knob and tried it, wedging his elbow up against the door and pushing against it with all his might.
He was shocked when he found himself tumble to the unforgiving ground, the door easily swinging open. He looked around, his eyes adjusting to the darkness. He got up quickly, expecting parents to come down with a gun-or worse, without one.
But the house just moaned as it shifted, no footsteps, no other movement but his own, echoing around the house.
“Uh, Kat?” he breathed, his hand lighting up in a bright blue, illuminating the path before him. He walked slowly, cautiously, his feet crutching against glass. He looked down, kneeling and holding the engulfed hand of flame near the glass. It glittered, glistening with fresh blood atop it. He stood, his flame going out in smoke as he crossed carefully around the house in which he had never ventured into before. He crossed through the small hallway that reached from the doorway where tables had once stood proud but were now laid broken and beaten, scattered across the floor. As he continued cautiously, his foot landed on something once more, the cracking of what sound like snow resinating around the air. He froze, slowly lifting his boot and pulling it back. Again he kneeled, a small flame flickering atop his finger as he examined what he had further broken. In the picture there was a young girl of two, with strikingly brilliant violet eyes and hazel hair, her thumb stuck in her mouth as her large, innocent eyes stared at Samuel. She was situated between a man in his twenties, tall, muscular, a small, shaggy mustache under his nose, mimicking the girl's hair color, with blue eyes that watched Samuel knowing. A woman who was as well in her twenties, with beautiful blonde curls flowing onto her shoulders, with blue eyes like the man next to her, was smiling pleasantly. He turned the frame over, examining the words written in elegant cursive: “Katara, age two.” Shocked, he turned to look at the picture again, staring into those violet eyes. The gears within his mind ground together, pulling those violet eyes into place upon Katara's now aged face. The questions found their answer.
With his teeth clenched, he pulled the picture out from the frame, folded it, and placed it in his back pocket. He stood and in a few short seconds he took a left from the hallway and found himself going upstairs. Soft voices came from a room to the right off the large, square platform he was standing in. He slowly moved closer and pressed his ear to the wall.
“..I know that. It's just that boss said-”
“You actually think she's ganna miss a picture she can't see? I mean, c'mon. Besides, he said take everything of value in some way or another. How could this be of value to her?”
“Alright. I guess that's true.”
“Good, now—oooh, what do we have here?”
“The girl owns guns!?”
“And knives by the looks of it.”
“That doesn't make any sense. How could she-”
The voices suddenly cut off, silence haunting every corner. Sammy instinctively ducked, slowly, quietly. Gun fire went off, hitting the wall and tearing right through it, over Sammy's head. The door flew open, Sammy shooting up his arm, and the man suddenly being engulfed in crimson fire. He dropped his gun and ran screaming, patting his arms, dropping to his knees, and rolling around, trying to put it out. Samuel stood quickly then, turning tail and jumping to the floor beneath the stairs, a man shouting over the screaming and firing wildly. He came to the stairs and shot again, nicking the edge of Samuel's left shoulder as he ran for the door. Glass shattered beneath his feet and he skidded to the right, and headed from the house, the bag on his back suddenly seeming a lot heavier.


Night pulled a cloak over the running form, the only thing lighting his way being the flickering street lights. The voice rang in his head, “Then don't ask.” His own kin was dealing him. Who could he trust now? He ducked under a bridge, rain starting to sprinkle the ground around him. He pulled his knees close, trying to contain as much warmth as he possibly could. He shivered; he wanted nothing more than to go home, slip under the covers and fall asleep under a roof. He breathed out a sigh, the frosty air showing how warm his breath was against the chilled air around him. He closed his eyes, praying she was safe. Praying, that somehow, he would wake up to find this all a dream.


“Jess. Jess, wake up!” A tug shook the woman awake. She blinked, opening her eyes, finding a blinding light shinning directly into them. She winced, glancing away. “Where am I?” She managed.
“She'll have some minor memory loss. She'll get it back, however.” The voice came to her right, Jess sorely turning her head and peering into the light. A bald man stood next to her, a clipboard in hand. He held up his hand, “How many fingers am I holding up?”
“Three.” She grumbled.
The doctor nodded, “Good. She should stay here for another-”
“No, we need to leave today.”
“You woke a while ago, you are free to leave. But she-”
“No. We leave as soon as she can stand.”
The bald man shook his head, handing Jeff his card, “Just in case.”
“We won't need it. You're free to go.”
The doctor sighed, turning and walking out. Jess looked around, finding herself in a small room, laying on a table. “Jeff? What happened?”
“You'll remember soon enough. We need to go. C'mon, can you stand?”
She groaned, slowly, tenderly sitting up. The room spun around her and she quickly shut her eyes, holding her head.
“The room's spinning.”
“It'll pass. It's not safe here. We need to leave.”
Jess looked at him, squinting in the harsh light. “Why?”
“You'll remember.”
“I want to know now. I'm not coming otherwise.”
“I'll tell you-”
“Now.”
“It's not safe now!” He shot back, his patience crumbling. “Listen, if I tell you and someone else hears, we'll be up to our noses in crap.” He grabbed her shoulders, “Jess, we need to leave. Right now. The vans outside, I can help you out there. Please, we need to go.”
Jess looked into his frightened eyes, then slowly put her feet to the ground. Jeff grabbed her waist to support her, her legs failing to hold her weight. She wrapped her arms around him, managing not to fall. She tried again, Jeff making sure she didn't fall, and managed to get her legs to hold her. They slowly made their way out of the room. Once they stepped foot out of the room Jess realized she was only wearing a plastic sheet over her, covering her front and back in a bag-like manor.
“Jeff, I need-”
“There's clothes in the van. You can get dressed in there.”
“How come you're not in one of these?”
“I had time to get dressed.” He smiled at her, then quickened their pace, Jess barely able to move her numb legs fast enough. They pushed past the doors of the hospital and walked outside to where the van was waiting. “Daily News” was printed in bright colors on the side, the morning sun reflecting off the letters, Jeff opening the back of the van and helping her get inside.
“Get dressed.” Then he shut them just as quickly as she had been pushed in. She quickly pulled her clothes on, thorwing the plastic garb off of her.
Pain dug its fangs into her mind. Needles from every direction slipped past her hard skull and dug into the fabric of her brain. Slowly at first the vicious Pain touched her mind, then dug its tendrils of Agony through every curve, under every layer, digging its way to her memories and savagely throwing them to the back of her eyes. She screamed, crumbling to her knees as the images burned her eyes. The school, then pictures, the lesson plans, the principal and those terrible dogs attacking her. Then he walked to them, threatened them if they were to even utter a word of the school, then all went black. The Pain receded. She opened her eyes, the doors having been thrown open, Jeff trying to get her attention.
“Dear God, are you okay?”
“I remember. I remember,” she repeated, staring at her hands. She looked at him, “I remember.”
He smiled slightly, “Wonderful way to get it back. C'mon, get in the front and let's get out of this blasted town.”
He helped her down, Jess staring at him. “Leave? No, we can't leave. We have to tell someone.”
“Are you insane?! You remember what he said! We're leaving!”
“No. What's he going to do? Shoot us as we stand in front of hundreds, no, thousands of people, telling them the truth?”
“We don't have any documents! Anything to prove what we say!”
“We don't need it. All we have to do is bring up some suspicion. They won't dare to move if we broadcast live.”
“Live? Jess, you must have been harder than I thought. We'd lose what's left of our jobs!”
Jess slapped him, glaring. “So you expect me to let these beasts continue living with us?! You expect me to lie down as they train to conquer us!? No, Jeff, with or without you I'm doing this.”
Jeff looked at her in shock, touching where the red mark was beginning to grow. “You're insane. Get in the car.”
“Jeff, I'm-”
He headed to the drivers seat, shouting over his shoulder, “So where's the busiest place in this God-Forsaken town?”

Sammy walked along main street, rubbing his eyes. He yawned and stretched; not one of his favorite places to sleep, but he managed to get some sleep nonetheless. He happened to glance over into the main park, watching as someone stood up on the stage used for wandering performers. He recognized her from the news his parents would watch every morning, her camera man off stage and getting the camera ready. A slight rustle made him look down, his foot having stepped right onto a newspaper. He stepped off it and was going to continue walking when a picture caught his eye. Blurred pictures of beasts flying in the sky, massive wingspans and terrible, large eyes. The title read, “Aliens or Hoax?” A shiver ran down his spine; was someone slipping? How were they to explain this one? He glanced at the title of the news printer, relieaved to find it being the less reliable paper, always saying how aliens had come to town, how the dead would soon walk. He shook his head, beginning to walk again.
“Attention! Everyone, please, stop and listen to me for just a moment if you will.”
Samuel stopped, looking at her once more. After all, where else did he have to go? A few others had the same idea and stopped to look a the woman on the raised stage. The camera was rolling and she held a microphone to her lips to make sure everyone could hear.
“I have been giving you all the daily news for a long while now, some would say too long.” That collected a few laughs and more people gathered. Sammy walked up closer as the crowd began to grow, wanting to hear. She smiled at them, then continued, “I was sent the school in where the shootings happened. As we waited to film we walked around inside. What we found was disturbing and some of the more weak-hearted may wish to leave.” The taunt did as she expected, gathering more people, Sammy pressing against the stage as more and more people crowded around. Her face remained serious, “You've all seen or heard of these wild beasts running around-”
“I was hit by one!” A woman called, sounding terrified. A few shouted for her to shut up, but she ignored them. “It was big and green, thousands upon thousands of vines making it up!”
Samuel shivered, more people shouting for her to shut up. He wanted to leave, feeling uncomfortable in the large crowd, but no one moved as he tried to push past them.
“Don't silence her,” the woman said, looking at the masses of faces. “The school harbors this strange things. It teaches them to fight, to avoid being killed.”
Grumbles of disbeliefs rang and a few people began to leave.
“Wait! I was attacked by one. I've been off the air, in the hospital because of what they did to me! We saw them, the papers, the machines they train against, pictures even! What the lady says is-”
A shot rang through the crowd. Jess looked down at her chest, touching the gaping wounds next to her heart. Blood covered her hands, sprayed against the stage. “Jess!” Jeff shouted, throwing down the camera and running towards her. Jess looked around, staring at the terrified, horrified faces. She caught one face more knowing than any other. His blue eyes stared at her with horror, but understanding. He knew. The blood trailed down her shirt, Jess pitching backwards.

Chapter 12 (redone)

CHAPTER 12: CAUGHT

The snap resonated throughout the empty theatre. A chair placed itself in the center of her back, pushing it up quickly, breaking her back nearly instantly. Her breath came in sharp, painful gasps. She closed her eyes, remembering the kiss once more. How similar both instances were. She turned her head up and screamed, blood staining her lips as it rose in the air, only to fall back down upon her face. Her body quickly reacted, the change taking place first in her bones. The pain ripped at her very soul as the bone broke into vines, winding together. The vicious, loving vines pushed their way through her body, over taking every inch. Soon it was possible to move, Katara turning onto her stomach and pushing up and away. She scurried her large frame out of the alley of seats, into the pathways to break the chairs apart. Another wolf-like creature was upon the balcony, where she had been moments before. Horns perched up from behind its ears, following the path of its snout. It barked out orders to the creatures in the air, and Kat, figuring it was time to leave, turned tail and thew herself through the doors. Her shoulder threw the doors open with enough momentum to land her atop a woman, who screamed, beating Katara with her purse. Kat quickly pulled herself away and swatted her nose. Vines upon her back snapped suddenly, a long, curved blade ripping through them with such ease. Katara howled, grimacing, the creature who attacked from the sky flying to its sanctity above the ground. She staggered forward, the woman she had fell on quickly getting to her feet, running, screaming, protecting her head. Vines regrew and attached together once more upon Kat's back. Her ears pricked up, her senses screaming. She leapt away, the other wolf-like creature jerking its horns into the air, attempting to catch her mid-leap. She landed several feet away, lips curled up to show off gleaming white teeth. The wolf before her pulled its lips up to reveal a smug smirk, creatures from the air screeching, reminding Katara she had to move. She darted away, the beast behind her howling, then pursuing her. Katara spanned out her senses, trying to figure out how long the beast's strides were; maybe she could out-run him. She pressed on, attempting to avoid creatures in the air by skidding into an alleyway, narrow enough to make her pursuer slam into the wall upon his left shoulder. He scowled, running after her as a mess of bodies slid into on another as they followed her. The creatures were small in body, wings expanding from their small frames and crowding the sky. Small, two fingered arms were perched at the center of their bodies, slightly larger legs with two toes landing themselves at the end of the ribcage, a tail branching out between them. A large, curved knife was sharped to a deadly point at the end of each tail, large, circular mouths with teeth lining every angle let out screams as more of them landed upon the other. Their eyes were large and took up most of their faces, and were curved in the shape of a piece of rice. Their numbers hit twenty before they managed to untangle themselves from one another and pushed forward after her. Katara turned a corner, jumping up and gripping the ladder of an apartment complex. The metal against her teeth screamed within her head, but it came loose and fell nonetheless. Her paws broke off and pushed her up through the small space, Katara clambering for the top of the roof. She heard screams from within opened windows, people scurrying their children away from the windows. The screeching beasts flew along side her, following her hurried path. She clawed her way to the roof, rewarded with bombardment of attacks from the sky. Suddenly, just as she was to leap off to the city below, the horned beast came to, growling and snapping at the sky. The attacks stopped, Katara at the edge of the building. Not much further till she could make it to the park. The park had trees, if she made it there, she could be safe from the sky. One leap off the building would give her enough distance to be at the park's border. The beast before her grinned at her, “Katara. Why are you running?” It's voice was raspy, deep. Kat scowled, her ears going back, a growl crawling from her jaws. The beast before her let out something between a cough and a laugh, the action shaking his body.
“Katara, you have nothing to fear from me. Don't you remember? I kissed you. Doesn't that mean anything to you?”
Katara took a step back as he approached but found her back paw hit bare air, Katara quickly bringing her foot back. He noticed and used the little space to his advantage, his face nearly against hers, both of them sharing the same breathing space. Suddenly Katara barked, snapping at his snout, blood painting her lips. Jerry pulled back, howling in pain, blood trailing down his nose, into his mouth. He glared at her, jaw set, growls exchanged between the blind and the vicious.
“Is that what you think of me now, Katara? Do you hate me so much that you'd cause me pain?”
Katara's back paw split into many vines, gripping the window below, giving her more space to back up. She didn't say anything, the growl still breaking her composure. He grinned, giving the odd laugh once more. “You can't speak in this form, can you? Shame. Shame, girl. I guess you're screams will have to do.” Instantly he leapt at her, and Kat, stuck in shock, managed to get thrown off the building, Jerry's jaws deep in her neck. Jerry clung to her neck, his paws against her chest, a grin evident on his face. Katara howled a pain struck howl, her voice barely making it out with Jerry's teeth deep in her neck. Her vines then split, her side ripping open, her tail's vines sharpening. Then, all at once, her body retaliated without her consent, the vines nearest to Jerry cutting through muscle and bone alike, piercing directly through him. Jerry's eyes widened, his jaw coming loose, frantic eyes scanning his body as he fell away from her, her vines recoiling. They both hit the ground but only one snap resonated loudly. Katara stood on her feet, the vines soaking up the impact, recoiling back into paws. Her senses ran over Jerry's body as he struggled to stand. Several holes had made themselves through his body, though none of them kept him off his feet. A gaping hole bled in each leg, several lined along his spine. He spat blood, managing a grin, Kat stepping back in horror.
“Didn't think you had that in you.” He spat, then howled, attacks from the sky bombarding her once more. As she turned and ran, Jerry managed to make it in front of her, his speed incredible. He catered one leg more, but it didn't hinder his speed. Kat stopped short, nearly hitting him, stepping back. He grinned, “You're still coming with us.”
The cowards in the sky then dropped down upon her once more, gripping her legs, wrapping her snout shut in several tails, closing up her way of breathing. They pulled her slowly off the ground, her only way of sight flickering off. She wished she knew how to separate her vines into violent weapons like she did moments before, but with little oxygen making its way to her lungs, she could barely even stay conscious.

****

Samuel sat in the tree, his legs up on the hard branch, his blonde hair ruffled and teased by the slight breeze. His back was leaning against the trunk of the tree and he was, of course, playing with fire. He opened his hand and let the fire travel across his fingers and up his arm so it sat inches away from his shoulder. He had already burnt his shirt, thus causing it to be tossed to the ground below. At the thought of it, he glanced down, his blue eyes searching over the yard to where it had landed. The red shirt was now covered in splotches of black as if he had painted and the words that were at one point clear as the moon in the starry sky, were now unreadable completely. He spied a car heading down the street towards his house, his flame, now unattended, spreading up his shoulder and perching as a bird. He blinked and closed his fist, the fire vanishing in a puff of foul smelling smoke, smelling much like burning skin. He leaned forward, his back arching and his muscles tensing with the movement. Soreness still took him from the last run in of training with Captain. The black, sports Porsche had the windows down and rode low to the ground, hugging it tightly with thin tires and sending a thick, violent beat flowing from it. It pulled smoothly onto the gravel of his farm house, cracking the small rocks and popping a few under the tires. The engine died down and the boy with a white jacket hood pulled up over his greasy, brown hair that held a bang that covered one eye, honked the horn and shouted at Samuel to get off the tree and get on a bloody shirt. The kid in the passenger seat laughed and made a teasing joke the was awarded by a laugh from the entire car. He leapt from the tree, his legs bending to take the pressure and spread it, then picked up his burnt shirt and slipped it on.
“You can't put that piece of crap on!” Shouted the asian behind the wheel, shaking his hooded head.
“Why not? Mom, I'm leaving!” He walked up next to the car and the passenger got out, pulled the seat forward, and Samuel slid into the middle seat. The passenger then got back onto the leather seats holding the heat from the sun and warming quickly when a Fotia, the official name for walking flamethrowers, settled into the back seat. The asian shrugged and laughed, “Your loss, Sammy boy. None of the girls'll go for you if you wear that.”
Samuel shrugged, exchanging hellos to the black kid next to him of strong, bulky build, a fighter, or Stratiotes, the boy to the other side of him, olive skinned with large wings now folded into the crooks in his back, an Adler, and the passenger, a pale, black haired kid, part of the few ice-wielders, or Pagos. Together they formed an odd looking group of all different specialties, all different colors, and all different secrets.
“Nah,” the Pagos teased, “he only needs to impress one girl, isn't that right, Sammy?” The Pagos let the last word slip into a high pitched 'girl's' voice, smirking wickedly. Samuel rolled his eyes, “It ain't like that, Nyne.”
“You wish it was!” The driver pitched in, looking over his shoulder and backing up steadily. Samuel didn't respond and just grinned and shrugged. The road become cracked pavement instead of gravel and they slipped off towards the town. Samuel's mother waved goodbye from the wooden porch, smiling kindly and Samuel smiled back, rewarding her with a slight wave. The boys around him thought nothing of it and the ride was mostly silent as they drove the few minutes back into the city limits.
“What's this one about?”
“It's bout us, Sammy. It's like Sky High, except better.”
“And who told you that, Aros?”
The asian kid shrugged and smirked, “Internet helps a ton.”
The Adler glanced at his watch and raised an eyebrow, “Man, we're twenty minutes early. What the hell are we doing till then?”
“Beat someone up?” Jokingly added by the gruff voice of the Stratiotes.
“Oh? Like who? This place is a ghost town.” Nyne inputed. They pulled smoothly into the theater parking lot, coming to a stop and Aros killing the engine.
“C'mon, let me out, it's cramped in here. Why couldn't Graves just fly us over?” Samuel said, grinning over at the Adler who gave him a look, “Ha-ha. Very funny.” Sammy grinned and shrugged. He motioned for Nyne to move but he didn't. Instead he twisted in his seat and looked back at Sammy.
“Why would you fall for a blind girl?”
Samuel stared at him, his blue eyes blazing and flickering a warning. Then they narrowed, the Pagos' lips twitching at the corners.
“She's an amazing person. Let me out.”
“But she's blind. She can't even see you. How's she supposed to kiss you?”
Sammy glared at him, “Don't make fun of her.”
The car had went silent, fire and ice raging war against each other in the air. Aros broke in, “Alright, um, let's get out of the car, huh?”
The other boys quickly agreed, Aros opening his door and pulling the seat forward for the Adler to get out, and all but pulled Samuel out from the glare that held poison he was aiming at Nyne. Nyne then got out his side and pulled the seat forward for the soldier to get out. The stood and stretched, shut and locked the doors in the empty lot, the massive theater towering up into the sky directly ahead of them. They headed to the doors when Nyne glanced over at Samuel.
“How you supposed to-”
Sammy knew the sick remark he was about to make, along with the other boys, wincing, expecting the remark. But Samuel's fist shut Nyne up real fast.
“Don't you ever talk about her like that you sick jerk.” he snarled, his eyes vicious and narrowed, the smell of burning flesh wafering into the air. Nyne rubbed his jaw and looked at Samuel, “Ouch. Would your parents even agree? Do your parents even know?”
Samuel snarled as Nyne cocked his head and crossed his arms. “They don't, do they? What are they ganna say when you get a blind girl pregnant, hm?”
“That's enough!” the soldier snarled, moving to come between them. Nyne moved his hand and ice swirled up the legs of the teen, freezing him to the spot. Samuel took a step forward, “I would never. I am not some jacked up jerk who thinks of girls like that. Get the hell outta my face.”
“Aren't you though? C'mon, don't tell me-”
“I said shut up!” Sammy collided with the boy, fire engulfing his hands and burning through Nyne's clothing, the ice-boy shooting ice against Samuel's chest. Samuel pulled back, the soldier breaking through the ice and putting himself between the two of them.
“Knock it off. Now.”
Nyne smirked at Samuel, “Does she even like you back?”
Samuel turned away slowly. “I'm going home.”
Nyne laughed, “You're pathetic.” Within that instant Samuel turned on his heel, his hand ablaze, a long, whip-of-flame entangled in his hand. He brought it down against Nyne, and the soldier, understanding Samuel's rage, stepped back. Nyne shot ice to dull the edge of the fire, but fueled by rage, Sammy pushed closer, his fist colliding with Nyne's head, knocking him out cold.
He turned and started walking, no one arguing. As Samuel turned a corner he spied the boys pulling Nyne off into some bush and taking to the car. They pulled up beside him.
“Get in,” Aros said. He gratefully accepted the front seat.
“What that jerk said was nasty.”
“Yeah.” Sammy replied, looking out the window. He tried not to think about what Nyne had said, focusing his thoughts else where. They pulled up silently around the corner, stopping at the beginning of the gravel road.
“Sorry Sammy. Truly am.”
“Thanks for the ride.” Samuel pushed his door, got out, and slammed it shut more violently than necessary, walking down the street to his home. The black Porsche flipped around and went back to town.
Samuel walked up to his house, hesitated on going on the steps, then headed around the back, wanting to slip quietly into his room. No need to make a bigger issue than there already was, he figured. He walked around the small, wooden, white painted house. The paint was peeling away and the gutters were filling from the large oaks and pines surrounding them. Horses neighed and pawed the ground when the saw him coming, but he put his finger to his lips and the beauties quieted. He ducked under the window when he caught his name from an strangely familiar voice.
“...Samuel's well being is resting on this, Susan.”
“But to hurt that girl? We could never ask him to do it.”
“Then don't ask,” the forceful voice growled.

Inserted Chapter (before chapter 12)

Inserted Chapter~

In the moments in which she fell, time seemed to slow. She reached for the balcony with no avail. Memories flashed through her mind's eye. The moment in which she came home. She closed her eyes in a desperate attempt not to remember, but it rushed upon her ever so quickly.
Katara walked up the steps to her home, brow furrowed as she sensed the door's hinges broken. The door swung lifelessly on the slight hinge it still embraced, swaying with every breath the wind breathed. She slowly walked up on the porch, touching the door. Something wet was upon it and she pushed it open even more. The hinge snapped, the door fell to the floor and leaned against the wall. Glass was broken and the small table by the door which held pictures was now overturned, pictures flung to all ends of the house. She walked carefully further, a smell flooding her nose much like a copper. She clamped her hands over her nose and mouth, the smell of blood overpowering.
“Mom? Dad?” she called, with no response. She started to panic, walking quicker through the house now. She rushed through the kitchen, the living room, finding the furniture ripped, pictures broken, utensils thrown through the house in places which they did not belong. She started to head up the stairs and froze. They were slung over the bed like useless toys, discarded. Dad lay before mom, as if he a tried to protect her. A picture was broken before them, crushed by an angered foot. The window was open, but she could go no further. She sat on the stairs, head in her hands, her senses reading the note engraved on the wall.
Do Not Trust The Man You Trust The Most

Katara now wondered exactly who that meant. She wished whoever had written the note would have been more clear. She saw Jerry look over the balcany, his eyes blood-shot, reaching down to grab her. His hand touched her foot but did not grip. She slipped through his fingers.

“Hey, you're Katara, right?”
Kat looked up, her face blank, a brow cocking over her sash. “Depends.”
The girl laughed, “Well, I'm Alex. I sit next to-oh, right, sorry, I guess you wouldn't know that. But anyways, I'm in most of your classes.”
Kat let out a weak laugh. “Oh, cool.” She continued gathering books from her locker, put down on the page in brail.
“Do you actually need books?” Alex inquired as Kat shut her locker, Alex's arms crossed, a question in her voice.
“Yes.” Kat groaned, sighing. “I'm going to class.”
“Oh, right, I'll come too.” Alex grabbed her bag and ran to Kat's side. “Not much of a talker are you?”
Kat coughed, shaking her head and shrugging. Alex laughed, nudging her, “Hey, you wanna go hang this weekend?”
Kat cocked a brow, stopping and facing Alex. “What?”
Alex stopped as well and shrugged, “Well, ya know, there's a park over by my house. I could come get you after school and we could chill.”
Kat couldn't speak for a moment, then managed, “Why me?”
Alex smiled broadly, “Why not you? You seem all broody and moody, thought I'd cheer you up some!”
Kat grinned, managing a laugh, “Sounds cool. Get back to me on times and stuff, alright?”

Kat grimaced, glancing over her shoulder to see the oncoming chairs and unwelcoming floor. She willed herself to changed, but time was against her. She was falling to fast and the change would take too long.

“Katara, focus, you need to remember how you change.”
“Why? Is someone trying to kill me, again?” She crossed her arms, groaning. “My head's killing me. Can I get advil?”
The man sighed, passed her a glass of water and advil to accompany it. “Katara, all shape-shifters must know how to change.”
“Yeah? Then how come the rest of my class doesn't know how yet either?”
“Katara, they don't even know what they can change into yet! You however, do. Your life is also at danger. You need to be able to protect yourself. Again.”
Katara gave him her empty glass, focusing on the feeling in which she's changed before. The anger, fear. She felt an overwhelming sense of her blind sight overtake her, allowing her to see further than she had before. She felt things crawl within her skin, breaking through it, covering her skin-or what was left of it. Her legs collapsed, snapping backwards, her fingers molding together, forming a small paw. A tail broke her skin, looser vines making it up, swinging back and forth. Her ears pointed and shifted up on her head, her face elongated, fangs lined her gums. Her sash remained behind her ears, as tight, if not tighter, than before. She growled, foggy knowledge flooding her mind. She faced the man, vines bristling, moving unsettling upon her body. She barked and the man grinned and clapped, “Very good. Now change back.”
Inserted Chapter 2

“Kat? Katara!?” Jerry shouted, the massive crowd hindering his sight. He rushed through the crowd, pushing past masses of people. He spotted her brown hair and her thin frame, standing near a shooting range. She was facing the range, the man, a large, slobbish man, looking awkward with her blind composure. Jerry came next to her, holding a swirled mess of cotton candy with a handle too tiny to do any real good. He touched the small of her back, his breath leaving him as if he had held it when he couldn't find her. She turned her face in his direction, the smooth, brown sash covering her eyes mingling with her hair, making the two almost indistinguishable. She smiled at him, “A shooting range, right?” She turned and faced the direction of the target, the man, dirtied with his poor eating habits, eyeing the blind girl. She sighed, the smile never leaving her lips. “I wish I could play. Bet I could beat any boy here!” She laughed, resting her elbows on the counter of the stall, her chin in her hands. Jerry chuckled, “You know, you win prizes if you hit the target.”
She grinned, “You know, I would be rolling my eyes. I know that.” She chuckled, shaking her head. Jerry shrugged, taking a bite of the sticky mess in a cone. He placed the candy near her lips and she recoiled, causing him to laugh. “It's not poisonous.”
She grinned, shaking her head, groping for the handle and finding his hand instead. He carefully slipped the handle into her hands before a blush could betray them both. She cautiously placed it against her lips and took a bite, making a face.
“Why's that so sticky?” She wiped her mouth on her sleeve, chuckling, “Cotton candy, am I right?”
“We have a winner! You should really get a prize, you've gotten good at this guessing game.” He smirked and she shook her head, taking another bite.
“Hey, don't eat it all!”
“Oh, you don't need it.”
He reached to swat it away from her, but she skillfully pulled away, grinning as he reached past her, his face near hers.
Katara could smell his musk, feel his breath against her face. Just as he almost gripped the cotton candy she switched hands, smirking. “C'mon, aren't you supposed to be nice to a girl? Go win me something!”
“Oh, win it yourself! I payed for that!”
“Well, you're a gentleman.”
The crowd pushed around them, ignoring the two teenagers who were barely touching noses, Jerry reaching behind her to try and get the beloved food. Silence pressed over the two teens, Jerry looking at her with a strange gleam in his eye. Katara got nervous, feeling his shifting weight in his feet. He was no longer trying to reach for the candy, but something entirely different. Before she could gather her thoughts on such an oncoming advance, the man behind the stall grunted.
“Do your lovey dovey stuff away from my stall. You're scaring away my costumers!”
Katara cleared her throat and shoved the candy back into his chest. He fell back on his heels, gripping the candy, smiling at her, if a bit sheepishly. He, too, cleared his throat.
“Well. Uhm. There's a sweet roller coaster over here. C'mon, let's go.”
He took her hand in his and she felt his warmth travel up her arm, adding to the bright red wave against her cheeks. He was facing away, luckily for her, allowing her to rid herself of such a humiliating emotion. He pulled her strongly through the crowds, offering the cotton candy mess to her after nearly every bite. After passing the large, rushing crowd towards the food stands he brought her up next to him, an arm around her waist. She swallowed hard, was she okay with this?
“Katara,” Jerry started, interrupting Kat's thoughts, “you know, this is the most fun I've had in a while.” He looked over at her, a small smile on his lips. “All thanks to you, Katara. We should do this again sometime.”
Katara smiled up at him, unable to hide the blush that bombarded her with such fierceness; she found her face ablaze. “Well, wise guy, we've got a date for that play you're taking me too.”
“Date?” he cocked a brow, his smile growing. Kat quickly looked away, clearing her throat. She realized they were still holding hands and her face blushed brighter.
“Well-I mean-I guess I-”
He squeezed her hand and turned her towards him. Her face remained straight; her ability to see him without staring up at his face gave her no reason to tilt her head upwards. He, however, took her chin between his thumb and forefinger, the cotton candy discarded. She swallowed, “Hey, what if I wanted the rest of that?” Her voice was small.
“I can get you more later,” he breathed, his forehead against hers. Both hearts bet as one, Katara unable to find the will to detach herself. What of Sammy? What about-
The kiss was something she knew was coming, but shocked her all the same. His lips were tender; quickly questions wove into her mind. How was she supposed to react? Wrap her arms around him? Or was he supposed to do that? How did she tilt her head, how was she supposed to kiss back? Before any of the questions were answered he pulled away, both too stunned to say a word. Kat smiled, “So, that roller coaster?”

Lies, breathed the thoughts within her mind. All of them. Lies.