The Daughter Of The Sea God

One Word. Misleading.

Unedited

~~~~~~~~


That was not the only store we shoplifted at. I dragged them to a Macy's and Forever 21. They were not happy sitting through four hours of fashion shows, and denied me of going to Guess or H&M. They did however buy a box and gauze and bandages. Quite a few boxes.

To be honest, I didn't really care where they wanted to go. I had just found out that John had this amazing power and that they'd been doing this for God knows how long. I, on the other hand, I've had to settle for heart-pounding police car chases just to sneak out one dress. Did I feel guilty about it? Kinda yeah, but on the other hand, I was sure that the stores could have spared a dollar or two. More like one hundred dollars or two, but they were pretty well known. I figured that it wouldn't put such a huge dent in business or finances. It was a little more difficult to sneak stuff out of Sephora. They didn't have dressing rooms.

I'd forgotten how to apply eyeliner and all that, but it wasn't hard to figure out using foundation and concealer to hide my hideous under eye bags. We managed to sneak into a handicap washroom and we changed there. Awkward? Very much. I had them bring a towel in just so I could cover up. Unfortunately, pulling on a pair of jeans was too painful so I had to settle for the skirt that wasn't quite appropriate for this windy day in wherever we were.

"I'm hungry." John complains as we sink down into food court chairs.

"Yeah, and I'm tired." Jason chimes in.

"My knee hurts, my hand hurts, I'm thirsty, and I told you, if you don't let me apply the concealer to your faces, someone will notice the black eyes! Anyways, I thought you said John was going get food." I retort.

"And whose fault was the black eyes?" Jason mutters.

I ignore him. It wasn't like John's powers were going to suddenly disappear. Apparently,-I wasn't sure if it was actually a gift he inherited from Hermes, or just because of his looks-he had this strange ability to trick the food vendors into giving us food. But only if the workers were female. All he did was wink and smile and them and they'd come out with heaping trays minutes later. Apparently. But then, again the things the brag about range from controlling the earth's movement, to creating it. Why not this?

John suddenly laughs. "How did no one notice the black eyes?"

I have to think about this and realize he's right. Not a single person commented on them. Not even after we were properly dressed and shoes were put on our feet.

"They probably just think she's a slut who cheated on us, and was sleeping with both of us. Then we got in a fight." Jason shrugs.

I can't help myself. I push him so hard he topples over. Chair and all. It causes quite a commotion. Not that I care. People already think we're freaks, why not freakier? Anyways, it's too funny not to laugh. Especially since he act so tough and rugged and all it takes a push to knock him over.

He sits up, spluttering and shoots me a murderous glare when he finally regains his balance. In an attempt to maintain his dignity-or perhaps to embarrass himself further-, he throws his arm around my shoulder and throws out a cocky smile in the direction of one particular blond staring at him. This is practically an invitation to shove him away and maneuver myself around so John's arm slips around me. Jason seems to be at a loss of actions for a moment. Then he just turns to Ms. Blondie and mouths, "Girlfriends." John doesn't seem to mind this and smiles triumphantly at Jason. Then he turns to the girl and mouths, "Girlfriends." I swear, if these two didn't have the looks of a god, they wouldn't even be able to get girls to look at them. Not only are they arrogant and cocky, but they've got the brains of a clam. In fact, no. I've seen clams smarter than these two. I slap him away and glare.

"Thanks for making me look like a slut." I snap.

"What?" he shrugs. "You make a sexy slut."

I slap him. Who cares we're in a public mall? He deserved it. Anyways, if Jason could take the tumble, he should be able to take the slap. Though I can't say I'm surprised when he doesn't.

"My cheek!" he wails. "You bruised my beautiful cheek!"

I know he doesn't really care and he's just doing this to get attention, but he's doing an awfully good job of it. This seems to be his only goal in life. Other than sleeping around that is, is attracting attention. In the time I've spent with them so far, they always have to be the center of attention. The only time it really works out is when we get separated so they aren't hogging the spotlight of mortally embarrassing themselves.

"I couldn't care less. Anyways, you can't call me a slut without calling yourself a man-whore." I state in frustration.

I watch his eyebrows shoot up. He's saying something, but I don't bother to listen. All I can think is if he raised his eyebrows a little higher, I was willing to bet that they would disappear into his hair. Weird, I know. It's what happens when you have nothing better to do with your life. Finally, John pokes me.

"Who are you calling a man-whore?" he pouts.

"Oops, sorry; I meant Jason. He's the only man I see around here."

"Riiiggghtt." John grins. "Because I'm your boyfriend." Then he sneaks a look at the blond out of the corner of his eyes. "Right girlfriend?"

"Wrong dumbass." I say loudly enough so she'll hear.

We all watch for her reaction. This must seem like a soap opera or some reality tv thing to the onlookers. I bet they're looking to see if there are any hidden cameras in the mall. However, Girl Blondie is oblivious to everything that's going on. She's staring at a hunched figure all the way across the room. Who, or what it is, I don't even want to know. Then the figure moves and I have to contain a gasp. It is a person. To be specific, a guy. A really, really, really hot guy. The first thought that pops into my head, is: he's an A&F model. He catches Girl Blondie looking and he winks at her. She giggles and twirls her hair. This is probably just the two dolts sitting beside me rubbing off on me, but I feel a sudden urge to steal his attention of her. I flip my hair and put on my best look-at-me vibe. Which truthfully, isn't much. Nonetheless, it works and his attention is diverted. And naturally, that's when everything goes wrong.

The instant I meet his glassy sea-green eyes, I can practically feel myself melting. He flashes me a killer watt smile and the best I can do is return a meek one. Since when do I, the girl player of players, blush when guys look at me? Truthfully, not all of the look like this, but there's something about his aura that makes him naturally inviting.

"Jess?" John pokes me.

I can't bear to look away from the gorgeous boy smiling at me. His smile gets bigger and bigger. At first I think it's because of Jason and John, who, with my peripheral vision, can see that they are both scowling. Really scowling. I however, couldn't care less. It's not like they control my love life. And I'm not exactly easy, so I don't go around sleeping with strangers. In my case, I just like playing them. It's another unfortunate habit that comes from having been alone with nothing to do for so long. I was sure that if this was another one of those stupid love stories, I'd meet some guy who would come and break my heart and teach me a lesson. Of course, we'd probably fall in love in the end and have a gazillion babies. Which ew, is so not my forte. My strength, is being amazingly gorgeous and letting the world appreciate that fact. Sort of. I'm not that vain. Though I can't say the same about everyone. I hear snickers from beside me.

"Did she seriously just say that?" Jason laughs.

I blush when I realize that I must've been thinking that last bit out loud.

"Oooh I'm so gorgeous!" John shrills in an unnaturally high voice.

"Ohemgee, like I am waay gorgeouser." Jason replies in an equally high voice.

"Please. The world only appreciates my gorgeousness." John fake-giggles and swats his hand.

"I didn't know you guys thought so highly of yourselves." I roll my eyes,tuning them out and turning my attention back to the hot guy.

I watch the guy walk over to some girl in slutty lingerie and he starts whispering in her ear. Then I notice that they're standing on this catwalk sort of thing. It's not really like a fashion show. More like: "OMG he is so sexy, Amanda you have got to come see him!!!" and: "Sasha sweetheart, you're the female photographer not the male. Get it right sweetie, or we'll be forced to fire you." It was just this weird thing where all the models could walk around and talk to either fellow models, or the onlookers. I didn't quite understand how this was going to boost sales. Seriously; it was like some prostitute convention. Well, for those dressed in nothing but bras and panties. Like the girl the hot guy went to go talk to. I retrain my attention and I notice that the girl has left. I can't tell whether it's my imagination or not, but it looks like he waving me over. When I don't budge, he motions again. So I hesitantly stand up, the instant I do, he smiles and makes even bigger waving motions. Like my feet have suddenly grown a mind of their own, I start heading over to him, ignoring John and Jason's protests. I barrel through anyone in my way. He is my goal and no one will stop me from getting there.

When I reach the catwalk, he hops down and motions for me to follow me behind the stage. I try and stop my movements from being so zombielike but I'm just so nervous that I can't. Which is weird, because if there is one thing that I am not, it's nervous in front of guys. I mean, it wasn't like I was a virgin anymore, just an interesting piece of information.

So I straighten up and followed him behind. It's a very dim-lit area. Full of racks of clothing and things. It looks like some fancy Chanel place that I would never be able to afford. He's holding up this water bra and a pair of aqua coloured, lacy panties. Which I so did not want to put on. But the instant our fingers touched, I felt like I just had to, you know? His fingers were rough and callused but really strong and... manly.

"Where's the changeroom?" I asked.

He pointed down.

"Oh um, no, the changeroom." I repeated, hoping that he wasn't some handsome devil from Russia.

He just pointed down again. I guess my shocked face must've been humorous, because he started laughing. He pointed down again, and I shrug. I mean, if I'm going to be walking out there with almost nothing on, what's the difference? Oddly enough, neither the bra or the undies-more like thong-had a label. When I tried to ask the guy, he just shook his head. I briefly wondered if the guy was mute. He hasn't said a word to me so far. Then, the pants almost fell. I let out a little shriek and glared at him. I could tell he was trying to stifle a laugh but he pulled out this wickedly sharp thing and stuck it through the panties and pulled. This somehow managed to shrink them, but his needle thing had also jabbed me.

"Ouch!' I cry.

The guy's face looks horrified and he sticks the needle into his jeans pocket, blood and all and he runs to a nearby table and pulls this fancy lavender scented tissue from a diamond encrusted tissue box. Fancy. Very fancy. I take the tissue and soak up the blood before trashing it. Thankfully, the wound isn't big.

"IS THIS IT?" I hear a voice yell. Jason.

The guy gives me a horrified look and motions for me to change faster. I don't understand why, but I still do it, crouching behind my makeshift towel curtain. I strapped the bra on which was a lot more painful than I remembered and stepped out. The guy let out a wolf whistle and finally opened his mouth.

"Hi beautiful."

I could now understand why he didn't speak. His voice sounded like knives, or nails on a chalkboard and I could hear a hollowness to it. It scared me so badly I felt a suffocating sensation coming on.

"JOHN! I HEARD SOMETHING!" I hear Jason yell.

Thank god. While I know there's nothing out-of-the-ordinary about this guy other than his killer good looks and his killing voice, I want to get out of there.

"Cutie, one of your boyfriends is coming. Let's head out to the runway, eh? See if they like your new look." he winks, smiling profusely. His voice is so damaged you can hardly hear the teasing tone in it.

I resist the urge to cover my ears and nod instead, wondering all the while, what the hell happened to his voice. Though, then again, it's possible he has a really sore throat. It happened to my math teacher once and I spent the whole week blasting my music. A couple of detentions were worth it, so long as they weren't with her. I let him lead me out to the "runway".

It takes a couple minutes to notice, but instead of the place getting brighter, it's getting dimmer. Dimmer and mustier. My heart starts to pound and I contemplate attacking.

"Um, excuse me. Where are we going?" I ask.

He looks around and puts a hand to his mouth. He gives me a face that looks somewhat like an apology. Then we turn around and he starts leading me the other way. Okaay, so maybe he isn't a monster. But I've come across so many strange things and situation where I need to defend myself to get away alive that even the cute fluffy dog down the street could be a killer. Going back doesn't seem like the smartest idea. It's getting us nowhere. Finally, he stops, perplexed.

"Where are we?" he mouths. "What is this place?"

I resist the urge to roll my eyes seeing as how he's the one who got us here in the first place. How am I supposed to know? So I just shrug. He licks his finger as if to "taste" the air like you see Cookie Scouts doing or whatever. Then I see the two tunnels that look exactly identical.

"Which way?" he mouths.

I close my eyes and think. If I could just find some source of water, I could get us out of here. Finally, I detect something. Or at least I think I do. Might as well give it a shot. It's better than rotting down here. I point left. For some reason, the idea of talking is freaking me out. He nods and we head for left.

It seems like some couple hundred years later under my direction do we reach a little puddle of water. It seems a little strange and musty, seeing as how it is a tunnel, but as long as it's water, no matter how bad, it won't kill me. Even if it looks a little disturbing. Just being near that icky little puddle, I feel stronger. My hands immediately fly towards the source of water.

My fingers touch and I immediately feel cool, calm. A tingling sensation runs up my hand and I feel relaxed. I can get us out of here. I retreat my hand. Then I do it again. Suddenly the cooling sensation becomes little icy pricks, stabbing into my skin. This isn't water. I turn to the mystery guy for help, but he isn't there. I start to panic and I try to summon water. Somehow, the pool of whatever it is, is blocking my power. Without my water, I have nothing. I'm not a fighter, or a schemer. If I don't have my water with me, I'll be sure to die. And screaming won't help either. I've just got to stay until he decides to make a reappearance. Just as this train of thought leaves my brain, a cold point presses up against the back of my neck. No matter how hard I try to turn around, I can't do it. It's got me paralyzed.

"So." he rasps. "You knew Cyron."

I freeze when I hear the name. But not literally, seeing as how I'm already frozen. So this guy knew Cyron. I should've known the moment I saw him and his devastatingly good looks and raspy voice. It's hard not to feel scared around this guy.

"So." he repeats, digging the blade in deeper. "You knew Cyron."

I can't move my lips. The best I can do is a muffled cry. The guy laughs and forces my head into a bucket of water. Whatever water it is, it doesn't do much else then loosen my head up.

"No." I snap.

I can feel the blade dragging against my skin, cutting it open. It takes everything in me not to scream and I grit my teeth hard. He hears it and laughs.

"I can tell when you're lying to me little girl. Each time you tell a lie, I will cut you again and again until your head breaks off."

"That's disturbing." I snort.

He ignores me. "Let's try this again. You knew Cyron."

"I told you bitch." I spit. "I didn't know him personally. My friend knew him."

"Oh? And where's your friend?"

"He died." I snap, but my voice breaks. I feel bad using Henry like this.

"Poor little thing." the retard laughs. "That's what happens with most of Cyron's little cronies."

This man is so coldhearted I can hardly believe it. The way he talks about human life so carelessly, as if he couldn't care less. Which, I suppose he doesn't.

"F*** you!" I yell.

"You can f*** me all you want. I couldn't care less. So who turned you?"

"Alice in Wonderland." I reply.

The knife starts digging into my skin again. "You think you're so funny, don't you? See how funny you are once your head's severed."

"Go to hell." I mutter.

What's really disturbing is that the blood feels nice and warm down my back, like a hot shower. I wonder if I'm delirious, or going insane. His foot crunches down on my hand. This time I can't help but scream as my hand breaks. I hope it's only enough to let Jason and John find me. I bite down on my lip to keep from crying like a little girl.

"Let's try this again. Who turned you?"

"Turned me into what?" I yell. "A vampire? A werewolf? How am I supposed to answer your question If I don't even know what you're talking about?!"

"Look little girl, I don't have time to play games with you." he hisses in my ear. His revolting breath makes me gag. "Tell me who made you so pretty and we'll be done."

I can't imagine what it is about whoever "turned" me that's so important, but I know he's not getting it. I wouldn't tell him if my life depended in it, which, I guess it kinda does. He opens his mouth to speak, but I cut him off. I know he really will dig the knife into my bones and through my voice-box, esophagus, and all. Which means I have a limited time to scream for help.

"PICKLED!" I yell in his face. "YOU'RE PICKLED! WITH SOGGY BURGERS AND HORSERADISH! PICKLED!"

This proves to be a poor idea. He slams the hilt of the blade into my back. Any harder, and my back would've broken. But I guess I was kinda stupid. The smell of this tunnel just reminds me of burgers, neither which are pleasant.

"Are you stupid?" he seethes. "I'm trying to help, something you obviously don't understand."

And then he falls on top of me, knocking me to the ground. The first and only thing I can come up with is: rape! And I struggle wildly and kick and bite every part of him that I'm in contact with. But the weird thing is, he's not fighting back or hitting me or anything at all. Which one, means he died. Two, he feels guilty-not likely. Three, he doesn't understand the meaning of rape. For which I'm thankful for.

It's not until he's pulled off of me that I see John and Jason. They both look mildly amused, but mostly angry. And hungry.

"I didn't know you liked pickles so much. Or horseradish my little damsel in distress." John snorts.

I shoot a glare at him. "Actually, I hate them both thank you very much, and I was doing fine on my own." I say miffed.

"Which is why you're stuck to a puddle with blood streaks all over your hair." Jason observes.

But at this point, I can't even hear him anymore. As the adrenaline fades away, so does my consciousness.





~~~~~~~~



нι єνєяуσηє! ѕσ ι яє¢єηтℓу ∂ιѕ¢σνєяє∂ тнιѕ тнιηg ση му ρнσηє:) ωнι¢н мєαηѕ נ мιgнт, ρяσвαвℓу, ωιℓℓ вє υѕιηg тнιѕ α ℓσт υηтιℓ ι gєт вσяє∂ σƒ ιт. ωнι¢н ιт σвνισυѕ, ωнσ ωσυℓ∂η'т? вυт ηνм ℓσℓ.

ⓔⓝⓙⓞⓨ ⓣⓗⓔ ⓢⓣⓞⓡⓨ



Ⓛⓞⓥⓔ ⓐⓛⓦⓐⓨⓢ

-ѕмιℓє0808