So hey hey hey people! Here it is, the very first installment of my first Wattpad book. This was actually a descriptive essay for my English Language class but I thought, meh...what the heck? This could be good. So read, Comment, Vote, leave suggestions and all them other stuffies.
Thank ya luvs and I'll write more soon
Noki
The day was fading with each passing moment. The red- orange light filtering through the leaves of the trees decorated the forest floor like leopard spots. It was the only light I had as I ran, heart pounding, through the otherwise darkness of the foliage. The grass leapt out at me from every direction, cutting my skin like knives.
As I tuned out the loud pounding of my bare, aching and scarred feet against the forest floor and the even louder pounding of my heart; I realized that I was surrounded by silence. The silence was deafening, almost unnerving, as if I were the only one in the forest, in the world...the only being to ever have existed. How completely ironic although I would prefer the maddening solitude of life alone to the life threatening situation that was now staring at me; glaring into the very depths of my being.
But all the same, the silence was worrying.
How do I put it?
Even if I wasn't running for the preservance of my meager existence, the wild animals should be everywhere, eagerly tripping over themselves to get out of my path. And yet the only forms of life were the strange shapes scuttling into the shadows where the eye could not reach. And the fading light was making it increasingly harder for me to see my way.
And then, just like that, out of the blue black darkness, large silver teardrops began falling as if at the exact moment I was sure my demise was growing closer and Brother Death was breathing my name; the sky began to pour it's anguish down upon Mother Earth as if lamenting some long-lost romance, turning the forest into an inescapable dungeon of blinding rain and muddy earth that seemed with each step to pull me down into the cold but comforting arms of eternal darkness.
I could practically feel her eyes burning into the very being of the head of security, her tall elegant form tensed with anger."You let him escape?!" She shrieked incredulously. He shifted nervously, his eyes floor ward, avoiding her gaze. The effect was almost comical, as this was no recently rebuked five year old standing before her, but rather a heavily muscled ex wrestler well over 250 pounds. His bald head shone under the florescent white light of the office. His dark skin made darker still by the black uniform he wore. He mumbled something incoherently.
"What did you say?" She asked icily.
"It couldn't be helped Your Majesty." He muttered " He knocked the wi-"
"Don't. Call me that."
"I-I'm sorry." He apologized, trying to slowly back out of the room.
"Must you scare the men, darling?" The calm, silky voice came from a slender figure seated in the cushiony depths of a chair behind the clear glass table. He was smoking a thin cigar, the rings of smoke floating up, beyond his slicked back black hair to form halos above his head.
She turned, her pale blond hair whipping the air, an angry retort at her lips. "He was simply calling you by your proper title, Your Highness," He continued smoothly, stressing the last two words and looking calmly at her as she strode towards him, her heels clicking against the floor like castanets.
"We," she said angrily, "are not royalty here. And you, my dear husband are just as aware of that as I am. Or has this corrupt modern world skewed your memory?" She sneered slamming her hands upon the desk as the head of security slinked out the door. "No ," he chuckled darkly, " but it certainly has, as this generation calls it, messed with yours, my love. Or have you forgotten it was you who pushed us through that foul contraption and into this even fouler world in the first place? If I remember correctly, you were in search of 'adventure'."
" I never asked you to come with me Arthur."
"True." He admitted, putting out the cigarette and walking around the desk. "I was stupid enough to follow you- but then again, is so rash an act really asinine if it was the only way of being sure that you could be with the one you loved?" He asked, caressing her face, "Is it then really so ludicrous? Genevieve?"
Genevieve didn't answer. To be quite honest; she didn't even hear him. Her mind had drifted to ten years ago when this all began.
_____
There was a huge grin plastered across her face. The diamond ring situated on her ring finger that dazzled and shone in the sunlight filtering in through the carriage window assured her repeatedly that no; this was not a dream, she was actually married to the love of her life, Arthur, Prince of Kimbrington who sat across from her, smiling as if he couldn't believe he was actually there, with her as his wife.
He loved every facet of her. Even her wild impulsiveness and longing for adventure. He knew he would have to work hard to satisfy that insatiable desire, almost hunger, to do something bold, daring, even dangerous; but as long as she was his wife, he would happily give up his crown and kingdom and trade in the posh castle for life with her as travelling mercenaries.
They were totally unprepared for the earthquake. It came from nowhere. The earth shook violently, as if crying out against some great injustice. Gingerly, Arthur got out, helping Genevieve after him. They looked around for assisitance but all that could be seen was the disappearing orange coattails of their carraige driver as he ran for his life. And no wonder, a large gaping hole had suddenly appeared in the air before them, the cavernous hole filled with swirling mass of colours; black, grey, green, blue and staring right into the whirling mass was the strangest little man either of them had ever seen. He was dressed in a long white coat( simply ridiculous in this kind of weather, and no coattails!), white trousers( really, was this man quite mad?) and some strange contraption was attached to his where his eyes should be. His hair was spiked in all directions and he was laughing and muttering " I did it! I finally did it!" over and over to himself, totally oblivious to the fact that his jaw was the very unlucky target of Arthur's fist.
---------------------------------
Do you have any idea what it's like? Knowing that your world is now under the control of a maniac? Knowing that hundreds of lives are threatened every day? Knowing that your world is now a much darker, more dangerous place? And even worse knowing that that it's all your fault?
And that you're powerless to stop it?
Do you know that feeling?
I do.
It feels like someone's digging a hole deeper than the Marinara Trench into your very being.
And it feels like all of the sadness, the pain, the hurt, the anger, the confusion that you have caused is poured in. Just to remind you that its all your fault.
As if I needed reminding.
My name is Dr. Alfred Maguire. I am a scientist. And fifty years into your future, I have invented and perfected the Time Machine and the only person who can go back in time and stop me from making the biggest mistake of my life is an ex mob boss by the name of Jackson Caruso.
-----------------------------------------------------
Hey. I've never been good at this whole introduction thing and the fact that I'm sitting here in a dark, cold, damp cave doesn't exactly help but I guess if I want to get the word out about what's going on in my present and your future, I'm going to have to tell you something huh?
Okay. My name is Jackson Caruso and I'm a mob boss turned mercenary. I'm thirty-nine years old and I grew up in- Oh who am I kidding? Let's just get straight to the point, shall we? I come from fifty years into your future, but right now I'm a few thousand years in the past. Make sense? No? Well I guessed as much. Truth is, not much has changed since the day you're reading this. Well, not much to the average person, anyway. But beneath the surface, there's a lot going on.
You know how the mafia had -has, depending on how you look at it- the police force on their payroll? Well not anymore. Now, the police force, the stock markets, major companies, governments, whole countries are now under the power and control of a secret agency known as The Elite.
No one knows who the members are, no one's met them, seen them; they're almost non- existent.
ALMOST.
Because they're real and they've got the world by the balls and they ain't letting go anytime soon. And that's when I come in. Well, me and a bunch of other criminals at the top of the NYPD's wanted list who were actually stupid enough to get caught.
After the police hauled my sorry butt down to the station they took one look at my file and sent me off to a holding cell; no interrogation, no mug shots, no phone call, no lawyer, no nothing. The next thing I know; I'm being briefed by some guy in a suit who's telling me how "The Elite" have heard of me and my "special talents" and have selected me to be one of their travelling scouts. Making it sound as if I had just joined the damn Girl Guides and was supposed to walk around in a skirt selling cookies.
Turns out these guys have some kind of mad genius under their control who's found a way to time travel. His invention looks like a fancy watch but all you have to do is set the time and date and whisper the name of the place you want you get to, and poof- you're there. But the thing is, when you've got a bunch of criminals as your own personal murderers you can't exactly give them a way to slip in and out of your bedroom and kill you in your sleep undetected, now can you?
Which is why any unauthorized trips can land you in the middle of a very nasty World War 2...right in Hitler's line of fire. That is, unless your watch has suddenly become "defective" due to having a bit of rewiring done. Turns out any homeless guy 500 years in the future can do it.
I'm one of the higher ranking mercenaries. Meaning that I've been in service longer than some of the others and rather good at chopping people's heads off. So when The Elite found out I was Missing In Action, they probably threw a hissy fit. Not that I mind. Every bird needs their feathers ruffled once in a while and besides, now that I was free, they had a reason to be afraid.
I took a look at myself in the small pool of rainwater at my feet. Water fell into the pool at irregular intervals, contorting my looks and giving me the warped features of a reflection in one of those distorted mirrors that are still sticking around like used gum in carnivals and circuses. Not that I've got time to spruce up, though. I just hope those lovely people sent to murder me won't mind my disheveled appearance. It's just so hard to find a good bar of soap and hair gel in the middle of a forest in the late 5th century.
Now I know what you're thinking.
"You've got a freaking time machine strapped to your wrist! What are you waiting for? An engraved invitation? Get out of there!"
Well either that or you're one of those video game junkies and you just want to see stuff get blown up.
Yeah, well; truth is; people five hundred years in the future may be shooting at more than twice our brain capacity but that ain't all there shooting.
Turns out cocaine is lot more refined than ever before a few centuries from now and a lot harder to resist so it's pretty much impossible to find someone in the slums of Washington who's not high or, for a small fee can help you get high so I had to settle for a homeless high school dropout with a thing for computers.
Now, kids, this is why you should stay in school. If you drop out like this fool and I drop by trying to get out of The Elite's clutches and you mess up...If I can get back to you; screw that, when I get back to you; I'll introduce you to my version of The School of Life, you get the point?
Cause apparently, when you're so high that you make the Burj Khalifa Building in Dubai look like a very pointy pencil you tend to mess up time travel machines. So now, the watch sends me to random locations at random times and not only that, thanks to that genius of a dropout I can also move between the realms of reality and fiction
Do you have any idea how annoying those broads from "Little Women" are in reality? I mean fiction? I mean- ugh, you get the point.
Oh great. Just my luck. Just when I begin making friends with the mosquitos making lunch out of me; the watch decides it's time to go for a ride.
Y'all better hope I don't end up in Nightmare on Elm Street cause if I do, Wes Craven can kiss my-
______________________________.
Surely she wouldn't do this, would she?
Just leave me here like this?
Do you have any idea what happens to an unfinished story?
Nothing.
You get stuck in whatever state the writer leaves you in. Whether you're left dying in a roadside ditch, crying, running for your life, suspended in the air, forever falling off of a cliff.
So I guess that pretty much explains why I'm stuck wandering a forest for eternity while my author is off doing who knows what, doesn't it?
Oh, you thought we don't know when you've given up on us? Oh trust me, we know. Characters know everything about their authors. So Sarah Drudgen, age thirty five, living on the outskirts of Manchester City with your two teenage sons, if you're reading this I'm still waiting for my happily ever after! I'm still waiting till I can stop making my "way through the Jade Forest, taking every precaution she possibly can; knowing that the President's soldiers can jump her at an second."
Because, that's exactly what I'm doing right now, which is really silly, don't you think? I mean, after all, nothing happens til you write more,which at this rate means nothing ever will happen.
Oh yeah, for those of you who do't knw, my name is Evangeline, but if you ever dare to call me that, I will cheerfully douse you in honey, dig a hole so deep that only your head sticks out and leave you there, right next to an Allegheny Mound Ant's nest. You can call me Eve. You know... we met earlier. I was running in terror?
Ring a bell?
Well that was actually right before Sarah gave up on me. It was the last chapter she actually wrote. I did have a run in with them, in case you're wondering. And they won't be coming back anytime soon...trust me
Oh, don't worry, I didn't kill them or anything ghastly like that, or at least not directly.
I mean, honestly, do you have any idea how hard it is to get blood and other internal fluids out of a black woman's natural hair?
But seriously.
All I did was get them to walk into a net I'd hidden beneath some leaves and when the trap sprang, I hit them with a dose of knockout gas; my own recipe.
I even sent them on their way!
See That wan't so bad, was it?
Of course, I suppose it might have been a tad bit unpleasant having to ride with their hands and legs bound...while tied to the undersides of their horses
What?
It could have been worse
I could have sent them right in the direction of a lion's cave;
Or to a swamp,
Or to the edge of a cliff,
Or even worse;
to their mothers in law.
Luckily for them even I'm not that evil.
Instead I sent them and their horses on a leisurely stroll up a steep rocky mountain; l even checked and made sure there was a minor storm coming, and sent them in the general direction of a simply ginormous lake of quicksand.
With any luck, they'd die a pain free but tortuously slow death.
Well that is, if the pterodactyls don't get to them first. You know how those pterodactyls love them a good piec of horse flesh!
Oh wait.
You don't know.
You're from the "real" world...Poor you.
Speaking of unwelcome visitors...
“Are you going to come out of the bushes and tell me who you are; or do I have to shoot you?” I asked, stopping in my tracks without turning around.
The bushes rustled behind me. They were inter interspersed with the trees that lined the walkway, “ the golden light of the setting sun filtering through their leaves, creating shadows on the lush forest floor that danced as if in celebration of her victories"
Ugh.
Sarah and her romanticism.
I heard a deep, throaty chuckle and in turning, saw that my follower was a man that was simply out of my world.
No,
I mean literally.
He was out of my world.
I wasn't gushing over him.
He wasn't of the realm of Sarah Drudgen's imagination which was an imagination fed with a endless array of her husband's collection of terrible sci-fi and fantasy films and her lack of knowledge of world history.
He simply didn't belong...
My world was one where different time periods and cultures all melded into one; which mightn't have been so bad, I suppose if Genghis Khan and Atilla the Hun weren't currently leading opposing armies in a battle to wrest the title of "King of the World" from a government more interested in filling their wallets than filling out the pomises in their manifesto while the King lay in his throne room being fed grapes by the "Redhead of the Day."
Lucky parents usually consider it an honor when their daughters are chosen. Or, in other words, they just wanted the money. The women, on the other hand, left with disturbing images of their leader forever etched into their memory, tended to think otherwise. And here was a man who regarded me; a convicted felon on the run whose face and a list of crimes was plastered across television screens, Wanted posters, holograms and the internet;as just another casual stranger. And that alone was enough to convince me that this man, whoever he was wasn't from my corner of fiction.
That could only mean that he had found a way to travel between the realms of reality and fiction
Slanted grey eyes peered out at me from an ageless face, his thin lips curved ito a wry smile, but the hardened features on his face, however, told me that this man was not one to mess with.
Oh well, I love a challenge.
"Who are you and what are you doing here?"
The smile disappeared.
"Isn't this a free country? Can't a guy simply walk around in a forest minding his own business?"
"Not when you're tailing me," I replied crisply. "Now who are you and why are you following me?"
"Pssh." he scoffed, sitting on a rotten log. "Following you? Hah! Hate to burst your bubble, love, but you're not that important. Do I look like the freakin' paparazzi to you?"
* ^ * ^ *
Her brow furrowed as if she was struggling to understand a foreign language before her lips curled into a malicious grin
"Papparazzi?" she asked, eyeing him suspiciously, seemingly gliding across the forest floor, a trickle of honey coating the venom in her voice. "That is what you said isn't it? Do you have any idea what that means to people around here? As much as I'm beginning to loathe you, even I wouldn't dare pay you such disrespect. Which begs the question," she continued, her face now mere inches from his, her voice a venomous whisper "Why would you call yourself that?"
The question hung there like the proverbial elephant in the room; impossible to ignore.
Or avoid.
That is; unless you're an ex-mafia don with a grudge and a messed up time travelling watch. And there aren't too many of those around, now are there?
* ^ * ^ *
As the blinding white light emanating from the watch began to cover him, his body quickly disintergrating into millions of swirling particles, he laughed, his voice seemiongly coming from both nowhere but yet everywhere:
"I'd say I hate to cut this meeting short love, but if I did that, I'd be lying-"
"But I was enjoying our chat so much!" she shot back; unthinkingly jumping into the swirling mass, one fist extended into a right hook aimed at where his face was mere moments ago before
The next thing she knew, she was enveloped in darkness, followed by a blinding light and a searing pain that overtook her entire body and then; everything was black.