Red {HWC2013}

HAPPY HALLOWEEN, ATS!

My favorite holiday ever, and here we go! Been waiting for this contest!

This story is going to be another long one (even longer than my alien love story, if you can imagine). I've been wanting to write this story for a while, and now I have an excuse.

Please be patient with me, I just wrote the first chunk at about three in the morning, and I'll be working hard on it all month. This story was inspired by this song;



If you wanna get a proper feel for the story, listen.

Even if you don't read the story, listen to the song. Its awesome.

AAAAAAANY who, without further delay, I present to you my entry. Writer status entry


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RED

A dark, misty night loomed over the city this evening, fog hovering in the air, around the blackness, illuminated only by the occasional steet light, or the faint glare cast by the moon and stars above...

The clouds descended down tonight, having decided to visit the world below, engulfing everything in sight... a thick, beautiful fog, inches above the autumn leaves coating the pavement and grass, the dying trees losing one leaf after another, their crooked, horrific branches wrapping around the world surrounding ominously as the wind swept away their lost leaves... and apart from the gentle gust of leaves, there was no noise, no sound whatsoever, and the man standing in the middle of the road stood entirely board stiff, still as night, like a statue from the graveyard... Nothing else stirred.

That is, until two spots of light eased into sight, just down the street, growing bigger, ever so slowly... followed by the low rumble of a smooth engine...

A truck came into view, though he'd expected it.

In the night, he appeared only as a shadow, rooted to the spot, blind from the gaze of the street light yards away, the edges of his dusty black trench coat shifting slightly with each blow of the soft wind, his face covered by stringy black bangs, along with the rim of his black hat.

The truck drew nearer, and the engine's rumble became a dull roar.

He tightened his crippled hand around the cold handle, fingers coiling... his right hand concealed just behind the edge of his coat. The wind blew in just the right way, blowing his coat open, just barely... keeping his hand and weapon hidden...

The truck was traveling at an average speed, though it halted to a screeching stop just feet before the man in the road, as the driver only just spotted him.

The truck's driver-side door flew open, and a gruff, middle-aged man stepped outside, looking particularly disgruntled.

"Are you outta your goddamn mind?!" The driver snapped.

He said nothing in response.

"Get out of the damn road!" The driver screamed, swatting a hand at him angrily, shooing him off. "Move!"

The man didn't move.

The driver grew irritated. He stood on the edge of his truck's doorway, leaning over his open door.

"MOVE!"

It was swift--done in a moment.

In the blink of an eye, the man found himself behind the body of the driver, and the teeth of the saw blade kissed his scaly, sweaty throat... he pressed down.

The saw sliced into him, and though the darkness of the night served well to conceal much of the gore, the sweet, metallic scent was unavoidable... blotches of crimson covered them both, and the driver's eyes went wide with shock, glaring into the eyes of his killer, as the murderer held him close, staring into him, feeling his body fail, bleeding out, going limp... he, with the cold, apathetic leer of a cobra, continued to stare vacantly into the driver's eyes until the light left them... no one would know until morning, when traffic would resume, and the school bus would go by...

He let the driver drop to the ground, lying sprawled awkwardly in a massive puddle of thick, fresh blood, just outside of his still running truck... then he turned and vanished into the night without a second glance.

*************************************

It was unusual for the serenity of the night to offer Julian no peace.

Though as he wandered out of his church, locking the double doors behind him, he began down the leafy sidewalk, into the foggy night, his mind over-cluttered with rapid thoughts and worries. He, the "second in command" youth pastor, as he called himself, was responsible for putting together a Halloween celebration for the teenagers of his rag-tag youth church.

Attempting to balance church responsibilities with school was almost hellish. But, considering the type of neighborhood he lived in, he figured the teenagers of the community needed some positive influence on their lives... with broken homes and poor schools, the budget-shy West Church of God was, as he saw it, their only hope.

Julian himself didn't fit into the community entirely, though.

Not at all, actually.

Wannabe thugs, hardcore goths, and everything in between ran this town completely.. muggings, stabbings, and tire-slashings were the past times around here. But Julian, even having grown up in these surroundings, somehow managed to shield himself from their questionable, and sometimes flat-out horrific, ways.

He was a slender guy... not really skinny, but slender, with long, straight, jet-black hair, glistening, bottle green eyes, and a beautifully carven doggish face, and a chin spotted with stubble... and on his nose sat a pair of small, transparent glasses. He wore a black overcoat overtop his dress shirt and pants, reaching down to his ankles, and a black fedora to match, with a shiny silver coss necklace sitting perfectly on his collar bone. He looked like an all-out pastor, and though he was only eighteen, he determined that the other teenagers look to him as more of a parental figure, so he ought to look the part. At least while he was in church, anyway.

He wondered how they'd get up the extra money for a decent celebration... he'd probably have to dip into his own money again... the thought of decorating and planning exhausted him. He spent the entire afternoon cleaning the place, with very little help... and he was the last to leave... it was already one in the morning... crap, and with school tomorrow...

His eyes began to drift shut as he continued down the road, fog and blackness engulfing nearly everything, with only the exception of the occasional round enlightened spot on the road underneath a streetlight.

Julian glanced right, only to spot a long, narrow alleyway, leading directly to the road he was headed to. A shortcut...

Bad idea, he knew. In this place? Dark alley in the middle of the night?

Terrible idea.

But rationality was limited around this time of night, as Julian spent the day working, with very little sleep the night before at that... come on, its only once, right? Gotta get home and sleep... nothing's gonna happen... just this once...

***

***

Julian stepped into the alley, placing a hand against the wall beside him as he walked. The alley was completely pitch black, so he guided himself by following the wall.

He released a heavy yawn, his eyes closing again... eh, it doesn't matter... he can close his eyes... it looks exactly the same, closed or open... everything's pitch black anyway... everything...

He didn't know how long he walked before he began to slip into a light sleep...

"Hey." A demanding voice broke through his tired mind, forcing him to awaken, now suddenly alert.

He was near the end of the alley, only yards away... it wasn't pitch black anymore... a street light just across the road was visible, though that's not where his attention was at all.

Two men stood in front of Julian, staring daggers at him. One of them was an average looking white guy, sagging pants, wife-beater tank top, and a crooked hat... the other was dressed in a similar way, but he was African American.

"Are you a Christian?" The white man asked.

Julian blinked, staring at them both, still spacey from his lack of sleep.

"Yes I am." He replied. "Why do you ask?"

The two men looked at one another, then back to Julian.

He didn't entirely understand his situation, until someone made a move, and he couldn't hope to escape...

A fist shot into Julian's stomach, sending the wind right out of him... his eyes snapped shut, and more fists hit him... he hit the ground before he knew it, and the pain overcame him... it was almost like a dream, how terrifying it was, how much pain he was in... the two men were on top of him, shouting vulgarities, punching, and kicking for what seemed like hours...

"Hey." A voice came.

The beating ceased.

The two men reared, looking backwards.

A figure stood at the end of the alley, watching them.

It was a girl, a rebellious-looking one, wearing a sleek leather jacket, cargo pants with chains attached, and a spiked collar. Her hair was fairly short, though she had two long bangs framing her pale face... her hair was a deep black, though her bangs were decorated with brilliant blood-red crimson streaks...

Her cerulean blue eyes were fixed on them, her expression darkening.

"C'mon." One of the men said, patting his companion on the shoulder. The two men headed down the opposite end of the alley, and after a moment, they were out of sight and gone.

The girl squinted.

If she hadn't imagined it, there was something lying there, in the alley, on the ground... something big, wearing a coat... a body...

A body?

Her heart began to pound.

She swore, hissing a vast amount of curse words... then approached the body, kneeling beside it, examining it.

"Are you okay?" She asked, placing a hand on the guy's shoulder.

Julian, lying on his side, remained totally still, waiting for the breath to return to him... he began to sit up, his abs tightening painfully, attempting with all their might to suck in some air...

"Fine..." He choked, barely speaking. "I'm alright. Thank you."

"You sure?" The girl asked again. "There's blood on your..."

Her fingers gently grazed his face, just at the corner of his mouth. His lip was beginning to bleed.

After a moment, she swallowed, withdrawing her hand.

"Sorry." She said.

"No, don't worry." Julian told her kindly, his voice still rough. He blinked several times at her, wondering why he couldn't see her very well... then, he realized that his glasses had been knocked off him, along with his hat.

Realizing the same thing, She looked around, then picked up his glasses and hat. She handed them to him, and he placed the hat on his head, and swiftly pushed the glasses back onto his nose.

"You want me to call the cops or anything...?" The girl asked.

Julian peered at her, now able to see her clearly.

Though she looked rough enough to stomp someone's teeth in, there was an aura about her that contrasted her tough appearance... she had a certain innocence about her that was unexplainable.

"No thank you, really, you've been kind enough." Julian told her, smiling politely.

"Are... you sure?" She asked.

"Yes, thank you."

There was a pause.

Julian gulped, wishing the air would refill his lungs faster.

After a moment, Julian stood, leaning against the wall, gritting his teeth, ignoring the spiraling pain up his left leg.
The girl stood as well, watching him.

"You okay?" She said.

"Yes." Julian lied, wondering what on earth was making his leg throb so badly.

When he stood upright, a sharp pain pierced through his ankle...

Oh, Julian realized, looking down. My ankle is twisted.

"Y'don't look okay." She said.

Julian took a moment, biting his lip.

"I'm fine." He said. "Er... I'm Julian, nice to meet you." He said a moment later, extending his hand formally.
The girl hesitated, then returned the hand shake.

"I'm Zella, nice meetin' ya."

Zella smirked at him casually.

Julian smiled.

"So... um... what's up?" Zella said, looking down the alley, then down the street. "What was going on? Did you say something to those guys, or did they just jump you outta nowhere?"

"I... I guess they had something against Christians." Julian said, tracing his finger and thumb around the edges of his cross necklace. "That's... what they said."

"That's stupid." Zella told him, making a face. "So... well... what're you doing out here in the middle of the night, anyway?"

"Uh... on my way home." Julian told her, raising his eyebrows. "From church."

"Church?" Zella said. "At one in the morning? Church?"

"Er... I'm a youth pastor. Kind of." Julian said.

Zella blinked.

"Really?" She said. "You look my age."

"How old are you?"

"Eighteen."

"Yeah? Me too."

They stared at one another for a moment.

"Oh." They both said.

They paused for a moment, then smiled.

"Well... what are you doing out here this late?" Julian asked.

Zella looked off for a moment, pondering.

"Just walking. Went to the club and had some water." She told him.

Julian stared at her.

"Oh." He said. "In... in the middle of the night? By yourself?"

"Uh... yeah. I live in a foster home with some people I really hate. So I stay out of the house. It keeps me from killing them." Zella explained.

"And... they just let you wander around in the middle of the night? In this neighborhood?" Julian asked, flabbergasted.

"They don't care." Zella said, shrugging.

Julian met her gaze, looking concerned.

"Well... listen, I know this might be weird, since I just met you... but... would you like to come spend the night at my place?" Julian asked her.

"What?" Zella replied.

"Sorry." Julian said. "But... eh... I know a lot of people in your position. I see it a lot, people growing up in those... places. I wouldn't wish it on anybody. I try to help anyone out when I get the chance. I promise, I'm not being weird." He grinned, releasing a small cloud of breath.

Zella was quiet for a moment.

"I don't wanna impose--"

"You wouldn't be, I have two extra rooms." Julian said. "And I offered."

***

***

Zella looked down for a moment.

"Ah... alright." She said, seeming taken back by Julian's kind suggestion. "Okay... yeah. What the hell, sure."

They began to leave the alley, and Julian forced himself to walk on his hurt ankle, though the pain was nearly unbearable. He winced with every other step as the two of them began down the sidewalk of the dark, empty street.

"You're limping." Zella said, watching him as they walked.

"Yeah." Julian said, balling his hands into fists. "Leg hurts... but I'm alright."

Zella continued to study him. It was odd, but somehow, she seemed taken by him... he was incredibly different from the sort of guys she'd usually meet. Very, very different.

"Are you in school?" She asked him.

"Yeah... last year of high school." Julian said, ignoring his ankle.

"Me too." Zella said. "At Westland High School."

"Really?" Julian said. "We go to the same school?"

"OH!" Zella exclaimed. "Yeah, we do! We have the same english class, and lunch... and gym, right? Jesus Christ, I didn't recognize you at all. You look a lot different than you do at school."

"Oh, yeah... I try to dress nicer for church." Julian said, nodding.

"Your parents aren't gonna mind me spending the night?" Zella asked.

"Nope. My mom died a while back... and I haven't got a father." Julian said.

A moment of silence lingered over them.

"I'm sorry." Zella said regretfully, wishing she hadn't opened her mouth. Great. I probably just hurt his feelings. Way to go.

"Oh no, don't worry." Julian said quickly after. "I live in my uncle's house... but he's in the military, so... I basically live alone. Its actually nice. I consider myself blessed, compared to most of the folks around here I know."

As they continued to converse, the both of them veered off the road, towards a collection of trees at the end of the dead-end street. Their legs were swoosh swoosh swoosh-ing as they marched ankle deep in autumn leaves.

"Where do you live?" Zella wondered.

"In the neighborhood across the train tracks here. I cut though these woods and walk over the train tracks, its a lot faster than taking the road all the way around." Julian told her.

"Really?" Zella said. "I come to these tracks all the time. Its awesome... you can play on the bridge too. Good place to get away from people."

"True, it is." Julian said. "Here we go."

After making their way through the trees, they stepped over the railroad, crossed it, passed through a second batch of trees, then emerged in a neighborhood... a slightly nicer one than before.

Zella gazed at the homes... they were mostly decorated with glowing orange pumpkins, crazy faces carven on them, some houses coated with fake spider webs, some with purple and orange lights, and various other playful Halloween decorations... she always knew there was a neighborhood on the other side of the tracks where she so often escaped the world, though she never ventured into it until now.

It was beautiful.

Zella completely adored Halloween... and this neighborhood was a Hallows-Eve wonderland. It was wonderfully, beautifully demented... and she loved it.

"Hey... um... thanks, by the way." Zella said, after the two of them were quiet for a little while.

Julian looked to his side, meeting her eyes.

"What for?"

"For... letting me stay the night." Zella said, flustering.

"Oh, no problem." He said, smiling sweetly. "Never a problem. If you ever need somewhere to go, my home's open."

Zella was thankful for the darkness of the night, because Julian couldn't see her cheeks go red. Usually, she held a pretty angry and antisocial disposition... your average careless teenager, who doesn't do school work, doesn't follow dress code, doesn't really abide by any rules at all... that kid who's the first to storm out of the class room or flip a desk if any trouble arises... although now, it seemed different. For once, she was communicating, talking, and smiling with another human being.

Actually, now that she was thinking about it, Zella couldn't remember a time when she'd felt more at home talking to someone...

Still... something about walking calmly through a dimly illuminated Halloween-themed neighborhood with a sweet guy like Julian set her heart at ease. Zella, staring at the night sky, decided to savor the moment.

They walked in silence for a little longer.

After traveling further down the road, both of them spotted something just further down... a vehicle.

Zella and Julian looked at one another, both wearing the same slightly confused expression.

"Is that a truck in the middle of the road?" Zella asked. "Its lights are on."

"Looks like it." Julian responded, narrowing his eyes at the vehicle.

The both of them continued down the street, until they were within a rock's throw of the truck. They drew nearer to it, examining it.

"The driver door is open." Zella said, stepping forward.

"Hang on." Julian warned, grasping her wrist.

Zella looked back, staring at him.

"Careful." Julian said, coming forward, and then stepping in front of her. He placed a hand on the edge of the open door, peeking into the truck, searching for any sign of a person... but the truck was empty... though, somehow it seemed to carry a thick, sickening, metallic, rotting smell...

Zella gasped, clamping onto Julian's shoulder, yanking him back.

"What?!" Julian breathed.

Her hand covered her mouth, nails digging into her skin, eyes wide... she was beginning to tremble...

Julian followed her gaze downward, realizing that, yes, there was indeed someone here... another person... lying twisted and mangled in a puddle of blood, at the foot of the truck's open door... a body, with gaunt, yellow eyes, staring up at them, a gaping, crooked mouth, jaw hanging open, limbs contorted behind the torso in an unnatural manner... its neck sawed halfway through, sitting open and raw like freshly butchered meat in a slaughter house, flies now nuzzling the early decaying flesh...

It was one of many victims of an infamous man, and Zella and Julian stood over it, fighting the urges to scream or vomit... a little time passed before either of them worked up the strength to call the cops.

****

You have a knack for storytelling, but I stopped reading this when it got gory.

It might be a good idea to have disclaimers on stories like this, so those who don't like gore, and children don't have to read it to find out about it.

Now, a couple of things...

You can be redundent. "Decended down." There is no other way to descend, down is not needed, as an example.

"The wind blew in just the right way, blowing his coat open." Try to avoid useing the same word over if posible. "The wind blew in just the right way, opening his coat," is a simple example of how you can do this.

***

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It was nearly five in the morning when Zella and Julian were released to go home.

After being questioned and re-questioned by the police, they determined that neither of them had anything to do with the crime. True, they were victims of circumstance, but, according to the police, the dead man they found was one of many who'd been killed in a similar manner. Throats sawed open with some kind of sharp, jagged object.

Zella wrapped her hands around her elbows, still cradling her arms, attempting to force herself to stop shaking. Julian stuck close to her, leading them both out of the police station, which was only a couple blocks from Julian's home.

The two of them walked home in silence, and Zella fought the images flashing through her mind, but she was unable to vanquish them... those horrific, sick eyes, that broken, open mouth, the inside of the bloody, revolting throat in the sea of blood...

When the both of them turned a corner, Julian lead Zella into a yard... a fenced yard covered by two weeping willows, towards a home which was, apparently, his home.

"Are you okay?" Julian asked, turning to her.

Zella, forcing down every mad emotion swirling around inside her, didn't speak. She nodded, looking down, feeling as though her feelings would burst out of her like a volcano if she opened her mouth.

"I'm sorry..." Julian said, looking conflicted, trying to find the right words. "I'm sorry... we had to see that."

Zella shook her head.

"Not your fault." She muttered. "You've had a worse night than me."

Julian half-nodded, still watching her in a slightly worried way.

As they stood in the yard, the dawn became the slightest bit brighter. It took them a while to walk home, and by the time they arrived, the sun was rising.

"Time to get ready for school." Julian said tiredly, staring at the sun, wearing an exhausted expression.

Zella didn't much mind going to school now. She often skipped class, and sometimes school altogether, if she managed to find a little money in the locker room to spend on a new leather jacket from a thrift store or something... but today, school actually sounded like one hell of a plan. Anything to distract her from her disturbing thoughts... and that face... that rotting, nasty face that refused to leave her mind...

As Julian prepared for school, Zella sat on his porch, staring off into the sky. Life seemed much deeper, much more demented, much darker than it ever had before... more real than it ever had before.

As everyone in the community knew, murder wasn't "news" when reported around here. It wasn't the most friendly neighborhood.

But as of late, more folks would turn up on the news, found alone in their homes or workplace or vehicles, after having their throats sawed open. Zella hadn't paid much mind to the news stories, because she didn't much care... but until now, she hadn't seen the murders first hand.

Hearing the story on the news and experiencing the story in person were two very, very different things. Why...

Why kill the man?

It buzzed through her mind like a swarm of wasps.

Why, why in the hell, would someone go so far out of the way to kill so many people? Why randomly murder a man in his truck in the dead of night? What was the motive?

Was he just a random serial killer?

Did he have a reason?

Why did that man have to die...?

Why did the murderer kill him?

Why was the murderer killing so many people?

Just for the sake of killing? Of death?

To watch someone die...?

Zella pressed her fingers into the sides of her temples, trying and failing to silence her maddening thoughts.

After a while, Julian came outside. He hadn't changed clothes, but he'd grabbed his backpack and coated himself with cologne.

The two of them headed to school, both quietly obsessing over the experience they'd painfully withered the night before.

***

reply to post by Broom

You can be redundent. "Decended down." There is no other way to descend, down is not needed, as an example.

I try really hard to watch for things like that, cause my short term is virtually non-existent. And I'm writing this as I come up with it, with no pretext. But I haven't gone without noticing. Usually when I spot an error, its too late to edit the post.

Also, thanks

reply to post by XxNightAngelusxX


Personally, I am enjoying this story very much. The gore, as referred to by Broom, is entirely in keeping with the Halloween theme, echoing the slasher movies of the nineties, and I felt was excersized with a significant restraint. It was certainly more classically tasteful than anything I wrote in this short story :

www.abovetopsecret.com...

Now THAT was excessive!

You have the gift, and its great to see you continue to use it!

Well it took me a while but i got there lol...As above you do have a great nack for storytelling..And hey.....Gore and Halloween go hand in hand don't they!!!.....Nice stuff

Thanks a lot guys! I'll be posting more soon.

You'll have to be patient with me... cause my friend and I are planning a Halloween party, and we're dealing with life transitions as well. Long story. But I WILL make time to finish this. Me loves Halloween.

*****

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Sunlight was particularly annoying.

One could not hope to slip into the lives of victims under the cloak of blazing sunlight. No, dark was better... much, much better. All the better one could cross paths with an unsuspecting screw-up, stop them in their tracks, and end them then and there.

Sunlight was the territory of the living, the thriving, indoctrinated society, hussling off to school and work each day, lost in their ignorant bliss, never questioning the world around them... the wrongs of man, the flaws of war, and the corruption of their leaders... it was not a place for a shadow like himself to tread.

It was almost sickening, staring at the cracks between the old, rotting wood as the sunlight bled inside, invading his cozy, dark home. That sunlight, the mark of the beast... the lazy, broken human life force, keeping them charged, keeping them going, from day to day, living for only themselves, and understanding nothing beyond that.

From the night before, he still held his curved saw blade in his right hand, sitting on his lap. The blood had hardened, though the smell hadn't yet gone away. He needed it that way... the scent of the fallen, those who don't deserve to live. Those who take up space, ruin lives, and exterminate all hope for good. He needed to see, to smell, to feel, the blood on his blade, signifying that he had, once again, ended another living mistake.

Extermination was the key... yes, the perfect word, he knew, holding the blade back-handed, staring at it up and down, examining the saw's teeth. They were still plenty strong enough to slice through skin. They hadn't dwindled at all.

The perfect word, when referring to sub-human wastes of space.

Extermination.

The job was never done.

Meanwhile, miles away, Zella was sitting alone in her lunch room, after having arrived earlier than everyone else. She hadn't bothered to obtain food... she couldn't eat right now if she tried.

Zella always made a point to rush to the mess hall during lunch time in order to avoid the annoying crowd, even today... hell, especially today. Now she sat alone, at the end of the table, cradling her head in her hands, disturbing, horrible images still playting though her mind... after a few extremely long minutes, the mess hall began to fill with people, and Zella sighed, lying her head down, letting her eyes close, and wishing silently that somehow, by some miracle, the oven in the kitchen would explode, sending everyone away... just so she could be alone, to breathe, to hear her own thoughts... the place was so crowded during lunch time, she could never hope to keep a table all to herself... she knew it was only a short matter of time before her table was over run with fake, gossipping little savages... people she despised... people that revolted her... and not a day goes by when Zella doesn't question the existence of stupid, mean-hearted, worthless human beings...

Someone placed a lunch tray beside her.

Great, she thought bitterly. Someone's gotta sit right next to me, don't they? I swear to God, if you sit there--

"Y'alright?" Came a familiar voice.

Zella looked up.

Julian stood over her, smirking at her slightly surprised expression.

He wasn't wearing his hat, and his glasses were folded and hanging neatly from the neck of his button-up shirt, though he still managed to look positively clean-cut. His long black hair sat cozily over his shoulders, bordering his doggy face, and though he wore a couple of small, new scratches, his face still glowed with a pure, light humbleness that Zella couldn't quite comprehend.

He sat beside her.

"Yeah, I'm fine. You?" Zella asked, fighting down her sudden feelings of awkwardness.

"Alright. Extremely tired, but not too traumatized." Julian told her.

Zella swallowed, giving him a momentary stare.

It was strange, but Julian gave her an odd, unexplainable feeling... just seeing his face, staring into his emerald eyes... somehow, it eased her. Calmed her.

Perhaps she enjoyed having a friend more than she'd anticipated.

*****

"Feel alright?" Julian asked.

Zella blinked at him.

"Sorry." He said. "Just... forced habit."

"I feel fine." Zella lied, placing a hand over her empty stomach, wishing the hunger pains would go away. "Don't worry."

Julian nodded, looking down for a moment.

"You know, um... my class had the news on this morning." He said. "They said the guy we found was a convicted felon."

"Really?" Zella asked.

"Yeah." Julian went on. "Went to jail for a number of things... his name was Jason Cobb. He's been at the center of a lot of media controversy lately, too... because he was released fom jail after beating his wife to death."

"What?!"

"Yeah. That's what I said too." Julian said to her. "It was probably something gang related, I guess. He was involved in a lot of illegal sects of people. Probably made a bad enemy somewhere along the way."

"Oh..." Zella replied, looking away.

Yeah, maybe it was gang related. Maybe the guy just pissed off the wrong ombre, and met a dark fate for it... paid a toll for his ways.

But something about this speculation didn't entirely set right with Zella.

No... there was more to the story.

Something more.

Something she couldn't put her finger on.

Something...

"What about the other people?" Zella said.

"Hm?" Julian mumbled, now speaking with a mouth full of cheeseburger.

"There have been other people found with... with their necks cut open like that. This same person is killing other people too. What's the connection?" Zella wondered.

"I'm not sure." Julian said, thinking. "I don't know much about the other victims... I've been busy with church lately, haven't been keeping up with current events so much..."

Before Zella could respond, a few other people claimed seats at her table, making her stomach lurch. God damn... why can't you all sit somewhere else?

Zella blinked, withdrawing, deciding to remain silent. She didn't much like being in the close company of her peers.

Though after a moment, she realized who they were.

People she privately thought of as the "Dark People."

The Dark People were a tiny sub-culture of alternative students in her school, and Zella favored them over the grand majority. You could spot them in a crowd, quite easily. The Dark People consisted of four unique students, and they all sat side-by-side at the round table, facing Zella and Julian.

The Dark People were Simon, Drake, Luna, and May.

The two males, Simon and Drake, were both fairly tall, with average builds, though they didn't look much alike. Simon was a transfer student from the UK, and spoke with a faint, elegant English tongue. He had short, slick, stringy blonde hair, a pretty well-kempt face, and hazel eyes behind his small glasses. He looked the least "extreme" out of the four, as he usually wore only his thick black winter coat, though the rest of his outfit, while dark, was neat and formal. He was generally the responsible, well-mannered member of the Dark People.

Drake, on the other hand, wore a similar black coat, but one with chains and massive pockets, a spiked collar almost identical to Zella's, baggy chained pants, fingerless gloves, and his short black hair was combed over one side of his face, leaving only one of his green eyes visible, a regular em-over. He rarely spoke or smiled, but within his small sect of friends, he was not antisocial. He was the laid back, I-don't-care-about-anything member of the group.

The two females, Luna and May, were also slightly contradicting in character. May, the one who you would most likely call "Goth," was nothing less than that. Every day, she'd wear fishnet sleeve warmers, numerous big attention-grabbing rings, two or three collars or necklaces with sparkling, colorful jewels or shapes on them, black nails, a black skirt, black tights, and a tightly-fit shirt of some dark color, with some kind of death-related design on it. Her hair was dyed a deep, shining blue, and it only reached the middle of her neck. Her hairstyle was similar to Zella's.

May was, as Zella would describe, fruity. She was charasmatic, out-going, and often tried to make friends with Zella, who, usually, didn't know how to respond to friendly conversation. Zella was unsure of why May wanted to befriend her.

Luna, however, wasn't extroverted in the least. She was soft spoken, shy, and rarely spoke to anyone outside of her group. She was not quite as hardcore "Goth" as May was, but Luna still made a point to always wear dark clothing, creative make-up on her golden-hazel eyes, and avoid her peers' mainstream culture by most means needed. Her auburn hair was always held up in two fluffy pigtails, and her bangs had streaks of black in them, hanging down over her face, all the better to hide her from the eye contact of others.

"What're you guys talking about?" May asked Zella cheerfully, after finishing a joke for her friends.

Zella took a moment. Why does she talk to me every day? Ugh...

reply to post by XxNightAngelusxX


Keep it up! Going great so far!

reply to post by XxNightAngelusxX


very good stuff, look forward to reading more when you post it

Thanks a lot guys!

And also...

Errrm... there's a lot more I want to put in this story.

I'm really getting into it, and I was thinking of making this story into a more R.L. Stine-type novel instead of a short story, in which case I wouldn't be able to finish in time for the contest.

I'm really sorry for leading my readers on like this...

But I think I have to withdraw my entry from the contest.

Could you not write the story in different parts and enter the first part?

Tsu322
Could you not write the story in different parts and enter the first part?

I already did

I meant, with lots of life transitions piled on and a lot more ideas fo this story brewing, I don't think I can finish it by the end of the month. So, I might keep this story going by myself instead of using it in a contest.

Again, I apologize for posting it.

I had a much shorter, simpler synopsis in mind when I started writing this.

Got carried away

reply to post by XxNightAngelusxX


A good yarn has a life of its own, and its gestation cannot be rushed! I think those of us that know your work thus far will all totally understand your position on this.

Keep calm, and write badass stories!

reply to post by XxNightAngelusxX


What I meant was as it is meant to be open ended could you do a trillogy. Three different threads but one over all story, like Lord of the Rigs, kinda. Just a thought.