Rainpath asked:


From original question. Kayla bit her lip, holding back the rush of fear that was making her heart race. Every inch of her body was ready for someone or something to come out and attack her. Wiping blood out of her eyes, she glared at the mass of trees around her. The forest around her was still and quite, only the sound of birds echoed of the vast landscape.

Kayla put her hand on a wound on her shoulder. Blood poured from it, and she gritted her teeth in pain. Her honey blond hair was streaked with blood, and her eyes were filled with anxiety. Using the last of her energy to pull a sharp thorn out of her arm, she slumped to the ground.

She closed her eyes, hoping sleep would find her. All her tension seemed to vanish, as she fell into a uneasy sleep. Kayla was walking though a forest, just like the one she was in. A flash of red flashed through the trees. The red flash got closer and closer to her. Panic chocked out her scream, as the red figure got nearer. She woke, up pain searing through her like never before. Her own blood was choking her, filling up her throat. She gasped for air and coughed up a tremendous amount of blood.

Pulling her hair out of her face, she screamed in pain and horror when she saw a thick knife lodged hardly a inch away from her spine. Wincing in a pain, Kayla slowly pulled out the knife, slowing the river of blood only by her hands.

“You didn’t think we’d just let you run away, did you?” Kayla felt a bony hand touch her shoulder. She screamed in pure terror.

A tall lady with red, curly hair towered over Kayla. Kayla stared at the lady who had spoken to her, he fear disappearing and anger and ambition filled it. She pulled her self to her feet, not letting the pain over take her. “What do you want, Helen” Kayla’s voice was raspy and edgy.

Helen laughed and raised her voice, her green menacing gaze meeting Kayla’s “You know what I came here for, you idiot!”

Helen placed her two bony hands firmly on Kayla’s neck and slamming her against a tree. She dug her sharp nails deep into her skin, until Kayla screamed in agony.

“You either tell me where you hid it,” Her voice was challenging, he green eyes filling with anger toward the young girl. She let go of her neck with one hand and ran it down the tree, leaving deep mark. “Or Kevin gets it!”

Kayla stared at Helen, her eyes filled with hatred. She knew what the lady said what she meant and her best friend would be killed if she didn’t tell her where the rare _____________ was hidden. She held her breath, trying hard not to show her terror. She wanted to save Kevin but the _____________ is what would save everyone else. She knew she could not tell her.

“Over my dead body” Kayla screamed.

Taking the tall lady by surprise she grabbed her head and jammed her head into the tree. Kayla took of running as fast as she could, leaving a trail of blood behind her. She heard the angry cry of Helen and the sound of her foot-steps close behind. Helen was going to find her and kill her, she knew it. All of the hope she had left her with one quick blow of Helen’s fatal nails. She closed her eyes, preparing for the pain of death, the pain she would cause her family and Kevin for not being there, she was prepared to leave the world, and everything she knew and loved. As long as Helen went down with her.

Sorry if it is long, please be honest and just to let you know i wrote it in like 5 mintues so it’s not my best!

Mikeee asked:


You don’t have to read it all. Just tell me if it’s good so far. And thanks in advance(:

The chilling October air rattled the trees, raising the hair on my neck. The fall air wasn’t’ as welcoming as it had been earlier today. Instead, it slashed at my face, ripping the warmth from my body, leaving me freezing and hopeless. A crunching noise sounded from the woods, I didn’t know if I should journey forward. A long swerving road lay in front of me; cedar valley oak trees lined both sides of the lengthy path. No light shun from the towering light posts, yet they cast shadows and leaned forward reaching towards me, so they could strangle me in their arms, crushing my rib cage and blocking my airway. Further on in the distance, barely visible lay a gothic church tower. The picture of the sun setting, as twilight arrived and the fiery oranges and searing reds which began to die down and blend with the indigo of the night, belonged on a painter’s canvas. The sun was nearly down and the earth was soon to be engulfed in darkness as the creatures of night were to arise feeding on souls of anything living.

My ’smooth criminal’ asked:


Screams amongst the mass of dark mist. Loud roars, echoing thunder, striking lightning. And then… a loud wail. A baby’s cries chilling the sky. My breathing uneven, I squinted into the darkness.
“Jeremy!” a scream echoed around, so heavenly, yet pierced with the dark knives of fear. “Mum,” I muttered picking myself off the hard ground and running through the hell of blood and bones that was to be my home from now on.
“NO! Jeremy, stay away! Don’t…” The scream pierced the darkness one last time, when death’s shadow swept the body off the fallen hell on earth. The confusion fed the black tongues of flames licking against the terrain of anguish.
The darkness threatened my heart, prepared to give way. I recalled my mother’s shining face one last time. Ready to give way to the thirsty depths of hell. “Goodbye,” and then it came to me.
Why did my mother and father give their pure souls to the lords of hell? To keep me safe. Why did they leave their footprints amongst those who died fighting the ruthless? Me.
They wanted me out of the hell this land offered. Giving my life to it wasn’t going to repay them. “I have to fight,” I stuttered. “For their sake,” struggling I pushed myself of the rocks, denying the tongues of death what they so dearly thirsted for.
“I’ll keep… on fighting, I won’t let them…uh… take me,” the words slipped through my dry lips into the atmosphere, giving of hope amongst the sea of blood and agony. Groaning and straining, fighting the pain, trying to heal the scars and bruises, and the scar in my chest the recent death had carved I struggled to find a way out of the borders of Tenjoku, hell.
Spears of iron rip through the air, I duck. It missed me by inches. The searing pain in my hips moaned in suffering, as if a knife had been forced through the gaps, tearing away at the flesh and scarring the bones.
“They’re going to attack!” screamed a young warrior. A few years older than me. The future this land offered wasn’t very promising. “Who?” I gasped, not of terror. But the scars toughened my voice, splitting my vocal cords apart.
“The demons!” he yelled at me. “Demons? There aren’t such…” and then out of nothingness a malformed beast burst out of the shadows, clearing it, yet making it even harder to see.
A dog, no, the dog seemed to be twenty times larger than a lion. I stared at its fur, splattered with blood. Its snout gushing out fire. Its eyes swimming with pure hatred. It eyed the humans, towering over them, seemingly stroking the moon; it gave of a harsh laugh and snorted.
Flames flew out of its nostrils. Miles away I could feel them burning my skin, blackening it. I could hear it howl, but my eyes seemed to be rotting. The fire must have had some strong gas in it.
Tears started forming, but as they fell to the ground they were red, clearly above boiling point for smoke was clearly rising from it, small wisps yet they were there. I could no longer see the reason my parents had given away their lives.
I was going to die right now whether I like it or not. This is only one demon and I’m sure it’s weaker than the rest for I could already hear the victorious roars of hell’s lords.
More screams, roars, heavier mist, foul stenches in the air then… black-out.
I’m Jeremy Emerson. Normal name you’d expect from a normal kid with normal parents and a normal life. Not me. My life was dammed the second I opened my eyes. My future has been ripped apart in front of my eyes. My reason to live stolen away from me.
All I could remember from my past were two things: The terror of Tenjoku and my mother’s angelic lullaby. The only thing in this world that kept me alive. Knowing your parents are dead is one thing, but knowing they were killed by harsh lords from hell is another.
I don’t know what they were like. I can’t quiet recall anything about them. My past is a mystery and it shall always be so. My future is crystal clear though…suffering. The sort of future a child born in hell would be pledged.
The windows of my childhood are heavily covered, the only memories I remember are the howling of demonic creatures, screams of men and women alike and the wail of a baby amongst the dark mist plating the somber earth.
I was promised the worst death the seconds I opened my eyes. The death I deserved for so arrogantly leaving aside the lives of the children in Tenjoku, leaving the demon lords to destroy the once beautiful land, the happiness of its residents though I could have so easily saved them.
I’ve always hated demons, from the depth of my soul I would vow to slay all demons, knowing it is impossible, yet dreaming…seeing hope. They’re stronger than they seem (even when they seem strong).
I lived with my uncle, Leon, and aunt, Nasrine, and their children, Zeke, Emma and Ella. Zeke and I are youngest, at fourteen. Emma and Ella are sixteen and fifteen. I like Zeke and Ella but Emma-not so much…she’s way too on the stuck-up side of the scale.
I

TheEvilDrSushi asked:


OK, truthfully, its like 16pages, you could just read an excerpt tho, if you start from the begining, please bear with me, it is not that well written

Chapter One

Chione looked up from the silken shentis she was washing. It was a beautiful day. Ra’s blinding light shone down from the clear blue sky onto the Pharaoh’s garden, reflecting off the clear, blue pond. The newly watered roses glistened and the grape vines gracefully twined around the towering palm trees. Occasionally a date or two would fall down, and if Chione was lucky enough, she’d catch one. Tall, brick walls surrounded the entire garden, and the only way you could see into it was to look through the just as tall, just as magnificent golden gate.

A few paces away, she saw some young boys laughing and playing with the youngest of all seventeen of the Pharaoh’s sons, Chisika. Freedom, something she had wanted ever since her first day as a slave, at two inundations old. Both her parents had died, leaving her as an orphan. It was the Pharaoh’s tenth anniversary as being a pharaoh, and the orphanage’s head woman gave Chione to him as her gift. Chione sometimes remembered little things about her past life, her mother’s hair, her father’s voice, and most of all the overflowing affection they gave her.

Life as a slave was dull. It was hard; if work wasn’t done right, you would get whipped quite often. Others yelled at you. You were nothing. A beetle under a sandal, waiting to get squashed. Same routine, every day. Wake up, eat breakfast scraps, wash whatever clothes that needed to be washed, eat evening meal scraps, wait outside the queen’s room until clapped for, eat dinner scraps, then go to bed at the servants’ quarters.

She had naught but one friend, Reshed, the palace kitchen boy. A boy of fourteen inundations with dark brown hair and hazel eyes that reflected kindness. He was rarely seen without a smile and he could cheer any miserable soul. They spent as much time together as they could. They told one another everything, they snuck through the secret passages together they, played mischievous pranks on Wati together, they-

“STOP DAYDREAMING GIRL!”

Chione snapped to attention and tensed when she saw that it was Wati. Nonchalant Wati, arms crossed, leaning on the doorway’s frame, with a bored expression on her face and a superior air to her. She had long, lustrous black hair and heavily painted eyes. Her leather sandals were neatly strapped. Her new, clean dress was tied off onto one side. Being a servant had many advantages, and one of them was having better clothes and sandals to protect their feet from the hot ground.

“Go away, Wati!” and Chione flung a nearby rotten fig at her. She knew that she shouldn’t, especially at the head servant, but she couldn’t help it.

Wati screamed, a guard looked up, a whip came out, it all happened too fast, and next thing she knew, there was a lash across her back. Two seconds later she felt the searing pain, as if someone had drove a hot knife down her back.

“Oh, Sature, thank you but it really wasn’t necessary” Wati said in a honeyed voice that fooled everyone but Chione.

“I am doing but a guard’s job”

Chione hated those words as much as she hated Wati, for they always meant that she was in trouble. Daughter of a jackal she thought flirting with one just to use as a tool later, while she only has eyes for Pharaoh, she scowled, the swine.

After a half hour of washing and scowling and bearing the pain, she got up and walked over to the palace, basket full of shentis balanced on her hip. Her bare feet crunched on the hot gravel, and a cold breeze passed through her short, sleek, brown hair. After a few minutes, her feet touched the hard, cold, marble floor of the palace and she turned toward the stairs to the palace rooftop- Clothes dried much faster there. She glanced back at the gardens, and thought of how much she wished to be free. She looked forward and suddenly bumped into a figure. Wet shentis and honey cakes flew everywhere, and two youths fell to the ground.

“Watch where you’re going you-” but she stopped in mid-sentence, for she had bumped into Reshed.

“Ast!” he exclaimed” Chione look at what you’ve done, Nekonkh will kill me!”

“Ai! Reshed I am so sorry!” Chione bent down to pick the honey cakes up.

“No use now, Pharoah’s desert is ruined”

Chione gasped, she assumed they would be put away until the inundation feast. Forget Nekonkh, what would Pharaoh do? He was not in a very gracious mood; he was having a hard time of finding a wife for his eldest son, Ramses.

“Well maybe you can bake new ones” Chione desperately groped for an idea.

“Chione there is no time” just as Reshed finished his sentence, they saw that there, standing before them was Pharaoh. They had not heard approaching footsteps over their quarrel. Their foreheads automatically pressed against the hard, cold floor, bowing out of respect.

One look at the honey cakes made his

My ’smooth criminal’ asked:


I’m writing a story. I don’t know ANY publishers etc. I’m 13. So are there any processes or anything? Please suggest an e-mail/website where I can send it to:
Do you think I could get published? Here’s a rough sample:
Screams amongst the mass of dark mist. Loud roars, echoing thunder, striking lightning. And then… a loud wail. A baby’s cries chilling the sky. My breathing uneven, I squinted into the darkness.
“Jeremy!” a scream echoed around, so heavenly, yet pierced with the dark knives of fear. “Mum,” I muttered picking myself off the hard ground and running through the hell of blood and bones that was to be my home from now on.
“NO! Jeremy, stay away! Don’t…” The scream pierced the darkness one last time, when death’s shadow swept the body off the fallen hell on earth. The confusion fed the black tongues of flames licking against the terrain of anguish.
The darkness threatened my heart, prepared to give way. I recalled my mother’s shining face one last time. Ready to give way to the thirsty depths of hell. “Goodbye,” and then it came to me.
Why did my mother and father give their pure souls to the lords of hell? To keep me safe. Why did they leave their footprints amongst those who died fighting the ruthless? Me.
They wanted me out of the hell this land offered. Giving my life to it wasn’t going to repay them. “I have to fight,” I stuttered. “For their sake,” struggling I pushed myself of the rocks, denying the tongues of death what they so dearly thirsted for.
“I’ll keep… on fighting, I won’t let them…uh… take me,” the words slipped through my dry lips into the atmosphere, giving of hope amongst the sea of blood and agony. Groaning and straining, fighting the pain, trying to heal the scars and bruises, and the scar in my chest the recent death had carved I struggled to find a way out of the borders of Tenjoku, hell.
Spears of iron rip through the air, I duck. It missed me by inches. The searing pain in my hips moaned in suffering, as if a knife had been forced through the gaps, tearing away at the flesh and scarring the bones.
“They’re going to attack!” screamed a young warrior. A few years older than me. The future this land offered wasn’t very promising. “Who?” I gasped, not of terror. But the scars toughened my voice, splitting my vocal cords apart.
“The demons!” he yelled at me. “Demons? There aren’t such…” and then out of nothingness a malformed beast burst out of the shadows, clearing it, yet making it even harder to see.
A dog, no, the dog seemed to be twenty times larger than a lion. I stared at its fur, splattered with blood. Its snout gushing out fire. Its eyes swimming with pure hatred. It eyed the humans, towering over them, seemingly stroking the moon; it gave of a harsh laugh and snorted.
Flames flew out of its nostrils. Miles away I could feel them burning my skin, blackening it. I could hear it howl, but my eyes seemed to be rotting. The fire must have had some strong gas in it.
Tears started forming, but as they fell to the ground they were red, clearly above boiling point for smoke was clearly rising from it, small wisps yet they were there. I could no longer see the reason my parents had given away their lives.
I was going to die right now whether I like it or not. This is only one demon and I’m sure it’s weaker than the rest for I could already hear the victorious roars of hell’s lords.
More screams, roars, heavier mist, foul stenches in the air then… black-out.
I’m Jeremy Emerson. Normal name you’d expect from a normal kid with normal parents and a normal life. Not me. My life was dammed the second I opened my eyes. My future has been ripped apart in front of my eyes. My reason to live stolen away from me.
All I could remember from my past were two things: The terror of Tenjoku and my mother’s angelic lullaby. The only thing in this world that kept me alive. Knowing your parents are dead is one thing, but knowing they were killed by harsh lords from hell is another.
I don’t know what they were like. I can’t quiet recall anything about them. My past is a mystery and it shall always be so. My future is crystal clear though…suffering. The sort of future a child born in hell would be pledged.

Do you need to be of age?

Hp4eva!!!{DA} asked:


My friend is around 10 and Im 13 so im posting this up for her.Please answer honestly

Screams amongst the mass of dark mist. Loud roars, echoing thunder, striking lightning. And then… a loud wail. A baby’s cries chilling the sky. My breathing uneven, I squinted into the darkness.

“Jeremy!” a scream echoed around, so heavenly, yet pierced with the dark knives of fear. “Mum,” I muttered picking myself off the hard ground and running through the hell of blood and bones that was to be my home from now on.

“NO! Jeremy, stay away! Don’t…” The scream pierced the darkness one last time, when death’s shadow swept the body off the fallen hell on earth. The confusion fed the black tongues of flames licking against the terrain of anguish.

The darkness threatened my heart, prepared to give way. I recalled my mother’s shining face one last time. Ready to give way to the thirsty depths of hell. “Goodbye,” and then it came to me.

Why did my mother and father give their pure souls to the lords of hell? To keep me safe. Why did they leave their footprints amongst those who died fighting the ruthless? Me.

They wanted me out of the hell this land offered. Giving my life to it wasn’t going to repay them. “I have to fight,” I stuttered. “For their sake,” struggling I pushed myself of the rocks, denying the tongues of death what they so dearly thirsted for.

“I’ll keep… on fighting, I won’t let them…uh… take me,” the words slipped through my dry lips into the atmosphere, giving of hope amongst the sea of blood and agony. Groaning and straining, fighting the pain, trying to heal the scars and bruises, and the scar in my chest the recent death had carved I struggled to find a way out of the borders of Tenjoku, hell.

Spears of iron rip through the air, I duck. It missed me by inches. The searing pain in my hips moaned in suffering, as if a knife had been forced through the gaps, tearing away at the flesh and scarring the bones
“They’re going to attack!” screamed a young warrior. A few years older than me. The future this land offered wasn’t very promising. “Who?” I gasped, not of terror. But the scars toughened my voice, splitting my vocal cords apart.

“The demons!” he yelled at me. “Demons? There aren’t such…” and then out of nothingness a malformed beast burst out of the shadows, clearing it, yet making it even harder to see.

A dog, no, the dog seemed to be twenty times larger than a lion. I stared at its fur, splattered with blood. Its snout gushing out fire. Its eyes swimming with pure hatred. It eyed the humans, towering over them, seemingly stroking the moon; it gave of a harsh laugh and snorted.
Flames flew out of its nostrils. Miles away I could feel them burning my skin, blackening it. I could hear it howl, but my eyes seemed to be rotting. The fire must have had some strong gas in it.

Tears started forming, but as they fell to the ground they were red, clearly above boiling point for smoke was clearly rising from it, small wisps yet they were there. I could no longer see the reason my parents had given away their lives.

I was going to die right now whether I like it or not. This is only one demon and I’m sure it’s weaker than the rest for I could already hear the victorious roars of hell’s lords.

More screams, roars, heavier mist, foul stenches in the air then… black-out
I’m Jeremy Emerson. Normal name you’d expect from a normal kid with normal parents and a normal life. Not me. My life was dammed the second I opened my eyes. My future has been ripped apart in front of my eyes. My reason to live stolen away from me.

All I could remember from my past were two things: The terror of Tenjoku and my mother’s angelic lullaby. The only thing in this world that kept me alive. Knowing your parents are dead is one thing, but knowing they were killed by harsh lords from hell is another.

I don’t know what they were like. I can’t quiet recall anything about them. My past is a mystery and it shall always be so. My future is crystal clear though…suffering. The sort of future a child born in hell would be pledged.
The windows of my childhood are heavily covered, the only memories I remember are the howling of demonic creatures, screams of men and women alike and the wail of a baby amongst the dark mist plating the somber earth.

I was promised the worst death the seconds I opened my eyes.. The death I deserved for so arrogantly leaving aside the lives of the children in Tenjoku, leaving the demon lords to destroy the once beautiful land, the happiness of its residents though I could have so easily saved them.

I’ve always hated demons, from the depth of my soul I would vow to slay all demons, knowing it is impossible, yet dreaming…seeing hope. They’re stronger than they seem (even when they s
sorri dumb yahoo answers cut it off ill post it here

seem strong).

I lived with my uncle, Leon, and aunt, Reni, and their children, Zeke, Emma and Ella. Zeke and I are youngest, at fourteen. Emma and Ella are sixteen and fifteen. I like Zeke and Ella but Emma-not so much…she’s way too on the stuck-up side of the scale.

It’s known that you don’t believe things until you see them, which gave me reason not to believe in many things…but I never knew I’ll be meeting one of those “things” sooner than I thought.

It begins on a Friday like no other.

My ’smooth criminal’ asked:


Hell’s Hounds
Screams amongst the mass of dark mist. Loud roars, echoing thunder, striking lightning. And then… a loud wail. A baby’s cries chilling the sky. My breathing uneven, I squinted into the darkness.
“Cazpian!” a scream echoed around, so heavenly, yet pierced with the dark knives of fear. “Mum,” I muttered picking myself off the hard ground and running through the hell of blood and bones that was to be my home from now on.
“NO! Cazpian, stay away! Don’t…” The scream pierced the darkness one last time, when death’s shadow swept the body off the fallen hell on earth. The confusion fed the black tongues of flames licking against the terrain of anguish.
The darkness threatened my heart, prepared to give way. I recalled my mother’s shining face one last time. Ready to give way to the thirsty depths of hell. “Goodbye,” and then it came to me.
Why did my mother and father give their pure souls to the lords of hell? To keep me safe. Why did they leave their footprints amongst those who died fighting the ruthless? Me.
They wanted me out of the hell this land offered. Giving my life to it wasn’t going to repay them. “I have to fight,” I stuttered. “For their sake,” struggling I pushed myself of the rocks, denying the tongues of death what they so dearly thirsted for.
“I’ll keep… on fighting, I won’t let them…uh… take me,” the words slipped through my dry lips into the atmosphere, giving of hope amongst the sea of blood and agony. Groaning and straining, fighting the pain, trying to heal the scars and bruises, and the scar in my chest the recent death had carved I struggled to find a way out of the borders of Tenjoku, hell.
Spears of iron rip through the air, I duck. It missed me by inches. The searing pain in my hips moaned in suffering, as if a knife had been forced through the gaps, tearing away at the flesh and scarring the bones.
“They’re going to attack!” screamed a young warrior. A few years older than me. The future this land offered wasn’t very promising. “Who?” I gasped, not of terror. But the scars toughened my voice, splitting my vocal cords apart.
“The demons!” he yelled at me. “Demons? There aren’t such…” and then out of nothingness a malformed beast burst out of the shadows, clearing it, yet making it even harder to see.
A dog, no, the dog seemed to be twenty times larger than a lion. I stared at its fur, splattered with blood. Its snout gushing out fire. Its eyes swimming with pure hatred. It eyed the humans, towering over them, seemingly stroking the moon; it gave of a harsh laugh and snorted.
Flames flew out of its nostrils. Miles away I could feel them burning my skin, blackening it. I could hear it howl, but my eyes seemed to be rotting. The fire must have had some strong gas in it.
Tears started forming, but as they fell to the ground they were red, clearly above boiling point for smoke was clearly rising from it, small wisps yet they were there. I could no longer see the reason my parents had given away their lives.
I was going to die right now whether I like it or not. This is only one demon and I’m sure it’s weaker than the rest for I could already hear the victorious roars of hell’s lords.
More screams, roars, heavier mist, foul stenches in the air then… black-out.
I’m Cazpian Emmet. Normal name you’d expect from a normal kid with normal parents and a normal life. Not me. My life was dammed the second I opened my eyes. My future has been ripped apart in front of my eyes. My reason to live stolen away from me.
All I could remember from my past were two things: The terror of Tenjoku and my mother’s angelic lullaby. The only thing in this world that kept me alive. Knowing your parents are dead is one thing, but knowing they were killed by harsh lords from hell is another.
I don’t know what they were like. I can’t quiet recall anything about them. My past is a mystery and it shall always be so. My future is crystal clear though…suffering. The sort of future a child born in hell would be pledged.
The windows of my childhood are heavily covered, the only memories I remember are the howling of demonic creatures, screams of men and women alike and the wail of a baby amongst the dark mist plating the somber earth.
I was promised the worst death the seconds I opened my eyes. The death I deserved for so arrogantly leaving aside the lives of the children in Tenjoku, leaving the demon lords to destroy the once beautiful land, the happiness of its residents though I could have so easily saved them.

I am nine years old. I’m not lying.
thankyou. i mean thank you. I’m not really that good at those sort of spelling things.
my parents said it’s okay if I go on yahoo answers. I’ve asked.

Aris S asked:


The intruder’s blade hit the floor with an evil hiss. At this point Jaden cried out. He couldn’t take it, things were so wrong; the intruders never were like this before. It was always a quick little battle, in which his parents and the intruders spared off. Then it was over; they shook hands and the intruders left. His father told him it was to make sure they were ready at any time. But they never fought like this, no one ever died.
Jane turned when she heard blades clash behind her. But by the time she had reacted Samuel had already dispatched the intruder. She went to turn back; however, her attention was riveted as her son cried out. Panic overwhelmed her and she began to devise a way to escape with him. Too late, she realized that she should have been focusing on the intruder in front of her. In a flash she collapsed to the ground, a small scream erupted from her throat before she was rendered silent from the shock; the third lightning spell had found its mark. Jane realized all too late the intruder was better than he let on; he was able to cast with a whisper. And even worse, he managed to cast it with immense power. Struck helpless by the blast, she was unable to even twitch her now senseless body.
Samuel heard his wife’s scream join in with his sons. Spinning around he caught the blade of the intruder with his sword as it lunged towards Jane’s body for the final blow. The intruder quickly withdrew his now red hot blade; two more intruders appeared from the dust joining their comrade. They were obviously spell casters as they had no sword drawn, and were already preparing to cast.
“Binding Art: 9th Restraint” the new intruders shouted together; joining hands as they appeared.
At the word ‘9th’, Samuel knew he had precious little time before he would suffer the same fate as his now disabled wife. He threw his dagger, still aflame, at the nearest spell caster. The intruders however, were ready for this; the first intruder stepped forward, intending to deflect the flaming dagger. Shock crossed his face as the dagger cut straight through his sword striking him solidly in the chest, suffering the same fate as his comrade. He collapsed silently to the floor; but left the spell casters still standing, and about to unleash their spell.
“Shield Ar…” Samuel tried to speak just as he was hit with beams of black light. The beams imprisoned him so tightly inside their darkness, he couldn’t breathe, let alone speak. He didn’t see the blade as a sharp pain ignited through his chest; the horrible irony to be killed by his own blade overcame him. The fire seared upwards as someone pushed the curved dagger in deeper. He wished he could shout to his son to run, but it was too late, he was going to die soon, and his prison was inescapable. Samuel was barely alive as the prison disappeared and the blade withdrew; he collapsed onto Jane’s body. She was barely conscious, and it was obvious they had struck her to keep her down. As he stared into her eyes, he saw terror reflecting in them, as she watched him die. He couldn’t bare the agony.
It got worse; a steel dagger suddenly plunged towards her throat. He summoned all he had left to lunge in front of the dagger; desperate to save the life of his dearly beloved wife.
Jaden watched as his father died, trying to save his mother. She looked as if she would scream, but she couldn’t, and they soon made sure she never would. A stream of blue lightning lit the room as they chanted and directed the energy into his parents’ bodies. Then their attention turned towards Jaden, who was now crying on the floor.
A sword was drawn, a step taken, and a towering intruder was above Jaden, poised to end his life. But before the sword could be swung, a man in a black cloak ripped apart the intruder with a series of blinding slashes. The others began to react, but before their hands were even above waist level they were cut down with such force the wooden staircase behind them was blown into fragments. The force of the attack blew the dust from the room, revealing Jaden’s parents bodies; chard and lifeless for him to see.
The cloaked figure grabbed the body of an intruder, picking it up effortless. He dropped it before Jaden, allowing it to crash roughly into the floor. He simply pointed to the shoulder of the intruder. On his shoulder was the symbol “SYTH”; the king’s elite troops. These were the ones called to kill the highest of priority targets. Jaden soon realized what just happened. The king had ordered his parents’ death; and even his own. Whoever this man was, he saved Jaden, and so when he beckoned to him, Jaden decided to follow the man as he walked out of the shattered house.

This is the continuation, the first part is here
http://answers.yahoo.com/question/index?qid=20081024091711AAfsamx&r=w
If you don’t have the time to read this then don’t respond. It just takes more time-Kat B

Ink asked:


I had a lot of trouble writing this. I’m not sure why, but it just felt really forced and awkward. Let me know what you think about it and if you have any recommendations. I’m sorry but this scene totally isn’t going to make any sense. I apologize but I really need help on this particular scene. Oh, but you’ll need to know that the main girl is a witch. That might help some of the confusion.

I was confused. I didn’t know where I was. Panic rose in my throat and I opened my mouth to try to speak, but no words came out. I clutched my throat, terror pounding in my veins, and tried to scream. Again no sound came out.
I was standing in a doorway of a darkened room. Towards the center of the room before me, there was a soft white low. In that soft white glow there stood three people: a man and two small girls.
One of the girls was unnaturally pale, her skin glowing a silvery blue, and her heavy head of glossy ink black hair was much to dark to look right against her skin. I knew her haughty, arrogant face well, much to well. No, I wanted to gasp, but of course I could not speak, so no sound left me.
The girl standing beside the cold looking dark-haired girl was much smaller. She was tiny, with a head that looked to large for her thin body. Her golden curls spilled over her shoulders and her pale eyebrows were drawn in a pleading way over her light violet eyes. And the man, tall and thin, with his unhealthy grayish skin, slanting slit-like eyes, thick straight-across eyebrows, and greasy black hair towered over them like a dark shadow.
“Please, Lily, just speak! One word! I know you can!” the fair haired child urged the dark haired girl. The other girl pressed her lips into a thin line and shook her head, sending her heavy dark hair twisting slowly about her head.
“Speak, child!” the man yelled. He knelt and grabbed the girl by her shoulders, shaking her and making her head whip around.
“Stop! You’re hurting her!” the blonde girl screamed. “Please stop!”
The man ignored the girls frantic attempts to make him release the child in his grasp.
“Speak! You are seven years old and have never said a word! Speak!” the man screamed in the girls face. “I know you can!” Her eyes narrowed and she shook her head fiercely. The man screeched, the horrible noise filling my ears and making the hairs on the back of my neck rise, and threw the girl harshly too the ground. She hit the floor with a sickening ***** and lay crumpled into a dark heap.
“Lily!” the girl yelled hysterically, running to the fallen girl and brushing her heavy hair back from her face. “Lily, wake up!” She was crying now, tears streaming down her face and dropping onto the still face of the girl beside her.
“Fine,” the man snarled. “Maybe you’ll speak to save your little friend!” A claw-like hand reached out and snatched the blonde girl by her wrist, lifting her from the ground and suspending her in midair.
The crumpled girl raised herself into sitting position. Her eyes were wide with fury, dark eyebrows drawn low over those piercing eyes.
“Speak or she dies!” the man, quite beside himself now, yelled. He laughed manically and held one palm out. Hovering an inch over his palm was a wicked looking blue flame. He held it closer to the girls head. She screamed and began thrashing.
“Please, Lily!” she sobbed. “He’s hurting me.”
“NO!” There was a blinding flash of violet light, a long, high scream pierced the air and there was the sound of a body hitting the floor when the scream ended. The light cleared and I could see the dark haired girl had pulled the limp body of her friend into her arms. She did not cry, but her face was contoured in rage and sorrow. She stared fiercely up at the man.
“She’s dead!” she screamed at him. He smiled down at the girl, clearly pleased that she was now speaking.
“People die every day,” he said casually. He knelt beside the girl and lifted her chin up with long, spidery fingers. “But it was not I who killed her.” He patted her dark head and left her and the other little girl there.
“I’m so sorry,” the now speaking girl said. She squeezed the blonde girl’s small hand. “I didn’t mean to.”
The light was growing brighter, I could not longer see the two girls. I screamed and this time it made a sound. My eyes flew open just as I was falling. I hit the floor with the same loud ***** as the girl had when Master had thrown her.
Hot, salty tears were streaming from my eyes. Sobs racked my body, making it impossible to breath. Each breath was short and painful, it seared my throat like fire. My chest rose and fell rapidly. I clasped my hand over my heart trying to slow it down.
I was tangled in my silvery bed sheets. It had all been a dream. But it wasn’t a dream. It was a memory. A horrible, horrible memory. A memory that I had been suppressing for almost nine years. It had finally made its way into my subconscious.
The memory cut me like a knife. The anger at Master, the anger at myself, spread l
The memory cut me like a knife. The anger at Master, the anger at myself, spread like wild fire. The pain over loosing my one and only friend tore at my heart. But I hadn’t just lost her, I had killed her myself.
“Lily!” The door banged open and Holly burst in. “Oh, God!” She hurried to my side. I curled myself into a ball and pressed my tear-streaked face into the sheets that were tangled about my willowy frame.
I felt her thin arms scoop me up and pull me into her lap. She pressed me to her chest like a mother would a small child and rocked me back and forth. One of her hands pulled through my tangled and sweaty mass of hair over and over again and the other stroked my flushed cheek tenderly.
“It’s okay, Lily, I’m here. You’re alright,” she murmured. She gave me a tight squeeze and did not let go.
I clung to Holly like a squirrel to a tree. My long body was still curled into a tight ball with my legs drawn up to my chest, a position that greatly restricted my breathing. I dr
I drew in one rattling breath.
“I’m so sorry,” I sobbed. “It was an accident. I’m so sorry, Cecilia.”
Okay, here’s sort of what I need
1. I don’t really like the beginning, it feels very weird to me
2. when Lily finally speaks she screams no, do you think that she should scream something else?
3. Is the name Cecilia okay or should I do something different?
4. I say girl a lot…any suggestions of other things to call them. Beside child because I used that about 20 times too
Oh, thank you!
Maybe it was’t as forced as I thought, thanks guys
and because I usually get this asked I will clear it up in advace. I am fourteen. and I wrote this about ten minutes ago….
Oh, and in case anyone was wondering, this is the end of chapter ten

~MissW.~ Loves To Write asked:


The flame, so flickering and speckled in heat, danced behind the peasant girl. It warmed her back. Her eyelids drooped in sleep. The next second, she had nodded off. The peasant girl, Mavis, was greeted with a dream….
The skies, cloudy and stormy, flooded with a brilliant blue light. It was as if a searing hot match had been struck in the heavens, and the flame sputtered with intense heat…such intense heat that it had flooded into a sapphire hue.
Mavis gazed up. Her neck strained, as though looking up were a great difficulty. Squinting in the brightness, she shielded her face with a hand…a hand she realized was gloved. How did she come to own a glove? She was just a poor peasant girl, making a living delivering letters in Little Minnet. In fact, the glove was silky and soft, with lace tickling her wrist. It was such an exquisite accessory.
Then her vision dimmed, the sky dissolving in a swirl of blues and pasty grays. Just as quickly, the darkness lifted, and she found herself at the top of a castle tower. Clearly, she stood at highest point in the building, for all the other towers looked extraordinarily tiny from where she was. Mavis felt dizzy as she leaned over the parapet. Vertigo slid through her veins.
“Where am I?” she whispered, but the wind shattered her words.
A more gentle breeze whispered, tugging at her long pale hair. It rustled the fabric of her gown. And suddenly, she realized she was clad in a strikingly beautiful gown. The train, generously sprinkled in rubies, swept the stone floor at her feet. Its sleeves were edged in plenty of soft lace, the full scarlet skirt festooned in bows. She also wore the silken glove. This puzzled her even more. For goodness sake, she was a peasant, not a queen!
Swiftly, the wind picked up into a roaring gale. Wind rushed through the tiny green blotches that were trees, far below. It screamed as it shifted between the tall, slender towers of the castle; Mavis shivered, for it sounded almost human.
Again, her vision dimmed. But this time, she hadn’t left the castle.
***
Mavis’s eyes fluttered open. Darkness swallowed her. Where was she this time? Was this even a dream? It certainly felt like reality…no, she couldn’t be dreaming. This was most certainly real.
Groaning, she rolled over on her side. As her face pressed against the floor, wetness stuck to her cheek. It seeped through her gown to her skin, chilling her.