This is the first chapter of a novel i'm currently working on. This is the total first draft, so it's pretty rough, and i don't know how much sense it will make, being barley into the story. I hope you like it!!
Also, these are the things i would like to know the most:
*are my characters realistic.
*if its too confusing for a first chapter.
*if its too short. the second half has been written already, and the chapters average from 7 to 10 pages. In here, they average about 4.
*how can i make it longer.
Rain
I was in battle. Blood splattered me, hot and wet. I stood there in the middle of it all, unsure of what to do.
A bullet flew by me. I felt it rather then saw it as it skinned my cheek. Fear welled up inside of me. I could die here.
Four years of battle training kicked in at that moment.
I drew my knives from my belt and lashed out. I had barely felt the blades connect before I yanked them back. I changed form seamlessly: boy to panther in mere seconds.
Then it was pure instinct. Slash, cut, bite. Look back. Always look behind you. Lunge. Whirl. Roll. Don’t get cornered. Slash. Bite. Cut. There’s one behind you. Lunge. Snarl. Don’t hit the tree. Don’t get killed. Survival is everything. Cut. Snarl. Pounce.
As suddenly as it began, it was over.
I looked around for my next opponent. I could see no one, only the bodies of the dead.
What?
I couldn’t have killed them all. There had been so many . . .
I stood just there – a panther, covered in blood and gore – staring uncomprehendingly at the bodies around me.
There was a sound like a giant gong being hit, and everything dissolved into black smoke.
I groaned and opened my eyes. I was lying on the floor of a domed hall, no longer a panther, but in my first form, my human form.
The icy cold of the stone beneath me bled through my shirt, chilling me to the bone. I pushed myself into a sitting position, flexing my muscles slowly and checking for injuries.
I was completely unharmed.
I frowned, than stood, trying to get some kind of reaction out of my body.
Nothing.
That was impossible. Less than a minute ago I had been covered in blood, and some of it had to have been mine, hadn’t it?
I sighed. I would puzzle over that later.
I looked around, surveying the room around me. It was long, more of a corridor then a room, and completely bare except for a mirror on the wall directly in front of me.
Impulsively, I reached out toward the mirror, touching the cool glass with my fingertips. My reflection stared back at me, looking confused and wary. A woman stood behind me with her hand on my shoulder. Her hair was long and dark, braided down her back. Her eyes were dark too: a dark, warm chocolate brown. She was beautiful.
I grinned.
She smiled back at me, but her smile was sad. It was always sad, every time I say her, even though every time she made an effort to look happy. For me.
“Hi, Mom.” I whispered.
“Hi, baby.” She said.
“Why did you bring me here?” I asked, twisting around so I could see her, not her reflection.
She frowned. “I didn’t bring you here, Jace. I was going to ask you the same question.”
I bit my lip. “Then what happened?” I’ve never done that before. How did I do it?
“I don’t know, honey. I just don’t know.” I bit my lip harder. You’re my mother. I thought. You’re supposed to have all the answers. You’re supposed to tell me what to do. And I’m supposed to refuse.
A sound like a gong being hit filled the room. No! I thought. Not again!
Everything dissolved into black smoke.
“Jace. Jace, baby, you have to get up.” My mother’s voice penetrated my consciousness, and I blinked awake.
“What?” I said. The smoke was not gone. It swirled and twisted around me, obscuring my vision. Mom was little more than a blurred outline in the shadows.
I shivered involuntarily. I hated the dark.
“Jace, you have to go.” She said.
“Why?” I asked her, my voice bordering on a whine. Anger boiled in the pit of my stomach. I had had so little time with her tonight. But it always seemed like so little time. So little time compared to the fourteen years I had needed her.
“It’s not safe here, Jace, especially for you. You have to go.”
“Fine.” I muttered. I let myself fall back on the ground, landing in a bed of rotting leaves. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, letting my consciousness drift away.
I kept my eyes closed long after I woke, savoring my dream. Sometimes I wished I could stay in those dreams, where I knew I was safe and loved, luxuries I did not have in the waking world.
“Wake up! Come on, boy, wake up!” There was a loud pounding on my door, and Clark’s insistent voice filled the small room.
“Coming!” I called. I rolled out of bed, grabbed the first pair of socks I say – one red, the other blue, and neither of them mine – and yanked open the door. My brother leaned against the wall, watching me disapprovingly. He was half a head taller me and almost six years my senior. His hair was the same dark brown as our mother’s, but his eyes were darker, almost black. My own hair was dark blond, with black on the part, and my eyes were blue. I looked like a stranger in my own family.
“You’re going to be late, boy.” Clark said. He turned and stalked down the stairs. “And at least run a brush through your hair before you go out. You look like a street child.”
“I’m not a child.” I growled through gritted teeth. Few people could set me off as quickly and easily as my brother. Around him I was a stick of dynamite in a bonfire.
Clark chuckled. I ground my teeth together, clenching and unclenching my fists. The animal part of me, that part that was still a panther even when I looked human, screamed for me to attack. To eliminate the enemy. I struggled to keep it under control. The instinct was strong today, almost too strong. But I was stubborn, and I knew it would not be worth it. If I wanted to die, then I would attack Clark. In front of our father. It was more a reliable method then suicide.
With that in mind, I climbed down the stairs, trying to be as quiet as possible. I didn’t want Dad to hear me. I didn’t want to have to talk to him.
I closed the door and stepped out into the open, letting out a breath I didn’t know I had been holding. It was raining. Most people would have pulled their coat closer and hurried to the nearest cover. Not me.
I tilted my head back to look into the stormy gray sky. Icy rain drops fell on my face and slid into my hair. I smiled, something I hadn’t done in the waking world for longer than I could remember.
I stood there for a long time, letting the rain wash my worries away.
You have a good start, I think, and I'm interested in knowing more about these dreams of his, why he can see his mother in him, the whole panther thing (can he change into a panther in the real world?) and all the rest.
