Alright, so if you haven't read my very messy Introduction to the series (it was posted a long time ago) you may want to do that. I haven't edited it yet, and it's still full of mistakes, but it'll clear things up for you xD
Anyways, I hope you enjoy this at least slightly! Thank in advance for any reviews/coments/critique you give me!
The Forgottens- Episode 1
I walk through the man who had just opened the door and scramble into the post office. I'm absolutely drenched from head to toe, and I can't stop shivering! I have once told you that the rain is something I love, and it is, but it can get annoying when you don't have the ability to open doors for yourself. Honestly.
The man who had opened the door is smiling, flirting with the woman across the counter. They can't be any younger than forty years old, and I swear that the man is married. Ah well, there's nothing I can do about it.
I shiver and wrap my arms around my body, staring at the water that's pooled on the floor under my feet. Strange how nobody's wondering about the mysterious puddle that's mysteriously forming on the floor. Of course, they would probably blame it on a leaky ceiling and place a bucket on the floor, which means I should probably get out of the way soon.
Sure enough, the woman behind the counter (Her name is Joanne if I'm remembering right.) looks up, right where I'm standing. “Darned roof must be leaking again. Excuse me for a moment please,” she says, an irritated tone edging her voice.
The man nods and Joanne disappears behind an old white door with chipped paint and a handle that looks like it has seen better days.
I wring my hair out as well as I can and fold the bottoms of my jeans up to stop the dripping. The rest of the floor is full of wet footprints and splattered water, so I doubt they'll actually notice a bit more of it on the floor anyways.
I step out of the way just as Joanne re-emerges from the little back room, white ice-cream pail in hand. I watch her stride over and set it down in front of me, and just for fun, I whip my damp arm through her head, snickering to myself when she shivers and makes some strange comment about having a headache. I probably shouldn't be doing that, but it can be so tempting.
“Bailey!”
I jump at the muffled sound of my name and spin around. Standing outside the single window in the post office is Darrius, another Forgotten. He's waving frantically and there's a horrified expression on his face.
I frown. Darrius is usually so calm. His creator made him that way, a laid-back poet from the Medieval ages, who was apparently supposed to defeat a dragon in the end of his book or something along those lines. His creator burned the novel ten chapters in.
I glance around me frantically, trying to find a way to get outside to Darrius. Something's got to be wrong, but what can I do?
The door to the post office opens a crack and I dart over to it, waiting for it to open enough for me to squeeze through. I don't care enough to pay attention to who just opened it, all that matters to me at the moment is figuring out what's wrong with Darrius.
I run around the corner of the building, making Darrius jump. “Don't startle me like that Bailey!” he hisses, voice low.
“Sorry,” I mutter, “what's wrong?”
He glances over his shoulder nervously before grabbing my arm and pulling me close, so that his lips are almost touching my ear. “You remember that dragon from my story?” he asks, voice hardly audible despite how close we are.
“Yeah. Baharo-something-or-other. Why?”
I haven't noticed how much Darrius has been trembling until now, and when he talks, his voice quivers. “He's here. I saw him down by the librarian's house about twenty minutes ago.”
My jaw drops. Just for the record, the dragon is the major villian in Darrius' story. We haven't heard from him since Darrius arrived here, and we hadn't really thought that his villain would actually search him out.
Stupid us.
“Well, you were supposed to defeat him in the end, weren't you?” I ask, the panic in my voice matching his.
He nods slowly, though his terrified expression doesn't change. “With the help of some magical stone according to my creator's planning sheets. But the stone never got written in! The book was burnt before it was even mentioned.”
Well. That just completely screws up everything. I frown, glancing over my shoulder quickly. A low rumble reaches my ears and I shiver. “This is just great. Absolutely wonderful,” I hiss. My eyes are prickling with tears, which I'm ashamed of. I don't think I've ever been this scared in my life. Save for when I first came into this world, that was the most terrifying experience of my life.
“Dariussss....”
I flinch at the voice. “It talks?!”
Dariuss nods. “We need to find the other Forgottens in town, they should be able to help,” he murmurs.
“Find them fast.” I quiver at what will happen to them if they're found and killed. You see, the Cherished are impossible to kill. They live forever, fat and happy and loved. Us Forgottens on the other hand, well, we're not so lucky. If we're killed then we don't we don't really die I guess, but we're condemned to some realm beyond this world. Or something like that. Nobody really knows for sure, because if you're sent there, you're stuck. Nobody's come back to tell us what it's like.
I would much rather stay here, thank you very much.
“And we need to get rid of my dragon before he starts messing around with the town's people.” Another point I had nearly forgotten until now.
You can't see us, can't hear us, but since we're very much here, we do have the ability to mess with your heads. Oh yes, this is much, much scarier for you than the fact that we share your precious oxygen supply. (If you remember how terrified you were when I told you that. If you were terrified at all.) Usually, if somebody has a strange urge or something that's normally uncharacteristic for them, you'll have us to thank. Usually the work of our villains.
I take a deep breath and grab Darrius's arm. “I know where we can find Desbora. She'll know what to do,” I whisper. Desbora is an old woman from yet another abandoned fantasy novel. She's stupidly wise, and a very good friend of mine. If anybody can help, it's her.
Darrius nods for about the hundredth time and says nothing.
Wings flap overhead and we both drop to our knees and cover our heads with our hands. My heart is nearly in my throat it's pounding so hard.
Darrius gets up quickly and pulls me to my feet, shoving me forwards. I stumble, but he grabs my arm before I can fall.
“Go!” he shouts, giving me another shove.
I hardly need the encouragement. I dart out from behind the post office, Darrius at my heels. The dragon thing is following, the sound of its apparently-massive wings flapping is chilling me to the bone. Or maybe it's the rain, I can't say for sure.
By the time I'm safely across the street and in between the grocery store and some sad excuse for a gift shop, I'm drenched all over again and absolutely mortified. I fall to my knees, glancing back the way I had come. Dariuss isn't there.
I crawl back to the edge of the building and scan the street. Dariuss is laying on the ground, motionless. There's blood oozing from the top of his head. I gasp and feel fresh tears springing to my eyes. Of course, he can't technically die, but never being able to see him again... I might as well kill myself and be sent to the Unknown Realms myself.
A loud flapping fills the air again and a scaly foot coils itself around Dariuss's body and plucks him from the ground.
I'm on my feet again, tears streaming down my cheeks. I can't lose him! I just can't! He was the first Forgotten I had ever met, he was the one who had helped me get over the rejection and fear I had felt. This is why I find myself shrieking his name, running out into the middle of the street.
The dragon turns his head and flicks his tongue at me before diving. I feel the tip of his giant talon scraping across the top of my head, and the world seems to fade. Dariuss is gone, and for all I know, I am, too.
TO BE CONTINUED...
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