Young Writers Society

Damien Locke

"Anything else I should know?"

"Nothing," Damien clipped lightly. "But let us talk for a while."

"Why?"

"Why? My dear Drake, I said I know your type. I am no killer, however. Those were rather menial tasks best left to those who enjoy them. The art of murder seems to get people into no end of trouble, no?"

Drake shifted in his seat, his eyes darkening. Damien watched him carefully. He needed to test Drake, to find his limits. Damien knew the man was not sworn to his side just yet. Damien needed to figure out more about his personality before Damien could ensure that Drake would.

"What are you saying?" Drake replied, his teeth gritted.

"What I am saying is this: Althought you may be perfect capable - willing, even - to mindlessly slaughter every agent who get in your way should I be captured, I am not. It is not in my nature to kill. I con. I use deception - I talk to my enemies. If I am to break you out effectivly, I need to know more about you."

Damien spread his arms out wide. "So what do you have to tell me?"

*What is the black shadow thing?*

~Nathaniel~

I blinked in confusion as the girl hurriedly took the pipe and stashed it away somewhere. How curious. And annoying. I considered for a moment the best way to try and weasel another look at it. Perhaps explaining it was a family heirloom...? But then her apparent attachment to it would suggest a similar claim. Damn.

The girl looked up. "Take your time," she said slowly. "The sign says nine til six, but I never really close up until I can beat rush hour."

I nodded in vague understanding, not really certain I understood what half the things in that sentence actually meant. What was rush hour again? Something to do with cars?? Well, it probably didn't matter much anyway.

Thinking for a moment, I opened my mouth to come up with some plausible reason why I should look at the pipe again, when a concerned look came over her face, and she bit her lip. "Actually, scrap what I said earlier." she said in a rush. "I've just remembered, we have to close early today. Sorry! Come back soon!" With that, I was shooed out of the shop and into the street. I stared at the shop in utter bewilderment as the door was slammed and the blinds were promptly closed. Well, that was strange...

I turned around, vaguely recalling something about going to work today. What was the time again? I patted my pockets quickly for my pocket watch, but I didn't seem to have it. Funny, I was sure I'd brought it with me when I left the flat earlier... I cast a glance back at the shop, wondering if I'd left it inside. Scowling, I quickly scanned the street for someone to get the time from. There was a girl walking silently down the pavement across the street from me, and I ran over to her, tapping her on the shoulder gently. "Excuse me, but do you have the time?"

She jumped about a mile, giving me a wary look.

*I tried to answer your question in the DT, kidashka.*


Gwynn

She flung herself at the window, grasping and dropping the “open” sign a few times before being able to flip it to the “closed” side. Hurry, hurry, hurry dimwit, hurry, she silently repeated to herself, her keys bouncing from one hand to the other in an attempt to lock the door.

A thin, black blanket was climbing the walls and ceiling, creeping over the hanging light bulb, trying to get a hold of her. “Just a minute!” she said in a screaming whisper. Gwynn leaped to the faded rug in the center of the room, now a dull black, but didn’t land for a good three minutes.

~+~

“I hate it when I get ornery old men!” she said, slouching down in the creaky chair with a huff. “They always make me feel so… so dirty.”

It had taken longer than usual, with the sky having turned pitch black in the time. Gwynn glanced over to the purple and pink, broken cuckoo. How the heck had it taken an hour…? “Oh, yeah,” she mumbled after thinking back. She shut her eyes tight. “The mourners wouldn’t scram.”

The A.C. kicked on with a low rumble and, almost on queue, the street lamp flicked to life outside. Rubbing her hands down her face she looked out the window. Her one possible customer was now gone, all thanks to the stupid job of being a Child.

She rubbed her hands down her face and stared at the floor. A little piece of something shiny caught her eye. Gwynn walked over to the toaster chair and squatted down to pick it up. It was a pocket watch, old, used, but in great condition. She opened it up. 1968. “Whoa,” she said under her breath. “How’d you get here?” Flipping the lid closed again Gwynn ran her thumb along the engravings, two beautiful, cursive initials.

“Oh, Lord…” she said loudly. Every time those two letters crossed her path, the man she never had the pleasure of meeting crossed her mind. “I think I hate these coincidences more than ornery old men.”

Elizabeth (Liza) Hamilton

I was still in the hold of my memory when a man tapped me on the shoulder. I jumped a foot in the air, I hope I didn't scare him. "Excuse me, but do you have the time?" he asked.

He looked a little freaked out, oops. I gave him a wary look and checked the time on my cell phone. "It is 6:17." I said, "Do you happen to know what time the library down the block closes? I am hoping to find a book."

He gave me a slight smile, "9 pm. I suppose I asked the right person for the time, I am heading down there myself."

Charlotte "Kitten"

The fireman - Charlotte thought she heard someone call him Rob - turned and ran into the building. The cloud that had surrounded Charlotte's head disappeared immedeately, as if a huge gust of wind had blown through.

"Don't go in there!" Charlotte screamed. She jumped up and ran after him. Other firemen tried to grab her, but she pushed them away. As she ran she untied the ribbon from her wrist and used it to hold her hair back.

Rob either didn't hear her, or didn't care what she was saying. He was bound and determined to get Ezmerelda's body. Charlotte had to stop him. She had set that fire, she knew how bad it was in there. A human like Rob wouldn't stand a chance with not only the flames, but with the unstable structure of the ancient building.

Charlotte entered the dark, smoky shop and stopped. She couldn't see him. She couldn't see anything. "Rob?" she called, coughing on smoke. He was going for the body- where had it been? "Rob where are you?"

A familiar feeling tugged at Charlotte's conciousness. If the shop wasn't in its current state, she was sure she would be able to see the shadows creeping in around her to take her to some poor dying soul. "Rob? Rob you have to get out of here!" She fumbled around the shop, hoping to find him before she disappeared.

"Rob! Get out of here! It's not safe!" she shouted. The fireman's face came into view, their eyes locking just as the shadows wrapped around Charlotte and whisked her away. She wondered if he had noticed, hoping maybe he didn't, but she knew he did. She only hoped he took it as his imagination and would leave with the other firefighters before she reappeared.

Action. That’s what we need.


Gwynn – Two Days Later

Her fingers traced the letters over and over, the once shiny metal now dull and unpolished, grimy tracks following the curves of the initials. There had been something about that man that had made him stay in her mind. His attitude was refreshing, like the adults from her childhood oddly enough. But there was something that made him feel even closer.

When the bell tied to the door chimed Gwynn sharply looked up at her customer. He looked like secret service material, with his ironed black tuxedo and dark sunglasses attempting to cover his identity. “Can I help you?” she asked after regaining her composure. The man walked up to her desk in silence. There, he asked her for her name, which she hesitantly answered by saying, “Cathy, but you’re way too old for me. Thanks though.”

The man didn’t grin but simply said, “Of course, Gwen. I’ve been told you have certain skills, and I am very interested in knowing the details.”

Oh, this is swell. They know where I work now? “It’s not ‘Gwen’ with an ‘eh’, stupid, it’s ‘Gwynn’ with an ‘ih’. And I’m perfectly normal, like you-- well, I guess you aren’t normal, so scratch that. Now shove off before I call the police. ”

“I’m above the police,” he said shortly, reaching for his pocket. Before Gwynn had time to react there was a gun at her head. The man continued. “You’re immortal, not invincible. A bullet in your skull and you’ll be out like a light. Don’t try anything.”

Now would be a fantastic time for someone to die. Far, far away.

He grabbed her arm and pulled her up out of the chair, pushing her through the door. Through the window she saw a man walking down the sidewalk. Now or never, she thought, taking in a long breath. She let it out with the loudest scream her voice box would allow, fighting and kicking with the words, “Help! Help me!”

The last noises she heard were the door opening, people talking, and the gunshot.

Leah:

As I walked to the pawn shop I heard a girl scream "Help! Help me!" The man in front of me got there first but as soon as I saw the man and the girl I knew. I jumped on the man and hit his arm away from the girl's head. The other man yelled something at me I payed no attention to. The gun fired somewhere but not at the man. If it did then I wasn't the one to claim his life.

Still tackling the man I wrapped my arm around his neck in a chokehold. He flipped me off his back, infront of him, and on the floor on my back. Even though I'm dead it hurt like crazy! Spinning around on the floor I kicked the man's legs and he toppled over.

Jumping ontop of him again I wrapped my arm tightly around his neck in a headlock and pressed on his back with my other hand so that if he moved I could snap his neck. Just thinking about it made it feel like my father's hands were around my throat again. This just fueled my anger. The girl was on the floor passed out but I wasn't sure if she was shot or not.

I leaned down to the man and growled low enough that only he could hear "When I get up you are going to leave, you won't say anything to anyone, and you will never hurt anyone again whether they're dead or alive. Got that? And If you try anything I will kill you the same way my father killed me."

At the last part I tightened my hold on his throat and continued "Is that clear? You can not hurt me," lie "you can not kill me, and I swear that if you try to kill anyone I will make sure that you die the most unnatural death that is humanly possible and that you will be stuck with the same fate as the rest of us. Am I clear?"

Charlotte "Kitten"

When Charlotte had returned to the burned out shop, Rob had still been sitting there. Waiting for her. And the other firemen had left.

She had emerged from the shadows he was sitting there in the dark. He stopped her from leaving, wanted to talk to her. He knew what she was. Luckily, he wasn't one of those people that Charlotte had heard about. He wasn't one of those government pigs who wanted the Children for their own purposes. He was like her.

Today, two days after the fire, she was going to meet him. They hadn't had much time to talk before, and when you meet another Child of Hades you tend to take the time to talk with someone who understands.

Charlotte sat alone at a table in a little cafe, down the street from a pawn shop she spent some time buying books in a few weeks before. Rob hadn't arrived yet, and she started to feel nervous about the descending shadows from the forested area that bordered the opposite side of the street.

Robert Sansom

It was ridiculous that I should feel so nervous, buttoning my shirt and straightening my tie in front of the mirror. In it I could see the reflection of my fascinated teenage daughter watching me, cramming cheetos into her mouth. I smiled. And then I wondered when she started wearing those clothes, damn that girl! It was probably on purpose, just to get a rise out of me. She didn't go out like that, surely? "Kim-"

"Is it a woman, daddy?" She managed to make it an accusation. I knew what she was thinking. Kim wanted it to be a woman but knew it wouldn't be, she knew I didn't date. She didn't understand it and I couldn't explain. Of course not! Listen hon, I don't date women because I'm dead and corpses don't make good husbands. Oh yeah, that would go down so well.

"Just dinner with a colleague," I told her.

"A female colleague?" Her eyes were bulging and I pushed her gently as I left the room.

"Be good for the baby sitter." She pulled a face and I didn't need a translater to tell me that it was teenage girl for 'I'm too old to have a baby-sitter Daddy!' I almost agreed with her except- I couldn't be too careful. I'd heard the news of course, we were being hunted and while I was safer than most, I wasn't going to put kidnapping past them.

The cafe was small and quiet. Perfect. I looked around as I entered, panicked for a moment as I wondered if she'd stood me up but then I saw her. Stood me up? This wasn't a date. Hell, she was barely older than Kim, probably no more then four or five... try forty or fifty idiot. I realised I had no idea how old she was.

Sitting down, I showed her a friendly, if slightly cautious smile. "Charlotte," I greeted her, "Thank you for coming."

"Thank you for having me," she said, tucking her brown hair behind her ears. She looked as nervous as I felt so I smiled again and tried to break the tension.

"Well then. This is all kinds of awkward huh?"

~Nathaniel~
I held the limp girl in my arms with some distress as the man ran from the shop without a second glance. Leah stood up with a look of satisfaction, dusting her hands lightly before wandering over to glance at the pawn shop girl.

"She was out cold when we got here," I inform her gravely, a frown flickering across my features. Leah nods and crouches down to lay a palm across the girl's forehead. "I'll see if there's any medicine," I offer before getting up to search the back rooms.

After a moment of searching around on the front desk, I find the key that's crudely hidden under the till, and use it to unlock the backroom. Leah peers over at me distrustfully from across the room, watching as I enter the dusty room and look around. There must be a first aid box somewhere... Hang on. The box from earlier... the one that Pawn Shop Girl had had. The pipe was in there. Forgetting the first aid, I pick up the black box, examining it closely. Ugh, it's too dark to see anything.

I bring it out into the clearer light of the main shop, still scrutinising it with anxiety.

"What's that?" Leah asks suspiciously, and I look up with an expression of guilt. "What happened to 'first aid'? She's-" There's a cough from Pawn Shop Girl, and Leah stops as we both watch with baited breath.

Pawn Shop Girl sits up groggily, squinting around the room. "...What just happened...?"

Elizabeth (Liza) Hamilton **I needed some action too, someone want to help me out with this?

I noticed a darkness creeping on the floor from the corner of my eye. Awh now? Really now? I swear to god one of these days I am going to lose my job. This is the third time this week the shadows have come in the middle of a busy shift. "Not, now." I hissed, "Go away."

"Pardon miss?" asked an elderly man.

Did I say that out loud? "Nothing sir, right this way." I said, flashing him a smile andleading him to his table.

I could feel the darkness pulling me away, I fought it. It couldn't take me, not here, not in front of all these people. "I will be back shortly to take your order." I told the man. I ran past the kitchen and into the small storage room in the back. Just in time too, I blinked and opened my eyes, the shadows had taken me to a bank.

"Great," I muttered, "Who am I supposed to take?"

"Everybody drop! On the floor now!" yelled a masked man, oh god he had a gun.

Almost forgot about this SB. Woops! Sorry for the wait, Potter.

Drake

"...I'm a carpenter", I said after some thought. I really wasn't anybody. I was a killer, and it's all I wanted to be. I wanted people to die. Why I did this, because it was unique and different. People would die anyways, and there was a slight creative lisence that I wanted to take in the process of death. But as far as anybody needed or could see, I was a killer and a carpenter.

"Nothing else?"

"Nope"

"Just a killer and a carpenter?". He took the words right out of my head.

"Yes. Can I go to bed now?"

Damien rolled his eyes. He started walking towards the door. One more thing hit me though.

"Do you know any of the others like us?", I asked him, "Other Children?"

**My latest excuse for this post being so short: I’m exhausted and brain dead, and I spent all of yesterday trying to think of a way to get this scenario to be realistic. The result being that I thought up nothing.**

Gwynn

“What just happened…?” she said in a moan, sitting up and putting a hand to her pulsating head. One of the people in the room started to answer, her voice echoing from the front of Gwynn’s brain to the back. “No, please… My head…” She gently laid back down in the sticky puddle. Puddle? …Oh, no.

Someone knelt down beside her. “You’re bleeding heavily,” said the girl. Woman. Or was she a cuckoo? No, that one was coming from the wall. This was a woman, her voice doubling over and face a messy blur. She turned and called out behind her, “Put the box down and get the first aid, would you?” There was a thump and a few ricocheting footsteps.

The woman tilted Gwynn’s head to the side and gasped very quietly. There’s a hole, huh? she thought behind a groan. Yeah, I thought I felt a rock in brain. But did I have to start bleeding? Really, that is seriously going to blow my--

“Come look at this,” said the woman to her companion once he came back, carefully brushing Gwynn’s hair to one side to expose the wound. “She was shot in the head, and she’s still alive”

Saphire
I woke up with a start and a splitting headache. I felt something tugging me and I looked around for the usual shadows but there was none. I shook my head and changed into a red tanktop black skirt thigh high flat black boots sticking a pocket knife in one just as precaution my usual black choker and ran a brush through my hair. I pulled on my black sweater grabbed my Ipod and walked out of my apartment building and down to the bookstore I stepped inside and opened the door and closed it behind me. I walked into the back room and heard the door open the bell above it ringing loudly. I turned and walked. There was a man who looked like a police man but didn't have the feel. "I am sorry sir but we are closed until 9 am it is currently 7:20 so if you would please leave and come back later it would be much appreciated." I said sweetly. "What's your name?" He asked. "Raven." I lied. He chuckled once. "Nice try Saphire." I froze and stared in disbelief at him. "I believe you have certain abilities that may be of interest to the US goverment." He said. I smirked and flicked my hair over one shoulder. "I have no idea what you are talking about and if you would excuse me I need to get to work." I said coldly. I turned but he pulled out a gun and pointed it at my head. "If you pull that trigger you will be committing murder." I said coolly my hands on my hips but my heart racing. "No I won't you are immortal and a Child of Hades." He said coldly. My hand inched down into the space behind the desk my finger closing around a copy of The Shining a hardcover copy. "No idea." I said still smirking. He cocked the pistol and my hand flicked up the book spinning and it's corner hitting his forehead. He clasped a hand to his head and started to roar curse words. I ran into the backroom and locked the door my heart racing. "Come out Saphire." He said pounding on the door. "Buzz off!" I screamed. He sighed and then walked away from the door and I breathed a sigh of relief. Then I smelled smoke and saw the flicker of flames underneath the back door. I pressed my back to the door and stared in horror at the black smoke pouring under the door. I screamed as loud as I could high pitched screams that raised over the sound of the traffic and people talking. "HELP HELP ME!!!!" I screamed over and over again.