Young Writers Society

Robert Sansom

I tried to kiss my daughter's head but she groaned and pulled away from me. "Daaaaaa-dyyyy, that's for babies!" Kim whined. I smiled at her and ruffled her chestnut curls.

"Have a good day, sweetheart, I love you." She pulled another face and then very quietly whispered that she loved me too before slipping out of the car and dashing off to hang with her friends. Sometimes it seemed that they got to spend more time with her than I did.

The steering wheel was warm under my hands. I turned the car around and started heading home. I thought I'd catch up on some of the ironing or make a start on cleaning the bathroom but then I felt the shadows tugging at my arm. Not now! I'm on the road! I muttered a few choice swear words and quickly found somewhere to pull up before giving in to their direction. Where? Who? The shadows showed me. I wished they didn't have to. The woman was young, late twenties, and fighting for every breath she took. She was too weak to talk but her eyes said words enough. They pleaded with me to go away.

"I'm sorry," I told her. The woman's eyes said I didn't have to be sorry, that I didn't have to take her. She flinched as I gently took her hand and squeezed it. "I'm sorry," I repeated. Sometimes it was the only thing you could say. I reached out and closed her eyes but the accusation didn't go away, it burned through my hand as the smoke closed in and I said the words, delivering her to Hades. I closed my eyes. Sometimes that made it easier and when I opened them again, I was back in my car and there was a ringing in my ears. My phone.

"Sansom speaking."

"Thank God! Rob, how quickly can you get to the station?" It was my day off.

"I'll be there in five, what's the situation?"

"A fire on the high-street, it's spreading bad, we need to send another truck but Jay called in sick and-"

"Relax. I've got it." I hummed as I sped along the road. Saving people quite often made me feel better. Maybe today would be a good day for once.

Charlotte "Kitten"

A lit match reached from the confines of Charlotte's grip toward a scented candle on the counter top. It was beautiful. Red, orange, yellow. And warm, so so warm. Charlotte touched her index finger to the flame, pulling it away as it burned at the pad of her fingertip again.

"Meow," Charlotte whispered. She adjusted the headband in her loose hair with her free hand. It was a child's toy, the cat ear headband she wore, but she was ever so glad she had it with her.

The flame flickered, smiling at her. Laughing, Charlotte let the match fall onto the wooden countertop. It burnt an ashy black hole into the counter before dieing out.

She pulled the matchbox out of a drawer and lit another candle. She licked her lips as she studied the fire. She smiled widely, grinning a white, toothy grin and let the match fall.

She lit another, and another. Soon the entire counter was littered with flaming matches; the reds and oranges and yellows crawled over the wood and engulfed the counter in it's warm embrace.

In minutes the shop was ablaze with brilliant light.

"Charlotte!" Ezmerelda shouted from the back room. "Put out some of those candles, the smell of smoke is godawful from in there!"

Charlotte lit another match, this time tossing it onto a purple velvet curtain.

"What did I just tell you?" Ezmerelda asked, her irritated voice very close to the doorway leading from the back room. "Charlotte!" she shouted as she took in the flaming shop.

"The shop was cold," Charlotte whispered. Dark, black ice crept slowly from the front entrance of the shop. Her fire charged against it, but it wasn't strong enough. It needed help. "It needs me!" she shouted. "Everything will die if I don't save the shop from the ice!"

"There is no ice, Charlotte!" Ezmerelda shouted. She grabbed the phone and dialed something on it, Charlotte couldn't tell what. Memerizing the tones of each key on their old telephone was what she planned for the next week.

Charlotte turned to face the old bag of skin. "There is ice," she said, glaring at the woman. "It's there! And if you try to stop me from destroying it, I'll destroy you too!"

Five minutes later, the fire still burned behind Charlotte as it ate the shop. She stood over the now ash-covered woman who had taken her in, allowed her employment. "You shouldn't have tried to stop me," Charlotte whispered. "You knew the fire would protect me."

She reached down and grasped the woman's hand in her own, whispering a few words as her soul swirled away from her body.

*sorry it's a tad long, I got carried away *

I'm more than okay with it, Potter. I'm just sorry it took until a few moments ago for me to have read your post. I really need to check SB's for updates more often. Well, here you go!

Drake

As instantly as it was for me to fall asleep, I woke up the second when somebody knocked on my door. This was pretty bizarre, if nothing else, because I didn't really exhist, in the eyes of just about anybody. I murdered random people, brought them to their holy judgement, and came back home to sleep. Nobody knew I was alive, or that I exhisted. Even the neighbor's hadn't seen me, and I hadn't seen them.

I got up and grabbed my handsaw, covered still in wood pulp and a little dried blood, and opened the door fully. Before me was a man with slick black hair, wearing a clean suit. FBI, maybe? I had a way to find out.

"Who are you?", I asked.

"Damien"

"Well, Damien, I'm an antisocial serial killer, so I think you have the wrong house"

"No, Mr. Hartman, I don't", he said, as calmly as he could. He'd have a gun at me if he was FBI, and he knew (or at least told me that he knew) that I was a murderer. He was officially the strangest person I'd ever met. Granted, I'd only truly met about five or six, but they were still perfectly sane and understandable.

"Well, come on in, I guess", I told him, motioning him to come in with my saw hand. I didn't let go of the saw, in case I needed it. He didn't think twice on it after an instant glance to it at the door. I brought him into my wood chip covered woodshop of a living room, and pulled out a chair for each of us. While he took a seat, I grabbed two cans of Coke from the fridge. I gave one to him, and took a large gulp of mine quickly.

"May I ask what this is about?", I asked him.

**Er... His name is Damien, not Daniel.

Damien Locke

Damien smiled pleasantly at the man before him. He wiped off the lid of the Coke can carefully, opened it, an took a small sip.

"You are a hard man to find, Drake Hartman," said Damien slowly. "I've been searching for quite some time."

"What's your point?" asked Hartman bluntly. Damien smiled at him again. Hartman stared back at him. Damien sighed.

"Well, I'll just get straight to it, shall I?" he said calmly. "May I call you Drake? Good." Drake leaned forward, pushing the Coke can to the side of the table.

"I'm here to propose an alliance, Drake," said Damien seriously. "And offer that, I think, you will benefit from as well as I."

Damien waited for a reaction from Hartman. He seemed suspicious, but listening. Damien smiled. He liked caution in a business partner.

"My point is that you are like me, Drake."

"Like you?"

Damien leaned closer to Hartman. "A Child of Hades." Drake stiffened. Damien grinned. "Good. So am I. You obviously know the increasing... risk... associated with our place in life?"

Hartman nodded. Damien leaned back in his chair. "Before we go any further here - Let me tell you about a previous life of man. I was a conman. One of the best in the business, if I do say so myself. I know your type. What I'd like to propose is a business partnership. Should either of us be found out, we can fall on the other for support. Should either of us be captured, the other will make necessary arrangements to break him out. I think, as well, that we could assist each other with the daily business of death."

Damien saw that Hartman was listening. "What do you say?" Damien asked quietly, reaching to take another sip of Coke.

Drake

I was a lone wolf. A killer without a cause, somebody who had no need for anybody else. But unfortunately, Damien was right. The Children were dying, and although I know that I could hold my own, I couldn't be perfectly safe. And doing the sorts of things I did, carpentry and murder, it really was "Safety First" for me. I really had no excuse to say no.

"First of all, you don't know my type. I'm better than what you call my type", I explained, "But nonetheless, I'm in".

I put my hand forward for a handshake, and he shakes back. I take a gulp in the new deal, and I wrote down my phone number and handed it to him. He did the same.

"Just call me if you get taken", I said to him. "Anything else I should know?"

Saphire
I jumped off of the stool and grabbed my black sweater. There was no use waiting for customers that would never come. I grabbed my Ipod and slipped on my sweater buttoning it up as fast as I could. I grabbed Gone with the Wind and my keys. I walked out of the store and clicked off the lights on my way out. I locked the door and blew a kiss to the store my nightly tradition and there was no way I would break it now. I walked the few blocks that seperated me from the bookstore to my apartment building and into apartment 17. I locked the door behind me and immediatley plugged my Ipod into speakers turning to "Tourniquet" By Evanescence and turning it up as loud as I could. Most of the other tenants were college students out all night partying and not returning home until the ungodly hours of the morning dragging themselves into bed getting up only a few hours later. I sang quietly to the song fixing myself a very quick turkey sandwhich and grabbed a bottle of Mountain Dew. I walked into the living room and sat on the couch and crossed my legs in front of the TV and flipped to the news. There had been a fire earlier that day the cause had not been determined but it may have been the cause of all the candles in the shop. I flipped past it and onto Cartoon Network and smiled slightly this was one of my most childish hobbies though I would never have admitted it to anyone else.

Gwynn


“I probably do, somewhere,” she said with a dramatic glance behind her shoulder. “Do you have a minute?” The man nodded and shifted into a more comfortable position. Gwynn looked around the room. Shelves with assorted and probably illegal knick-knacks, but no books. A chair with a pile of toasters, but no books. A cardboard box with the word “books” written in capital letters and a bold marker, but still, no books. She grinned at her inward joke and skipped over to nearly rip the box open.

“Mostly first or second editions, if that’s okay.” Gwynn picked it up and started to lug the anvil over to the counter.




*I can’t believe my post is this short, but I didn’t quite know what to do with Nathaniel.*

I loved it Lauren and well, it's quite the perfect opening for me

Robert Sansom

Arriving at the station, I got changed at double speed and there were shared glances but no greetings between me and the team. Jack, a beefy looking man and a downright whiz at cards, took the wheel while Eddie filled us in.

"We'll have to use the East side hydrants, Smith and Jalson will be on the hose, the rest of you search and rescue." I nodded mutely. I'd long since gone deaf to the sound of sirens ringing in my ears but every now and then, I'd hear screaming. You never went deaf to the screams and sooner or later the two sounds got so mingled that you could hear both of them drowning out the world.

We arrived at the scene. The other engine were having trouble stopping the fire from spreading but once we got our hose up, we were well on the way to having it under control. "Started in the herbal shop," a man from the other team said quickly. "There might be people inside. An old lady and her assistant."

"Anyone gone in yet?" I asked quickly, already pulling my helmet on. The man shook his head.

"Naw, flames too fierce and that building's looking unstable." He said it sadly but in a matter of fact tone. I ignored him. What he didn't realise was that this was just my place. For a man who was immortal, throwing myself at high risk fires saved more than the people inside the buildings. Sooner or later there was always a fireman moved enough to try his luck. When they were screaming and crying out...

"Rob, Rob! God damn you Rob, I'll fire your arse!" That was Eddie and I already knew he never would.

The fire was hot and fierce sure enough and the smoke clogged even my lungs but I kept low and hurried through the shop. It was difficult to see but I could hear her. How in hell anyone had survived this long and was still conscious I didn't know. She was holding a dead woman. I gritted my teeth at that and picked her up quickly, wrapping my jacket around her to keep the heat away. She was young, stunning and not going to die on my watch.

"She shouldn't have been here, she wasn't supposed to be here." It was rare for fire victims to have enough breath to ramble and I didn't understand it but I tried to soothe her worries as I carried her out.

"You're going to be alright. I'm going to get you safe and then I'm going back in there for-" For the body.

"No, no. It's too late, I already took her. She's already gone." Poor girl.

*Is there any way for Children of Hades to recognise on another as being dead? Also, no one else has replied so you're my kid now, TW *


~Nathaniel~

Whilst the girl was delving into the storage cupboard, I glanced around the rest of the shop lazily. All the shelves were full to bursting with assorted... I searched for a polite way to put it, but there didn't really seem to be any appropriate word other than 'junk'. There was a crash from within the storeroom, and I raised an eyebrow.

"Are you alright?" I asked, standing up and peering into the room to check the girl was still alive.
"I'm fine!" came the muffled reply, followed by the sound of more rustling.

Sighing, I turned to look around again. Hmm. Some of the trinkets (there, that was a better word, wasn't it?) seemed old enough to be from my teenage years, some things looking familiar, even. I wandered over, peering at some of the things inquisitively. In fact, I was almost certain that that particular tobacco pipe had belonged to my father. I picked it up, examining it closely and running my fingers over the fox carving.

Well, it wouldn't exactly be a surprise if it was my pipe; Elizabeth had probably sold all of my possessions after I left, and now somehow my family heirloom had ended up in a pawn shop. Still, it might not be the same pipe. Just an uncanny resemblance, of course...

There was a dull thud behind me, and I turned to see the source. "Mostly first and second editions, if that's okay," she trilled as she dropped a rather large box labled 'BOOKS' onto the counter, trailing off slightly as she noticed what I was holding. "Umm, where did you get that?" she asked, a slight frown appearing on her face.

I pointed to the shelf in silence, and her frown deepened.

Charlotte "Kitten"

The fireman picked Charlotte up and carried her out of the still flaming building. It was so strange that anyone had braved the fire to come in. Humans were rarely that adventurous, even if their jobs called for it.

"Ezmerelda..." Charlotte whispered. She brushed her hair back from her face, trying to keep it away, but it kept falling back. Why had she been in the shop? Didn't she always leave early? What had she been doing in the back room so long after she should have left?

The fireman set Charlotte down on the pavement when they were far enough away from the shop. "Can you tell me your name?" he asked her as he looked into her eyes, as if he would be able to tell if she was alright just by looking.

"Charlotte McClain," she said.

"Do you know what today is?" the fireman asked.

Charlotte raised an eyebrow. Why on earth was he asking the date? Charlotte had been in a burning building, she hadn't been hit on the head. Regardless, she answered his question and the next few regarding similar matters.

"Will you be okay if I leave you here?" he asked. "I'm going to go look for others in the building."

"I'll be fine, but you won't find anyone else besides Ezmerelda. And she's already gone, I told you. No one else uses the building," Charlotte said. She searched for a ribbon or tie of some sort to keep her hair out of her face, she was getting bored with this fireman's pointless questions.

Yeek! The drama. I promise, I’ll make longer posts. My mind is just in a visual-artsy kind of this week instead of being creative in writing. And no, there isn't a way to spot Children right off the bat, no matter who you are.


Gwynn

Her eyes shifted frantically from his face to the pipe and back. One of the only things that had survived the flames. There was no way she was going to sell it to some stranger who looked like he had come from a costume party. “Don’t know how the heck it ended up there,” she said with her eyes narrowing down on the sleeping little fox the man so tenderly fingered. “It’s not for sale.” She held out her hand to take it. The man hesitated a only moment before handing it to her.

As Mr. Customer carefully fumbled through the box, Gwynn unlocked and reached into a cabinet of the counter, pulling out a fireproof black box. She took a quick look to make sure he wasn’t watching and pressed a handful of buttons to open the lock. I hate this box. Such a ‘blast to the past’. With one hand she grabbed a tissue and stuffed it in, and with the other she carefully laid the pipe beside the carousal music box and spoon, other items she had found in the rubble.

She put the box away and looked up. Mr. Customer was staring at her like she had grown a duck’s bill. “Take your time,” she said slowly. This dude was starting to act creepy. “The sign says nine to six, but I never really close up until I can beat rush hour.”

Out of the corner of her eye she saw a little shadow growing in the corner. Aw, come on! Not now!

Elizabeth (Liza) Hamilton

Hades promised to give me a life of power and immortality, and he kept that promise. Though he never mentioned everything painful I was about to endure. If he had, I am doubtful I would have chosen this life for myself. He didn't mention the sorrow you felt when you, one who was saved from an untimely death, is forced to take someone before their time. He didn't mention the pain of seeing the ones you loved age and die. He didn't mention the loneliness that would consume you, for what companionship can you have when you are immortal? Most of all, Hades did not mention the torture of memories. Remembering the memories from when you had a soul, the memories that forced you to make your deal with Him. The memories that will haunt your forever. Forever is a long time.

I could feel his hands on my arms, holding me down. The water was cold and full of seaweed, nothing like a bath. I was fighting, kicking and screaming. I needed air, the water was filling my lungs. Am I dying? Is this the end for me? I could feel myself slipping into the darkness. "Hello Elizabeth, I have a deal for you."

Robert Sansom

She didn't understand. Robert was almost relieved. It meant she wouldn't grieve too deeply, she'd be sad and then she'd move on with her life. That was good. Charlotte was young and she deserved to get over this tragedy. It wasn't bad that she'd forget. It was good. Robert would never forget.

"Then I'll bring Ezmerelda out," he said softly as some of his crew gathered around to check on the welfare of the girl.

"Don't you get it? She's gone, snuffed it, d-e-a-d dead." Robert was only vaguely surprised by her outburst. Everyone dealt with grief in different ways but sometimes people got angry. Sometimes they shouted and sounded calloused. He understood.

"Her family might want- might want the body," Robert explained. He wasn't sure if he was speaking to Charlotte anymore. He was half lost. He was remembering. Again. There hadn't been much of a body when they pulled her out but he was grateful that there was a body. He'd been able to bury her, in a grave he could visit from time to time, a place he could take his daughter and where they could almost... almost... well. There was an afterlife. He was living proof of that. She was up there, happy, maybe watching. That was why he had to do it.

"Rob if you don't stop-"

"Hold that thought, I have a burning building to run into." Robert flashed Eddie a grin as he started swearing again and made an attempt to grab Rob's arm. Robert was too fast and too determined. He was going to get that body.

Can someone helpe me bring Leah in?

*Why don't you come in the pawn shop with me (Nathaniel) and TexanWriter (Gwynn)? If you don't post by tomorrow I'll bring you in *