(Hello, and welcome to *coco and I's story. It's fantasy/thriller, I suppose, and sort of Young Adult. We take themes from the "Demon's Lexicon", most vampire books (minus the dreaded "Twilight"), and several lovely other novels. Basically, we put our own spin on things--and by "things" I mean werewolves, vampires, magic, demons/devil spawn, and monsters. Epic right? Anyway, comments would be appreciated [I think], and, yeah, I'm writing Caleb's POV and *coco is writing Lucan's. Enjoy.
P.S. It's rated 16+ for language and potential violence and, yes, that does make it ironic I'm writing it, too. But, hey, I was introduced to LOST and Stephen King's works at a young age...)
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PROLOGUE
CALEB
To say the least, I wasn’t the happiest person alive.
Sure, I cracked jokes with the rest of them and could figure out the games guys at bars watched pretty easily, but I knew I’d never have that perfect little life.
You know the life? The one with the white picket fence, golden retriever, two point five children, and a wife that cooked, cleaned, and cared for the kids because society frowned on them if they did anything else?
Well, to begin with, I never really wanted that life. (Okay, so when I was a kid I’d wanted that life so I could have the parent aspect of it, but don’t be so judgmental.) I also had a golden retriever, sort of. But I was pretty sure he was some mixed creature covered up with magic so he looked normal--I’d seen his eyes look like fire, anyway.
Oh, yeah, about that last thing. See, you know when your parents tell you there are no monsters under the bed, in your closet, etc.? Well, they’re lying to you. On top of that, you’re also probably not going to be famous either. You’re going to be average, like the rest of the world--you lucky buggers. Or unlucky, I guess. It depends on what you think lucky means.
I think I’ll align the word lucky with anathema--to the Greeks it meant gift of the gods and to the Hebrews it meant cursed. It’s all on how you look at it.
And, well, I don’t think I was that lucky, even if I’d never chose a normal life, not now. I mean, there’s freaking little magic buggers everywhere! I’d freak myself out wondering where they are all the time, because then I couldn’t see them.
Yeah, I can see magic. And I can see everything in between--the guardian angels everyone are always yapping about, demons, half-bred monsters, and everything else. It’s a problem of mine. I see right through the glamour holding their secret world together. I mean, otherwise you’d notice the half-wolf half-men stalking around, half stooped over (they look like hobos to you), the giant things I have yet to explain, the spiders, the pixies, etc.
And, yes, as you can imagine, my childhood was very disturbed (but we’ll get to that later). Basically, my parents died, my brother, Lucan, was sent to a foster home and I was probably almost sent to a mental hospital. Of course, I wasn’t and that’s probably an overstatement, but you should have seen the looks on my foster parents’ faces when I asked them why a funny lion with bat wings was lounging in the backyard’s hammock. And none of the kids had ever liked me much either. They were a nasty bunch of buggers, those kids.
Oh, and yeah, the thing (the wannabe Chimera) sort of killed someone in front of me, a few days later. It’s hard not to wake up screaming because you have night terrors about seeing someone eaten (swallowed whole, luckily--bloke didn’t feel a thing) and for no one to even notice.
That was probably the worst part, though, the fact no one noticed.
Now, well, a lot has changed.
You want to know more? Well, okay then, whoever you are...
Oh, right, and just let me mention the worst part--you know all that flack about werewolves and vampires? Yeah, they exist, too--sons and daughters of Lilith, maybe. They’re the worst of them all, most deadly. And they’re the most human, which makes it worse.
I’d say keep an eye out, but you can’t; since you can’t see them in the first place. I guess you’re not a partial monster then, like me, huh?
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CHAPTER ONE
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