Young Writers Society

Hey there. This is my first fanfiction for a book series called 'The Underland Chronicles'. They're not very well known, but I love them. This is the first chapter of a forty-chapter fanfic I've been working on for awhile. It's posted on FFN, but I always appreciate more input on my writing.

Some info about the story:

In the books a boy named Gregor who lives in NYC falls down his laundry gate into a subterranean world called the Underland. There are giant rats, bats, bugs that all talk, as well as people with silvery hair and purple eyes. Over the course of five books there are five different prophecies, where he is known as the 'warrior', and ends up getting caught up in plots to keep the Underland from breaking out into war. In the fifth book he fights against the Bane, a giant white rat that declared war against the humans. He falls in love with Luxa, the Underland queen, but is forced to leave her forever after the war, when he goes back up to NYC. Oh, and his bat friend, Ares, dies. My own story, Gregor and the Prophecy of Flight, takes place three months after this. I hope that's enough to make it understandable.

My own OC, Ari, is not a canon character. I know she seems very Mary-Sueish at the beginning, but please don't judge - she gets better as the story moves along.

Plot Summary:

[spoiler]

It's been three months since Gregor left the Underland for good when strange things begin to happen again. Word of a new subway that's planning to dig through 'a series of newly-discovered underground caves' start circulating, made more complicated by a strange girl who keeps popping up. Forced to venture back down to the Underland, Gregor discovers that a final prophecy, The Prophecy of Flight, has been discovered, and that both he and another Overlander play a key part in it. Will they be able to save the Underland, or will it cave in from the construction before they can do anything?


Chapter One - Chance


Gregor pressed his forehead against his desk, trying to listen to his science teacher. She was droning on about the difference between endothermic and exothermic, defining the difference between warm blooded animals and cold blooded animals. It seemed pretty easy for an eighth grade science class, but then again, Gregor had gotten a lot of impromptu lessons from his dad over the years, who was a certified AP Biology teacher. Or was, if you wanted to be precise.

"Warm-blooded animals are confined to mammals and birds," Mrs. Connors went on, her salt-and-pepper hair glinting dully in the florescent lights. "This has several good qualities: warm blooded creatures can regulate their own body heat and stay active even at night. But this means that they must eat much more than cold blooded animals in order to keep their metabolism up..."

This, or course, reminded him of what had happened with the plague. And thinking about the plague, of course, made him think of Luxa, which just forced the hole in his chest to ache more.

It was funny, how he was maimed on his chest, both physically and mentally. The scars from the Bane's claws had barely begun to heal, but that wasn't what he was worried about. Scars weren't really a big deal compared to everything else that had happened.

It was the gaping wound in his heart that gave him agony.

School wasn’t due to end for another half an hour. Without meaning to, Gregor began to doze, but stopped himself out of fear. The nightmares of him falling that had started months ago still followed him wherever he went. Mrs. Cormaci had told him that they would slowly ebb away, but they hadn’t. Over the last few weeks, the dreams had only gotten stronger, both in intensity and length. At first, he had only had the falling nightmares, but lately, they had changed.

For the worse.

As soon as Gregor and his family had come back to New York City, his mother had put him back to school. It was hard, adjusting to being back in the Overland, and he still wasn’t completely used to it. His parents were saving up to move to Virginia, but in the meantime, his mother watched him all the time.

“Gregor? Are you okay?” Angelina, trying to make it look as if she were still paying attention to class, gently prodded his back with a pencil. She glanced at him from her adjacent seat, whispering. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

She and Larry had both been watchful of him ever since his return. They were smart, and they knew something was up. Gregor wished he could tell them. Unfortunately, his instinct to keep the Underland safe ruled over his need to get the secret out.

“I’m fine,” he replied cautiously. “Just...tired.” It was partly the truth, with the innate fear of sleeping that continued to plague his nights. Gregor marveled at how he had changed over the last year. Before he fell, he was just a kid, a kid who liked running and T.V. and playing the saxophone. Somehow, the kid feeling had evaded him now. He had killed so many. A kid was the last thing he felt like.

Angelina was silent, angry in the fact that he was lying to them. Gregor wished he could tell his friends, but it just wouldn’t work. After what seemed like an eternity, the end of school bell rang, signaling for everyone to rush out as quickly as they physically could. Pulling himself out of the seat, Gregor walked slowly into the hallway. A display on nocturnal mammals was on the wall. He stared up at it, gazing forlornly at all the fluttering bats. Why did everything remind him of the one place he was attempting to forget?

“Oh, I forgot to tell you,” Angeline said, running up to him and waking him out of his stupor. “I’m having some friends over at my house today. Want to come?”

One part of him really didn’t want to, but, on the other hand, his mom had told him he needed to get out more, be more social.

“Yeah, just let me talk to my mom,” he replied. “I’ll meet you outside the school.”

Gregor started walking towards the office, so he could call his mother. Unfortunately, his cell phone had been lost in the Underland, and now he was forced to use the school phones. His father had offered to get him another, but Gregor knew they couldn't afford something like that.

So he used the school phones.

Lost in thought, which wasn't unusual for him these days, Gregor slowly walked down the hallway, trying to conceal the stiffness in his muscles. He was almost there when someone crashed head-on into him, causing Gregor to reel back as he regained his balance.

Instinctively, without even thinking, Gregor slid into rager mode. His eyesight sharpened, pinpointing the easiest places to attack, the belly, the face, the groin. Since he had no sword - they were a little harder to get up here - his fists went up, ready to attack.

“Get off me!” a feminine voice cut through the rager mode. Realizing that there was no threat, he did his best to get it under control. It was hard, since he hadn't been able to practice, not under the watchful eyes of his parents.

“What's your problem?” the voice came from a girl. He shook his head, trying to clear it.

“Excuse me?” he asked, still trying to calm down. The rager sense was still hard for him to control, with almost three months of no practice. "Uh, sorry."

Stupid! You have to be more careful, idiot. Gregor internally chastised himself as he concentrated on breathing deeply.

“Whatever,” the girl said shortly, giving herself a shake as she started to walk away. Still slightly dazed over his rager senses, Gregor stared at her as she moved down the hallway.

“Wait,” Gregor said suddenly, his mind clearing. “Are you sure you’re alright?” His eyesight was still uncannily sharp; an aftereffect of the rager sensation, and the girl looked hurt. She didn’t answer; perhaps she had not heard him?

“Your back,” Gregor ran up to smaller girl, gently grabbing her left shoulder. As quickly as Gregor had morphed into a seasoned warrior, the girl reacted, whipping her body around and hissing at him, her lips pulled back in a terrible grimace.

“Keep your hands off me!” she growled, glaring at him as though he was the physical personification of the devil. “I swear, if you touch me again, I will kill you.”

Okay, well, she had some problems with personal space.

“Jeez, sorry,” Gregor said in a defensive tone, looking down at her. “I’ll be more careful next time.”

“There’s not going to be a next time,” the girl muttered, grabbing her backpack and once again rolling it down the hallway, her sneakers echoing off the linoleum floor softly.

She has problems, Gregor thought, still stung by the girl’s reaction to his trying to help. Looking at people like that made him wonder if he was really that weird himself. Almost immediately he felt ashamed; she probably had a good reason for acting like that. Most people did. That was the sad part. You’d get angry at someone because of the way they acted, and then find out the horrible truth of why.

Thoughts such as these continued to run around his head as Gregor continued his journey to the school’s office, trying to pick up pace. Besides him, the corridors were empty; no one stayed after school much unless if they had to.

“May I use the phone?” Gregor asked the secretary, who just waved at him and continued to type on her laptop, perfectly manicured nails clicking like a poodle's claws.

“I’ll take that as a 'yes',” Gregor muttered, picking up the phone and punching in his mother’s cell phone number. His fingers were shaking.

"Hello?" His mother's voice broke him out of his scattered thoughts.

"Hey, Mom, it's Gregor."

"Oh, hey there baby! How was your day?" He winced at this term of endearment. It was embarrassing, even over the phone.

"Um, yeah, it was fine, but I forgot to tell you - Angelina wants me to come over with some other kids today. Is that okay?" He got it out as quickly as he could.

His mother hesitated, and Gregor remembered. He was supposed to watch Boots and Lizzie today. There was no way they could afford a baby-sitter, and even with his dad on the road to recovery, Grace Andrews still hated leaving her daughters at home without someone who could afford to watch them all the time.

"Oh, sorry," he started quickly. "I forgot. I'll be home in a-"

"No, no, it's perfectly fine,” his mother cut in. "I'll ask Mrs. Cormaci if she can watch them,” she paused, hesitated for a moment. “Just be at home by six.”

“Sure, Mom,” Gregor agreed.

“And stay away from Central Park!” Grace said in a forceful afterthought. This had become a daily ritual for her.

Gregor sighed. "Don’t worry, alright? I'll call you at Angelina's."

"I love you, Gregor."

"Me too, bye, Mom."

"Bye!"

Gregor hung up, still feeling guilty about forgetting. But still, even though he was almost thirteen, he was considered a kid. His mom was probably ecstatic that he was on his way to not being so antisocial. That was good, he guessed. Maybe the school counselor would stop stalking him.

Gregor walked out and started jogging to the school entrance, wincing at the sharp ache in his chest cavity. The Underland doctors had told him to keep exercising, and that it would loosen up his muscles, but at times like this, he really had a hard time believing them.

Angelina was waiting on the sidewalk, along with a few other people, including Larry.

“Hey man, what’s up?” the aforementioned friend asked, clapping him on the back. His white-blond hair shone even in the cloudy winter weather.

“Nothing much,” Gregor tried to make it seem like he was happy, attempting to match the light tone of his friends. He turned to Angelina. “Sorry I was late,” he thought inevitably of the scary-faced girl, “but we can go now.”

“Great!” Angelina said brightly, swishing her dark hair as she got the assorted preteens’ attention. “On to my house, everyone!”

“We’re walking?” one slightly whiny voice asked, and Gregor felt a strange sense of déjà vu.

“It’s not that far, you guys,” Angelina answered with exasperation. “Come on!”

Gregor tried – honestly, tried – to have a good time at Angie’s house. Her mother had baked some cookies, which were eagerly snatched up by the eighth graders as they gathered in the living room, talking and gossiping and daring others to talk to their crushes. Gregor mostly stayed on the sidelines, watching the interactions of his peers with a detached sort of interest. It was sort of like watching animals communicate with each other on Animal Planet. For a few minutes he amused himself, pretending to be a television narrator informing watchers on the eating habits of zebras or elephants or whatever animals they filmed these days.

After what seemed like an eternity, the get-together started breaking up. A few left for home; the television set was turned on for the enjoyment of those who remained.

“Lucky,” Larry muttered as he switched from channel to channel - how he had gained control of the remote, Gregor didn’t know. “I wish I had Tivo.”

“Change the channel,” Angelina ordered, twirling a lock of hair and munching on the last cookie. “The news is so boring."

“City council officials have hired this company to start construction on New York’s new subway line. We’re going to Eileen Summers here, who’s interviewing Robert Campbell, one of the construction overseers. You’re on, Eileen.”

“Roger that,” Larry agreed, switching to Nickelodeon. A general murmur of contentment rose up when it was found that Drake and Josh was on.

Meanwhile, Gregor was still feeling bored. For some reason, fighting in wars made Drake and Josh seem somewhat immature. His mind began to drift for what seemed the millionth time that day. Sounds began to run together; weeks of insomnia had not been gentle to him. Gregor’s eyes began to close…

“In an attempt to lessen the threat of cave ins, Mayor Hughes has given consent for NGP to start their new project on the subways of Manhattan…”

“Huh?” Startled by the abrupt change of volume, Gregor started from his dozing state. He hadn’t even realized his eyes had closed.

“Did you fall asleep?” Angelina looked at him worriedly, scrutinizing his face. “Are you sure you’re alright, Gregor?”

“Yeah,” he replied, trying to seem casual. “Falling asleep doesn’t mean I’m messed up, Ang,” He attempted to grin; the muscles in his face were stiff from three months without use.

“You sure?” Larry asked warily. Gregor rolled his eyes in return.

“It’s called ‘school’,” Gregor shrugged as he reminded his friends, his ignorant friends. “It hasn’t been super easy getting up to par after the flu, you know.”

“Oh, yeah,” Angelina seemed relieved that he had a valid excuse for what could only be described as ‘angst’. “You’re better now, though, right?”

“Yep,” Gregor said as he stiffly got up from the beanbag where he had been dozing. Looking at a clock, he realized it was almost six; his mom would get all freaked out if he didn’t return right at the dot. The one time he was late resulted in some screaming, and more than a few tears. “Guys, I gotta get home. You know my mom.”

His friends nodded sagely. They had witnessed Mrs. Andrew’s paranoia and had learned to accept it without question, knowing it was better to simply pretend to know nothing.

“See you tomorrow,” Angelina said brightly.

“See ya’,” Gregor said as he pulled on his coat and stepped into the kitchen to alert Mrs. Woods he was leaving. “Have fun.”

If only he could be so optimistic.

--

Slinging his bag over his shoulder, Gregor opened the glass doors that led through his apartment building, and approached the elevator. As he neared it, he saw no familiar light coming from the buttons. Gregor pressed one, but to no avail. Great. Now he’d have to walk up the stairs.

His apartment was only six floors up, but with a heavy bag, it was going to be a long trip. But even so, he was still pretty fit from all the treks in the Underland. He sighed, and started the climb upwards.

Halfway through, as he stopped to readjust his bag, a dark silhouette caught his eye. He turned and gazed out the window, and saw the silhouette again. It looked to be a bird, but a rather large one at that. Whatever. It was probably just a pigeon or something.

The door opened before he could even get out his keys.

“Gregor!” Boots squealed in obvious delight, holding her hands for him to pick her up. Behind her, like a frail sort of shadow, stood Lizzie.

“Mom, Gregor’s home!” Lizzie yelled. It was sort of amusing that, even when she was yelling, Lizzie’s voice was always soft.

“Hey, you guys,” Gregor said, feeling somewhat happier. “How was your day?”

“I color! I color beeeg bats!” Boots giggled as he tickled her bare feet.

“You gonna show me?” Gregor asked with some forced enthusiasm, glancing at Lizzie. He was quite sure the tight expression on her face was perfectly mirrored in his. None of them has forgotten, but Boots was the only one who blatantly talked about…it…on a regular basis. Gregor couldn’t be angry at her, she was only a baby, really. How should she know what they were all feeling.

“Ye-es! I show you!” the little girl wriggled out of his grip, and he sat her down and entered the apartment. It was sadly bare, with only a few lopsided photographs framing the cracked plaster wall.

“Hey there,” his mother walked into the sparsely decorated living room and hugged him. “How was your day, dear? Did you have fun at Angelina’s?”

“Yeah,” Gregor said. “It was cool. We watched TV and gorged ourselves on junk food and stuff. You know.”

“That’s great,” Grace said with relief, a smile breaking on her face. “It’s so good to see you out and about again, doing things with your friends.”

“Yeah,” Gregor said vaguely. “I’m going to get started on my homework, okay?”

“Dinner in about half an hour – Mrs. Cormaci’s bringing something over,” his mom informed him. Gregor’s stomach muscles, nervous at the idea of having no food, released. They’d be alright for tonight. Even so, it was good he ate a lot at Angie’s.

Gregor trod up the hallway to his room, which was not much more than a broom closet. It was nice, though. Small, but it was his. He had decorated the walls with pictures of bats he had cut out of magazines he’d found. There was this one species, the Silver-haired Bat, that looked a little like Ares.

How much bigger could the hole in his heart get?

--

The next day, Gregor went through the motions again, just like before. Was his whole life going to be like this? The bell rang, and the flurry of kids exited the science class. He had PE next, which was always difficult. His wounds still hurt, and he couldn’t change in front of the other guys. They had 

started teasing him about that, but it was better than having them stare at his scars. Questions would have been asked, ones that he wouldn’t be able to answer.

Finally, it was lunch. Gregor went into the lunch line with a feeling of dejection. Monday always meant some sort of mystery meat. Most of the kids avoided it, but he ate it out of hunger. It sucked, but there wasn’t much he could do, and he wasn’t going to sniff at a free lunch.

Grabbing a tray, he started trekking across the kid-filled cafeteria, keeping an eye out for Larry and Angelina at their usual table, one near the wall at the far end. Good thing he was so tall for his age.

“Watch out!”

Gregor stopped suddenly, thrown out of his thoughts as he realized he was about to crash into someone again. Stepping back, he grabbed the wall to keep from falling on anyone.

Before Gregor even realized what was happening, a pale face appeared in front of his own. Black eyes, lackluster and flat, met his own brown ones.

“Why won’t you stay out of my way?”

It was impossible. Fate must be paying special attention to him today to make sure he had the worst luck possible.

“You’re the one who keeps getting in my way,” Gregor spat back instinctively. “So don’t get angry about something that’s not my fault.”

The girl glared at him, her dark eyes burning holes into his face. She looked like she was about to say something when the expression on her face shifted, became more wild. It happened in the blink of an eye, but Gregor caught it. Her gaze shifted to his hand; a look of hunger came upon her face.

A moment after, he felt the familiar warm sensation on his left hand. A trickle of blood caught his eye; he must have scratched himself on the wall.

“Crap,” Gregor muttered, forgetting about the girl as he grabbed a napkin from a pile and put it on his hand. It was a small cut, barely more than a scratch, but the sight of blood brought back unpleasant memories.

“Are you still going to attack me?” Gregor asked sarcastically, wishing that he could just blend into the crowd for once. Why did this stuff always happen to him?

He looked up, expecting a stinging retort or another glare. But there was nothing.

The girl had disappeared.

o.O.o.o.O.o

Ari hated school.

To be honest, hate wasn’t strong enough. She abhorred it. It was the bane of her existence. She really, really hated school.

It was annoying enough that she had to pretend to have a back problem; having to deal with annoying kids didn’t add to the experience.

Why can’t I just be homeschooled again?

The question, one she had asked both herself and her parents dozens of times, echoed around in her head. Their answer was always the same: she needed to become more socialized, learn what it was like to be a teenager.

Well, being a teenager sucked. Big time. She much preferred the security of her home; it was so much easier to concentrate on actually learning. At the public school, all she could think of was the excruciating pain in her back.

Ari opened the door with her keys into a well furnished apartment. Her parents weren’t home, and it would stay that way for another month. They were vets, and had gone to California to study a new way of using anesthesia. For once her difference actually worked for her; her parents knew how much planes freaked her out. And supposedly she was too dangerous for a nanny of any sort.

So she was alone. She liked to think of it as a consolation prize for being forced to go to public school for the first time in her life.

She left her rolling backpack in the hall, and went into her room to change. Ari stripped down, until all she was wearing was her harness. Unlike most people, she couldn’t wear a bra, so the harness was that too. Ari undid it; the pain grew much less as she relaxed her shoulders. That was better.

No, not better. It would have been better if she was actually useful. Her stupid…deformities were nothing but a hindrance. Once or twice she had thought about cutting them off, but decided against it. Ari wasn’t really into excruciating pain, which sort of sucked since she had to bear it every day.

Oh, well.

o.O.o.o.O.o

Gregor looked out of the window in his bedroom. The lights of Manhattan shone brightly, letting him know he wasn’t alone.

Time passed as he gazed out over the city below him. A flash of light and the path lights in Central Park were on, illuminating the shadowy trees six stories below him. His mother had tried desperately to find another apartment, a safer one, but there had been no luck. He knew how much she hated living here now, so close to…that place. Not thinking the names made it easier to bear, somehow.

Another flash of light, smaller this time, caught Gregor’s eye. Looking down, he could make out the shape of three people, one of them holding a flashlight. That was odd.

Months of gazing out over the park let Gregor memorize the schedule there. He knew when the guards came, what paths they took, and other details. He always felt sort of like a secret agent up here, watching life go on below.

But tonight, something wasn’t right. He knew that Central Park closed at ten o’clock to the public, and it was almost eleven. So what were those people doing there? Looking closer, Gregor could make out that they weren’t wearing guard uniforms.

Normally, Gregor wouldn’t have cared if some punk teenagers had sneaked into the park. The guards always caught them before anything happened.

But as Gregor watched, he saw no guards near the strangers. They were alone, and heading to a place that was all-too-familiar to Gregor and his family. They were approaching the stone, the locked gate to the…place that Gregor had come up from three months ago.

Even still, Gregor didn’t feel any apprehension until he saw one of the guys pull out a crowbar and start prying the stone open.

o.O.o.o.O.o

In the middle of attempting to do her math homework, which seemed like a futile effort in itself, Ari felt the familiar pang of hunger. For once, she embraced the chance to get away from geometry and got up to go to the kitchen. Grabbing a plate from the fridge, she set it in the microwave to heat up. Looking at the food, she remembered what happened earlier, and felt a flush of shame.

It’s not your fault he cut himself on the stupid freaking wall, she thought defensively.

Just like it’s not your fault that you wanted to jump him and rip out his jugular? Another part of her taunted.

Crack. The glass Ari had pulled out of the cupboard flew against the wall in a fruitless effort to get rid of the bloodthirsty instincts that surrounded her.

She jumped as the microwave made a little noise, letting her know the food was heated up. Feeling a renewed sense of hunger, Ari pulled out the bloody meat and began to tear at it.

o.O.o.o.O.o

Options ran through Gregor’s mind like lighting, urging him to pick a choice. Tell his parents. Do nothing. Sneak out.

And do what? Take them out single-handedly? He asked himself sarcastically. Looking up, Gregor saw one of the pictures he had posted up above his bed. The bat looked uncannily like Ares.

Ares.

His bond had died for him, sacrificing his time so that Gregor could have more. And now Gregor didn’t even have the guts to stop some kids who were unwittingly about to destroy an entire world.

Gazing up at the picture one last time, Gregor heaved a sigh and grabbed his jacket.

o.O.o.o.O.o

Feeling a deep sense of satisfaction, albeit a twinge of shame, Ari wiped her face and licked her teeth, careful not to prick her tongue on her ridged teeth. Now would be a good time. She felt energized, ready to do something. Anything.

She checked the clock. It was nearing eleven. Seemed like a good time. Hurriedly, she put on a sweatshirt and tensed her shoulders, then ran up to the roof. It was no small coincidence that her parents had bought the penthouse for all of them to live in. They had expressly forbidden this, not wanting her to be exposed accidentally. But Ari couldn’t help it, couldn’t help trying. She was powerless.

The night was cloudy, the half-moon shining bleakly through the thick combination of rainclouds and smog. That was good for her.

With one smooth movement, she ripped off the jacket and released her shoulder muscles, letting them spread out. Taking deep, rapid breaths, she began to pump them up and down, faster and faster. 

Speed and power were the keys; she had realized that long ago. Running and jumping sometimes helped. This was a huge risk to her; most of the apartments in New York City had playgrounds on the top, which meant she wouldn't be able to do anything during the day without someone noticing a freaky girl with wings and calling the police. Her non-flight workouts had been restricted to short periods of time during night, and even then she was at risk. New York never slept, which meant Ari was constantly on the lookout, keeping tabs on her surroundings with eyes equipped for darkness.

“Come on!” Ari urged herself. “Work! Please, just work once!”

Fly! Fly! Become one with the air, the sky! Airborne!

For once, both parts of her persona were united, both wanting desperately the same thing.

Several minutes passed as she continued to work her wings, attempting to unlock the secrets that kept her from becoming airborne.

It’s no use, she sadly thought after another futile effort, you’re doomed to be on the ground forever.

o.O.o.o.O.o

It was pure luck that his family went to bed early. His father, still so emaciated, even after months, tired easily. Everyone did. Everyone besides him.

Quickly, he grabbed his coat and his pair of keys off the hook, wincing as the floor creaked under him. He paused, listening for any sign that his mother or sisters had awoken, had heard him.

Nothing. With a sigh of relief, he was out the door and down the stairs, on his way to sneak out to Central Park.

o.O.o.o.O.o

With an utter sense of hopelessness, Ari picked up her jacket, ready to head back down to her apartment. She always felt like a worthless creature after trying to fly. She wasn’t good for anything besides tearing at raw meat. And yet, after years of failure, she kept coming back, drawn by the ancient instincts that were a part of her. The ones that were sometimes…too powerful.

I’d be a good butcher, then, Ari thought sarcastically as she walked to where the stairs were. The night was lovely, the constellations circling above glowed and sparkled. Too engulfed in her own self-pity, Ari didn’t even notice.

A gust of wind swept through, not strong enough for her to lose her balance, but strong enough for the jacket to fly out of her grip and sail out and down to Central Park.

o.O.o.o.O.o

Thankfully, Central Park was one of the few places in Manhattan that was completely open to the public. There were guards, of course, that did their best to keep the homeless people off the benches, but getting into the park would be the easiest feat of the night.

On a hunch, he started walking down the sidewalk adjacent to the park, keeping a careful eye on the gates. The half moon cast an eerie light on the path, and Gregor felt thankful that he no longer needed light to see. For a moment he closed his eyes and focused, concentrating on the sounds of his breathing and the echo of his footsteps. In his mind’s eye, the world came to him, spun in gossamer threads of quicksilver. He clicked once; it shimmered.

Careful not to spark any attention – the streets of New York were never deserted – Gregor entered the park, trying to look as casual as someone could be, walking alone at at night in a nearly deserted park. Quickly he found the path that led to the stone, trying to keep his footsteps soft and silent.

.O.o.o.O.o

“Crap!” Ari’s curse was carried away by the wind as she watched her jacket start falling towards the ground, its downy interior carried by the strong draft of wind. “My coat!”

She really needed that coat; it was the only one long enough to cover her wings without hurting them. Feeling thoroughly pissed off, she leaned over the edge, hoping uselessly that she could catch it somehow.

Another buffet of wind came at her from behind, stronger than before. Immersed in trying to get her coat, Ari lost her balance as her tightly furled wings were caught by the wind and instinctively spread out. Before she could grab on, she had toppled over the edge, and started to fall.

“Aaah!” Ari couldn’t help but scream as she began to free fall, the hard concrete ground rushing towards her. She was going to die, end up as a splat on the sidewalk.

Fly, fly! Spread your wings and glide!

Seemingly of their own accord, Ari’s wings snapped out, the rushing wind spreading them out to their full extent. Magically, she was no longer falling – she was flying.

No, not flying, exactly. She was gliding, her wings catching the air and letting her fall slowly down. Futilely, she tried pumping her wings up and down, hoping to get life, but stopped when she almost lost her balance. She was still high in the air; with her sharp eyesight she saw that no one had spotted her yet. The air, cool and crisp with the anticipation of another snowing, whipped around her face; it was a wonderful feeling.

What are you going to do? You have to land! Part of her screamed, breaking the glorious feeling of being airborne. Partially out of instinct, partially out of common sense, she angled her wings and made sure she was heading into Central Park.

o.O.o.o.O.o

The three punk teenagers weren’t there when Gregor arrived. They must have disappeared, afraid a guard would catch them. The Underland – for the moment – was secure.

The stone, however, had not been so lucky. Though the three teens had left, they had left their mark – colorful graffiti was scrawled over the face of the rock, their multicolored curse words proclaiming to the world. Apparently upon finding how hard it was to open it, they decided to destroy the thing as a consolation prize.

With a trembling hand, Gregor touched the rock, cold as ice, feeling anger rise up in him. Those – those cretins had no idea what they were writing on, did they? No, it was only he, Gregor, who knew about the secret world under his feet, about the wars and battles and blood and death that went on every day miles under New York City. Salty tears, hot against his wind-whipped skin, trickled out of his eyes as he stood there, and remembered.

A crash to the right broke his memories, shattering them like ice. Immediately, he felt the rager sensation bubble up, eager to fight whatever adversary had found him: park ranger, teenagers, or whoever else who was stupid enough to try and fight him. Touching the stone one, last time, he ran towards the sound, ready to fight. The sound of crashing foliage continued up ahead, leading him easily to the source of the sound.

“Ow!” The exclamation startled him, coming from a large tangle of branches and bushed off the side of the cemented path. Immediately he stepped back, ready to deal with whatever had been hiding in there. So intent was he on watching his adversary, Gregor didn’t notice the branch conspicuously sticking up from the ground. With a muffled ‘oomph!’ he fell backwards onto his butt.

“Who’s-“ The person hidden within the bushes stopped himself abruptly, and Gregor could see his tiny silhouette hunker down even further into the ground, quivering.

“What are you doing here?” Gregor asked through clenched teeth, wishing he had a flashlight. Echolocation wasn’t enough, not with all the bushes in the way.

“Just-just go away!” The person’s voice was a grating hiss, high pitched as though he was about to shriek.

“I’m not the one who was writing graffiti all over the place!”

“I didn’t do that!” The voice was pleading, terrified. And young. “I need to get home!”

Gregor, stopped, confused at the fearfulness of whoever was hiding from him. With a grunt, he picked himself up and began to approach the bushes.

“Look, I’m not going to hurt you or anything,” Gregor said. Obviously this person was lost or something. “I was just looking for some people who were trashing something. I can help you.”

“Go away! Just leave me alone!”

Or perhaps the person was crazy. Gregor was beginning to wonder. Was it a homeless person? Some kid who got lost, somehow, and had evaded the security guards?

“Where do you live? Do you need to call someone?” His voice echoed through the frost-covered trees.

The brush moved slightly, and he stepped back defensively. In an effort to see who he was dealing with, Gregor clicked his tongue, listening for what the returning echoes told him. The brush rustled again, and his eyes widened with surprise.

Hidden within the foliage was a young girl.




I'm sorry about the length, but it was needed in order to set up the story properly. I'd love some reviews on this, por favor. Thanks so much if you actually read all that.

-Ari