The waves crash onto the summer beach and spread out across the wet sand. Foam and bits of rocks and broken shells are left behind as the wave retreats back to the sea. Then again, it crashes. And then retreats. Back and forth. A repetitive movement. Yet somewhat soothing to look at.Reaching up and adjusting my sunglasses, I look over at Bennet who's sitting in a reclining beach like the one I sit in. The hot summer day is just at its peak. Hot and humid. It brings out the sweat in your body, and the umbrella that is giving us shade gives little coolness to ward off the sweltering air.And I'm sweating a bit, the amount that is just like when you take out a cool water bottle from the fridge. The second you take it out. Just enough droplets that if you touch it you get a hint of water. It sticks a bit to my shirt uncomfortably.But Bennet besides me is like an ice cube in a stove. Laying back with his arms behind his head, his body sweats profusely, even in the weak shade. He wears
There's a wide room with a matching window that has the scene of the ocean beyond a small meadow and a small group of trees to the right. There are two chairs and one round high coffee table between. Two people sit, one you know, one you don't. At least not from this story. "So," says Cayce, "I'll introduce myself first. But since this is the end of my book then you probably know about me enough. Cayce Vance, eighteen. Married around now, ready for some action, and half-demon and half-angel hybrid." Cayce raises his wings to prove his last statement, and they move around. Because he's wearing a shirt with holes in the back they're visible to the audience. "So, now you introduce yourself," says Cayce to the other person. "Reza Kelson," replies the other person, Reza, "read my book." "Now, this is supposed to be the part where you promote your book so that everyone will read it," says Cayce, "I mean, this bonus chapter is supposed to be the promotion for An Eye for a Bullet.
The ocean's awfully grey. I didn't remember it being this dismal when I visited here when I was a kid. Maybe time changed my perspective of looking at things. Or it may be that I'm not as innocent and carefree as I used to be.Curled up in the back seat of the Black Ben Dad prepared for me to be driven into his home town, I looked out across the grey ocean, and an equally grey sky, looking for a horizon that was hidden in the fog. The sea looks very similar to the color of dirty mop water, the type you find in the janitor's closet after he's done his dirty and distasteful work. Needless to say, it's dismal.Don't get me wrong, I love all types of weather, but when you have to sit in the back of a car for four hours to go to your new home, and you aren't addicted to your phone, you automatically look out the window. And if all you see is a world of grey, it's only a matter of time until you become brain dead.Your mind first tries to play these frivolous games, like find a shape in the
We head upstairs after we have some time of talking and joking. We were supposed to take about four hours to get to Handerville, but because of bathroom breaks and traffic, it took about five and a half. No problem there really. We grabbed some dinner during our breaks, so all that was left to do when we got here was relax, shower, and sleep. We part ways on the second floor. The house has three floors and a roof, but most of the bedrooms are on the second floor. Not mine though. Mine is on the third floor. I don't mind. If I remember correctly, my room looks out on the ocean. The house is built on a tiny peninsula of land, and the nearest house is about a mile away, great for privacy. And the land is our own. So it works out great. Especially when you're like us. Different. And hated. Can't forget that. Different and hated.Also party animals. We might be like the Addams family actually. Everyone's got it in for us because we're so chic and subtly antagonizing that makes us
I park my car in front of the school building. Turns out the car Dad got for me was a big white brick, not that I'm complaining. I heard they're very safe to drive in. Pulling my keys out of the ignition, I grab my backpack from the passenger seat. In the rear mirror, I check that I look presentable. I'm wearing some dark blue jeans and a button-up shirt. I look like the typical nerd, minus the glasses. One of the pros of the supernatural, you have great eyesight.Stepping out of the car, I make sure to lock it. I see that around the parking lot, there are other kids, but none of them have noticed me. Yet. Walking toward the entrance, I realize I should have brought something to wear over my shirt. Handerville is pretty far north, and even though it's just barely September, it's chilly. Oh well, guess I better bring one tomorrow. Or die cold. either works. Walking into the school, I see they're handing out schedules. I step in line to receive mine. Shortly it's my turn."What's
Stepping out of the car, I realize it was a good thing I brought a jacket with me. I guess years of living in this town have given me an instinct of when it is necessary to start bundling up. Not that it's unbearably cold. Just a light breeze. It must be my lucky day.My name is Bennet Fitzroy, but everyone calls me Ben. To the normal person out there, I'm just another teen in high school with a tall figure and muscles all over. I suppose I'm good-looking, but I'm sure it's just my ego somewhat. But, I am a little more than just a normal teen. Being a werewolf, and the king of the werewolves, I'm a little more distinct. But that is merely a title. The royal werewolf family isn't exactly the strongest in the world. We're just royalty. That doesn't stop the werewolf world from fawning over us though. By us, I mean me and my sister, Ingrid, along with our two younger brothers. Ingrid is my twin, but because I was born two minutes prior to her, I inherited the title of king, along with
Sitting in the cafeteria at a lunch table with a bunch of popular kids was not how I expected to spend my lunch break. Especially seeing as how I just got here. The table I'm currently sitting at has about six people, including me, at it. To my left is Grid, and to my right is Greg. "So how did you enjoy your first day of being in a new school?" says Grid as she munches her apple. I take a sip of water as I contemplate my answer. "Well..." I start. I've noticed that some of the other kids have stopped talking and have turned to look at me. Where I come from people consider eavesdropping a crime against humanity. As well as stepping on feet and not knowing what McDonald's is. I try my best to ignore them though and say to Grid, "I very much enjoyed it. I like how everyone here is so nice. I think I'll enjoy my time here very much." The others at the table smile and turn back to their own conversations. A hand crashes down on my head, and my hair is ruffled again. I s
Saturday morning and I'm currently out with Grid. Occasionally I'll take a selfie with Grid, or without, and send it to Greg. It's funny to see him complain about how he wishes he was here. Oh well, better luck next time. I hope he's fun playing with balls. And baskets. Balls and baskets on a Saturday. I grin to myself with my hand covering my mouth. "Oh, that's the seafood shack I was talking about. We should stop by there for lunch. The clam chowder is simply divine," says Grid. Today she's dressed in a flowery shirt and a skirt that falls to her knees. Her hair is in a ponytail, and the cat-eye sunglasses look great on her. I was smart enough to bring my black retro-square sunglasses. It'd been chilly recently, but today the weather decided to be sunny. And I mean really sunny. Not a cloud in sight. I brought a coat to wear, but seeing as how I didn't need it, I left it in Grid's car. Grid picked me up this morning around nine-thirty, and we've been walking around the mai
There's a wide room with a matching window that has the scene of the ocean beyond a small meadow and a small group of trees to the right. There are two chairs and one round high coffee table between. Two people sit, one you know, one you don't. At least not from this story. "So," says Cayce, "I'll introduce myself first. But since this is the end of my book then you probably know about me enough. Cayce Vance, eighteen. Married around now, ready for some action, and half-demon and half-angel hybrid." Cayce raises his wings to prove his last statement, and they move around. Because he's wearing a shirt with holes in the back they're visible to the audience. "So, now you introduce yourself," says Cayce to the other person. "Reza Kelson," replies the other person, Reza, "read my book." "Now, this is supposed to be the part where you promote your book so that everyone will read it," says Cayce, "I mean, this bonus chapter is supposed to be the promotion for An Eye for a Bullet.
The waves crash onto the summer beach and spread out across the wet sand. Foam and bits of rocks and broken shells are left behind as the wave retreats back to the sea. Then again, it crashes. And then retreats. Back and forth. A repetitive movement. Yet somewhat soothing to look at.Reaching up and adjusting my sunglasses, I look over at Bennet who's sitting in a reclining beach like the one I sit in. The hot summer day is just at its peak. Hot and humid. It brings out the sweat in your body, and the umbrella that is giving us shade gives little coolness to ward off the sweltering air.And I'm sweating a bit, the amount that is just like when you take out a cool water bottle from the fridge. The second you take it out. Just enough droplets that if you touch it you get a hint of water. It sticks a bit to my shirt uncomfortably.But Bennet besides me is like an ice cube in a stove. Laying back with his arms behind his head, his body sweats profusely, even in the weak shade. He wears
"You sure you're alright?" asks Meg as she helps me through the backdoor. "I think I'll be fine," I say, using just as much of her help as my wings to carry myself, "I'm not going to be walking around too much. Just hanging out in the backyard." "It probably is a good idea anyways that you get out and have some fresh air, anyways," says Meg while nodding, "cabin fever is not fun." "Well, I'd call your house a little more than just a cabin," I say with a laugh, and she joins in. "Aww, you're too kind," says Meg. She helps me maneuver to a little patio set, a table and eight chairs which I sit at one, and she also sets down a few books from school for me. "You going to be alright out here?" asks Meg, "I'm sure you'll be alright, but I just want to be sure." "I will, I promise," I say with a nod, "if I need anything, I'll make sure to shout." "I should be able to hear you," says Meg, nodding at the house, where many of the windows are open to air out the house, "I'll
The sound of breaking glass and wood, mixed in with the roar of chemical energy seems to rip the air into shreds. My body that is in the air is blown back by the force of the explosion, but my wings manage to keep me afloat in the broken air. Stone and glass fly out and some hits my skin, some breaking through it to bite the red flesh beneath. But what's worse is that Frederic is flying at me. He lands on top of me, taking us both down. I scream and try to get him off as we cartwheel through the air like mating bald eagles, but he clamps on to me with a death grip. And then he raises the blade that catches the light of the burning tower. Thinking quickly, I swivel around in a barrel-roll, managing to get him off me. He tumbles through the air and lands on the ground below with a sickening splat. I breathe out in relief, but something burns in my chest as I do. Looking down, I see the knife buried three inches deep right below my collar-bone. I shriek and pull the knife out
The weights are the main problem. Not the height. Thank whatever force there is for the wings I have. But the weights are still here, and they ain't going away anytime soon. The weights I could hold in my hands while I manage to fly up there. But then how would I be able to break through the ceiling? It looks like it's made of wood, and I could easily break through that with my wings. But with my bare hands? Forget it. And even if I managed to get up there, to hold myself there I would need to anchor myself into the wall or the ceiling with my wings, and then I would just be hanging there. Not to mention that Frederic might be up there. If he's up there, I might as well be surrendering myself to him. But if he is up there, and I manage to tear the floor out from under his feet, then I could easily drop him to his death. But then what? I would still have these 30-pound weights hanging around each of my legs, and still with broken ankles. Frederic would be taken care of, but th
Headaches ought to be one of the things that doctors spend their money on to actually get rid of in this world. Otherwise, there's no real hope for this world. At least, in my opinion. And this headache I have right now is just the perfect example to prove that point. I mean, How many people do you know who were actually in a fight with a weirdo and then you get thrown into sand and then...wait...huh? My head seems to be swirling in mud, or tar, or some other heavy and thick substance. My eyes are not able to open, but my body slowly is making its way out to the surface of the muckiness I'm in. The skin on my arms seem to get colder, and I feel a tugging sensation. My arms drift up and up. Up and over my head. And my eyes finally start to crack open. I'm in a dark place. That's what I would say about it. It's dark. It's not that big, but not too small. The circular room I sit in is tiled and the walls are made of stone. It towers up and up, and above I see a faraway ceiling.
Fredric's hand is just about a foot away from Teddy's head. Now three quarters. I seem to feel something die and another something comes alive in my chest. Hope and dread? Undoubtedly. But then a miracle happens. Teddy bends down and pulls the shell out of the sand. Fredric's sinister grin turns into shock as his hand passes through the air. He loses his balance and steps slightly away from Teddy. That's all I need. I beat my wings back, reach Teddy and hug him to my chest. The shell he was holding falls to the sand. At least I think it did. I've already beat my wings forward so as to propel myself and Teddy backward. Fredric now stands twenty yards away. He has black pants that cling to his legs, and his chest is bare. His wet black hair waves in the light breeze and the clouds cover the sun, blotting out all brightness. Teddy squirms in my arms. "Cayce?" I hear Meg shout. Crap! She's human, she needs to get out of here! I glance back and see Meg running over with the
Walking into the kitchen, I take in a deep breath of the good smell of bacon. I sigh in content at the delicious smell. "Good morning Cayce," says Meg when she notices me. "Good morning," I chirp back. I walk over and give a quick hug. "Cooking breakfast?" I ask. "Yeah, gotta have the table ready for the big family," she says as she stirs the bacon with a spatula. Next to the stove two plates piled with buttered pancakes sit steaming. I also see a plate with cooked pieces of tomato, as well as another with sunny-side-up eggs piled on it. "Somebody's been busy," I say nonchalantly. I step over the drying rack and get some water from the tap, taking a sip as I sit at the kitchen island. "Tell me about it," says Meg. She looks over at the clock, about nine in the morning. "They'll start to get up soon. Where's Bennet?" "He's upstairs. He was in the bathroom when I came down here." "How is it sleeping with him?" "It's nice," I say with a grin. "He's like an electric heat
I don't think there was any other point in time that was this strange. At least in life my life. Bennet and I have been spending the whole of the last two weeks cooped up in my house or his house, being together and safe. Grid and Neil, along with Teddy went to school, but Bennet thought it wasn't safe, hence me being absent. The time we spent together was strange. It was harmony and heaven. A kind of limbo. Because I was just so happy to spend time with him I think I got a little stupid. I was careless, and just a bit of center. The same could be said for Bennet. He accidentally poured bleach into the bathtub instead of a bubble-bath solution. His leg hairs were bleached white. Today, winter break started. Grid, Neil and Teddy didn't have any school, and Harold and Meg are both a bit annoyed that they have to take care of all the kids. I'm just enjoying the company of the Fitzroy family. They're very rowdy, and loud, but they have this strange harmony of theirs. It's nice to