Hi guys I KNOW WHAT YOUR THINKING!Another story?
Well thats the thing with me, when I get writers block for one story, I start another to see if it helps
Thats just how I rooooll!
Take me into your arms...
"Mother! Lyla! Pearl!" Hannah screamed from inside of her old baked-bean can. The wind was howling in her ears, and all around her was wind, rain and gloom. She knew she was still in dreary old England, the weather told her that. Just about a kilometer away from her there was a small town. She needed to get to the town, or else she could be swepped away by the wind, or dragged away and played with by a stray cat, or worse... eaten. A group of small figures passed her through the darkness. A group of children quickly making their way home, no doubt.
Hannah thought about screaming for help, but then decided against it. They would never hear her over the wind and rain, and if they did, would probably try to kill her. It was 1956 and she doubted that anyone, man or child, had seen the likes of her. Standing at four and a half inches with reasonably sized wings on her back, she would be a strange sight to all, and probably the towns newest test subject. And as not many un-harmful tests had been created at this point in time, she knew that wouldn't be fun... for her. Therefore she decided to try to make her own way to the town. She didn't know how she'd got there, the last thing she remembered was her home beside the lake disappearing, and finding herself further north of home. No friends, no family. Nothing. That was how she woke; in an old baked-bean can.
As she carefully stepped out of shelter she was overwhelmed by the gusts of wind, and she shook violently in the cold. She took one step. Then another. Then another. When she finally built up the courage to open her wings and fly, she was struck down by a branch in the wind. She fell into the mud groaning with pain, one of her wings torn and damaged.
She tried to keep her eyes open.
Don't fall asleep. Don't fall asleep.
It was no use, the whole world went black around her.
A young scientist was on his way back to his little town on the out skirts of Leicestershire. It was an unusually stormy night, but young Jacques accepted it, as he always did.
Dr. Jacques-Yves Linnaeus.
Not only was this 26 year old mad about science (literally), but he also had a passion for dance. He loved the movements, the rhythms, the way his feet tapped to the music. Just two years ago he had finally, after years of studying and taking part in many practicals, received his PhD. Many asked him, 'Why dance?', and he would simply reply, 'Fate leads us to many paths going in many directions, but I, however, have chosen my own!'.
Now as he was making his way home, Jacques was absent mindedly writing up the blue prints in his head for yet another experiment. No doubt this one would fail like all the rest, but many admired him for how he tried all these wacky, crazy things. He was officially the towns well known and much loved scientist, and he loved it too! Although many people were a little nervous of his experiments, as anyone would be if they heard bangs and explosions coming from underneath his small cottage, he tried his best to be a normal, sociable citizen of
But little did he know that his walk home that horrid night, would change his life forever.
As he was walking, Jacques spotted something shimmering in the mud. He was about one measly kilometer from his home, and was in no hurry, so he decided to take a look.
He drew closer and what he saw was no coin, jewel, spectacle, or ladies necklace like he had assumed it would be, but was in fact a wing. And it looked like that of a butterfly.
Feeling sorry for the poor thing, Jacques scooped up the mud around the wing, not wanting to uncover it till he got back to his humble abode.
His hands instantly froze from the cold of the filth, but he didn't think twice, for he saw the wing twitch and knew he had to hurry, or the dear butterfly would most definitely die.
So he set of on the rest of his short journey home, but not before mentally noting how beautiful the wing was.
When he was finally home, Jacques mentally thanked God for fire, and threw his coat over the side of his arm chair. He gently placed his heap of mud on the side table and knelt in front of the fire, poking it to life.
When it sprung to life suddenly, nearly burning his small pencil mustache off, he went into the kitchen and set the steel kettle onto the gas.
He started searching through the cupboards, drawers, he even looked in his half built radio active microwave, almost frantically.
Once he found what he was looking for, Jacques went back to his small living room and perched himself in front of the coffee table with a pair of tweezers, cotton wool, a glass of water, and a jam jar with holes poked in the lid.
He dipped the cotton wool into the cool water and gently stoked it down the wing. More swirls of color were revealed with each dab, and, eventually, Jacques had uncovered two beautiful wings.
But the young scientist was confused. These were larger than butterfly wings, and where was the small skinny body?!
Suddenly something small poked out of the mud, and as Jacques leaned closer, he saw to his surprise... a hand?
He yelped and skidded back into the sofa, knocking his head.
A hand? It was human.
He, like many others, had watched the recent thriller 'The Fly', but never in a million years would he have thought it possible to actually do such a thing as mix your body with that of an insect.
Cautiosly, he eased himself closer again, rubbing the back of his head, wincing in pain.
The hand moved again, and Jacques had had enough. He grabbed the cotton bud again, quickly scraping as much dirt and filth of as possible. When he was finished he stood up, breathing heavily from shock.
There, lying in a watery mucky substance on his coffee table, was a tiny female, about four inches tall, with those beautiful delicate wings attached securely to her back.
They were dented and scratched, one of then torn. Her face bruised and layered with dirt.
Jacques leaned down and gently wiped her face with his thumb.
He was taken a back by her sheer beauty, and not wanting to think of how such a fascinating creature had ended up lying in the mud. Suddenly, the female sat up, her eyes darting around the unfamiliar room. Then they finally locked onto Jacques's, and, seeing his lab coat, she scooted away.
When she tried to fly away she cried out in pain, glaring back at her damaged wing.
Hannah looked back at Jacques, and found that he was now right down in her face, inspecting her.
"Please don't dissect me!" she screamed, cowering away from him.
He jumped back in fright.
"Y-y-y-you can t-t-talk..." he stammered, backing away.
Hannah rolled her eyes at the 'genius'.
"Of course I can talk!" she snapped "How else would I communicate?" The male in front of her had gone pale, and seemed a little dazed by the situation.
"Oh..." he mumbled softly, then past out. Clearly he was just as terrified of her as she was of him. Hannah wasn't sure why though; he could squash her like a fly under his black loafers she had just noticed he was wearing.
Time to go, she decided, ceasing her chance of escape.
But as she climbed slowly down from the table and silently made her way to the door, she stopped. She couldn't just leave him like that! It wasn't fair. Was she showing kindness to a human? But he was different from the rest, he didn't try to kill her, and she hadn't woken up on an operating table. He had simply watched her, and then fainted in complete shock. And besides, she wasn't going to get any where in the horrible weather outside, so she might as well stay put for the night, and look after the poor soul on the floor. Now that she looked closely at him, and so terrified of him, Hannah noticed that the young gentleman was a good looking lad, with a kind, strong, sophisticated face.
She knew what this was...
It was love at first sight.
So there you have it, a total sh*t beginning, oh well, please tell me what you think!
Btw, has anybody noticed anything familiar about this OC? Anybody she reminds you of? XD I'm so eviiiil.