First FanFic! Eep! Excitment! Anyway, hope you tell me what you think of it!
So, here's Chapter 1, short and.. strange. It gets better, trust me.
Topsy
Disclaimer: I don't own anything oober recognizable... Jonathan, Isabelle, Jace, Valentine, Angel Square, Alicante, Idris, and anything else that gives you a strange sense of deja vu.
Isabelle Lightwood lay huddled on the muddy ground before him. Her dark hair covered part of her contorted face, but not enough to obscure her ruby lips from view. They were parted in a shriek that echoed off the surrounding trees, the river that rushed madly by, and the body of her fair-haired friend…………
He swung his arm down again, raking the blood stained whip across her writhing body. Her scream intensified, filling him with a deep, dark satisfaction. The gashes that ran from her shoulder to her hip oozed her worthless blood. It flowed in streams down to the matted grass, the earth drinking it up, taking it into its soil. He brought her weapon down again, this time letting the tip lick her once-pretty face and tear those round lips…
Her screams seised, and scarlet fluid dripped from her mouth. He uttered a merciless laugh with the next lash. "What fools you and your family are—thinking you stand a chance against Valentine? Against me? How pathetic. And to think I almost kissed you. You little Lightwood bitch! I should have smashed your face in with that hammer when I had the chance…"
And then the edges of his vision bled a heavy, dark ink, slowly narrowing his range of sight. Something heavy protruded from his back… a horrible darkness leaked through his body, seeping itself into his veins….
He turned slowly around, anticipating the death of whoever was responsible for doing this to him. And in the narrow field of his sight, he saw golden eyes… the Herondale boy, his imposter brother, watching him with eyes wide with…. What? Jace was dead! He had been killed minutes earlier! This was impossible…
Then the realization gripped him: the golden-eyed boy had stabbed him. The boy with the angel blood had used his wimpy little dagger… to stab him.
A wave of astonishment claimed him a second before the darkness did.
A pain in his chest… his lungs screaming for air…
Jonathan whipped his head out of the river water. He spewed a stream of the murky liquid before freezing in shock. He was dead—this must be hell… no, hell couldn't have fresh breezes carrying faint hints of pine and damp earth. But… the boy had stabbed him… it was a clean shot, perfect aim…
Jonathan lifted a soaking wet hand gloved in mud to his chest.
There was no beat.
His fingers curled around the front of his tee shirt and he ripped the ruined fabric from his body. Again, he pressed his palm to the middle of his chest.
Nothing.
The steady thumping was gone, silenced forever. A sinister smile cracked his scared face. His demon blood had pulled through for him yet again. He rolled to his knees, then soggily to his feet. Lifting his chin, he could see the lights of Angel Square. Fireworks blossomed in the starry sky. The people of Idris were celebrating. That could only mean…
Valentine was dead.
Jonathan felt no loss, no grief for his father's death. He had lost such useless emotions with the beat of his heart. All he experienced, as he watched the Shadowhunters and Downworlders celebrate together, was a huge adrenaline rush. It flowed through him, to touch his every nerve, to power his aching muscles in a crazy surge…
His father was out of the way. The Shadowhunters thought Jonathan to be dead. Oh, the opportunities were endless.
Jonathan picked the leaves out of his fair hair, letting them get whisked away by the wind. First thing's first, he sorted through in his head, he needed his ring. His pathetic sister had no right to wear such a powerful object so casually. He did. He suspected she wouldn't give it up willingly, though… fine, one more death, what did he care.
He couldn't help but utter a ruthless laugh before taking off down the muddy slope to the merrily lit city miles below.