The Dæmon pendants
AN: you should have read TAS before reading this story
Disclaimers: The Author is God, so I hope they doesn't mind if I much around in his universe. I.e. Most of the people aren't mine (it kind of SUCKS) but some of them are (hee hee). I am just 3 things:
-Bored out of my gosh darned mind. Though it could be because I'm out of anti-depression pills and I'm broke and can't afford any weed. OK! OK! I'm kidding and I'm bored because my book was supposed to come out in stores on the 24th of December, well, HELL-O! It's the 24th today and guess what? IT NOT OUT!!!!!!!!!! Urrrrrrrrrrrrg! : @
- Devising fan-fic ideas from Starbucks Vanilla crème Frapachinos. (Normally I hate that store because I don't like coffee, I know I'm weird but oh well, but this stuff is really REALLY good!!!!!!!)
- Writing stories is a grrrrrrrrreat way of getting out of homework. (Ok, how mean is it to give students homework over the holidays? IT'S VERY MEAN)
Thanks for reading this though I really don't think you did because it is really boring. I hope you enjoy my story.
What would you think if you saw this man? This middle-aged man with short hair and dark eyes. You might think that he had had a bad childhood. Or maybe that he had been a bad kid who had played once too often with his mom's favorite carving knife. What ever you may think, it is nothing compared to what this man has experienced. William Parry lifted his briefcase out from under the seat.
"Dad," came the cry of a 12-year-old girl next to him, "Dad, where are we going?"
"To see an old friend of mine," said Will, his eyes looking over the contents of the briefcase. Inside there was a sheath with a charred handle, decorated with angels. Suddenly their bus came to a stop.
"Botanic garden!" called the driver, "9th stop. The Botanic garden." Will stood up,
"C'mon, Lizzie," he said. They clambered off the bus and began to walk. As Will looked up at the gates of the garden, he remembered the other reason he was here. It was June 20th, Midsummer's Eve.
He had made this trip to visit his great friend, Mary. He came over to this side of town every month or so now. She was getting on in years and wasn't as fit as she used to be and she couldn't take that much care of her self anymore so Will had to look after her.
When Will and Lizzie reached the end of the block they turn into a block of flats. But before they could enter the building a woman with a face Will knew and always welcomed. But Mary Malone's normally kind and caring face was lined and riddled with fear.
"Will," she said as she gasped for breath, "Will, it's the Shadows. They're moving again." Will's face when from a peach color to gray faster than a bullet. "Let's go," he muttered.
Mary lead Will to the telescope and told him to look though it. It looked like a regular telescope but instead of lens at the top, there was a small amber spyglass. Will's eyes moved from Mary to his own daughter's puzzled face. Will had always known that he would one day have to tell Lizzie about his adventure with Lyra sooner or later. Now the story would more liking be sooner then later. He looked into the telescope and saw the familiar golden particle. But now something was different, gasped, stood up and sank into the chair next to him, with his head in his hand. He muttered a few words that sounded awfully like, "You can not be serious."
"I'm dead serious. I know what I see every time I look out there and I think that you saw that same bloody thing!" Mary shouted the last words out.
"Dad? Dad? Can I look out there? Please." said Lizzie.
"Not know, Lizzie. Daddy's got a lot on his mind. There are some toys in that chest. Why don't you go and play while me and Mary talk in the kitchen." Lizzie scowled but did as she was told while Will and Mary left the room.
"Now what do we do?" said Will.
"I don't know," replied Mary, her face troubled.
Will stood up and wondered around the small kitchen, looking at every thing as if the object he was staring at would help him understand what to do. Unfortunately, as he had been proved before, this method of thinking did nothing to get him out of this sticky situation.
"OK", Will said, "This is what we know. First: some one is using.something that we don't know but is opening a way out for the dust. Second: that is not the Knife because I have that. But that's all and that is not much to work with."
Then, from the other room there came a scream. Will and Mary stopped what they were talking about and ran to Lizzie, for she was the only other person in the house. They found her, rolling on the floor and sobbing.
"Oh my god! What is it?" cried Mary, running over to the little girl.
Will repeated the first thing that Mary had said, but he wasn't looking at his daughter. He was looking about a foot away from her, where, mixed with blood on the carpet, were the ring finger and the pinky, severed at the joint. This scene was all too familiar. Will swore and told Lizzie to lift up her left hand. All hopes of coincidence faded away as Will showed Mary Lizzie's hand and then his own. Mary gasped.
"Where did u get this?" asked Will, even though he knew the answer. Lizzie pointed to the briefcase that lay open on the floor. The Knife was unsheathed and all seven parts lay on the floor.
"Now we have two problems: Dust, and the Knife had a new bearer. Both as we can see are not good."
"Shouldn't we take her to the hospital?" said Mary.
"No, my friend. What we need is that ointment. Kirjava's coming and she'll bring the ointment. I cant believe how much of it o had left."
Will looked down at Lizzie and saw that she was going into shock. He knew that he would have to mend the knife and he knew how. For the passed ten years he had been teaching welding at the local secondary school. Then he remembered how hard it had been to hold it together in his mind and he wasn't even making it. Will sighed and sat down. All three of then sat and waited for Will's dæmon, Kirjava to arrive.
(Well? What do you think? This is my first story so I know it's a bit crummy, but if you review, it might make the second chapter better)
AN: you should have read TAS before reading this story
Disclaimers: The Author is God, so I hope they doesn't mind if I much around in his universe. I.e. Most of the people aren't mine (it kind of SUCKS) but some of them are (hee hee). I am just 3 things:
-Bored out of my gosh darned mind. Though it could be because I'm out of anti-depression pills and I'm broke and can't afford any weed. OK! OK! I'm kidding and I'm bored because my book was supposed to come out in stores on the 24th of December, well, HELL-O! It's the 24th today and guess what? IT NOT OUT!!!!!!!!!! Urrrrrrrrrrrrg! : @
- Devising fan-fic ideas from Starbucks Vanilla crème Frapachinos. (Normally I hate that store because I don't like coffee, I know I'm weird but oh well, but this stuff is really REALLY good!!!!!!!)
- Writing stories is a grrrrrrrrreat way of getting out of homework. (Ok, how mean is it to give students homework over the holidays? IT'S VERY MEAN)
Thanks for reading this though I really don't think you did because it is really boring. I hope you enjoy my story.
What would you think if you saw this man? This middle-aged man with short hair and dark eyes. You might think that he had had a bad childhood. Or maybe that he had been a bad kid who had played once too often with his mom's favorite carving knife. What ever you may think, it is nothing compared to what this man has experienced. William Parry lifted his briefcase out from under the seat.
"Dad," came the cry of a 12-year-old girl next to him, "Dad, where are we going?"
"To see an old friend of mine," said Will, his eyes looking over the contents of the briefcase. Inside there was a sheath with a charred handle, decorated with angels. Suddenly their bus came to a stop.
"Botanic garden!" called the driver, "9th stop. The Botanic garden." Will stood up,
"C'mon, Lizzie," he said. They clambered off the bus and began to walk. As Will looked up at the gates of the garden, he remembered the other reason he was here. It was June 20th, Midsummer's Eve.
He had made this trip to visit his great friend, Mary. He came over to this side of town every month or so now. She was getting on in years and wasn't as fit as she used to be and she couldn't take that much care of her self anymore so Will had to look after her.
When Will and Lizzie reached the end of the block they turn into a block of flats. But before they could enter the building a woman with a face Will knew and always welcomed. But Mary Malone's normally kind and caring face was lined and riddled with fear.
"Will," she said as she gasped for breath, "Will, it's the Shadows. They're moving again." Will's face when from a peach color to gray faster than a bullet. "Let's go," he muttered.
Mary lead Will to the telescope and told him to look though it. It looked like a regular telescope but instead of lens at the top, there was a small amber spyglass. Will's eyes moved from Mary to his own daughter's puzzled face. Will had always known that he would one day have to tell Lizzie about his adventure with Lyra sooner or later. Now the story would more liking be sooner then later. He looked into the telescope and saw the familiar golden particle. But now something was different, gasped, stood up and sank into the chair next to him, with his head in his hand. He muttered a few words that sounded awfully like, "You can not be serious."
"I'm dead serious. I know what I see every time I look out there and I think that you saw that same bloody thing!" Mary shouted the last words out.
"Dad? Dad? Can I look out there? Please." said Lizzie.
"Not know, Lizzie. Daddy's got a lot on his mind. There are some toys in that chest. Why don't you go and play while me and Mary talk in the kitchen." Lizzie scowled but did as she was told while Will and Mary left the room.
"Now what do we do?" said Will.
"I don't know," replied Mary, her face troubled.
Will stood up and wondered around the small kitchen, looking at every thing as if the object he was staring at would help him understand what to do. Unfortunately, as he had been proved before, this method of thinking did nothing to get him out of this sticky situation.
"OK", Will said, "This is what we know. First: some one is using.something that we don't know but is opening a way out for the dust. Second: that is not the Knife because I have that. But that's all and that is not much to work with."
Then, from the other room there came a scream. Will and Mary stopped what they were talking about and ran to Lizzie, for she was the only other person in the house. They found her, rolling on the floor and sobbing.
"Oh my god! What is it?" cried Mary, running over to the little girl.
Will repeated the first thing that Mary had said, but he wasn't looking at his daughter. He was looking about a foot away from her, where, mixed with blood on the carpet, were the ring finger and the pinky, severed at the joint. This scene was all too familiar. Will swore and told Lizzie to lift up her left hand. All hopes of coincidence faded away as Will showed Mary Lizzie's hand and then his own. Mary gasped.
"Where did u get this?" asked Will, even though he knew the answer. Lizzie pointed to the briefcase that lay open on the floor. The Knife was unsheathed and all seven parts lay on the floor.
"Now we have two problems: Dust, and the Knife had a new bearer. Both as we can see are not good."
"Shouldn't we take her to the hospital?" said Mary.
"No, my friend. What we need is that ointment. Kirjava's coming and she'll bring the ointment. I cant believe how much of it o had left."
Will looked down at Lizzie and saw that she was going into shock. He knew that he would have to mend the knife and he knew how. For the passed ten years he had been teaching welding at the local secondary school. Then he remembered how hard it had been to hold it together in his mind and he wasn't even making it. Will sighed and sat down. All three of then sat and waited for Will's dæmon, Kirjava to arrive.
(Well? What do you think? This is my first story so I know it's a bit crummy, but if you review, it might make the second chapter better)