Hi guys! This is my first piece of work on FanFiction! Any and all criticism is welcome.
The story is set after Last Stand of Dead Men, however there are a few important details to note:
-China is NOT Grand Mage, and the whole scene with her didn't happen
-Darquesse did come out for a short time period at the end, but Skulduggery brought Valkyrie back before she escaped
-Erskine was NOT a traitor; Ghastly and Anton were not killed and Erskine is still a trusted ally
-Madame Mist was killed by Darquesse at some point
-Valkyrie is (somehow) 24 years old
CHAPTER 1: Stupid Skeleton
"What is their problem?" Valkyrie Cain yelled at Skulduggery Pleasant, whilst running along the gleaming new corridors of the Sanctuary. They were being chased by a group of mages who had decided, somehow, that the Sanctuary War and all its casualties were due to the Dead Men. In their eyes, the seven sorcerers had possessed the power to stop the Sanctuary War, but "chickened out" at the last minute.
Oh, and there was the teensy-tiny problem of Darquesse and Lord Vile's true identities being revealed.
"Well, at a guess, I'd say we are," replied Skulduggery. Valkyrie rolled her eyes, too out of breath to provide a verbal comeback.
They rounded a corner, and saw Ghastly Bespoke and Erskine Ravel up ahead, having been chased out of their office, and also, it seemed, out of their positions as Elders. They glanced back, saw the two, and kept running towards the emergency exit.
The four of them emerged into the sunlight and dived into the Bentley, which was conveniently parked nearby and waiting for them.
"Seatbelt," said Skulduggery, and Valkyrie had barely managed to clip it into place when the Bentley shot off, roaring down the streets of Roarhaven.
"I'm sure you all realise that we're now criminals," said Skulduggery, seemingly unfazed by running what seemed like a marathon to the other three. "There is no way we can return to the Sanctuary, or even to Roarhaven. They'll be hunting for us, so even our own homes won't be safe. In fact," he turned to them, and his skull, although as blank as ever, held a certain mischievous air about it. "I'd say we're on the run."
"So where are we heading?" asked Erskine. "'Cause I'm telling you now, Skul, I'm not staying in some run-down motel on the outskirts of Ireland. I'm a Gra- well, ex- Grand Mage. I've got standards, you know. I don't think I'd be able to cope in a dirty little room, only seeing sunlight when I'm running to the next filthy motel because one of you three has blown our cover; having to eat mouldy cheese and drink stale water and sleep on a hard and lumpy mattress and not seeing sunlight and-"
Erskine's rant was abruptly cut short when Ghastly awarded him with a slap to the back of his head.
"Get a hold of yourself, man," muttered Bespoke.
"Skulduggery, where are we heading?" Valkyrie questioned.
"Well, first we're dropping off Erskine at his home, and Ghastly at his shop, so they can gather their belongings and get everything they need. Then, once done, Ghastly will drive his van to Erskine's home and pick Erskine and his stuff up, and then head to your mansion, where we are going now, or Erskine will take his sports car to Ghastly's shop and Ghastly will get in with all of his belongings, and they'll drive to your mansion; either way doesn't matter. Meanwhile, you and I will be at the mansion. You'll be packing your stuff while I will be having a highly intellectual conversation with Gordon about the situation we are in, and Grace Kelly, and then when you're done with the packing and the other two have arrived, we shall all go to my house, minus Gordon, no offence to him, for us to formulate a plan, call the other Dead Men, and for me to pack my exquisite suits, and choose between my 237 hats which ones to take, as they won't all fit into a suitcase, but such are the risks I take for my," he sniffed, "friends."
There was silence for a moment, until Ravel spoke. "Uhh... What was that first bit again…?" he asked.
Skulduggery sighed, and then put on an over-exaggerated voice as if he was talking to four-year-olds. "Erskine, you are going to go home. You are going to pack. Ghastly, you are going to go home as well, and you are going to pack. Is everyone clear so far?" Skulduggery said, ignoring the death glares being sent his way from three directions, perfectly aware of how frustrating he was being.
"Valkyrie, we are going to go to the mansion, and you are going to pack, too. Then, we'll go to my house, just like Erskine and Ghastly. We will all meet there together, and I will pack, and we will make plans."
By the end of his immature tirade, he was being slapped by Ghastly, poked by Valkyrie and the back of his seat was being kicked by Erskine.
