Title: The Controllers
Rating: Mature
Disclaimer: I do not own the movie the Covenant nor do I know anyone who worked on said movie. I do not make any moneys from this work of fiction. Any similarities between real life and this fiction are purely corrincidital. DO NOT use or recreate any part of this fiction without the written consent of author.
Part One
Living Dead Girl…S
De P.O.V.
I looked over into the cool grey eyes of Hazel Quinn as her full pink lips formed an evil smirk. I knew then that I should be very afraid. Her auburn side swept bang shifted into her left eyes, letting me know that she was definitely up to something.
Damnit! That meant I was in deep, without paddle.
"No," I said as I pulled my waist long, coal black hair into a pony tail. I was readying myself, because I knew that even though I said no, these bitches would make me. Damnit, I hate being the odd man out. Correction, odd women out.
"Come on, De, you know you want to," she sung at me. Gods, I do believe that I am may do this.
Who the hell am I kidding? I know I will. Peer pressure is a bitch, and so are these three!
I glanced around quickly. Quinn was to my right. Her 5 foot 6 frame seemed to loom over me like I was a trick or treater at a haunted house, and I didn't bring a fresh pair of princess panties. Her loose fitting dark jeans hugged her round hips, and her skull and cross bones tank didn't meet the top of said jeans.
Bella was to my left, smirking that same evil grin that Quinn was managing on my right. Her blonde wavy hair was resting on her slender shoulders. Her black school girl type skirt was being rolled up, making it shorter and shorter as the seconds zoomed by. A tight pink top left very little to the imagination. All who would see her would know that she may have a waif like body, but her double d's were real.
Lastly, Jo was standing behind me. She was looking like she was as ready as a convicted felon who served ten years and hadn't had sex in twelve. Her blood red straight hair was braided and laid down her lean back until it met her elbows. Her tight jeans and equally tight baby blue shirt screamed out about her sexual frustration.
"You know," I began as I pulled at my Vols hoodie, "You bitches look like sluts."
"Now, De," Bella began as she threw her bony arm around my shoulders. "Shut up and let's do it."
I lost. Damn, I hate to lose!
Sighing, I nodded and looked up into the sky. Cloudless, perfect for what we had (correction they, not me) had planned.
"Good," whispered Quinn as she built her power. Her cool grey eyes turned an errie white as a gentle cool breeze began to wisp its way over us and those partiers near the beach.
Then suddenly, the rap music that was planning turned into "our theme song", Rob Zombies Living Dead Girl.
"Come on, ladies," she breathed as her eyes faded back to the cool grey.
Nodding, I stood up and marched the death march. In a straight line of four exotic women, I pulled my hoodie further up over my head.
Walking over the mound of sand, we were greeted by every young person turning and drooling (do women drool?) over the four new arrivals. I peeked at my three companions as they allowed their vision to take in to sight of beer, fire, and bodies.
I really need some Atovan. Drugs are my friend!
Those three must have found who they were seeking because one minute they were there. The next, they were gone. Damn, I bet David Blain wished he could do that!
I walked down the mound and found them chatting it up with four of the hottest men I have ever seen. The Sons of Ipswich, what a boy band name. I smirked as I pictured them saying "I want it that way".
"De, come here," Jo said over the roar of music, voices, and the fires.
I matched the green mile over to the chair, I mean, the small group of lovely people. Note the sarcasm. I wished I had a priest.
"Or exorcist," I mumbled.
"This is De," Quinn stated as she peered at the blond that I knew was Reid Garwin.
"Hello," I grumbled. I hate this.
"De, that's my grandmother's name," he said as he stuck his hand out to greet me.
I glanced at it, then at him. "Really? What does it stand for?"
"Denise?"
"Wrong answer, playboy. Delilah." I growled as I turned and walked away.
Yeah, I know I'm a bitch. But, I hated being here and having to be involved. I'm more of a stand on the side lines and watch the fight rather than be involved and ending up with a mean right hook.
I wondered over to the water and plopped down on my rather large (or what Quinn calls my ghetto booty) rear. I stretched my short legs out in front of me and stared.
We knew the boy banders, or Sons, would be here. We knew that they would be "drawn" to us. But, hell fire and brim stone, I hate having to do this. But life sucks, you're up shit creek, whatever smartass saying you would like to use for this f'ed up situation, then use it.
"Delilah, huh?" I heard. I peered up to see that damned smirking blond.
"What, Nick Carter?" I growled as I turned my head back to the water.
He just chuckled at me. I repeat, he chuckled at me. WHAT THE F?!
"That's a very sexy name," he stated as he sat down in the sand next to me. His 5 foot 10 frame dwarfed my short 5 foot even one.
"Thanks! Now go and find someone else to do the sideways tango with cause it ain't going to be me."
He chuckled again. Now, I have to admit, I do find him rather sexy in a he is a jerk but I would fuck him way. But, does he have to laugh at me? I mean, hell, I ain't funny. I am a bitch. Big difference, ass.
"What if I said I want you in that bed doing…what did you call it?" He lifted his right gloved hand and touched his chin with an un-gloved finger. "The sideways tango?"
Touché ass.
"Look Garwin, I ain't like my three crazy ass bitches for friends up there, who I am sure, are making plans with your other three boy banders. I am a bitch and a half. So go somewhere else." I growled as I stood up and stomped over to my three amiegos.
"Quinn," I began but was cut off but a bush of red hair.
"Look at the four trash cans."
"WHAT THE F?" I yelled as I somehow jumped from the back of the small crowd to front row center.
"Oh, look Aaron, this one is a straight up trash barrel." Her sickening sweet voice made my blood pile drive my brain.
"Look here you stupid heifer, you better watch what you are saying before I kick those horse teeth through your skull." I growled as I stepped up into her face.
Bad idea. I can't be too intimidating at my short height. Plus, her breath smelled (real grown up huh?).
"Bitch," her road kill looking boyfriend growled as he pushed his nasty body between me and her.
"Oh god," I gasped and my skin crawled from the small contact he gave me. "Thanks, now I have to have a flea dip."
The small group around me laughed, making Aaron get angrier. His ugly face turned a deeper shade of red. He growled at me, turning his damnedist to intimidate me. How in the hell could I be scared of his ass...oops! face.
"Aaron, back off," the hottie behind me growled. I glanced quickly and released that it was Caleb Danvers.
You know something, he is hot as hell, and smelled damn good. I wouldn't mind taping that body just once. Maybe twice…or three times…Hell maybe for two years!
Shaking my black mane, I glared back at Aaron.
"Ok, hold on," someone said as a board body jammed itself between me and the Lord of Smell. He glanced over at the Dragon Breath Lady and said "You were being kind of bitchy."
Suddenly, one of Aaron's "gang" (I use that term loosely) decided that he needed to up chuck his dinner on the back of the ogre.
"Holy…" I began as I smiled.
Wait, I smiled? I don't smile. I am not a smiler.
I looked at Reid, who I knew had just made this happen. He was laughing and looked hot with that smile on his face. He looked at me and winked. My knees felt weak and my heart stopped.
Shit, now I want to play hide the purple headed yogurt slinger with this blond god.
Crap, now I think I need to have my brain removed and thrown into a washing machine.
"Hey guys, the cops are on their way," yelled the DJ.
"Girls," Quinn called as she ran from Pogue and up over the mound of sand.
Great, po-pos hate me and I need to jet. I booked it over the same mound that everyone decided was the best exit and ran to my four door black Dodge pickup. I hopped into the driver's seat as my three friends in low places flung themselves into the empty cab. I jammed the key in and turned it over.
"Shit!" I yelled as the damn truck didn't roar to life.
"Hey, the truck won't start," Quinn yelled out the window to the black hummer.
Reid quickly marched over to us and jerked the hood open. I felt a quick tickle run down my spine. I passed glances to my cohorts. Reid was using and we knew it.
"Crap!" I screamed as my truck growled and came to life. "Thank you!"
Did I just say Thank you to Reid Garwin?
Yep, I need some serious help.
I sped off as quickly as I could. The old truck weaved through the trees and bushes as I prayed that the cops weren't behind me.
"De, you can slow down," Quinn yelled over the roaring engine. "The cops followed the guys."
I released my lead foot, and looked into my rear view mirror. Darkness and trees met me.
"What the hell have you evil witches got me into?"
They just laughed. LAUGHED! Bitches.