Author's note: Hi there! Despite the fact I have been a member of fanfiction since 2006 I have yet to post anything, and so here is my first fic. Hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: I don't own 'Finding Sky'. It belongs to the lovely Joss Stirling.

It had been pouring down for what seemed like days, yet the rain would just not stop. All that could be heard what the hammering of the little drops against the metal walls like little bullets. Thunder rumbled throughout the winter air, constant and unrelenting. The moon was blacked out by thick, ominous clouds that wept in sorrow, blocking out any light from reaching the room. The room itself was no bigger than a closet. Off-white paint that had once covered the walls now chipped and peeled all over. Foul smelling mould grew around the base and splotched across the floor. Several cardboard boxes were towered against one wall, swaying precariously as the room shook. Thunder roared and shook the heavens as lightening darted across the sky, revealing a pile of dirty rags in its angry flash. A series of small explosion and metal bangs rocketed throughout the room as the shaking finally stopped. Quick, heavy footsteps rushed towards the room, stopping exactly outside the door. Suddenly the door handle jiggled back and forth. This happened many times before it stopped. Cursing the door flew inwards with tremendous force, smashing into the wall behind it.

"Damnit! Piece of crap!" the being snarled, hurling itself into the room. The room filled with the entire form of the large, hulking creature known as a man. Thick, bulging bands of muscle wrapped around his limbs, seeming unnatural in quantity. As he began ransacking the room greasy curls of straw coloured hair dropped into his face. Out of the boxes came his secret stash; knifes guns and other dangerous paraphernalia. Silver flashed out of the corner of his eye dragging him away from his task. Lightening streaked across the sky throwing light onto what had caught his attention, its form glinting in his eye. They say that eyes are the window to the soul. If that is true then this man had nothing as black eyes as black as night started at the fine piece of metal work in his hand, unemotionally. Rough, calloused fingers stroked the trigger over and over again as if caressing a lover before dropping it to the floor, collecting an array of work tools instead. His blank obsidian eyes surveyed the room before resting on the heap of rags in the corner. Moving swifter than a man of his size should, his big, rock-solid leg swung out to strike the pile with a forceful whack. Grinning in satisfaction he turned and swaggered out the room, pivoting in the doorway.

"Get this bloody mess cleaned up, Brat. We don't keep you around for you to sit doing nothing" he hissed out, before swinging the door closed with a force that rattled the window pane. Reaching from under the assaulted rag pile appeared a small, pale hand, trembling, as it moved the other rags. Large, green eyes looked out from under knotted brown curls, lifeless and dull. They were nowhere near as expressive as a child of that age, should be. Dirt smudged over her sunken cheeks together with dark mottled bruises. Clothed in no more than a stained white nightdress, she arose and stumbled over to the mess the man had made. Gathering them up as quickly and as quietly as she could, she eventually picked up the object the man had held earlier. Despite her age, she knew what this was and the devastation it could unleash, in fact, she had seen it in use only days ago. The man, her daddy, had pointed it at the stranger who had been knocking on the door, shouting. Her daddy had pressed the magic button and the man had fell asleep right there in front of their home, silent and still.

The little girl, of around five years, examined the heavy object with very faint wonder in her eyes. Her wrists hurt from holding it for a long time, pondering. She wondered if the strange man had woken up from his nap yet. Her mummy's screaming and daddy's shouting had not woken him up, surprising her. The man looked so peaceful and happy when he was sleeping like he was having a good dream. Unlike her. Whenever she took her naps she saw scary things; dark shadows, daddy hitting and mummy shouting. All she wanted was to have fun dreams and to sleep peacefully for once. Maybe then her mummy and daddy would stop being so angry with her. Raising the pretty object to her head the little girl closed her eyes and counted to three…

One…two…three…click…

Slowly opening one eye she shook it backwards and forwards. Pouting, she placed it in the box wondering why she had not gone to sleep. Did she not deserve nice, peaceful dreams? She wasn't a bad girl…was she? Mummy and daddy were always saying she was ungrateful and a disgrace no matter what she done. Is that why she could not have the happy dreams? She lay down her head, matted hair splayed across the floor, and stared up at the flaking roof.

"Why..?"

Author's note: Yeah. Well. Maybe a little dark and that just now but hopefully it gets better. I'm just gonna go with it and see where it takes me, although I have no intentions of ever abandoning this fic. I truthfully don't expect too many reviews or hits on this as I don't think 'Finding Sky' is a well known book. I, personally, love it to bits and wonder what I read before it. I can't wait until 'Seeking Crystal' is published. Xav will finally find his girl.

Still trying to figure out a name for my main character so updating will have to wait until then. But to leave you wondering, I give you about as much of the second chapter as I have written:

'The pain in my head was indescribable. So much so that I thought it would seriously spit in half. '

Until next time.