Unlucky 13
Summary: Four moves to Paradise, Ohio after he is caught on a camera with light coming from his leg. What happens when a Lorien con artist that just so happens to wind up in Paradise as well? Will this Lorien bring good or bad luck? Only time will tell. OCx?
Disclaimer: I do not own I am Number Four only my OCs
I know that there were only nine Loriens but in this story there will be a few more. I got this idea from TheHarryPotterDork's story Lucky Number 7 so the idea of an Unlucky 13 I got from that.
-13's POV-
It was early morning, not that it looked it. The sky was still dark and the stars were still out, though some had already faded with the slowly creeping sun hidden under the horizon. The air was chilly, fallen leaves danced in the wind. I'm glad I wore my coat this morning. The dead yellow grass crunched under my feet as I came to a stop.
My name is Catherine, or Cat preferably. I am not human. I look human, I talk human, and I walk human, but I am not human. I am a Lorien, number thirteen to be exact. I have also been known as unlucky thirteen, but I've never really felt entirely unlucky before. Other people seem to be unlucky around me, but not really myself…usually. Occasionally I do get a short spot of bad luck but I'm able to wiggle my way out of it somehow.
There were two shuttles that took Lorien children and their Cepans (guardians) away from the planet and the Mogadorian were wiping out the planet. The thing with Mogadorians is that when they wipe something out they don't stop until all are dead, no survivors. We Loriens were no different. Nine were on one shuttle, these were the chosen nine. The second shuttle held four others, myself included. The four were not chosen to go; they were smuggled on in secret. Something happened on the second shuttle. Instead of landing safely on Earth it crashed killing Eleven and Twelve as well as their Cepans.
We are not protected like the nine were. We are disconnected from them. Whatever happens to us won't affect the nine. If we were to die they couldn't feel or see it. I never cared much about that. They were the chosen, the heroes who were going to save our planet. I'm no hero; I don't think I'll ever be one. I'm a con artist. I make a profit on the stupidity and arrogance of others. Lying and acting are my strong points. One of my legacies is to curse or jinx things. I can make things become weak and fall, make machines malfunction, and computers go haywire (sometimes things even exploded). The other allows me to see every possible move I could make and every outcome. Both useful to a con like me. I like my life as a con. I go from city to city and town to town, staying for a few days then disappear like I was never there. I see the sights, I'm almost never low on cash, and every so often I get a challenge. The challenge is what I love more than the cash and the sights. To me there is nothing like a good challenging game.
I absentmindedly reached back to touch the blade I hid under my shirt, the trophy in an on going game between me and an unlikely player. I wonder when my opponent will come take back the blade. I snort, if he can. A passing car snaps me from my thoughts. I sand there in jeans, a gray shirt, a black jacket, and boots, my long black hair dancing like the leaves in the wind, and my dark blue eyes staring at a billboard.
"Welcome to Paradise, Ohio!" it said.
"Paradise huh?" I say to the night. "I wonder what luck brings me here."
Hopefully that was good for a prologue.
Please click the little blue button and tell me what you think. Thirteen dose not believe she is the hero type so I wonder how things will play out when see meets some of the nine.