Hey this is my first published story, so any mistakes you see please say. For it would be a great help, thanks and hope you enjoy. This is based on the first book, when everyone is attempting to figure out their place in the strange place of Morganville.
My story is based on the Rachel Caine books, it is all about a girl who gets bullied out of the college dorm and is now living with a ghost called Micheal and two other room mates Eve and Shane in the Glass House.
Chapter one
His lips were warm, as they were pressed against mine. My hand still frozen an the blood stinging cuts on his back. The cuts slowly bleeding that little bit more, as i felt him kiss my neck that once more. Peck by peck it felt nicer and nicer. Continued to go further down my front, i could still feel every cut on his back seeping throught he light breezed t-shirt which was slowly turning raw red. But...
Even as much as I would want to enjoy Shane slowly kissing my stomach, I could not!
All I could think, say even ask was HOW?
How was it physically possible to beat upon your own son even daughter, the pain that Frank Collins inflicted upon his own flesh and blood. Shane still in shock, shivering like he was in the north pole butt naked or something. for even a father how could he lay even a finger on their own children or just family in general. Frank Collins was a lean kind of man, but someone you wished not to get on the wrong side of. For it would be a deadly mistake, but more about him later.
What would his daughter say ...
What would Alyssa say ...
Even thou Claire kept trying to piece the whole situation together, it only questioned her mind once more. time passed and as Claire wiped the never ending blood with cotten afetr cotton, it bleed just once more. It felt like time had froze for they sounds around them just stopped making noise, it felt like they where in suspense. SUDDENLY ...
TICK TOCK, TIT TIT TIT TIT, RATTA TAP TAP ...
CLATTER, BANG, RATTA TAP TAP ...
It went silent, who could it be. Micheal and Eve where at the pictures, the only person who had a spare key was the landlord. But he was on holiday, and he would of rang before wouldn't he. Landlord Phillip was a tall dark haired man with hands like bear paws, and a posh style which made him strangely blend in in a weird but very true way.
RATTA TAP TAP, TICK TOCK TICK TOCK, SQUEAK ...
It sounded like sqeaky freshly poshed shoes, maybe it could be the landlord. Maybe ...
a shawdow loomed under the creak of the door , it was a fat sort of figure with what looked like a long shaped pointed object which shimmered in the landing hall light. the handle turned, and then suddenly ask quick as lightnening the knife came down ...