Hello! I've decided that YES, I will be rewriting Shadowy Rose, Dark Path! This is the new story, Someone Worth Saving. The basic premise is the same, but the plot will be more defined and pieces of information I forgot to include will be included this time around! If you enjoyed, please review!
Amity Park: A Nice Place to Live.
That was what the sign said, anyway, as I limped past the city limits into the Illinois civilization. The only reason I had even made it this far was due to the thunderstorm I was heading towards, the one that seemed to be brewing over the horizon of this place. The storm would be hitting in a few days, and I supposed that Amity Park was far enough from Wisconsin that I wouldn't be found so quickly. I thrust a pale hand into my deep pockets and pulled out a small red-and-black electrical chip. Snorting, I broke it over my thumb with my forefinger and my middle finger. I watched as the pieces sparked in the darkness of the evening light and caught on my dark turquoise shirt. My purple eye tracked the way the fragments of technology faded away into a mess of ectoplasm and disappeared.
Curling my lip, I limped farther into the city, sniffing at the air. Strangely enough, no one seemed to spare me a second glance. Usually, my dusky purple hair caught attention and whispers from punk teens and glares from old folk. But only a handful of people seemed startled by my sudden appearance, ragged and battle-and-travel-worn. Glancing around, I secluded myself in a small, dark alley away from people. Whistling in a high pitch, I listened for the telltale rumble of the motorcycle my adoptive father had given me for my 15th birthday. The black-and-yellow bike pulled up beside me, glowing faintly as it sped towards me. I hopped on and grinned like a feral animal as it revved underneath me.
I kicked it into gear and it purred, coasting out into the street and directing itself to my will. I leaned on the handlebars, the rhythmic glide of the wheels lulling me into a sense of confidence. A bright gleam of metal caught my eye and I pulled up next to a dark-skinned boy wearing , a red beret on his head. He was fiddling with a PDA, muttering about curfew. Even so, he didn't seem worried.
"Hey~ there," I purred, stifling a grin at the startled movements the boy made. "I couldn't help but overhear you; do you need a ride?" I was leaning on my hands as the motorcycle coasted alongside him.
The boy took in the sight of me, glanced at his PDA, and nodded enthusiastically. "Would you really? Oh man, thanks!" He hopped up behind me, wrapping his arms around my midsection and relaying his address. "You just got me out of a tight spot!"
"Oh, it's no trouble," I chuckled, letting the bike speed up. "By the way, screaming is against the rules, sorry~!" And then we were off, speeding down the road at a speed that forced me to hold onto the handlebars to keep the boy behind me from being thrown off. "Say, what's your name?"
"I'm Tucker Foley, that's T.F. for 'Too Fine'," Tucker answered, his voice smooth and almost smug.
"Really?" I mused aloud, amusement twisting its way into my words. "Well, aren't you a catch?" Okay, so I might have been flirting. But Tucker flirted first, which made it okay.
And now the boy was definitely smug. "I haven't seen you around before," he managed to say as we sped up, "are you new here? What's your name?"
"Indeed I am," I purred. "My name's Rose Forrest." The bike made a sharp turn and the boy's arms tightened around my stomach. Thankfully, breathing wasn't something I needed to do anyway. After a bit more small talk, during which I learned Tucker went to Casper High (where I would be attending in a week); had two best friends named Danny Fenton and Sam Manson; was a self-proclaimed carnivore; was only a month older than me; and flirted a lot, we finally coasted to a stop in front of his house, a 15 minute drive from where he last was.
"Thanks, Rose!" Tucker grinned, giving me a half-hug around my shoulders. I grinned back and waved, watching as he scrambled up the lawn and into the house. Leaving only when he was safely inside, I let the bike choose its own speed as I leaned back onto the handlebars, watching the night sky. A gibbous moon shimmered in the sky, and I made a soft sighing noise as I settled down to listen.
Wolves howled- or perhaps they were dogs- as I looked for an opportune spot. When the bike finally found one, its headlights flicked on. It came to a stop in front of a large rock, the point of which faced the moon. Getting off, I patted the bike and watched as it sped off into the night and disappeared. Allowing another grin to overtake my face, I allowed the rings to transform me into a ghost. All color drained out of my body; my skin was a greyish-white color, my hair a shining black; even my attire was in black-and-white. A grey camouflage shirt and thick, sturdy black jeans covered my body, and I felt my shirt shift as my tail made itself known. In fact, only my eye had any color- a bright, unearthly turquoise that glowed.
A ghostly werewolf, the Monochromatic Wolf; that was what I was called. Within me, I felt the werewolf's mind bubble up. Grinning widely, I leaped onto the rock and, taking a deep breath, howled at the moon. All around me, the canines in the area heard my call and joined me.