First story! YAY! I, like whoever is reading this, don't know how this story is going to flow, so I'll just wing it, and I apologize in advance for grammar mistakes since I'll be self editing this. Warning! I have a twist in store for you guys. I own nothing! Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling.
I barely was able to get out of the way of whatever was flying towards my face. CRASH! I instinctively put my arms over my head as sharp objects fall and cut my arms. When I look closer at the blood blood stained shards, I immediately recognized the clay butterfly I made for my mother in my ceramics class.
"That's it! I'm sick and tired of your attitude you ungrateful child!" she screeches. Tears should have stung my eyes, but I was used to this. After fifteen years, who wouldn't? She kept on ranting now how I could get a B in my progress report. How I'll never amount to anything. How I'll die as a homeless person, and how she'll watch to laugh at me. I usually just sit there and listen to her, but today I left the house, angry. It was pleasant outside, chilly and sunny. I shoved my hands into the pockets of my sweater and walked until stars engulfed the sky. As I slowly walk back "home," I smelled smoke. I looked around for the source to fine purple flames in the direction of the hated house. Normal people would run away when they saw fire, especially purple fire, but I ran towards it, hoping that what I think is happening isn't happening. I couldn't believe what I saw. The strange flames were not burning down the house. It went through it as if it was nothing but air. I stood there confused. If it isn't burning the house then what is it- my eyes widen in pure horror when I identified the smell of the smoke. Burning meat. I desperately prayed to whatever mighty force out there to prove me wrong as I force myself to walk through the front door. That's when I heard a sickening voice.
"Hahahahahahahaha! How does it feel? Is it marvelous to have your soul ripped to shreds? Hahahahahahahaha!" A person, no, monster thing that looked pretty human was in the middle of the living room. He, I think, was at least ten feet tall with beige colored hair, bulging muscles, jeans, a button up shirt, pale skin, pointed ears, a tail?, fangs, and cold purple eyes. I quickly scan the room. There wasn't any furniture. Only find three mounds burning into nothingness, not a single ash, and my mother slumped against the wall, whimpering. (Are those? No, it can't be.) Fear finally reached me and I glared at the monster who killed my sisters and father. He hasn't noticed me. He's still taunting her. Anger replaces my fear as I bravely, or foolishly, make my way towards my mother and stand protectively in front of her.
"Oh? The guest of honor had finally arrived. You look exactly like your mother. Fuckable," he sneers. I glare at him, willing myself to keep my ground. He lets out a throaty laugh.
"Woah! Kid, you really have an intense glare there." He crouches and we're face to face when he says, "I wouldn't expect any less from my child." I froze. (What did he say? Child? His? I I can't be!) No matter how I denied it, it made a lot of sense. After all, we have- There was a bone chilling scream.
"DIE!" Flames immediately covered my body, and the hated word was replaced with a scream filled with pure pain. I flinched, but soon discovered that it didn't hurt, there was no heat at all. I turned around to check on my mother, and that's when the flames disappeared. Like the odd purple flames, she was gone too. (No. They can't be gone. I don't want to be in an orphanage when this is over. Who am I kidding? I'll probably die with them.) I sink down to my knees, ready to receive my death. I hear footsteps come closer. (Goodbye cruel cruel world.) I sarcastically think.
"She was going to kill you. I can't have my Kitten getting hurt," he says far too close for comfort. (Wait, so that was her I heard?) Familiar old pain tugs at my heart, but I ignore it as usual. When he doesn't hear me answer, I hear him sigh.
"This is going to hurt so bear with it." He places one of his huge hands on top of me before I could say anything. Unimaginable pain shoot through me and grows to the point where my vision goes hazy. I collapse on the floor and he watches me with calculating yet curious eyes. I grit my teeth and slowly force myself to get up. As soon as I was able to get my feet underneath me, the pain stopped.
"Interesting. Usually people would be screaming their lungs out," he says like a snotty know it all. I glare at him, but freeze when I feel something pressed against my head. (What the? He's nowhere near me…) I hesitantly raise my hands up to touch my head to find two unfamiliar object's there. Apparently I lost all of my courage since I felt fear taking control again. It only grew when I felt something wrap around my leg. I timidly look down. Two black furry tails were tightly wounded around my leg before I forced them apart. I touch the base of my back to come in contact with the sensitive appendage. I resisted the urge to flinch and the thing in front of me laughs from my reaction.
"Don't worry Kitten, you'll get used to them," he says with a smirk. (Them? Kitten?) The pressure on my head disappears when I put two and two together. I quickly make my way towards a mirror. When I get to one, bathroom, I stood there in shock. (No way. I have ears?!) Other than my normal ears, I had two cat ears that matched my tails. (This is sort of cool, but I need to deal with whatever that thing.) Voices from the living room, both male, caught my attention. I creep a little closer to the door and eased dropped on their conversation.
"Master I have finished packing all of her belongings," an unfamiliar voice says.
"Good, good, but is all this really necessary Zain? I mean do we really need to bring an oversized stuffed hippo? My Kitten could always buy a new one," says the murderer.
"Master, I am not one to order you around, but I only packed the things that strongly had her scent. I'm assuming she associates with these objects on a daily basis, meaning that she has a strong attachment to these items. You have told told me you wanted your daughter to be comfortable when we take her to her new home, so I personally think that these things with help her feel more at ease. Of course you have the say in whether or not we leave them behind."
"Hmmm, I guess you're right, but I warn you now Zain, if you fail in supporting my Kitten I'll execute you." I couldn't take it anymore. Questions were burning my tongue, so I mustered what was left of my bravery and confronted them.
"Where are you taking me? What do mean daughter? What the heck am I? What the heck are you? Why-" I was cut short when the purple eyed man put his hand on me and images start popping in to my head. It didn't hurt as much as the first time he touched me, but I could feel my conscious start to slip away. My legs eventually buckle and I was caught by my father. Just like that, I knew he was my father and his purpose here, my purpose. After all, we do have same eyes.
Yay! The prologue is done! Sorry if it's really short. This probably makes no sense whatsoever, but just hush and read the next chapter. Oh! Please R&R I'll like feedback.