Chapter 1
Bang
[May 2008]
One Year Later
"Yes I understan-...no I do not own a business of my ow-...we're doing the best we ca-...I'm sorry, I'll have to put you on hold."
He pressed the hold button and placed the phone on the receiver. His fingers squeezed the bridge of his nose as he sighed. A coffee cup was stealthily placed in front of him. His nostril twitched at the familiar aroma. He looked up at the woman standing behind his desk.
"Thank you, Nora." he responded with pure relief before picked up the cup for a sip. Nora shook her head.
"You're tired enough, Robert. I don't know how you've been going on this long. Why don't you go home for a break?" she asked in concern.
From his seat, Robert Connelly shook his head and put the cup down before picking up a new folder. "No can do, love. I have fifteen more robberies in this pile and another ten 'mysterious attacks' before I can even consider leaving the building."
Nora shook her head. Detective Connelly had been a hard worker from the beginning, but ever since the string of robberies, attacks, and even murders started four months ago, he'd been in an endless rush. It was showing too, the bags under his eyes could hold all of the files on his desk right now. Well, lack of desk at the moment, it wasn't even visible anymore. She frowned at the empty packs of cigarettes in the trash can by her feet.
"You really should cut back."
"I will when I have the time." he responded, signing yet another blank on the paper. Nora shook her head and walked away. She cringed when she heard the phone ring again, and Robert slowly picked up the receiver.
"Grimsbury-Cherwell-Easington division of the Thames Valley Police."
Nora listened carefully as she placed another coffee cup on another officer's desk. He was quiet and she could hear the slight changes in tone over the receiver.
"What?" he asked suddenly and quite loudly, Nora jumped a little before turning around to watch.
Robert was staring intensely at his desk while listening to the caller. "Okay, give me the address." His hand lashed out as he grabbed a pen and scribbled on a piece of paper. There was suddenly more light in his face, like he just witnessed a sudden glimmer of hope.
"Okay, thank you very much." he said before putting the phone on the receiver again. He stood up and grabbed his pack of cigarettes, lighting a fresh one at the same time. Nora and several others perked up at the sudden life coming from the detective.
"What's the matter, Robert?"
He marched around the desk, puffing smoke into the already humid air. "We've got a witness saying that they saw some commotion at St. Mary's."
One of the men in the back scoffed. "Yeah, and why would that get you upright so fast?"
Robert turned to him, an essence of calm. "Because they saw a brand new computer in one of the tower windows."
They all exchanged a look. It was an old church with very old fashioned staff. It was very unlikely that they would suddenly up and buy a brand new computer. They turned back to Robert.
"So you think this might be it?" one of them asked. Robert shrugged, taking another drag on his cigarette.
"It might be, it might not. Whether it is or not, it's our duty to check it out."
With that said, the officers prepared to leave. Another phone rang out and a younger officer picked it up.
"Hello? Oh, yes, hold on." He put his hand on the phone and turned to Robert. "Uh, Robert, it's again."
Robert made his way to the door. "Tell her she might get her criminal in a few hours."
He opened the door and walked out.
St. Mary's Cathedral towered over the officers, it's front illuminated by the lights on the lawn. Robert grabbed his flash light and turned to his fellow officers.
"I'm going to go in first, you can follow after five minutes."
He pursued, not giving any time for them to argue. His long strides too him to the front door quickly. He fished into his pocket and pulled out the key he received from security. The door creaked slightly as he opened the door and entered. After closing the door his flashlight was on and ready. His shoes clicked on the floor, echoing through the vast room. He cursed to himself, hoping he wasn't alerting the intruders, and possibly culprits to this whole mess.
Robert's footfalls had become softer now that he adjusted his movements. The candles were misshapen, frozen drops of wax suspended form the tips. He walked down the aisle, searching every space between the benches. Satisfied, he turned to the front of the church were the giant stained glass window of Mary was holding the baby Christ. Robert was never one for religion, though her did believe in a higher power, but for a brief moment he found himself staring at the grand image.
Click click click
Robert froze and kicked his senses into overdrive. He tilted his head to the side, listening for the sound.
Click click click click
It was coming from the ceiling, therefore the second floor. He twirled around and carefully paced himself as he walked towards the stairs. They were long and narrow, and looked old too, but they were the only obstacle between himself and the wooden door at the top step. Robert placed his foot on the stair and added pressure. It creaked slightly, but not enough to draw too much attention. Gritting his teeth, the detective began his trek up the stairs. He was not going to stop, he had come too far now.
It was four months ago that the first robbery was reported. An entire electronics store robbed of its products. The same night there were three attacks around the same area. It went on like this in rapid succession every night for months, report after report. Hundreds of cases have been piling up and more blood was pooling. This case was taking his life from him. No longer could he visit the pub with his mates, or take the time to read his novels, and, most importantly, see his family. He was going to solve this case tonight, he was going to get his LIFE back tonight.
He heard shuffling up the stairs. His hand slowly reached for his gun.
Whether it ended in blood or not.
The stairs creaked under his weight, echoing slightly. The shuffling stopped abruptly.
He cocked his gun.
His hand reached for the door knob and turned it slowly, the weapon held securely. The door creaked as he slowly opened it, careful not to drop the flashlight while doing so. He stepped in, scanning the room with the flashlight.
Well, it was definitely the place. Hardware was piled up and scattered all over the place. Plastic and metal littered the floor, it crunched as he took another step. Computers were stripped into pieces, the corpses of cellphones spread out over the floor. There was another creak, Robert flipped the light to that direction.
A computer screen shined back at him, completely intact. Curious, he stepped forward, stepping on discarded music players and cellphones. Fixating the light on the computer screen, Robert inspected the desk. A contraption made out of the guts of probably fifty different machines was humming idly in front of him. Different colored lights shined all over the place, a rainbow of wires dangling through the crevices of the disheveled machine. He reached out and pressed one of the keys on the keyboard. The screen lit up, thousands of unfamiliar characters lit up on the screen. They rapidly flashed across the screen, bright red against a black backdrop. Robert blinked, the color disorienting him for a brief moment. He frowned, confused at the language on the screen. While he did work with computers, Robert wasn't very well versed. These glyphs could have been math symbols for all he knew. He turned his head left and right before turning back to the screen. Robert recalled that when leaving a computer idle for a while a screen saver would pop up. Maybe it was one of those and that there was information on his case. He lifted his hand and reached for the screen.
His hand flinched away when he heard something fall over. Drawing his gun in less than a second, Robert spun around and pointed the light at the source of the noise.
He was looking at what appeared to be a garbage bag hanging from the ceiling. It was swinging back and forth, which no doubt knocked over the remnants of a stereo. Most officers would have ignored this, figuring it was just the breeze, but Robert know that the windows were not open. His grey eyes narrowed at the bag as its swinging slowed to a stop. Now suspicious of the bag, he lifted his hand to the keyboard again, and clicked one of the keys.
A terrible screech filled the room and the bag suddenly unfolded and launched itself at Robert. Quick as lightning, Robert jumped to the side and the flying object collided into the wall. Robert drew his gun again and pointed the light at the now ruined computer screen. The "bag" lifted itself up and turned around to the light. Glowing red eyes glared at Robert and a mouth screeched at him. Its ears were large and pointed, and its arms were long and thin. No, they weren't arms, they were wings. This creature resembled a gigantic bat, a gigantic bat made out of metal apparently. Once again it flung itself at Robert, but he was prepared this time. His finger expertly squeezed instead of pulled the trigger, the gunshot echoing through the room and down to the church. There was the sound of penetration and the bat creature shrieked again. Robert was not quick enough to dodge the bat's blow. It carved a long gash down his arm. Robert sucked in breath through his teeth, but did not cry out. The bat made to advance again, but it faltered. From downstairs, Robert's team had heard the shot and were now in the church and charging up the stairs. The bat screeched again and flew to the window. Glass shattered and the creature flew into the night, the clouds preventing the moon from shining down on the creature.
In seconds seven officers were in the room pointing guns and flashlights. Through the commotion someone noticed Robert on the floor, bleeding from his arm.
"Connelly!" he yelled out.
Seven flashlights pointed at him, Robert lifted his other hand to shield his eyes. In no time at all Nora was at his side with a first aid kit. She set to work cleaning his wounds. Robert reached out to stop her, but she slapped his hand away without losing focus on his arm. The officers were inspecting the room, trying and failing to avoid stepping on the missing items. Nora was still cleaning his wounds, but was satisfied enough to start asking questions.
"What happened? Was it a knife?" she asked, concern thick in her voice. Robert shook his head, wincing slightly as she began to bandage his arm.
"No, it was...I don't know WHAT it was." he sighed.
Nora turned to the now shattered window. "Well, whatever it was, it was able to shatter a window."
At the mention of the window, the officers decided that the culprit may have jumped out the window in a desperate attempt to escape, and bolted out of the room. Robert smiled slightly, glad that the noise was gone. Nora patted him on the back.
"Okay now, get up. We need to take you to the hospital."
Robert gave her a look of surprise. "What! Why? You just bandaged me up, I'm fine."
Nora arched a dark eyebrow. "Just because you're clean and bandaged doesn't mean there isn't anything else wrong with you. Now come on, princess." she finished before helping him to his feet. Robert sighed again before following Nora to the stairs.
Ratbat worked his wing, attempting to get a better look at his injury. The fragging human made a clean shot at the flap, but not enough to prevent him from flying. It still hurt like slag though. He cursed to himself. He had been preparing his den for four quartexes! Now it was infiltrated by those filthy meatbags. They were probably gathering it all up as he sat on the roof to inspect his injuries.
Cursing again, Ratbat settled his wing to his side. He hated this town, this species, this planet. This entire situation was the fault of that idiot Frenzy. He and Ratbat were supposed to travel with Barricade together, but NO, of course it didn't work out that way. Frenzy just HAD to give him a different route to the planet. Now, because of Frenzy's mistake, Ratbat had arrived on planet later than he was intended and thousands of miles away from his proper destination on planet. Yes, he could fly, but not for very long distances. Not only that, but he had missed the battle with the Autobots and Megatron's defeat, Ratbat couldn't afford to have the Autobots discover his location and take him out. No, he had to wait, to plan. He needed to establish contact with his master, Soundwave. His own comm link was damaged a long time ago and he had no other means of communication. He couldn't even tell if any of his fellow Decepticons were still alive, let alone on planet. Unfortunately for him he was forced to use the primitive technology of this Pit forsaken planet.
After four quartexes of work he was nearly finished with the machine. It was a long process, stealing that technology, and hiding. He had been seen many times, but he couldn't afford witnesses. He attacked any human that saw him, even killed a few of them, but that was their own fault. If they had escaped fast enough, like a quite a few of them did, they would have escaped with only injuries. Ratbat knew he was being pursued, he'd be surprised if he wasn't, but he had avoided them for awhile. It was perfect, just a few more solar cycles and he would have made contact.
Then that human found him and touched his only means of escape from this backwater mud-ball. He knew that they would collect everything as evidence anyway, so he had no choice but to attack. And now he was here, brooding and nursing a damaged wing.
Ratbat cursed again. That filthy human male. It was at fault for his suffering. Now all his work was for nothing, nothing left to do but hide out and hope that Soundwave, or ANY Decepticon, would arrive. And it was all because of that one. Single. Human.
Revenge.
This was what he desired the most, revenge. Revenge for the pursuing, for the injury, and for taking away his only real means of survival. Ratbat growled and shook with rage. He would have, oh he would make sure of that if it was the last thing he'd do. He immediately set to work on the internet, searching through file after file to find the proper face. In a few minutes he was able to narrow it down.
Name: Robert Connelly
Date of Birth: 28 September, 1958
Birth Place: Lambeth, UK
Occupation: Detective of Grimsbury-Cherwell-Easington division of the Thames Valley Police, formerly Wing Commander of Royal Air Force
Ratbat skipped through until he found what he was looking for.
Home Address: 213 Hickory Drive, Cherwell, UK
Ratbat grinned to himself. Perfect, now he had his destination. It was time for his plan.
Robert Connelly would never have the satisfaction of solving this case. He took off into the night.
His destination was not very far off. The two story building stood erect and empty. Ratbat found a small window that he could possibly fit through and advanced. Using his wire thin fingers, he was slip under the window pane and unlock the window. It opened smoothly, and he entered. It was dark, but that wasn't the least bit of a concern for him. He found a corner and flew towards it. Using a hook on the ceiling, he hung himself upside down, ready to rest for a few mega cycles. His hearing was sensitive, so he knew that he would have no problem hearing any human approach. Ratbat powered down his optics before the rest of his systems slowly shut down.
It was time to wait.
Rain poured from the sky and into the street before her. Her boots sloshed in the street as she left the train station behind her. Her black umbrella shielded her from the moisture, the edges dripping into the soaked street. The grey sky hovered over the town as thunder rumbled in the distance. She lifted her leg and stepped back on to the sidewalk, her boots no longer sloshing. Her eyes glanced at the window to her right and she stopped. A sigh escaped her lips at her reflection.
Her red hair was all over the place, the humidity of the summer rain ruining the locks. Her mascara was slightly melting off of her face from her irritated eyes.
"Bloody contacts." she mumbled as she rubbed the tissue around her grey blue eyes. The red head shook her head and continued her trek home.
It wasn't a long walk, another five minutes or so, but in this humidity it was a hindrance. She had felt worse of course, but her mood wasn't the best either, and the weather wasn't helping. Her phone vibrated in her pocket. She groaned as she fished through her pocket. Once in her hand she glanced at the screen. It flashed "Dad". She flipped the phone open and placed it to her ear.
"Hey Dad."
"Rose! Are you okay? Did you have any trouble on the train?"
Rose rolled her eyes and answered. "No, everything was fine, as usual. Are you at the station?"
"No, no I'm not. Listen, I'm at the hospital right now."
She stopped abruptly, nearly tripping in the process. "What? What's wrong? Are you-"
Her father cut her off. "I'm fine, Rosie. I just had a little accident, a scrape on the arm, just a few stitches."
Rose proceeded in her walk. "How many stitches?"
"Just a few." he answered just a little too quickly.
"Dad..."
She narrowed her eyes as he sighed over the line. "Thirty-five."
"THIRTY-FIVE STITCHES! What the hell happened to you?"
"It was just an accident Rose. I fell last night and scratched my arm. It's fine, I'll live. Nora cleaned it up very well."
Rose nodded to herself at the name. Nora was kind and a good worker, she always treated everyone around her well unless they messed with her first. Rose's favorite part about Nora was that she never underestimated her. Nora had treated Rose as an adult ever since she was sixteen. While Rose knew she was just a child at that time now, she'd never forget how Nora would speak to her intelligently and with respect. She knew her dad liked her as well, and surprisingly that made Rose pleased. Her dad deserved to be happy, and she would support her father the entire way.
"Rose, I want you to lock all of the doors and don't let anyone in. I'll be home in about a few hours, I have to clear some paper work first."
She groaned again. "Dad, I'm not five, I'm eighteen. You know I'll keep the doors locked. I'm not a little girl anymore."
There was a slight pause before he answered. "I know Rosie, I know."
Rose's lips formed into a small smile. "I love you, Dad."
"I love you too, sweetheart."
She clicked the phone off and smiled as she finally reached her destination. The two story building towered before her, not imposing in the least. Rose opened and closed the gate as she entered her front yard. She fished her keys out of her pocket as she climbed up steps and stood on the doormat. She pulled out the key and unlocked the door, stepping into the dark house. Rose closed the door behind, locked it, and turned to face her home. She sucked in a deep breath and slowly exhaled, breathing in the familiar air. Rose loved her house, it had memories of an entire spectrum. She kicked off her wet boots and took off her hat before placing her bag on the ground. There was no coat on her person since it was summer. Her hand reached out and clicked on the light in a mechanical way, the movement being automatic to her. She was greeted with mahogany walls and beige furniture. The kitchen was cluttered, her father obviously not having the time to clean their home. Rose frowned slightly. Her room at Oxford was always clean, thankfully her roommate shared her tidiness. She sighed for yet another time.
"Tea sounds good." she said to herself, kicking the bag out of the way and traipsing toward the kitchen. Her hands practically moved on their own as she prepared the water and pulled out the tea bags. She had no problem with the shelves, she was exceptionally tall. It did bother her at times, being taller than several of her male friends, but it did have many advantages as well. Such as reaching for the tools needed for her addiction. The pot sat on the stove as she searched for some biscuits. Drawers opened and closed within seconds as she searched the kitchen.
Shuffle shuffle
Rose froze in her spot, her left hand hovering just two inches from the knife drawer. Her ears blocked out all noise from the rain.
Shuffle shuffle
Her hand stretched out farther to the drawer, her other hand on the counter. Her fingers curled around the handle of the drawer and she slowly pulled. The sound of something unfolding rang in the air and she immediately grabbed for the biggest knife in the drawer. Rose twirled around to face her oncoming attacker and froze.
A black mass flew at her in a blur. She barely ducked out of the way in time to dodge it. It crashed into the cabinet, plates flying off of the shelves. The tea pot whistled over the stove, but Rose paid no heed. Her long legs went to work as she darted for the door. She heard the glass break in the back as the thing jumped up and pursued her. Desperate, she grabbed her bag and swung around, just managing to catch the creature by the head. It screamed as the heavy bag crashed down on it. With the agility of an Olympian Rose darted for the back door. She could already hear the thing getting back up, so she had no hope going through the front door. The scream grew louder in seconds and she instinctively ducked. The creature cut her off and was floating in front of her. For a split second she saw blood red eyes glaring at her, flapping its wings as it advanced again. This time it went for her head, though could only manage to get her hair. Rose screamed as it pulled at her hair. She reached up and grabbed the beast. It was large, but not large enough to be hard to handle. Adrenaline coursed through her body as she charged for the wall and slammed the body into it. Rose could feel the smaller body collapse somewhat and heard the sickening crunch along with it. The creature screeched in agony.
Rose dropped the bundle of metal in her disorientation, her own head had taken the hit as well, but the writhing monster on the ground took the brunt of the collision. She was able to stumble away as the monster still screeched and began to move once more. Rose stumbled past the door and found herself at the stairwell. At this point she could have ran out the door, but the thing could pursue her. Worse, it may harm others in the process. She had no choice but to charge up the stairs, her balance returning to her. She started towards the door of her room but stopped and faced her father's room.
Her brain went into overtime as she threw the door open and slammed it shut behind her. Rose's hands moved quickly as she locked the door and advanced to the closet. She pushed the hanging shirts out of the way and found what she was looking for. A long black case was lying on the small shelf hidden behind the clothing. Rose grabbed it and pulled it out. Her hands worked quickly as she worked the combination on the lock. It was her birthday, November 18th. Her father had told her a few years ago, just in case if anything happened. Never had she thought she would need it.
The locks clicked as she set the numbers, 1811, and the latches clicked open. She opened the case and marveled at the weapon before her. The Winchester lied before her, the would gleaming in the light from the closet. Rose stared, amazed at the size of the weapon.
CRASH
Her hands flew into the case and she pulled out the weapon and opened the case of ammunition. She loaded the casings into the chamber, the crashing growing louder and the screeching more terrifying. She clicked everything into place just as the door rattled. Screeching tore through the air, giving Rose another headache.
THUD THUD THUD
The monster was trying to get the door open, but luckily for Rose the doors were very thick and heavy. She clicked the safety off and put pulled the gun, clicking the bullets into the chamber. Rose took several deep breaths as she aimed the gun at the door, remembering all of the practice she had a few years ago. It had been awhile, but muscle memory allowed her to settle the gun in place and place her feet just right. She waited as the creature continued to try and force the door open.
THUD THUD THU-CRACK
Rose winced as the door cracked, but she composed herself once more. She bit her lip, remembering how loud a shotgun was, and it would be worse inside a room. Maybe she had some time to grab the earplugs?
CRACK CRACK
Nope, apparently not. She stayed steady as the cracks grew deeper. She could have just shot it off now, but she didn't want to risk anything, plus the monster would have a warning. This was a surprise that she could not afford to spoil.
And finally the moment of truth. The door cracked again, a screech, and the door broke open, red eyes burning with rage.
She reacted in less than a second. Her finger squeezed the trigger, the buckshot flying out and a huge flash of light.
BANG
Her ears went numb and all she could hear was ringing. She watched as the hole in the door blew up, splinters flying though the air, and the creature jerked back, its eyes wide in shock. Rose stood stock still as the monster disappeared behind the door. Her arms shook, the shot gun will firmly in her grasp. The monster could still be alive, and she wasn't going to risk her only defense.
Rose held her breath, attempting to hold back the sob forming in her throat.
"Thirty-five."
Robert flinched and held the cellular phone back as his daughter screamed at him over the line. Nora chuckled next to him, ignoring the look Robert sent her way.
"It was just an accident Rose. I fell last night and scratched my arm. It's fine, I'll live. Nora cleaned it up very well."
He smiled at Nora, who waved it off. She was trained in first aid, it was part of her job. She often had to make sure that Robert wouldn't kill himself over work. His face was pale and the wrinkles were becoming more prominent. Though he was in his fifties, he was going to age faster if he kept this up.
Nora watched Robert's face change as he warned his daughter to lock up the house, as if she was coming home from grade school. She sympathized for him. Even before the divorce Rose was always his top priority, and now she was more important than ever. Robert and Helen were still on good terms, of course, but he still felt lonely without her. Rose was his one true life line to this world.
Robert's eyes changed slightly when he said goodbye and hung up the phone. Another sigh escaped his lips. His daughter was growing up, and he had to deal with it.
"She'll always be your daughter, no matter how old she gets." Nora reassured him. Robert smiled.
"Yes, but she doesn't think she's my little girl anymore."
Nora shrugged and placed her hand on his shoulder. "It will be fine. Rose is a fine young woman, she'll sort everything out."
The nurse walked back in, checking his arm once more. She nodded. "Your arm is fine, you can leave now."
Robert and Nora thanked her before she left. He grimaced at the thought of all that paper work waiting for him on his desk.
"All right, lets get this over with."
The station was bustling about as forensics gathered the evidence. Phones were ringing all over the place and papers were stacked high, the highest of course being on his own desk. Robert reluctantly sat down and set to work, filling in the blanks and writing his experience. Nora cleared files and answered phone call after phone call. This went on without a problem. The only conversation was about the case and discoveries. Robert blocked out all noise and focused on his work, until his name was called out by one of the other deputies.
"Detective Connelly! It's again! She sai-"
Robert growled under his breath. "Tell her that we're going through evid-"
"It's not about the case! It's your house!"
Robert froze and looked up, his heart going cold.
"What?"
The deputy's face was etched with worry. "Your house, said she heard a lot of noise. She heard screaming, sir."
Rose.
Robert flew out of his chair, papers flying. Nora was frozen, her arm stretched out while grabbing another file.
"I have to go, I'm sorry." he stated and bolted out the door. Nora watched, knowing that she couldn't follow.
Robert jumped into his car and pulled out with a screech. His foot slammed on the gas, ignoring the traffic around him. He only had one thing in mind, and that was his daughter. He cursed when he saw the traffic up ahead. His problem was solved when he fished out his police siren and attacked it to the top of his car. Traffic immediately cleared for him and he flew down the street. How he was able to control the car while on wet asphalt was either a miracle or a break in the laws of physics. Nevertheless, Robert pulled into his house in less than five minutes.
He saw a few pedestrians staring at his house and several more onlookers in the windows of their houses. From across the street he could see , phone permanently glued to her hand, staring out from her window. Robert could make out bits of conversation as he climbed out of his car and grabbed for his gun. Screaming and crashing were apparently the only things major, some screeching too. He pushed past the onlookers as he opened the gate.
BANG
Robert's heart froze and the civilians slammed their hands against their ears. The blast echoed for a few more seconds before silence took over. Robert saw the flash in the window on the top floor.
Rose!
He was young again, his body streaking across the yard and into the house in no time at all. Robert barely registered his ruined living room and kitchen, but he did note the hole in the wall. He heard another strange sound from up the stairs, like a weak cry.
Robert trampled up the stairs, not caring if the intruders heard him or not. He would kill them before they could even pull the trigger. When Robert reached the top of the stairs he froze at the sight.
Before him was a tangled mess of what appeared to be oil, metal, and splinters of wood. Pieces of black metal laid across the floor and some even stuck to the walls like shrapnel. Oil was leaking out of the bundle before him. Robert gasped as he recognized the long wing shapes. It was the thing that attacked him the previous night. It had somehow tracked down his house and broke in. Had it been after him? Why?
Robert looked up, his eyes widening and his heart leaping in joy. There stood Rose, frozen in shock and holding his Winchester in her hands. She had some blood trickling down her head, her hair was all over the place, and her makeup was smeared from tears. But other than that, she was fine. Robert stepped over the carcass and held his arms out. Rose finally registered her father before her.
"...Dad?"
He nodded, tears leaking out of his own eyes. Rose's arms shook and she dropped the weapon to the ground. She flew into her father's embrace, sobbing in his neck, since there was only three inches between them. Robert hugged her back twice as hard, sobbing as well. He wanted to ask his daughter what had happened, but she was too preoccupied with smearing makeup on his shirt at the moment. He didn't care, his daughter was alive and safe.
Robert looked down at the dead creature before him and narrowed his eyes. He had no idea what the hell this thing was, but he hoped to God that he, and especially Rose, would never have to deal with anything like it ever again.
But for the Connellys, this was just the beginning.
This begins the rewrite of "The Time of Our Lives" and, most importantly, "Our Intertwining Destinies" itself. I apologize to those who liked the first story, but trust me, this one is much better. The formatting is copied from Bells of Eden and the Connellys belong to her.
I hope you enjoy the rewrite after so long. See you in the second chapter.