Thank you single person who reviewed! Here is chapter 2! Read, enjoy and please review! Please?!
Crimson's POV
Their Mom came back in the earliest hours of the following morning. Crimson was the only one awake, (Ciera had fallen asleep next to her) and was also the one so subtly shift her body so Ciera's silhouette was less visible.
Thankfully, her Mom seemed to be more interested in sleeping than beating up the petrified kid on the couch holding a kitchen knife, and staggered off into the bedroom.
Crimson relaxed, stuffing the kitchen knife back down the back of the sofa and biting her bottom lip. She had been doing this for the past six hours, resulting in her bottom lip being transformed into a bloody mess and causing it to sting painfully every time she touched it. Crimson was thinking about how to get out of their predicament. Ciera was right about there being no money, or relatives. No-one would take in a pair of ragamuffins that turned up randomly on the doorstep, especially ones who would throw knives and liked guns. (Crimson had been banned from every police station in New York after that little incident)
There was also the fact, that whenever Crimson went outside, she felt as if she was being watched. As if a higher power was sitting up there in the clouds and scrutinizing her like a bug under the microscope. It was weird. It was also frightening.
But then again, so was living here.
Crimson sighed and rolled up her sleeve to peer at the watch underneath it, the luminous glow lighting up her face. 7:30. Mom would be up at 8:00, with a hangover and a raging temper expecting waffles and aspirin. After the most recent debacle, resulting in a shattered coffee table and an emotionally and physically drained sister, Crimson didn't feel like obliging to her requests.
She bent over her sister, feeling a momentary pang that she just couldn't leave her in dreamland, where everything was sparkly and there were no demons or witches to spoil tour day and whispered in her ear.
'Ciera? Come on, it's time to get up.'
Ciera turned over murmuring something about how she didn't want to 'worship the milky bar kid, I don't even like chocolate'
'WHAT!' yelped Crimson and Ciera jumped so hard she rolled right off the sofa.
'What the hell Crim? I was sleeping!' Ciera glared at her sister, or rather, she tried to, but her eyes were still heavy from sleep so far from looking threatening, she looked like a dog who wanted the sausage you were eating. Crimson was standing, mouth agape and pointing an accusing finger!
'You said you didn't like chocolate!'
Ciera sat and stared, completely non-plussed. 'Crim,' she said slowly, moving her mouth more than should be possible for pronouncing a single word. 'I don't like chocolate! It's horrible! Ever since we went completely over the top that one time, and I was up for the rest of the night emptying the contents of my stomach into the toilet bowl!'
Crimson's face had adorned a look of wistful recollection. 'Ohhh yeah,' she said vaguely, before snapping shortly,
'This conversation is completely irrelevant to the subject at hand. Get your schoolbag, brush your teeth and get some clothes on, we're going to be late!'
'What's wrong with what I'm wearing?' Ciera cried indignantly, propping herself up on one elbow.
From where she was stuffing a box of sandwiches into a small rucksack, Crimson raised a single eye-brow.
'Have you looked at you clothes yet?' she asked, knowingly.
Ciera looked down and Crimson saw the look of horror at the sight of her favourite t-shirt, covered in dust and grime from rolling on the floor, as well as dry blood, brown now, instead of an alarming shade of berry red. Her jeans were also ripped and bloodied, and both items were creased from the night's kip on the less than spacious couch.
'I'll go get changed' she announced quietly and slunk of into the tiny closet of a room the two shared.
They were almost at the school when it suddenly hit Crimson that, for the first time in their lives, they were actually early for school. She immediately wanted to know why. When Crimson explained, Ciera immediately went off on one of her 'rants'. These were when she would talk non-stop for an extended period of time, the longest one on record, being forty-five minutes.
Crimson rolled her eyes and tuned out, only tuning back in, when they reached the school gates ten minutes later, and hearing only, 'You're crazy'
'Well it has been said' she replied disinterestedly, looking over her shoulder. Where was she? It had been a whole thirty seconds since she had stepped onto the rough gravel of the playground and there was no sign of her nemesis's ugly face.
'You're so frustrating!' her sister hissed, crossing her arms childishly.
'Glad I'm doing the whole big sister thing properly then' Crimson said, now craning her neck to see over the swarming crowds, and missing the outraged cry of, 'We're TWINS!' as she spotted exactly who she was looking for.
Tyline Oakwood. Ever since the days in the sand pit, Tyline had it out for them, especially Crimson, giving her a concussion with one of the plastic buckets they had been using to build sandcastles. From then on, they had a rivalry, where insults were exchanged and fights fought out. Except, unfortunately for Tyline, Crimson had been raised by the ultimate trainer in 'How to not let insults get to you.'
So until Tyline had snarled something about how their father left them because she was a little brat who scared little children, she got no reaction. Unfortunately for Tyline, Crimson's reaction to this was to shake away Ciera's restraining hands and head-butt her in the stomach, (she would have gone for the face but sadly, she was too small and Tyline was too tall)
Tyline was the almost exact replica of a 90210 bully, except, she wasn't Californian, she wasn't pretty and she definitely wasn't slim. All her friends were brought, not one girl was sincere in their compliments or their worship. It made Crimson glad that she didn't have any friends. Who would want to spend all day talking about make-up and clothes? Ew.
'Well look who it is' Crimson announced, striding up to Tyline and her pack of jackals. 'It's the wicked witch of the west! And her tribe of flying monkeys! Ciera my good minion, man the battlements! Grab the guns! Arm yourselves!'
Ciera, who had by now forgotten their argument completely, (She was funny like that) and was now skipping around in circles screaming, 'Water, water! She must be killed'
With every word, Tyline became a darker shade of purple and by now she was the colour of plums, which was slightly worrying to behold.
'Where's your Mum, ugly?' she snapped, and Crimson was instantly on her guard. 'Too busy being banged up by another gangster? Are you going to have a little bastard brother on the way?'
Crimson's vision became tinted with rage. She was vaugly aware of someone yelling, 'FIGHT, FIGHT, FIGHT' and another voice screaming, 'Crimson, NO!' but when the haze dissipated and the anger lifted, she found herself sitting in her Geography classroom, with the teacher, Miss Toppy, staring at her disapprovingly.
Miss Toppy was one of those teachers who seemed to think that if you didn't pay school fees out of your own money and not from benefits, you were unworthy to sit on the same toilet as other children. She herself had dyed blond hair in a perm, wore clothes that simply amplified the fat rolling off her and when she leant over, her skirt was so short, you could see part of her thong.
Now she was babbling on about something to do with erosion and the sea, but Crimson couldn't care less. In the cheap green jotter in front of her she scribbled a note to Ciera.
How did I get here?
She scribbled one back, glancing up to check that they weren't being watched.
I dragged you in. You looked ready to kill Tyline. You were glowing and everything.
Immediately, Crimson was worried. Had someone seen. She was never usually that obvious. It was normally a slightly higher temperature, her power was the healing aspect.
She scribbled back with haste.
Did anyone see?
They didn't seem to no. It was really funny-
It was at that point, the door burst open and the devil stood in the doorway. Elizibeth Carter was wearing a pair of ankle boots, tiny denim shorts and a very strappy vest top.
She looked at the twins with murder flaring in her eyes and smiled sweetly at the teacher.
'Excuse' she said, in a a tone that positively dripped poisoned honey, 'I wonder if I could take my girls out of your class? Because they have an appointment you know, at the doctor's? And I really don't want to be late'
Miss Toppy looked at the woman, in a way that plainly said she thought she was a tart.
'Of course' she said in a way that was very insincere. 'Is anything serious?' she asked, in a much too hopeful voice.
'Oh no' Elizabeth replied, her facial expression telling how she hoped that it would be something like the plague. 'Just a check-up. Come along girls'
They didn't move.
'Now' It wasn't shouted, but had an icy quality that froze the hearts of everyone in the room, making breathe in sharply as it touched them.
Immediately, the girls took up their bags and followed them out of the room, with the kind of air that a man sentenced to death adopts, when walking out to the chopping block.
As soon as they were outside, their arms were gripped in a grip of steel and she walked faster, unaware or uncaring of the way she twisted their wrists painfully as she went.
'Mum. . .'
'Shut up'
'But Mum-' a hand shot out and struck Ciera on the cheek, the rings adorning her finger, (that were surely not brought) leaving long, deep gouges in the soft flesh.
'I said, shut the hell up!' she said, quietly, her voice a deadly whisper. 'I woke up with the mother of all hangovers with no aspirin and no coffee. I am this close. . .' she held two, sparkly, manicured nails about half a millilitre apart, 'To throwing you off the apartment balcony! As it is. . .' Her voice trailed off, her eyes going from angry to demonic, her red smeared lips turning upwards in a grin that couldn't bear well and when she spoke again, she spoke to herself, muttering so fast and furious, neither Crimson nor Ciera could hope to understand her.
'You left me with them, you did, and left me. All alone, oh, so alone. No help, no money, abandoned, all alone. So alone No more, they're yours, nothing but trouble, freaks, dangerous. You want them? You save them, I owe them nothing'
The little of this they did catch did absolutely nothing to calm them down and Crimson had an extremely bad feeling about this. Her heart was pumping like crazy; she could see and hear everything. Her senses were on overdrive, she could smell her mother's perspiration and the smell of drink surrounding her like a cloak.
It was in an alley when they saw it. A car. And the trunk was open. That was when Crimson went berserk. She kicked and yelled for help, satisfied when she felt nose cartilage break under her fist and withdrew it to see blood. But, fuelled by whatever insane power she had, Elizabeth overcame them. Before she knew what had happened, Crimson was in the trunk, facing the pale blue sky, her sister being slammed down next to her and then, there was nothing but darkness.
Never ending darkness; pitch black with not the slightest chink of daylight making its way through the cracks. It was so quiet, the only noise being her sister's slow breathing, (She must've been knocked out) and the pounding of Crimson's own heart pounding in her ears. Slowly, Crimson tried to control herself, banishing the thoughts and memories that threatened to overwhelm her, to the back of her mind where they belonged. Crimson didn't want to remember the small, beaten child sealed inside a cardboard box for getting lost in the shopping centre. Crimson also didn't want to remember that with every dust filled breath she took, the closer she got to suffocation.
What felt like days, but was probably mere hours went by. Crimson would have liked to say she remained calm and collected in the duration of it, but the truth is, once of twice she cracked. She went into a fear fuelled frenzy, screaming and sobbing and banging hopelessly on the roof of the metal coffin. As the Los Angeles sun came out and dazzled the world, the trunk became hotter and hotter. If this went on, Crimson thought, dazed, she would die of dehydration before she ran out of air.
As time went on, the smell of sweat permeated the air, and that very same air was becoming very difficult to inhale. Crimson was merely wheezing now, she was so tired; she wanted to go to sleep so badly. . .
Suddenly, the blackness was gone. The sky had returned. The air was so longer stale. Someone was pulling her upright and out of the boot, trickling water down her throat. It was cool and refreshing and Crimson found the top of the bottle and sucked it down greedily.
'Careful there!' came a voice. It was a nice voice. Crimson decided she like it. 'Don't drink it all at once! You'll be. . .'
Crimson bent over, and threw up, right over a pair of combat boots and into the drain.
'Sick' finished the voice. Crimson was now feeling rather irritated with the voice. It wasn't her fault she had been sick. Her phyco mother had chucked her in the trunk of a car where she had nearly died from asphyxiation. She looked up, fully intending to tell the owner of 'the voice' this, but the words died in her throat.
The girl crouching in front of Crimson, was one of the most beautiful people she had ever seen. She reminded Crimson of a fairy, or an elf. Her skin was very white, her features small, delicate and perfect. She was tall, wiry, and athletic looking.
However, some aspects completely ruined the airy fairy image she had, turning it to that of a rebel, or outlaw.
One sleeve of the girl's camouflage jacket was ripped, a filthy, blood-stained bandage showing underneath, a huge bruise was blossoming over one white cheek as well as several small scratches and a whole lot of dirt.
There was also the sword scabbard at her waist, the hilt of which was carved into the head of a dragon and the gun holster strapped to one thigh, which looked incredibly real.
Her eyes too, seemed to scream 'danger', so dark they were almost black and filled with pain and sorrow and seemed to be haunted by a thousand ghosts.
'Come on' she said again, a note of urgency now tangible in her voice, tugging on Crimson's wrist. 'They'll be back soon, come on!'
Crimson resisted, trying to retreat back against the back wall, but the stranger was a lot stronger than she looked and her grip stayed firm so instead, she settled for leaning right back, putting all her weight on it.
'Who's coming back?' she asked, suspiciously, refusing to trust this stranger with two deadly weapons, 'Who are you?'
The girl ignored that last question and instead answered the first, but not without an exasperated sigh, rolling her eyes and murmuring a few choice words under her breath in what sounded like a different language.
'The people who got put you in that boot wanted to stay there for a reason' she said, speaking very fast and very quietly, 'And when they come back, because they will and soon, they will want to finish what they started, which means we have to move. . .' Then, she froze, and slowly turned her head and had her sword out so fast; Crimson didn't even see her get it out. One minute it was in the scabbard and the next it was in the girl's hand, pointing at the two silhouettes that had suddenly speared at the end of the alley.
One of them stepped forward, and spoke in a deep, booming voice that reverberated and echoed of the small, enclosed space of the alley.
'Greetings Demi-gods! My brothers and I have tracked you over many miles! You have evaded us thus far, but now, daughters of the gods, we are hungry, and you shall be lunch!'
As the terrified spectators watched on, the men, who were already rather large, began to grow, upwards and outwards. Before long they were over six metres high, with muscles that had ripped through their clothing leaving only tatters behind. Seemingly out of nowhere, they pulled out a huge, metal canister.
Crimson's eyes widened. She had seen those before, on many of the late night films she had seen to pass the time. But those were movie props, this was the real thing. And it was aimed right at her.
'MOVE!'
So fascinated had she been with the weapon, Crimson had failed to notice the huge, ugly monster had pulled the trigger. The stranger had barrelled her to the floor as an unknown, deadly object passed over their heads and Crimson could smell burning hair.
Almost at once, the girl jumped back to her feet, muttering furiously under her breath, 'Oh, brilliant! As if the flaming cannon balls weren't enough, they've upgraded! Damnit!'
Ducking another stream of blue flame from what appeared to be a super flamethrower, monster sized, the girl plunged her sword into the monster's belly. Or tried to, because as big as they were, they were also fast.
This one in question, had dodged the blade and swiped her sword out from her hand, and was about to brain her with a fist the size of a turkey when she back flipped onto his shoulders and drove a bronze knife that had apparently been up her sleeve, right through the back of his neck and through to the front. With a pained cry, he dissolved into dust!
The remaining big ugly bellowed in rage.
'You shall pay for his death' he roared, lunging forward. Crimson was confused and scared, and by now she had had enough.
'What the hell are they?!' she shrieked, from behind the dumpster where she had crawled when she had been tackled to the ground.
The girl, who had just somersaulted out of the flight path of a fiery missile, (which promptly whizzed past her and blew what remained of the car into smithereens) turned and looked at her incredulously.
'You mean you can see them!' she yelled, over the noise of the loud KABOOM the exploding car created.
'Well they're bloody hard to miss aren't they!? ' She shouted back, 'and, -LOOK OUT!'
Too late. Caught of her guard, the monster had swiped the girl's feet out from beneath her and he stood over her, proclaiming his victory.
'You were foolish, demi-god' he thundered 'You stood no hope of defeating me! I have not been bested in two millennia! The greatest of heroes have cowered before me! Now I shall-'
BANG!
Crimson's hands jumped to her ears, and she felt the searing heat as the monster ignited, disappearing in a tongue of flame. When it died down, there was only ashes, spreading slightly in the breeze. And standing behind them, missing her eye-brows and holding the sword, was Ciera, who had apparently come round a short while earlier, and, noticing the somewhat unusual and rather dangerous situation they were in, had proceeded to creep around them without either of them noticing, picking up the discarded sword of the way and running the unknown monster through with it.
There was a stunned silence. Crimson became aware that her mouth was wide open, and quickly snapped it shut, hoping that no-one had seen.
The girl slowly clamoured to her feet again, favouring her left foot, Crimson noticed, and not her right. The girl limped forward, nudging the still slowing ashes with one foot. 'Weird' she said quietly, frowning slightly and looking puzzled. 'Really weird'
Ciera had found her tongue again. It was a pity, Crimson mused silently, that not even oxygen deprivation could stem her sister's unending babble.
'Weird?!' she screeched, at a rather alarming volume. 'Weird? What exactly, is weird? I pass out in the near airless trunk of a criminals car where I was locked in and left to die by my loopy mother? Or is it the fact I woke up to find so mentioned car on fire and myself sitting in the gutter in a pool of my own vomit? Or was it the huge dinosaur/human hybrid with a great big flamethrower deluxe? Or maybe it was whacko girl with a sword doing some fancy fighting and gymnastics with my sister sitting behind a dumpster and screaming bloody murder!'
Ciera had apparently run out of breath to do much more yelling, instead, leaning against the wall and thankfully lowering the sword, (which had been waved about rather energetically to make her point) panting.
'Actually,' the girl said slowly, 'It's neither of those points. What's strange is the fact that they exploded. They've never done that before' She shrugged.
'Must've been the silver. Now come on! Laestrygonians rarely come in pairs, there'll be more, and in greater numbers.' The girl looked up nervously at the rapidly darkening sky.
'It's full moon tonight' she added, her eyes still heavenward.
'Why does that matter?' said Crimson irritably. She was now officially in a bad mood. She had been locked in a trunk, rugby tackled, shoved behind a dumpster (which ponged to high heaven) and her hair had been rather badly singed. And all in the past fifteen minutes. Whilst she was on the subject of that. . .
'What did he mean, 'demi-gods' ' she asked, jerking her head at the smouldering ashes, looking curious.
The girl stared at her as if she was rather stupid.
'Oh dear' she sighed, exhaling heavily. 'Look, we're in Los Angeles, the city where werewolves dwell. Some of them are rabid, some try to separate themselves from ordinary people, but all of them are deadly and none will show mercy. Why do you think I have a silver sword?'
Looking at it now, Crimson could indeed see that one half of the long, elegant blade shone sliver, whilst the other, gave off burnished bronze shine.
'If we go with you,' Ciera began slowly, 'Where will you take us'
The girl's eyes became sad. 'If you come with me, I can get you somewhere where no monsters will get you, where you can control your gifts, meet others like you. Where you can be given a home.'
The twins gazed at her wistfully. To have something even close to a home would be too good to be true, and none wanted to have another run in with those monsters again.
However. . .
'Mum will find us' Crimson said miserably. 'She always does'
The girl smiled. It was a strange smile. It was like she hadn't done it for a long time, and had almost forgotten.
'Your mother is included in the whole protection scheme, girls. These people will protect you, you'll never have to see your mum again if you don't want to.'
Ciera looked confused. 'But she's not a monster'
The girl smiled again, this time sadly. Crimson noted that this one came a whole lot more easily.
'You don't have to be big and ugly to be a monster honey. Now, let's go'
She turned and made toward the alley exit.
'Wait!' Crimson cried, grabbing her by the trouser leg.
'oh, what now?'
'You still haven't told us your name yet! Or what demi-gods are!'
The girl raised her eye-brows and asked impatiently, 'If I tell you my name, will you come with me somewhere safe where I can answer all,' she looked pointedly at Ciera, (who looked ready to go off on one of her twenty questions a second rounds,) 'Your questions and queries and let me get at least a little bit of sleep?'
Crimson nodded impatiently. 'Yeah, yeah sure, but just tell me your name quick, it's really frustrating having to call you, 'the girl' in my mind all the time.'
'Obsidian'
'Huh?'
Obsidian blew a dark strand of hair from her face and looked down at the small, heart shaped face with charred curly hair, glaring up at her.
'That's my name' she said slowly, trying desperately to sound patient and ignore the distant police or firemen sirens, that were becoming increasingly louder, as they got closer and closer to their target.
'My name is Obsidian. And we really, really need to go'
OK! Well, now you've met Obsidian, but is that really her real name? Why does she have a gun? Whose child is she? All these questions will be answered in later chapters, but for now, READ AND REVIEW!
