The Last Chance
By Jake Denton (kingcobra49036@yahoo.com)
Note: This is chapter two, picking up where "Forced Decisions" left off.
As the sun rose, signaling that typical working morning, Dominique AKA Demona howled in agony. Puck's spell still, even after all these years, turned her into her dreaded human form in the daylight hours. Right now, the flame-haired business woman/Gargoyle screamed in unmatched excruciating pain as she felt her insides, her gargoyle anatomy, twist and bend to shape that of a human's. It hurt like a bitch.
When at last the pain faded, Demona panted, trying to regain her breath. It was never long, her transformation, but it sure took a lot of her. So much so that Dominique was surprised she even had the energy to run NightStone Unlimited and not look at least tired.
Recovering from the unbearable rush of agony, Dominique gazed out casually at the distant skyline. The sun was getting high in the sky now, and she knew her daughter Angela was asleep now, frozen with those clan mates of hers.
Which she would be a part of again, if all went well.
Thinking back now, Dominique reminisced. She recalled all the things in her life she had done. Attacking her own clan and even worse, her former mate Goliath. Using the one called Brooklyn at the Cloisters to control Goliath's mind. The clones. Coldstone. Macbeth. Every attack plan that had involved her to some degree.
All the things she would go back in time and change if she could.
Maybe, just MAYBE, if she would change her lifestyle, her routine assaults against both her own species and the kind she blamed for her loss those centuries ago, she would be one with them again.
She wouldn't be alone anymore.
Sighing, Demona looked at what she assumed the direction of the castle was. All the buildings and skyscrapers that flooded her vision made it difficult to pinpoint, though she knew Wyvern was around here somewhere.
Goliath would be difficult to persuade the most, next to Brooklyn. Neither of them had any reason to trust her. And every reason to refuse her readmission. Knowing them, if Angela had told them what had been discussed between her and her mother earlier, that the clan was suspecting a trap.
But they were wrong. She no longer wanted their deaths.
She sighed sadly.
Why did she do all that she had done? She was insane, and knew it.
But now...
Now she was different.
Forever.
The End?
Or just the beginning?
Any criticisms? Send them! kingcobra49036@yahoo.com
By Jake Denton (kingcobra49036@yahoo.com)
Note: This is chapter two, picking up where "Forced Decisions" left off.
As the sun rose, signaling that typical working morning, Dominique AKA Demona howled in agony. Puck's spell still, even after all these years, turned her into her dreaded human form in the daylight hours. Right now, the flame-haired business woman/Gargoyle screamed in unmatched excruciating pain as she felt her insides, her gargoyle anatomy, twist and bend to shape that of a human's. It hurt like a bitch.
When at last the pain faded, Demona panted, trying to regain her breath. It was never long, her transformation, but it sure took a lot of her. So much so that Dominique was surprised she even had the energy to run NightStone Unlimited and not look at least tired.
Recovering from the unbearable rush of agony, Dominique gazed out casually at the distant skyline. The sun was getting high in the sky now, and she knew her daughter Angela was asleep now, frozen with those clan mates of hers.
Which she would be a part of again, if all went well.
Thinking back now, Dominique reminisced. She recalled all the things in her life she had done. Attacking her own clan and even worse, her former mate Goliath. Using the one called Brooklyn at the Cloisters to control Goliath's mind. The clones. Coldstone. Macbeth. Every attack plan that had involved her to some degree.
All the things she would go back in time and change if she could.
Maybe, just MAYBE, if she would change her lifestyle, her routine assaults against both her own species and the kind she blamed for her loss those centuries ago, she would be one with them again.
She wouldn't be alone anymore.
Sighing, Demona looked at what she assumed the direction of the castle was. All the buildings and skyscrapers that flooded her vision made it difficult to pinpoint, though she knew Wyvern was around here somewhere.
Goliath would be difficult to persuade the most, next to Brooklyn. Neither of them had any reason to trust her. And every reason to refuse her readmission. Knowing them, if Angela had told them what had been discussed between her and her mother earlier, that the clan was suspecting a trap.
But they were wrong. She no longer wanted their deaths.
She sighed sadly.
Why did she do all that she had done? She was insane, and knew it.
But now...
Now she was different.
Forever.
The End?
Or just the beginning?
Any criticisms? Send them! kingcobra49036@yahoo.com
