A/N: Alright, so I was hoping to make this longer, but I also really wanted to update this today. it's been, what, two and a half months? Yeah. So this isn't my best, but whatever. Better than nothing right?
It's finally summer again~. Of course that means there will be many days where I have no time for , but it also means there will be lazy days that I can devote you guys. Like today.
Also: for those of you who don't know, ordo ab chao is latin for "order to chaos." It's probably pretty obvious, but just in case.
Anyways~ here we go!
When The Cicadas Cry - Chapter 1: From Order to Chaos
A tall girl with flowing, bright orange hair spilling over her rounded shoulders sat on a large bed. Her long, pale legs were bent upwards, her hands resting across her knees. She leaned her head back against the oh-so-cold and oh-so-white wall, gazing up with oh-so-bright, vivid green eyes at the oh-so-plain ceiling of the room.
A normal room, in a normal- albeit rather large, and rather empty, at the moment, too- house... in a not-so-normal town.
Well, not anymore. Not after that, which had thrown the little, ordinary suburban town (not to mention her mind, but that was a whole other matter of discussion) from order into chaos.
Order to chaos. How often has she heard that little saying before? Never, though, did she completely and fully comprehend the true force behind those three words. Until now, that is.
That was what it was, and that was what it would stay as. Unlike her three other friends, who dived into the new, intriguing mystery with the eagerness of a pack of vultures scattering around their long-dead prey (with its heart stopped short and oh-so-red blood tainting the once pristine ground and its eyes still wide open in paralyzed fear that would stay there forever), she did not want to even think of it. It was too... too much for her to handle.
No one had ever died before. Come close to the cusp; the very, very thin line that barely separated the two, yet was worlds apart, maybe. But never actually died.
Never murdered.
Stone cold on the unforgiving ground.
Murder. Murder. Murder. Murder.
Murderer.
Who was the murderer?
Her fingers clenched into a tight fist and curled around the sheet next to her, knuckles whitening in response to the sudden strain. She closed her eyes slightly, her heavy-lidded vision blurring with barely restrained tiredness, reflexive tears flooding her dry eyes. Her eyebrows furrowed slightly, creating the tiniest of wrinkles around her wide eyes and along the bridge of her nose.
She couldn't sleep.
Couldn't, wouldn't, shouldn't.
It didn't matter which word you used, they all described how she felt right now with a deadly accuracy that was almost frightening.
Something bothered the girl. She knew it was extremely farfetched, but as she shifted her cramped position on the corner of the large bed, tangling the pristine, oh-so-white sheets in the process, she felt it again. If she fell asleep, something would happen.
Something big, possibly even life-changing.
She almost laughed at her own cliche thoughts. She would have, too, if not for the dark reason behind them.
Whether this something, this urge, this lure to shut her eyes was good or bad, she couldn't (couldn't, wouldn't shouldn't, couldn't wouldn't, shouldn't; the three word mantra remained embedded in her skull) tell. All she knew is that she would soon fall asleep, and would just have to hope for the best. If she knew her hometown would be like this... even if it was known for it's criminals and legends...
Her eyes drooped slightly, resigned to their fate.
The day after the murder was a rather silent one. Many- scratch that, practically every human within the boundaries of the little town that had been pulled into chaos- stayed inside their own homes. whether out of fear or for some other reason, no one could really tell.
Besides the whispering of the gentle winds, the only movement along the barren streets was a small, lanky alley cat. Its long, greasy black fur which most likely once held a glorious sheen was matted against its skin, giving it a slicked and underfed appearance. Its haughty yellow eyes swept over the deserted town as its long, bony tail slowly swept back and forth in a languid motion that seemed to almost be hypnotizing.
A ripple passed through its fur, the wind whistling through the inky black strands. The cat unblinkingly endured the sudden change, darting off down a dark alleyway.
The creature swiftly padded through the damp, narrow tunnel of intransigent concrete, tail held aloft and ears pricked for warning of intruders. As it neared the end of the alley, it nimbly jumped from one empty crate that littered the ground to another. It continued its upward climb until it balanced precariously on a stark white fence, the neatly trimmed grass on the other side open and inviting.
The silence was brutally torn by a tinkling of a chain, followed shortly by a ear-splitting, rough bark emitted from a dog in the yard below. The big, dark-furred creature pulled against its strong bonds, saliva flowing down its jowls as it strained to reach its eternal enemy- just one of many- that sat atop its owner's fence.
The cat, however, merely watched the poor creature with thinly veiled disdain, flicking its long tail irritably. A slight hiss echoed from between its sharp, pointed teeth, startling the rather large dog. It whimpered slightly, its short tail lowering as it backed away from the fence. However, its cold, glaring eyes did not once stray from the scrawny feline as it continued on its journey.
Eventually, the unkempt cat began to approach another animal, enshrouded in shadow. This animal was much larger than the feline and much more muscular in stature. It could not be called human though, by any means- the figure was very obviously standing on all fours, poised to start running if necessary.
"You're finally back, then? Any more news on the situation?"
Yay for fail cliffhangers!
Please R&R if you have the time, I'd like to know what I can improve on and what should stay consistent. Also, if the animal thing is too farfetched.