Hey, what up, ma homies! It's been awhile! I'd apologize, but I didn't get that many reviews, which did not motivate me. :'(
And as an added bonus, I didn't exactly know how to write this chapter.
Everyone who gave their opinion told me they'd rather have me update more with shorter chapters, so it's short. For me.
Thanks to MichaelJacksonScaresMe, Stark's NO1 Girl, KwopKilawtley, Chocoville, Topeka13, Tigerlilysmile, and HeartTheCullens *coughgoreadherstorycough* for reviewing!!!
I only got seven. This disappoints me :(
Oh my gosh!!! I just saw Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs!! It was soooo funny when the dad is all like, "Son, can you look me in the eye and tell me nothing is gonna go wrong?" (or something to that effect), and I'm like, "Teehee, no, you don't HAVE any eyes…" ya know, cuz he's only got one ginormous eyebrow. But then, THE EYEBROW MOVES UP AND IT WAS SO FLIP FLOPPIN' HILARIOUS I ALMOST DIED LAUGHING!!!!! BWAHAHAHAHA!!!!!
Enjoy!
Stark
He knew she was here; he could feel it.
But Zoey was absolutely nowhere to be found.
Stark let out a roar of frustration, and took an angry swipe at a bed of tulips nearby, causing the quickly healing scar on his chest to stretch painfully. He had finally felt something from Zoey, as if she'd sent it with Spirit, and he immediately used his newly discovered speed that he'd gotten after becoming Zoey's warrior to get to where it was coming from as fast as he possibly could.
But when he'd arrived, all he'd found was the back wall of the palace, a small garden by the wall, and a koi pond with a little bridge going over it a few yards away. Stark paced furiously this way and that, trying to think of some way to find her, all the while throwing livid glares at the colorful fish as he stomped past.
Right now all he wanted was Zoey. He needed her. Heck, everybody needed her. He could drink from her, he would heal to be able to protect her more efficiently, and her imprint with Kalona would be broken. Everything would be great. Stark wished he could go back in time and just drink from her when she'd first asked him to, back in Tulsa. If he'd done that, he'd be stronger, and could have gotten to her quicker a week ago when she needed him. Although she would have been weaker, but maybe they would have had to delay the trip, if even by only a few hours. If they'd left just a little later, none of this would have happened; Heath wouldn't have gone outside when he did, wouldn't have died, and then Zoey wouldn't have tried to save him and shattered her soul. Or Stark could have stayed with her, like he should have been.
It was one of those horrible times where you wished you had done just one thing different to change the outcome of everything.
"Oh, Zoey," Stark whispered into the first light of dawn, his skin beginning to itch with a light burning sensation that was his warning to get inside, fast.
He turned, defeated, to head back inside, when a burst of wind blew his long hair into his eyes and made the bow and pack of arrows strapped to his back sway gently. And as if the wind had carried it to him, Stark suddenly had an idea. He headed back towards the wall, glancing at the approaching dawn and realizing he'd have to do this fast. After hastily grabbing his bow, Stark reached back for an arrow, apprehension making him clumsy. When he finally had the long projectile in his hand, he started to set his bow, before swiftly changing his mind. Removing it from the bow, he, with a wince, snapped the arrowhead off the end.
Stark looked warily at the sharp, fractured plastic that was now the end of his arrow, and would probably cause more damage to anyone it hit than if he'd just left on the head. He checked the sky again, suddenly knowing that the sun would rise in four minutes, and then he'd be cooked. Literally. He searched frantically around him for something to make it less dangerous, but all he found was a rock. Thinking quickly, he grabbed it and started rubbing the sharp end of the arrow's shaft against it, in the hopes of smoothing it to something safer. After one fruitless minute of grinding, it was still stubbornly sharp.
Stark sighed anxiously, looking at the sky once again, but didn't give up. Another idea struck him—a much smarter idea. He reached down and ripped a piece of his shirt off, folded it into a thick, layered square and shoved it on top of the shaft. His hands shook with nervousness as he took a piece of twine from his pack, and tied the thick square of fabric around the arrow's dangerous end. He approvingly admired his handiwork, just as the little itch of a burn became a big itch of a burn. He had a little less than two minutes. Swiftly setting his arrow, he raised his bow and pulled back.
Zoey, Stark thought contentedly, This is for you.
And he released the arrow, his head filled with thoughts of his Priestess.
Zoey
I was laying on my side in a small meadow of soft, lush grass, ringed by towering trees. I didn't remember waking up, or how I got here, but I wasn't going to complain. Anything was better than that cold, dark, cellar I'd been in before.
How did I get here? I asked myself curiously as I rolled onto my back to look into the fluffy white clouds floating aimlessly in the clear blue sky. I sat up with a jerk, suddenly realizing where I was. I was back in Heath's Otherworld.
"But—how?" I choked out, my heart nearly skipping a beat. I would get to see Heath again!
"It's 'cause you're awesome, Zo," a deep voice said from beside me, shining a familiarly beautiful, metallic green.
"Heath!" I squealed like a little girl, throwing myself at him. I gave him a huge hug, and he awkwardly patted my back from under me.
"Ow."
"Oh, sorry," I muttered as I removed myself graciously, saving what little dignity I had left.
"It's alright," he replied cheerfully. "It's just nice to have you back, even if it's not for long."
"What do you mean?" I asked, suddenly very serious.
"Well, any minute now you're gonna wake up, and then you'll be gone. From here," he added quickly. "D**n, I was hoping you'd be here longer."
"But…how do you know? And how am I here? And—"
Move. The low voice startled me. I looked at Heath, and he smiled sadly at me.
"And you're going to wake up in five…"
"But Heath, can I come back again?" I cried, ignoring the voice that I knew both of us could hear.
"Sure. Four…"
Move, the voice called more fervently. Get out of the way.
"How? When? Do I have to be asleep? And who is that? Is—"
"However, whenever, no. Three…"
"You didn't tell me who it was! Is it someone bad? Is it Neferet? She did this, didn't sh—"
"It's Stark. He's gonna come and rescue you soon, if everything goes as planned. Yes, Neferet Zoey-napped you. Two…"
"You've changed Heath," I said quietly as I began to glow. "What happened?"
"I'm sort of like your Otherworldly helper, I guess. I don't know how I know all this crap, though. I guess it's your pal, Nyx. One…"
He leaned closer to me, and our faces nearly touched. I became lightheaded, and it wasn't only because of my approaching journey.
"This time it's going to be different," Heath whispered, his cool, metallicky voice coiling around my face and hair. "Harder. Just keep your thoughts straight, 'kay?"
"Okay," I replied softly, not quite knowing what or how he meant.
"Zero…" he whispered as he leaned forward and our lips met for a thousandth of a second, before I exploded once again.
This time was totally different than any time before. I actually saw my 'body' explode into millions of tiny, shimmery pieces around my little ball of spirit, or whatever you want to call it, and it felt as if my free-floating consciousness was being sucked and pulled and stretched into a ridiculously small, pin-sized hole. I saw Heath look up at me and wave, and suddenly I was pulled all the way through, the Otherworld disappeared, and I was floating along on my merry way.
This journey, too, was different than any other. Where as before, I had just been floating aimlessly, this time there were many differing paths I could take. I yearned to stray to the left, or up, or some different way than the path I was on, because each and every path looked so amazingly appealing. But a part of me knew that I should stay on this one, and it was strong enough to lead me the right way.
And then I was being stretched, pulled, sucked, shoved, twisted, formed, jerked, shaped, arranged, forced, urged, ripped, grated, and heaved through another itty-bitty pinhole. This time it was much more painful—it was excruciating—but almost as soon as it had begun, the pain ended.
I opened my eyes slowly, blinking the sleep from them. I tried to look around, but it was absolutely dark, and it hurt my wrists and ankles to shift positions.
Move.
That familiar voice compelled me to do what it said. I used all the strength I could, and used it to roll over. What must have been less than a second later, two consecutive thuds followed by a whoosh and the sound of dirt hitting concrete filled the empty room.
My curiosity fueled my next roll, but I was stopped short by a sort of stick thing. It fell over easily, and I scooted away to see what it was. Somehow there was suddenly light in the room, and I saw a long, black stick with three brightly-colored plastic wings sticking out of one end, and a mass of dirty fabric at the other. It looked almost like one of Stark's arrows, minus the ball of fabric…
"Zoey?" came a whisper from above me, and the light was suddenly gone.
I looked up towards the sound of the voice to see Stark's face peering down at me through a tiny hole in the ceiling.
Yay! And hopefully something interesting will happen soon...
'Kay, so I'm gonna start writing the next chapter as soon as I can. When I get ten reviews for this chapter, I'll update with whatever I have written of the next one. So it will be up to YOU guys to decide when I update! This way, if it's a long wait, you'll most likely have a long chapter. But if I get ten reviews quick, you'll get to read real quick!!! I think this way will be efficient. But remember, this is not my only FanFic, so it may sometimes be a little longer.
Review, guys!!!
Your Pal,
SuperOreoMan
