Hyrule's Stories

Part Three

Patrick was pissed. It had been three days since his meeting with Will (that turned out to be quite a success. Will had done a pretty nice job with the cross bow; he’d promised to make some more.), but there was another vampire notice soon after, and that was a disaster.

What had happened was, Will had just finished showing them his bow, and Samantha was trying it out (she was the only one of the three to get five bulls-eyes in a row), when his cell phone rang. No one was calling; he’d gotten an email from himself.

He knew what that meant; there was some vampire activity about. They hurried to Patrick’s car and set off. “Samantha,” said Patrick from the wheel, “Check the radar.”

She nodded and took a laptop out from under his seat. Patrick and Will had managed to set it up. On various rooftops of the town they had set up small satellites, which together would scan the town and produce virtual representation of the town on their laptop. It was a lot more difficult to get the radar to pick up the vampires; they ended up just settling with a high frequency device that puck up people’s (specifically vampires, which still had hearts, surprisingly) heart rates, anything abnormal and they’d be on their way. It wasn’t exactly accurate though (several times it was just a false alarm).

“Weird,” said Samantha, after a moment.

“What is it,” asked Will, readying their only crossbow.

“Well,” she said, twirling her hair with a finger, “It’s the middle of the day. Vampires are supposed to be night creatures, aren’t they?”

Patrick would’ve agreed with her, but he was a vampire and knew better. At first, he had been reluctant to even step out into the light, but by pushing himself, he had managed to do it, though with some discomfort. “Well, I’m out here,” he reminded, “And these one’s might’ve found a way to get out in the light, like me,” he concentrated on the road again while Will and Samantha started discussing how horrible it’d be if vampires started hunting during the day as well as the night.

Patrick began to grind his teeth. How much longer would they have to fight? After his accident, Patrick had sworn to help the cause. He wouldn’t wish it upon anyone, even on someone he hated, to be turned into a vampire. It was an extremely difficult life, and he always had these urge; in the day the urge to sleep; in the night the urge to hunt. And the worst of it was that whenever he was around someone, his brain would urge him to sink his fangs in their skin. He shook his head.

“… And I don’t think I can manage getting out of bed and going out to fight these things. I mean, a girl needs to time to fix her hair and have some personal time,” said Sam.

Will put his head in his hand, “Bah, whatever, you win. Well, at least we all agree that it would be real bad if vampire attacks started happening during the day.” Samantha had a victorious smile on her face; Patrick turned back to the wheel and tried his best to hide a chuckle.

“Hey!” said Will, noticing Patrick’s small laugh, “She’s your sister and you can’t even argue with her!” He glanced down at the map he had open on his lap, “Also, turn here.”

Patrick turned the wheel right and managed to catch the site of two vampires jumping into a convertible with two people in it. One was a large fellow with a head of brown, curly hair. The other was his girlfriend, supposedly, who had begun screaming as the vampires jumped her boyfriend. That’s when Will and Patrick sprang into action.

They swiftly jumped out of the car. Patrick ran at them with inhuman speed, knocking one of them over while Will shot wildly at the fallen vampire. The vampire screeched and tackled Patrick. He struggled with it, but even with the vampire’s super-human strength, Patrick was stronger.

They wrestled on the floor of the parking lot for a moment until Patrick had the vampire secured on the ground, “Will,” he called, having trouble with the vampire, who screeched and hissed at him, “Shoot it!”

Will took aim, and fired, hands jittering. He missed. Just as he was about to manage another shot, Samantha grabbed the bow out of his hand and fired. The small stake found its mark, running through the vampire’s chest and into his heart. Will looked at Samantha, “What was that? I had it covered.”

She grunted, readying another shot, “You get to nervous when we do this. That affects your aim.” Will shrugged, but didn’t argue.

By that time, the other vampire had finished with the man in the car, and looking from the other seat (empty; the girl had left at some point) to Patrick, who was running toward him. In a minute, the vampires had bolted of in the car. Patrick followed in his own leaving Will and Samantha on their own.

“Hey,” called Samantha, “Come back here!” but Patrick had already ridden off. Screaming silently she looked at Will.

“Um,” he said, “I guess we could play Simon Says or something while we wait.”

“Why would I want to play Simon Says,” Will heard being shrieked at him, minus the profanity. He shrugged, looking out towards the road.

Meanwhile, Patrick accelerated, closing in on the other car. The remaining vampire was in the drivers seat. He turned to face Patrick and hissed, slamming his car into Patrick’s. Patrick lost control of his wheel; his car fell backwards and started spinning. He grabbed at the wheel and struggled to take back control.

When he had finally in charge of his vehicle again, he drove back on, but the chase had ended; the vampire had gotten away.

Patrick sighed. Get over it, he told himself, It was days ago. But now he was forbidden by the state to get behind the wheel of any car whatsoever (he had gone off driving like a madman, trying to catch up with the vampire when he had been stopped by a police officer). He sighed, flipping on the television.

“Today a vehicle was found crashed into a lamp post off of Clockworks Road. Police investigated the crash site and found a man dead in the passenger’s seat with multiple bite marks on his neck. Police are investigating the cra—” Patrick flung the remote at the television.

Putting on his jacket, he fumbled in his pocket for his cell phone.

It rang once. Twice. Then: “Hey Will, it’s Pat… Not so good, actually… Yeah, I was actually calling about that. I might need a ride… Cool, I’ll be outside my house… Sam? Nah, she’s at a movie right now… ‘Kay, see you in a moment.” He pocketed his phone and exited through his door.

---
I've worked on Broken Goddess, but it probably won't be out for a little while yet.

Part Four

Sam put her hand into a pocket, found her house keys, and then opened the door. She exited the fast approaching darkness and stepped into the house. “I’m baaaack,” she called. Her response echoed through the house.

She shrugged. Mom must not be home. Patrick probably isn’t here too, she thought to herself. She and Patrick had been living alone with their mother since their father passed away. She crossed through the hall and into the kitchen. She went to the refrigerator and took out a bottle of water. She took a sip and looked at the not that had been attached, via magnet, to the refrigerator door:

“Gone to the farm. Be back later. Sam, you can use my laptop.

Patrick”

She knew what that meant. Patrick had had another one of his urges. Whenever that happened, he went to the local barns and took blood from the animals (“It’s better than biting people,” he had said, shrugging, when he had suggested it).

Samantha exited the kitchen and climbed the steps upstairs, heading towards Patrick’s room. She entered to find Pat’s laptop open on his bed, radar open. She sighed, setting herself down on his bed, facing the laptop. She had just minimized the radar application, and was about to check her email, when the minimized radar started flashing. She opened the program and scanned over it, simultaneously taking out her cell phone.

She called Will, who she knew would be driving Patrick around because of his suspended driver’s license, and gave him directions to the vampire hotspot. She looked at the laptop’s screen once more and then left the room.

Once outside, she put on her helmet and rolled her bicycle out from the garage. Jumping on, she rode out of the driveway and started riding off to the location the radar had specified. Her destination was a place she knew well. It was just a block down from the church she was a part of.

She road on, passing the church a few minutes later and rode down the street, coming to a wall. She stopped there, hearing voices behind the wall. She felt a hand touch her shoulder, than another covered her mouth. She turned around, her scream muffled; it was Will. He put a finger to his lips; Patrick handed her a crossbow and a handful of small, wooden stakes. They listened on to what was going on behind the brick wall:

“Look, guys, I don’t want any trouble,” said a small, male voice.

“It’s too late for that,” hissed a deep voice. “Yeah!” hissed a handful of other voices. There was a thump against the wall.

“Guys, guys,” said the small voice, “Please, don’t get carried away,” his voice quavered slightly.

“It’s too late for that, Denel,” said the other voice.

This is when Patrick sprang into action, jumping out with a crossbow in hand and firing wildly. Will and Sam followed suit. Sam ran out from behind the wall and took careful aim. She fired, bringing one of the two-dozen vampires down. She could see Patrick firing and refilling wildly with his weapon, fighting alongside a young boy, maybe thirteen or fourteen years of age, who fought with his fists, punching and kicking to hold his ground. She turned and fired, spotting Will, who was firing, wincing as each shot found its mark.

Soon they had diminished the vampires’ numbers, bringing it down to about eight. They ran off, the largest one, who had wild eyes, inch long fangs, and a deep voice called back before running off, “We’ll be back, Denel. By then, you should know your place.” He hissed that last proclamation and then jumped off into the night, disappearing into the darkness.

“Well then,” said Patrick, turning to the boy, “Who are you?”

“Yeah,” said Sam, moving a strand of her curly, brown hair from her face, “Who are you? What are you?”

The boy pushed a clump of black hair from his eyes, “I’m Denel, Briac Denel.” He grinned up at them, revealing a pair of pearly white fangs.

Will raised his crossbow immediately, pointing it at the boy’s chest. He looked towards Patrick for the signal. Patrick stared at the youth for a minute, before finally saying, “Okay, you better come with us.”

Briac nodded, as if having expected that answer. The group of four then walked away from the scene of the attack. Will and Briac walked over to the car, which was parked some way off; Patrick stayed with Sam while she got her bike out.

“So,” she started, after awhile, “What do you think of the kid?”

He thought for a moment, “If he had any ill-will towards us, he would’ve acted by now.”

“Well, Whatever you may think, I just have one thing to say,” said Samantha, “I have a bad feeling about that kid.”

---
Fooorshadowing.


Broken Goddess won't be coming for awhile, my mind's still not set in that mood. And Venatio Lamia's ending soon (I'm thinking by the end of the week it'll be done), but I have another short story idea to follow it's ending.

Part Five

Will seated himself down in a chair. The chair screeched as he moved it, the sound echoing through the hanger. The boy, Denel, winced noticeably from his seat on the other side of the desk. “So, tell me again how you ended up getting attacked?”

The boy flicked a clump of greasy black hair from his face, “I told you this days ago. Do we really have to go through it again? Can’t I just give my report?”

Will sighed. Samantha looked over from her practicing (with the crossbows) and gave Will a questioning glance. He gave her the I-still-don’t-trust-this-kid look.

Briac Denel had proven to be a useful store of information. According to his account of things, all of the vampires had banded under the banner of Moon, the meanest cat out there. Moon had proposed that they take care of their problem once and for all. They had started noticing the mortals starting to fight back (curtsey of Patrick and co.), and had decided to take care of the problem once and for all. How, Will didn’t know, Denel hadn’t been able to come up with anything on that subject.

Denel had decided that he wouldn’t attack humans, stating that he only fought them when it was necessary (Yeah right, thought Patrick) and had disagreed with the vampires who had gathered. They attacked them after that, and that’s when he had run off and been rescued by the gang. From then, Patrick and Briac had devoted themselves to figuring out more about Moon’s plans. They had decided on send Denel, in disguise, to go and spy whenever Moon called a meeting.

Will rubbed his forehead, and then sighed, “Fine. What’s the news on the battlefront?”

Denel took a moment to answer, putting his feet up on the desk and leaning back in his chair. Will grunted at him. He looked up, “Anyway, as I was about to say, Moon’s decided to attack the Red Rhinos and turn them to his cause. After he’s done that, he’s going the storm the city, killing and changing anyone who gets in his way.”

“Who are the Red Rhinos? I’ve never heard of them,” inquired Will.

Denel shuffled his legs before answering; “They’re only the largest gang in lower Thames.”

“Huh, and I thought I’d heard of all of the lower city gangs…” Will stood up, “Well then, thanks for the report. Tell us as soon as you can when Moon schedules his next meeting.”

“Mmhmm,” acknowledged Briac, picking at something in his teeth, his pearly white fangs glistening in the light.

Will walked off, somewhat annoyed by Denel’s lack of respect. He shoved it aside, heading towards Sam; he had to deal with this kid if he was going to help Patrick. Secretly he wished that Briac would get discovered at a meeting, just so they could get rid of him.

A thump came from his right; he looked at Sam, who was reloading her bow. She acknowledged him with a grunt. He watched her for a moment as she loaded her weapon and fired. There was another thump as the projectile buried itself in the heart of the wooden target.

“Hey, Sam,” said Will.

“Yeah?” she asked quietly, slowing down.

“I was wondering,” he took a quick breath, and then asked quickly, “Well, I was wondering if you’d like to got out for some coffee or something sometime?”

She stared at him for a moment. He turned away and scratched the back of his head, and then looked back to see her with a smile on her face, “Sure. When we going?”

His eyes widened, and then his mouth widened into a grin, “H-how about now?”

She gave him a smile and followed him outside. They hopped into the car and started the long drive towards town. When they arrived at the destination, Will pulled up into the parking lot of a bakery he’d worked at once. They silently exited the vehicle and entered. Sam sat down at a table while Will went to buy their drinks and a muffin.

A moment later, Will walked carefully over to the table with a tray. He set the tray, which held to steaming cups of coffee and a large cinnamon muffin, down and took a seat. They conversed little and quietly, spending over an hour there, even though they had finished their beverages and the muffin in half of that time.

“Whoa, it’s getting pretty late,” announced Will after looking out at the already darkened sky.

Samantha looked out the window, “Yeah… I guess we better go. I’ll call Patrick and tell us to meet at the hanger. Briac can crash at our place tonight.”

Will nodded and exited the bakery. Sam followed suit. They made the drive to the hanger in short time and were exiting the car fifteen minutes later. Will his keys into the hanger’s side door and opened it quietly. They could hear a voice speaking quietly. Will nodded, his mind remembering that they had left Briac inside. They walked in quietly until they could make out what he was saying. What Will heard made him stop dead in his tracks.

He turned to Sam and put his finger to his lips. She nodded and followed him slowly deeper into the hanger. It seemed like Denel was on the phone, “I don’t care what he’s doing right now. Get Moon on the line. I have some important information about the targets.”

Venatio Lamia 6 has been done a few days, but I don't want to post it now.

Short stories:

This Fight's Fixed

The man lowered the gun, pure shock painted on his face. No one was in the house, yet he took quick looks around anyway. “I can’t believe I actually did it”, he thought, “but it was her own fault.”

He put the weapon away into his pocket. He’d get rid of it later, but now there was the body to dispose of. He wiped the sweat form his brow and bent down to hide the body of the girl he once loved. He dragged it across the room. Bloodied stains marked where the body had traveled. The man’d have to cover that up later.

By the time he had successfully transported the body across the living room and into the coat closet sirens began to sound. “Damn,” he muttered. Someone had probably heard the gunshot and called for the authorities. He began to panic. The room was a mess and there was no time to lose.

He half-ran, half-leaped to the coffee table. It was flat bottomed; perhaps it could cover the blood? No, there was too much of it. Some sort of cloth? Yes; he could be acting as if he’d been painting the room. No, no, that wouldn’t work. Who in their right mind would try to paint with furniture in the room? It would take too long to move and he didn’t have any paint.

This is where things truly began looking gloomy for the man. The sirens were getting closer. Even if he managed to get out of this, what would there be to live for? She had been his center, and with out her he was nothing. Damn it, this was all his fault. What if he had miscalculated the signs, and she really wasn’t cheating on him?

He began to cry. What could he possibly have done to deserve this? That’s right, he had killed someone. Well, if he’d done it once, he could do it again. The sirens were blaring now, but he still managed to keep himself steady. He could feel the cold steel of the gun barrel against the side of his head. “Just try to find me,” he cursed.

Unbreakable

I dodge the sword easily. The look on the man’s face is priceless. Ha! And they call him the greatest knight in the land. I shout at him; his head springs up at the noise. There is no need to take out my sword, so I thrust upwards with my armored fist.

Blood splatters outward from his crushed skull. Most men would grow sick at this part, but I relish the moment. I live for this. I live for the glory. I live for the look in my opponents eyes. I live for the fight. “Enough,” comes a shout from the sidelines. I can barely here it over the rhythm of my heart, which longs for another fight. I relax my fighting stance hesitantly.

“Now,” says the king, “that was quite entertaining, young man. You have proven yourself as the best warrior in the land. I request that you stay as my vassal. Do you understand?”

He gives me a look that says he’ll kill me if I don’t accept. I have seen this look before, it is ineffective, but I answer as I always do, “It would be an honor to serve under you.” I give an exaggerated kneel as he walks over to knight me into his court. This has happened countless times, all ending in death.

I am unbeatable, and my wealth is glorious. All are attained as spoils of war. Who fights this war, you ask. Well, myself and the world. My opponents are everywhere there is wealth I may want. It is easy enough with the armor I wear, which I soaked with the blood of a dragon I slaughtered years past. Ha, they suspect nothing. I am unbeatable.

Forever Young

A young girl peeked over the hill. She grew a shocked look on her face; this side of the hill was so different. While the other side of the field had been lush, green, and wild, this side was a sickly yellow-green color that smelled musty. She felt her stomach hurt, but her youthful sense of adventure got the best of her; she moved on.

The field stretched on for what seemed like miles, yet when the girl looked up, the sun seemed to have not moved at all. She shrugged; young people weren’t supposed to brood about these things. Soon the field ended and a stock of trees began to appear. She walked cautiously now. The trees were close together, forbidding much light from breaking into the woods. The leaves of said trees held more color than the field, but they seemed too green, as if they were sucking the chlorophyll out of the grass from before.

“This is too weird she said,” deciding to leave and go home. She tried to, but it didn’t work. Whichever direction she went only seemed to get deeper into the woods. She was utterly and hopelessly lost. Suddenly, there was a feeling on her shoulder. The girl’s scream was stifled by the long and wrinkled hand of a woman.

The woman was short and small looking. Almost fragile, as if her days were coming to an end. The girl decided to go against her conscious, which was screaming “Stranger danger! Stranger danger!” in her head. “Excuse me, ma’am, could you help me find my way home?”

The little old lady stared at her, and then began shuffling away. She paused and turned her body, motioning for the girl to come. She followed; what else could she do? The woman brought her to a clearing, the only place in the whole forest that seemed to let any light in. In the center stood a ratty old shack. They went inside.

The woman sat her down at a table and brought her a drink. Then she began to talk in a strained voice that seemed to emanate from someone older than the little old lady, “What’s your name, deary?”

The girl took a sip of her drink, “My name’s Lillian. What’s yours?”

The woman ignored her. She nodded at the name and urged Lilly to drink; so she drank. As Lily drank she could here the old woman muttering to herself, “Such pretty hair. Much younger than the last one; she’ll do fine…” and other weird things like that.

Finally, she finished the drink and stood up, “Okay, I have to go now. Thanks so much for the drink.”

The old lady shook her head, “No, sit. You must feel very tired.”

Actually, Lillian was kinda tired. She sat down again, blinking rapidly, but no luck. She fell asleep muttering about how she’d be late to dinner if she didn’t go now.

The old lady cackled and closed her eyes. In a matter of seconds she seemed to disintegrate into dust, leaving the shadow of a tall woman wearing a pointed hat behind. The shadow gave the appearance of walking. It walked all the way to Lilly and then melted into the girl’s shadow. The shadows turned into shades of grey. The woman’s shadow was a pure black, and Lillian’s silver. The silver shadow shrank and shrank until it was no more.

Lilly’s eyes flickered open, a smile on her face. The old woman was gone, leaving only a pile of dust where she had once stood. Lilly walked through the house, as if she’d been living there for years. She stopped at a large mirror in the hallway. She leaned in and stared with an analyzing look on her face.

Then she smiled, “Aren’t I pretty,” she said in the ancient voice of the late little old lady.

Really great, what I've read so far (chapter one). I like the simple, home-y feel of everything. I'll keep checking back.