Ah, here we are, with our latest installment of The Fiction Relay, details about which you can find here http://thereclininggentleman.wordpress.com/2012/10/23/fiction-relay-homepage/ , and/or the Summary of this fascinating tale can be found here http://thereclininggentleman.wordpress.com/2013/01/01/fiction-relay-summary/ the following is my humble contribution, and to find out who’s up for the next chapter, you have to scroll to the bottom of the page so you may as well read it while you’re scrolling anyway….so please, enjoy.
Two red glowing eyes were laser-focused on Melissa sleeping the sleep of the damaged.
After the visions first played out in her head, she couldn’t fall asleep. Her mind was trying to process everything that had been revealed to her, trying to decide what her next move would be.
She continued to focus on the wooden coyote with the strange piercing eyes until she eventually drifted off.
As she tossed and turned, mumbled words in an ancient language slipped from her lips and that piercing red glare intensified.
Raj was not happy.
Melissa had betrayed him in more ways than one.
Although there was a little piece of his remaining mind that was almost impressed with the depth of her anger, it didn’t come close to the rage inside Raj.
She had killed him once back in the cave then left him for dead again by leaving him imprisoned in this cookie-cutter cheap motel room.
Raj had allowed her to believe he was as dead as she intended him to be, but he was far from finished with her.
Raj and rage were never far apart when he was alive, the stolen power Melissa used to reanimate him had done a better job than she could possibly imagine, at least as far as his mind was concerned, and now the only thing in his reanimated brain was rage intensified.
His body, on the other hand, was a rotted mess.
Melissa had literally stabbed him in the back, repeatedly plunging her blade into his body long after Meagan teleported away from him. His back resembled an old leather sofa shredded after years of being used as a cat’s scratching post.
He would get his revenge on Melissa, on all of them somehow, but for now Raj remained trapped inside his own unmoving body, slumped and tied to an uncomfortable cheap motel chair while she continued to sleep.
The strange wooden carved coyote was set on the bed table beside her sleeping body, quiet.
Raj rested his gaze on the carving, his own rage-filled eyes locked on the inhuman eyes of the mystical totem. The visions that had slammed over Melissa eased soft and slow into Raj’s mind, filling in the blanks between his rage, leaving Raj full of ice cold fury and a strong desire to make his way to the ice caves revealed in the totem’s visions.
His inability to seek out the icy underground cavern served only to increase his anger and while patience had never been one of his strong points when he was alive, Raj’s death at the hands of that traitorous bitch Melissa left him with a strong desire to do some major damage.
Let her sleep the sleep of the dead, thought Raj, she wasn’t long for this world, not if Raj had any say over the matter.
Blue was on a mission.
She had a Mother to find. The hell with her so-called Father, he could fend for himself as far as Blue was concerned.
Blue instantly felt the exact moment her Mother left the Club. As tough of a front as Blue kept up, sometimes she couldn’t hide her worry about her Mom from Spence.
He knew Blue well enough to let her go alone as she wanted.
She was perfectly capable of taking care of herself and she was determined to get to her Mother.
And they could always and without fail get into each other’s head anytime, anywhere. Besides, Spencer had a few more irons in the fire than even Blue was unaware of.
He had a few things to take care of, a few things which, well, the less Blue knew, the better.
At times, Blue’s own memories would get patchy and tangled, fading in and out sporadically, but there was one thread that was woven through every single thought she had as far back as she could remember; her biological Father abandoned her and her Mother before Blue was even born.
She imagined he must have taken off the minute he found out her Mom was pregnant, and although no one ever told her that, deep down, this is what Blue carried with her each and every day of her life.
She’d hopped on her bike as soon as Spence admitted he’d already had her motorcycle brought back from the Jack-Ass Coffee bar.
A flash of that waiter’s face transforming earlier, all fangs and claws, eyes spitting fire as he scrambled after her in the bar sent a chill down her spine.
She increased her speed as if she could outrun the memories she wished she could forget and catch up to the memories that eluded her.
Part of her wanted to pay a quick little visit to Tyrone to have a few words of the non-verbal kind with him, let her fists do the talking, but the pull of Meagan, the Mother she wanted so badly, was becoming stronger the further on she drove.
There was something else though, something nearby that felt as if it was tugging at her. It began to feel as if her motorcycle was driving her instead of her driving it.
There was a scent in the air. Putrid. Rotting. Like driving by the city dump on a hot summer day, the air was heavy with the stench.
Blue knew the odor was undetected by the normal human nose but Blue didn’t have the normal human nose, if she let herself, she could differentiate and track each and every separate smell in the air.
Just one of the many powers she had, it was something she could turn on and off at will.
But as she flew down the deserted back roads, as she slammed into the nearly tangible smell of Evil with a capital E, Blue’s heart began to pound nearly out of her chest.
There was something frighteningly powerful and ancient, dark and evil mixed amongst the mélange of stink, but that wasn’t the cause of Blue’s sudden dread.
Her Mother was there.
Wherever there was, whatever the ever-strengthening stench was pulling her toward, Blue could feel her, smell her essence mixed amongst the quickly approaching dire.
If Blue’s instincts were right, and they usually were, something big was about to go down.
If Blue’s instincts were right, sometime in the very near future, things were about to go from bad to worse.
to be continued, as the baton passes to http://kyotzeta.wordpress.com/2013/08/30/three-2/#comment-1891