Chapter One- I Write Sins and Tragedies

    No Rest FOr the Wicked
EncoreDeZiza
Copyright; All Rights Reserved
2013

Chapter ONe
I Write Sins and Tragedies

  Right, left, right, left, right, left. God, this made her sound emotionally unstable. Left, right. She grinned wildly as the tone in her head dropped a few octaves. Right, left, right, left, right. Left, left, left, right, left. She just stood, starring at her still high-topped converse. What did they do? Jump? She hopped forward, biting her lip, as she regained her balance immediately. She glared through her sunglasses at the aging and cracked sidewalk. How could humans believe they’re destroying the world when the things they build are so easily, so subtly, destroyed and conquered by nature? How did they not notice? The little things are, after all, the most important. The ones that go unnoticed, are often the ones you wish you’d taken time to see. To praise. To notice. Humans… They were always moving too fast. From point A to point B, destroying everything and anything that blocked their path or paused their movement. When you’ve lived a thousand lives, you learn to notice. You learn to admire, appreciate, notice. You learn to love your planet. Because it can be easily destroyed, not by the humans. But by things stronger, faster, powerful. The grounds will shake, the water will rise, the winds will fuel the raging fires, the sky will fall. It will all come crumbling down. But not today, and not by human hand.

            But they don’t know. She reminded herself calmly, the wind teasing her hair lightly. They haven’t lived a thousand lives, they are babies to the universe, to the world, to reality. They will die innocent and ignorant. Some arrogant, but most, wasted. Still, she’d protect them. Protect them from her own kind, because although they’d lived a thousand years, some more, at the end of the day, it was still a choice for each individual to make. ‘Do I notice the yellow flowers? Should I water them?’ Or ‘Look at this annoying yellow dot. I’ll kill it and be on my way’.  You see, it’s all perspective, and it’s all your choice. You choose who’s side you’re on. War for her kind was coming, but something deep, deep within her gut, told her it would end up being way more than just her kind. It didn’t make sense considering her kind was all there was, but… It was her gut, what she felt and believed with everything in her, and she’d never been wrong before.

            She placed her shoes over the aging concrete, the symbol of humans and their place in the world. Slowly, she brought her head up to her apartment, where she’d been heading moments before. She tensed at the silhouette of a man standing in her window. She felt the heat intensify in the palm of her hands, her jaw flexed as she pushed into the room. She searched for his aura, but drawing a blank, opened her eyes as the curtail was drawn, revealing the tall, built man, hidden under black-tinted shades. His lips lifted up into a full-blown smile she couldn’t help but return. She mentally cursed herself for not hating him as she swung the red duffle over her shoulder and trotted up to the door.

            “Really, Mr. Grey, first theft now breaking and entering?” She shook her head in disapproval, ‘tsk’ing her tongue as she closed the front door, turning to face him. He stayed right where he was, standing next to the window, his ankles crossed, as well as his arms firmly over his broad chest. The taunting smile had faded in the time it’d taken her to lazily and slowly make her way to her home. He was here for business. Their business. And she didn’t want to bite.

“Pardon me, I just feel like- the way we-“

She put her hand up, effectively cutting him off. She wanted to forget him, so badly, throughout the centuries but she never could. As much as she hated it, they would always be unfinished business. “If this is why you’re here, it’s healthier for both of us if you’d leave.” She concluded, opening the closet to her right, and tossing the duffle on a shelf.

“Richelle-“

“Ashton.” She could practically see his jaw slam shut, the little muscle flexing in the back of his jaw, only a tiny movement, but one she’d always found completely hypnotic. She was glad, for once, she wasn’t facing him. Unfortunately, she didn’t need to be to see the way he flinched away from her harsh tone. Her heart dropped and she batted her eyes, willing away her tears. She hated crying. Hated being emotional. Hated how he was the only one who ever made her cry. She hated the sting in her temples, the burning in her eyes, the flashes of intolerable heat, quickly meant with ice, that began at her rapidly thumping heart. She hated that she couldn’t cry water like everyone else, she hated the feel of raw skin and the way her fingers resembled runes after rinsing the blood from the cloth. She hated how her vision was duller, and the seemingly endless days of recovery that felt like weeks to the weakened Pheonix. She hated it all. She blinked furiously.

“I’m just trying-“

She drew a deep breath, closing her eyes as her ribs shook. She couldn’t do this. Not in front of him. “Please leave.”

“Now hold on,” He protested, the floor creaking under his shifting weight. She felt the warmth of his body circulating around her. Her body stiffened.

“Leave!” It came out as a command, a vicious, threatening growl. Although he was a male, stronger, bigger, more authority, it was still her territory so he was forced to accommodate her commands. She didn’t relax until she heard the unmistakable slamming of the front door.

            She stepped away from the closet, her body shaking. No, no, no. Not now! Her lips quivered. Oh God, she prayed, why? “Moxx?” Thud. Thud. Thud. Footsteps. “MOXX!” Thump. Thump, thump. Thump. Heartbeat. Two arms wrapped around her shoulders, hefting her up, she found herself frozen, her body rejecting the blood that gathered behind her pulsing eyes. She hated this. Hated him. Hated that she didn’t hate him. “MARZELL!”

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. “WHAT THE- SON OF A B***H!” Thump. Thud. Thump, thump, thump.

“Put her to sleep.

           

 

Xxx

 

            “You should let me after that son of a b***h! I’ll finish him!”

“You know what happened last time.”

“He’s trying to weaken her!”

“How do you know it’s even him?”

“No one else makes her cry, Iz. No one.” Silence. “So I’m going to kill him.”

“Marzell…”

“What? He deserves death! Actually, death’s too good for his miserable-“

“Damn it, Marzell! We don’t need war!”

“He’s already started the war!”

“We don’t know that.” Iz hissed, emphasizing the word ‘don’t’.

“Who’re you talking about?” Richelle croaked, struggling to sit up in the sheets.

Iz’s pitch black eyes flickered to Richelle, a strained smile on her face. “Here,” She mumbled, handing her a clouded glass. She took it without hesitation.

“How long was I out?”

“Just a few hours, hon.”

She nodded, “Thank you.”

“It wasn’t me.” She grabbed her sunglasses, slipping them on, before searching the bright room. “She needed air.” Iz informed, answering Richelle’s unasked question. But she supposed when everyone you loved, studied, or came in contact with wore thick tinted shades over their eyes, you became accustomed. You adjusted. You taught yourself to peer through the misleading invention.

Richelle simply rolled her eyes at the lie. She winced at her movement and mentally scolded her stupidity. “You were fighting again.”

“Which is why we’re going school shopping tomorrow. You’re the only one we can both trust.”

“That’s nice,” She grimaced. She’d never been to high school before. And she’d been informed she’d have to be in every class. She wasn’t allowed to leave and that meant being trapped in a building for hours on end, with Ashton. “Just sacrophice the middle man…” She joked, hoping to hide her true thoughts.

 

           

            “This is cute,” Iz offered, holding up a black tank top with a huge silk bow over the stomach.

“No.” Richelle rejected, flipping through her own clothes rack.

“Come on Richie!”

“Don’t’ call me that.”

“But you’ve never been preppy before!” She whined. Richelle tossed a flat look over her shoulder.

“A foxy lady with the last name Moxx?” Richelle looked up, giving her red-headed friend a wide smile. Marzell held up three baskets full of clothes. “Sounds like loads of sexy meets bad-a*s.”

Richelle rolled her eyes, bouncing over to her friend and snatching up the baskets, “Eternally grateful!” She sang over her shoulder as she running off to the changing rooms.

            She’d been too into the song playing in her head to be paying attention as she hit head on into a brick wall. “Oh my God! Are you-“

“Sorry Ma’am, I-“ They both stopped, already on their knees, trying to gather their things, when they both looked up to meet the exact set of eyes the other had been hoping to forget. “Richelle.”

“Mr. Grey.”

“Fancy meeting you here?”

“On the contrary.”

Amusement flashed behind the wall of black that covered those animalistic eyes, “Did you follow me, Ms. Moxx?”

“What? No! I-“ The twinkle in his eyes blossomed into a smirk as he practically beamed down on her.

“Right. Well, nevertheless,” He held his hand out to her and she blushed at the black lace underwear, “You have an excellent taste in clothing.”

“Thank you.” She excused, snatching the underwear before standing, “Have a good day, Mr. Grey.”

“See you at school,” He gave a bright smile and she shoved past him, locking the door- just to be safe. She leaned against it, attempting to regulate her breathing. Why did she care so much anyways? She really, really shouldn’t.

 

            “Marzell!”

“What? I’m curious! There’s no way I’d stay sane without. It’s the only positive thing about immortality.” She shrugged.

Richelle grabbed three empty cups and glared at Marzell, “My, my, my, we’ve got an optimist on our hands.”

“Go ahead, shun me for living. But at least I’m having fun.”

“Look, I’ve had my fair share.” Richelle shrugged, “I’m over it.” She dismissed, passing out the cups.

“No you’re not. Hell, that’s the problem!” Marzell scolded, taking her cup. “He stole your Lamborghini, Moxx. He had sex with you, convinced you he loved you, stole your case-file, and drove off in your car.” Richelle swallowed as Marzell cocked her head to stare openly at her, “And you still love him.” Richelle locked her jaw.

“Alright, I think that’s enough.” Iz scolded, filling her cup.

“No, it’s not. You need to let yourself have fun. Go have sex. Hot and steamy, hard-core, hate-filled sex.”

“Count me in.” Richelle and Marzell both stiffened at their intruder.

“Not even after Hell freezes over.”

“Would you prefer now?”

“Don’t you have some poor innocent girl to scam?”

“You know, if I didn’t know better, I’d say this is you prepping for all that glorious sex you were talking about.” Marzell’s body shook, the ice in her cup melting from heat. This only seemed to inspire Ashton to reach forward, his blonde hair falling over his face but failing to shield those yellow eyes. He plucked a French fry and gave Marzell a wicked grin before sticking it in his mouth. “I’ll se ya ‘round, Red.” He promised before walking over to Pizza Hut.

“I hate that man.”

Iz chuckled, “Speak kindly, he’s listeing.”

“So are you guys going to be living with me?” Richelle asked, plopping the trey on the table.

“No. We’re across town.” Iz muttered, grabbing her taco and potato-o-lays.

“’We’re’ as in together?”

“Mhm.”

“That’s wise.” She scoffed.

“Look, ours is closer to the school. Plus, Izabell’s your emergency contact.”

“So shouldn’t she be living with me?”

“Relax. In all reality, I’ll be moved in within a week. I can’t handle parties or the smell…”

“Gross.”

“I have needs, damn you all!” Richelle shivered, abandoning her taco.

“Thanks a lot, you two.”

“Anytime, Love.”

“Shhhh.” They both glared. “Look,” IZ nodded at a strawberry blonde teenage girl in a jean jacket and shorts. Standing alone. Her bright emerald green eyes flashing between menus. “Show time.”

Richelle and Marzell shared a flat look before Richelle stood up, standing on her chair, “HEY YOU! LADY WITH THE SWEET JACKET!” The girl proceeded to look around, “I’M TALKING TO YOU!” She looked at Richelle in utter confusion, the whole room was watching and it was obvious she knew as a soft red blush crept up on her cheeks. Richelle nodded encouragingly, answering her silent question. “DO YOU LIKE TACOS?” She nodded, her blush deepening as she took a strand of twisty strawberry blonde hair within her fingers, rubbing and twisting, shaping it into a beautiful masterpiece. It was amazing, how something out of fear and subconsciousness could make that. Richelle leaped from the table and bounced over, shamelessly flinging an arm around her shoulder. “We’ve got an extra one. Come on.”

 

            “So are you going to be coming to my school?”

“Yeah,” Richelle smiled, “You should show me around0 I hate all that ‘new kid’ mumbled jumble.”

“Well… Actually… No one really talks to me much.”

“Why’s that?” Iz asked, but Richelle couldn’t care less what her ‘aunt’ had to say, she was focused on the girl. The girl they were made to protect. Her emerald eyes flashed of fear and sadness. Richelle’s heart immediately dropped. “You know what? It doesn’t matter.” She flashed an award-winning smile, “I’m so awesome, I’m the only friend you need.” Hailey smiled before bringing a burrito to her lips. Her phone buzzed and she practically jumped out of her skin, she desperately began tearing at her pockets, her whole aura now reeking of fear.

            “Richelle picked up her phone and handed it to her, “Here y’are love.”

She didn’t smile or even acknowledge Richelle as she scanned the screen, her face paling by the second. “I have to go,” She croaked, her voice cracking on ‘I’.

Richelle offered a warm smile, “WE could give you a ride.” Hailey stood and Richelle followed, never taking her eyes off the girl.

“No!” she nearly screamed. She took off, nearly tripping over her own two feet.

“Go, go, go!” Iz whisper-yelled, but they were already to the doors.

 

            “What the f**k? She’s walking?” M snarled, “We offered her a ride, damn it!”

“Stop.” Iz hissed. M glared at the command. “Besides, she’s meeting him somewhere.” Richelle nodded in agreement. Their eyes on the road.

“Meeting who? The trigger?” They nodded in unison. “Okay, well stalking her in a car, isn’t helping.”

“STOP!” Richelle ordered, Iz smashed the breaks, sending Marzell head first into the windshield. “There.” Iz opened her door and Richelle fallowed, closing it behind her as M shot daggers at their backs.

            They followed her into an ally, spotting a red Chevy. It was undoubtedly not taken care of.  Richelle turned her head in time to spot a man sneaking up behind Iz. “Iz!” She warned. Iz spun, landing a solid hook into the man’s jaw. Richelle freed a blade from her pants when she noticed his glowing red eyes.

“Where’re your friends?”  Iz questioned; he gave her a dark smile and Richelle jumped as a sharp pain erupted in her side. C**k sucker! She glared at the blue-haired punk. His eyes were quite unique, orange and blue- showing off the colors of the hottest flame. She couldn’t kill him, she knew as much. He was far too powerful. Not wasting another second, she drove the blade forward. His eyes flashed, glowing as he tried to heal. But she never missed. She struck home and all healing was doing was pumping the blood right out of his system.

“Seriously guys? How come I’m never invited to the fun parties?” Richelle didn’t even register M’s words before the flame boy attacked, leaping through the air and effectively disarming her. He dug two blades into each side of her ribs, she hissed through the pain and reached up with her bare hands to tear at the previous wound. It was a rather deep gash over his heart; all she had to do was keep opening it. He let out a hair-raising shriek and jerked the knives up, breaking all six of her ribs. She bit her lips, drawing blood that quickly mixed with sweat. She breathed through her nose, tearing and ripping just as fast as his skin tried to pull and mend over the hole. His grip began to loosen and she flipped over, straddling him, ripping, tearing, shredding. Ripping, tearing, shredding.

            Finally, his chest went still. She reached in, her hand around his slow, dying heart. Thud……….. Thud…….. With a heavy sigh, she slashed a hole in his heart and watched the last of his blood drain. Her eyes remained glued on his as the color slowly dulled. His eyelids flickering before closing a final time. She jerked them open, pulling back as the intense swirling colors exploded from his skull and shot into the sky. Her posture stiffened as she stretched, cringing from the pain, she reached down and jerked the blade from her left letting out a surprised yup before moving to her right. She scowled when she found the majority of it had healed and yanked it out, full on screaming as the bones rebroke and then began to heal and pop into place.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

XXX

 

 

            “How long?”

“Two hours.”

            The three of them sat in Richelle’s tiny living room, the flat screen playing the latest rock somewhere in the background. Marzell was silent, perhaps the most obvious sing that something was most definitely wrong. Her red curly hair was pulled up into a rather long and thick pony tail. Two long sections of her hair at each side of her face, outlined it’s long structure and her dulled violet eyes.

            Iz was a different story, her white-blonde hair pulled up into a tight bun at the back of her head. Her long white eyelashes more than noticeable against her tan skin and black demonic eyes. Her posture was identical to Richelle’s, Iz sat in the recliner, her right leg crossed over the left knee. Her hands held the small glass of whiskey where as Richelle’s was in her right hand, next to her jaw. Both were far off in thought.

            Suddenly, Richelle’s glass lowered, her right left lifting onto the air as she bolted upright, her golden eyes brightening. “I got it!”  T he others’ eyes slid into her in unison, Marzell waiting. IZ hoping for a breakthrough. “It’s not Hailey.”

“Are you insane?” M all but spat. “It has to be Hailey.”

“Moxx, we’ve been watching her for months-“

“It’s her killing the people, it’s her with the wild powers-make no mistake.” Richelle agreed, looking between the two. “But it’s not her choice.”

“It’s never their choice-“

“Listen.” Richelle urged, “She’s being controlled.”

“What?”

“The boys, they had tattoos. Did you see them?”

“They were Chevellian.” Iz cut in, beginning to see Richelle’s point.

“So?”
”So- when has a Chevelle ever wanted someone to be abused? When have they ever showed up for a boring case like that?”

“They were watching her.” Iz confirmed, sitting back in her chair.

Richelle nodded, “Because it’s not her will.”

 

            Her phone vibrated in her pocket, but she ignored it, eyes closed. The wind could carry you anywhere, bring you anything, Give you anything. Wind could change you- better or worse. And that’s why I drive a Harley.

            She whipped the bike into an empty slot, effectively cutting off some d****e’s Porsche. Swinging her legs over, she pulled off the black tinted helmet and smiled at her audience, before bending at the waist and undoing her bun, sending her red tinted hair failing into their outrageous twists and turns. She cracked her neck and rolled her shoulders, jerking her phone from her pocket.

‘Searched everywhere… Nothing.

-M.’

‘Eyes open lovely, have a great first day

-Iz<3’

            She sighed and pocketed her phone. Great. It didn’t take long to spot the beat up old’ Chevy and the small, fragile strawberry blonde that seemed to fall from it. She walked slowly, tripping over the smallest things. Richelle waited patiently, grinning as Hailey neared. Slowly, her pale green eyes met Richelle’s. “Hailey!”

“I’m sorry, I-“

“Oh honey, you’re more than fine.” Richelle interrupted, spotting Hailey’s Goosebumps and shrugging off her jacket.

“God, please don’t hit me!” Richelle’s head snapped up, shocked to find the tear-filled eyes on her. She held out her jacket. “Oh please, no, I couldn’t-“

“I insist.” Richelle urged, Hailey took the leather with shaking hands. Richelle didn’t miss the purple, choppy scars that lined her wrists. She closed her eyes but smiled encouragingly. When she was covered, Richelle flung an arm around her shoulder and led her inside.

‘Well that’s great. Go get laid- tell Iz to keep looking.’

She typed, glaring at the screen as it struggled to send. The hair on her arms pricked, her heart spiking as the atmosphere seemed to thicken. She spun, pinning the Chevelle by it’s throat. “What do you want with Hailey Adams?” The green-yellow cat eyes starred back at her. He coughed, blinking. She stared into his eyes, into his pupils as he opened for her like an open book.

He was in the truck, drumming on the steering wheel to Nickleback’s Burn It To the Ground. That’s when the first scream was audible. He jumped out of the truck, following it to an old beat-up Chevy. A man and woman- no, the girl. He was beating her and waving around a knife- Grey locked his jaw, all his muscles flexing with the strength it took to stay in place. He watched in awe as she didn’t shift. Didn’t even so much as twitch in any paranormal way. That’s when he heard another scream- only not hers, a mans, Sebastian’s. The truck barreled down the road and he took off after the cry; stopping dead in his tracks.

            The leather jacket blending in with the black hair- the only useful identification of the monster violent shredding Sebastian to pieces. One knife on each side- Sebastian’s knives.

His jaw locked, as he darted forward. He froze as five familiar scents hit him, but there was one stronger than the rest. Richelle. He starred at the woman he loved in complete horror, his attention divided when someone cleared their throat. He turned his head to the blonde and the red-head standing behind Grant’s dead body. Red just smirked. They were waiting for her finish. He shivered, the hair on his arms rising, his eyes shifting back to Richelle. Finally, the hair on his neck rose and the chill settled in, reaching his bones before he took off- bolting into the night.

 

            Richelle blinked, her eyes shifted from his, dropping him like he’d been dipped in poison. “Richelle-“

She held up a shaking hand, holding her hand under her nose. She needed a damn break. The school halls suddenly seemed too crowded- the walls began to move, to breathe, moving closer and closer towards her. They were closing in on her, entrapping her, killing her.

            Her heart raced, her feet trying to catch up as she ran to the nearest exit. The sign implying they were locked tripled in her vision, zooming in and out as the letters merged and colored red and blue. She drew back her arm, shattering the glass and hopping through.

            She took ragged, uneven breaths. “Oh God.” She whispered before doubling over and puking up blood, her nails extracting into her knees. More blood. Her vision shook as she heaved and then threw up more. More, more, more…

 

XXX

 

Pulling the leather closer to her, she continued to weep. It didn’t make sense, the kindness. It was worse than the blind hatred. Than the motivated pain. She pulled the scissors from her pocket and held out her left wrist, carefully slicing her skin. Tears rose, spilling over the edges, clogging her throat and coating her face. Even her distorted vision couldn’t hide how quickly and effortlessly her body healed, leaving another purple scar. She continued to cry. Why? Why her? Why was she different? Why wasn’t it enough to be a worthless piece of crap? Why did she have to be a freak too? Her ribs shook and she ripped off the coat in time to spill everything she didn’t eat. Her body continued to shake and she continued to gag, but nothing came out.

            Oh God, just kill me.

XXX

“There’s nothing here.”

“Nothing?”

“Are you f*****g deaf? Yes, nothing!”

“Marzell,” Iz warned.

“Why can’t Moxx get a different play-toy?” Marzell whined. Grey glared at her.

“Why can’t she-“

“Enough!”  Iz hissed. “She’s at home. Alone. It’s been three hours, she’s almost up. I want to be there. So shut up!” She drew a deep breath and flashed a tight smile. “So, how were your corners?”

“Clear.” Marzell reported.

“Clear.” Grey agreed.

Iz nodded, “Let’s get out of here.” That’s when they heard the roar of the engine. “S**t.” Iz nodded to a nearby window, “Go.”

“It’s two stories!”

“You’re immortal, M. Jump.” Marzell glared, but complained, Grey hot on her heals.

 

 

 

            “Um… Hi.” Richelle started, the entire room looking at her. She cleared her throat, turning her full attention to the woman in front. “I’m new.”

“Ah, yes.” A gentle-looking elder lady turned form the bored, her soft grey eyes meeting Richelle’s. “They told me to expect you two days ago.”

Richelle inwardly cringed, “I-“

“Office.” She instructed, turning around.

“What?”

“Oh, forgive me, I almost forgot.” She sang in her happy-go-lucky tone, “Don’t forget this when you go.” With that she scribbled on a piece of paper. Folded into a ball, and chucked it. Richelle caught it just inches from her face, glaring at the woman who smiled politely in return. Grandma from Hell..

 

                        “YO MOXX!”

“Gimme the phone,”

“But I’m soooooo bored!”

“DO you want to go to school too?” Rustling. “Hey hon,”

“I missed two days?”

“No. Actually, you ditched yesterday and showed up late today.”

“Whatever, I’m in trouble.”

“Well yeah, you kind of broke the door.”

Richelle rolled her eyes, glancing behind her to the office, “I need you to get me out of it.”

She gave a deep sigh, “In their world, you’re eighteen, Moxx.”

“Well yeah, but you’re my emergency contact.”

“Right. But being eighteen you’re supposed to call in.”

“Then what the hell are you for?”

“Im on there in case something happens to you or they can’t find you-“

“Which they couldn’t yesterday.” Silence. “And did they call you?” Silence. “That’s what I thought. Come here and kick some a*s.”

“I wanna kick some a*s!” M screamed in the background.

“NO!” Both Iz and Richelle denied. “I’m coming,” Iz continued, “I’ll try, okay?”

 

            “Ms. Moxx, can I help you?”

“Yeah,” She gave the secretary a warm smile, “What’s the deal with your front door?”

“Oh,” She blushed, Richelle waited patiently. “A young Mr. Grey came in yesterday and confessed to smashing it.”

Richelle just stood, dumbfounded. “Oh.”

“Yes, well, honesty is the best policy!” She sang, her blush deepening. Richelle found her posture stiffening at the realization of the secretary’s blushing. She liked him. A lot. “Indeed.” Was all she said, but even her tone had taken up a sour taste.

“RICHELLE JAMIE MOXX!” Both Richelle and the secretary jumped about ten feet.

“MARZELL!” Iz screamed in the background.

“Oh s**t,” M’s red hair spilled down her back her green army jacket covering her white tank top and red bra. She was in a pair of black shorts and combat boots, waving her phone around.

“Give me the principle or I’m calling the super intendant, the school bored, EVERYONE!”

“Marzell!” Iz came bursting through the door, her white hair suffering some serious whip lash. Her black eyes covered by shades, she wore a wrinkled white blouse and dark, almost black, blue-jeans.

“Uh, Principle Spencer? There’s three ladies out here to see you.”

“Send ‘em in.”

            “I have more than a few words to say to you!” Marzell screamed, Richelle was standing in the doorway, her gaze frozen on Ashton.

“Who’re you?”

“Mr. Spencer” Iz huffed.

“Ms. Shae. What is going on?”

“Oh, we wanna talk to you!” Marzell informed, snatching a twizler and biting off the end.

“Who are you?”

“Oh, I’m Mrs. Izabell Shae.”

“WHAT?” The entire room roared.

“Well okay, future Mrs. Izabell Shae.” She batted her eyes as if holding back tears, “She hasn’t asked yet, a little ring shy, if you know what I mean.”

“Good God.”

“What? DO you have a problem with gays, Mr. Fancy pants? What, with your slicked back hair? Hmm? Are you discriminating?? Oh you better be not be discriminating!”

“Ma’am, ma’am! No, I’m not-“

“You kids better get outta here! Imma kick this man’s a*s!”

“Oh, yes! Go. There’ san empty meeting room across the hall.

            “Married, huh?”

“Oh God!” Richelle blushed, shaking her head.

“How are you?” He asked seriously, his yellow eyes trained on her.

“Why’d you take the fall for the broken door?”

“You were poisoned, Richelle.”

“Which is my problem.” she shot back. Honestly, she didn’t even know she’d been poisoned.

“Not when I’m the one who did it.”

“What?”

“Let me explain. When you stole my memory-“

She glared, “I didn’t steal s**t!”

He just gave her a pointed look, “Anyway, I trained myself years ago to set up a defense- a self-destruct, if you will.”

“Oh, I did.”

He gave her a sad smile, “So if I was captured or whatever, they couldn’t get anything out of me. Anything.”

“When you puke, you forget.”

“Precisely. Well, that or you don’t puke, you keep the memory and you die- either way you can’t share what you’ve seen.”

“Nice!”

“Yeah, till I forgot.” Her lips pressed into a firm line.

“You didn’t forget, Ashton.”

“Yes I did, If I didn’t-“

“No, I taught myself something too. If I want the memory, I get it.”

“Oh.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“I should’ve fought for my friend.”

“You panicked.”

“I’m a coward,”

“Everyone makes mistakes.”

“Not like that.”

“Ash-“

“Okay! Good and bad news,” Marzell sang, hopping through the door. “The bad news is you’re expelled, but the good news is we’re sewing the school!” Richelle groaned, leaning into her chair as Ashton’s booming laughter rang through the room.

 

                           “How many times do I have to say I’m sorry?”  Marzell whined.

“More than you will ever be-“ SMASH.

Richelle didn’t wait for the ceiling to quit spinning to jump back up and gather the loose pieces of paper from the ground, one word catching her eye. Hailey. “Oh.” The girl jerked the paper out of Richelle’s hands, and it clicked. It all clicked. ‘I’m sorry. I write fiction and so, yeah, if you saw anything-“

“Like knives being lodged into someone’s ribcage?”

She blushed. “I’m really sorry!” She yelled, jumping to her feet and bolting, only to be caught by Marzell.

She shook her head, “Hand it over.”

 

“HELP! HELP!” She screamed, only to have her mouth covered by Iz.

CHAPTER ONE PART TWO- I Write Sins And Tragedies

 “I don’t get it, since when’s writing a crime?”

Richelle rolled her eyes, “It’s an old type of witch craft. You create, you control. They used to go after witch hunters, hell, some would create a hunter just to torture it or send it on suicide missions. It basically started to fulfill sick pleasures.”

“1976, the first documented sex slave.“ Marzell informed, pouring the alcohol.

“You would know that.”

“It’s the only one I know,” She replied with a flirtatious wink.

“Gross.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

“So take away the pen and paper,” Ashton hypothesized, “What happens?”

Iz and Richelle looked at each other, “The oldest spells were so strong, the controller could write in it’s head. Visualize the ink sprawling across the white paper, and continue on it’s merry way.” Iz leaned forward, “They could kill people literally across the globe, while grocery shopping. No one knew. No one suspected. It was impossible. It was the perfect crime.”

“They had to be burned.” Richelle added.

“The characters?”

“The author. However, if the b*****d got tricky and implied themselves in their books, the books would be burnt as well.”

“Killing the characters, though.”

“Indeed.” The room fell into an awkward silence.

“So where’s the story?”

“Righ-“

Iz grabbed Marzell’s retreating arm and snapped it in half before snatching the book and planting herself firmly on it, “Never read it.”

“Why?”

“It adds power; the last thing Dr. Seuss needs is more power.” Richelle informed, giving Marzell a tight look as she held her arm defensively.

“Okay, well, whatever. We still need to find the other books.”

“How do you know-“

Richelle waved a hand, cutting everyone off, “No, he’s right. There has to be other books.”

“You can’t just kill all those people!” Iz shrieked, horrified.

“They’re not people.” Both Richelle and Marzell dismissed. Iz’s jaw slammed shut, tears forming in her eyes. “Marzell, Ash- Grey” She corrected, “You two go to her house, burn every single piece of paper you can find. Every damn one.”

“Every one?” Grey clarified, running tired hands through his shaggy hair.

“Every piece.” She confirmed.

“What are you gonna do?” M asked suspiciously eyeing her, as if she’d run off.

“Iz and I are on babysitting duty.”

“Okay, and Moxx?”

“Yes?” Grey stayed behind, looking directly in her eyes, as Marzell stood and gathered heir coats and phones.

“Burn everything? Everyone? Are you sure you’re ready to be accountable for the deaths of that many-“

“They’re not people, Grey.” She repeated, leaning forward. “What she created, whatever demonic horrific monster she’s risen, is not and never will be human, am I clear?” He nodded, his eyes full of suspicion and caution. “Burn everything you see; Everything.”

 

            “Holy S**t.” Grey yelped, dropping the leather-bound, yellow paged book like acid.

“What?” Marzell demanded, walking over and shinning her flashlight over three italicized golden words:

The Chevellian Wars

“We can’t-“

“Call her.” Marzell growled.

 

XXX

 

  “My fan base is growing.” She bragged, flashing imperfect human teeth. Richelle cocked her head to the side, watching as Iz pounded furiously on the keypad. “Delete it from the web all you want, my copies are being printed, my ideas, one-liners, and jokes- spreading by word of mouth. Scenes are being played over and over in their dreams. Poison me, all you want, delete all the copies you want, hell! You can-“

“Burn?” Richelle filled in, smirking when the witch’s mouth finally clamped shut, her smirk faltering. “Are you familiar with the smell of fire, dear? The smell of flame licking leather, devouring paper, igniting flesh…” The author flinched as an idea sparked in Richelle’s mind. Adjectives. Make the witch see it, visualize it, and it’s over. “Your puppets will die, Love, your children. They’ll fall one by one, and when your entire Victorian home is ash, we’ll hold you over it and burn you too. Detach your head from your body so you can watch it burn, hear their screams, and I hope to God you choke on the smoke. When your body’s blown by the wind then we’ll finish you off. But not at once, no, we’ll treat you like a fillet. Piece by piece will be cut then burnt. Piece by devious piece.” The witch charged after Richelle but was caught by chains. Her eyes flashed crimson red as Richelle threw her head back and laughed.

“You can’t stop me from creating a new story!” The witch spat hastily, desperately trying to get on top of this conversation. Desperately trying to win. “One with characters stronger than you- who’d kill for me!” Pathetic. She was pathetic. Here she was, hanging by the ceiling, wrapped in chains, screaming revenge it was obvious she’d never get. Not if this s**t was given to her every two hours- water, prayed over, made holy. It was poison to her blood supply. And Richelle couldn’t wait for her to die.

“Honey, once we burn every book, every last one, you’re powerless.”

“You wont burn every book,” She rebutted. That wicked, taunting smirk back again; Richelle opened her mouth but her buzzing phone stopped her. Ashton.

“Make it quick.”

“We can’t burn all the copies.”

“I’m listening,” She promised, moving away from the witch, “Explain.”

“There’s one here, in leather binding. It’s us, Moxx, she wrote about us.”

  The witch laughed at her rock-hard posture. “GO ahead, Love,” She mocked, “Burn them. Burn them all!” And with that, she burst into a never ending fit of laughter.

 

XXX

 

  “So this is it?” Richelle asked, her eyes frozen on the book.

“This is it.” Grey confirmed. She snatched the leather book and practically chucked it into the black duffle. “And you burned the rest?”

“That I did.”

“Good. Where’s Marzell?”

“Clubbing. I guess waiting for a chick on a bike isn’t her thing.”

Richelle rolled her eyes, “Waiting’s never been-“

“Lucky for you though, you get me all alone.” He added, leaning on the handle bars and flashing a smile.

Richelle revved the engine and cracked her neck, “Get on the b***h seat then.”

“What?” He stood up straighter, his face crestfallen, his hand gripping the handle bar with white knuckles.

“Okay, first things first, don’t grope Alec, he doesn’t like it. And for the last time, be my b***h or walk.”

He forced a tight smile and took off; Grey just stood watching her headlight fade. He shook his head; well she was definitely a boost for the ego.

 

 

  “DAMN IT, IZABELL!”

“I WONT LET YOU KILL HER!”

“SHE’S MISERABLE!”

“SHE’S HUMAN!”

“SHE’S A PUPPET!”

“NO! SHE’S NOT!” The sound of shattering glass had Grey running full-speed to the basement.

“What the hell is going on?” His eyes swept over the girls, Richelle half bent over due to Izabell’s ruthless pulling. In the higher part of her body, Richelle held a small book covered in red-velvet cloth. In the other was a lighter that Izabell was holding closed, red tears streaming down her face.

“SHE’S TRYING TO BURN HER!” She shrieked, her voice cracking on ‘burn’.

“Burn who?” He asked, his voice automatically taking on a more authoritive tone, calm and collected. A voice of reason in the midst of chaos.

“Hailey.” She croaked.

His heart immediately dropped, “We all liked Hailey,” He spoke softly, “But Hailey was- is- miserable.”

“No,” She began rapidly shaking her head, “No, no, no!”

“Iz,” He closed his eyes, remembering the screams, “She was abused, she self-harmed, she couldn’t understand why she was so different…” He opened his eyes, looking at her with remorse, “We have to let her go, please. Let her go.” Iz just starred, hues of blues and reds flickering in her dark, black eyes, “Please,” He repeated quietly.

She gave a short nod before gradually removing herself from where she’d entangled herself with Richelle. Iz stood, brushing the wrinkles from her clothes before bolting from the room. He gave Richelle a hard look of understanding and she nodded to him in gratitude. With that, she brought the lighter to the cloth and watched the poor girl burn.

  “It’s funny,” They both jumped at the dry, cracking voice of the half conscious witch, she coughed, bits of black blood spewing onto the floor. “I wrote your story, wrote you, hell I finished your damn book and none of you ever come to me for advice.” She gave a sly smile, “You think you’re changing your story? You’re not. Everything you do, Every word you speak, every thought you think- I’ve written, I’ve seen.” Then she opened her eyes, it was obvious how much strength it took by how they kept fluttering closed. Her red eyes were dull with the poison but they sparked with mischief. “I know about your ‘encounter’. The pull you have towards each other. I know how much each of you are willing to sacrophice for each other and how much farther you’ll go. I know the great loss you feel when you’re apart and hell, I wrote about your heart break. When Ashton stole your paper work and your car… You know, I wrote that when I was bored? I knew it was real, but I didn’t care.

  “The heart-felt love confession- it was real,” Her eyes flickered to Ashton, “Tell her. Go ahead and tell her how Sebastian made you do it- tied by blood, he made you steal- for his pleasure. He made you have sex with other girls- as punishment for your confession. For your fight. That’s why you ran, right? When Richelle did you the honor of killing-“ She gasped for air, before her head sagged, her eyes closing. Grey stood, his senses slowly coming to, his eyes finally moving from the wicked woman instead they settled on the petite woman behind her. Her black hair down in curls, framing her heart-shaped face, she stood weight evenly distributed her right hand clasping the needle, still in the witch’s neck. He inwardly groaned at himself, No matter what she does, I’ll  still love her. I’ll always love her.

  “Don’t thank me, and don’t bring this up later. When you’re ready, and only when you’re ready, will I be willing to hear your secrets.” Richelle spoke honestly, her golden eyes holding his with intent purpose. He gave a brisk nod in understanding and she returned it before removing the needle and brushing past him to set it back on the desk.

 

 

XXX

 

  The aura of the room was dark and pressed, effecting the whole building’s atmosphere. Marzell assumed her regular position shortly after arriving, pouring everyone a drink. The table was completely empty, swept clean by Richelle’s rapidly building rage. She was now pacing the kitchen, both hands tangled in her hair’s merciless grip. Ashton Grey was perched in a chair, his hands behind his head, eyebrows knitted together, eyes focused on the texture of the white ceiling. IZ was still immensely bothered by Hailey’s death, her blonde hair pulled up into a messy bun, her cheeks stained red from her tears. Her arms wrapped around her knees that were pressed to her chest, her black eyes closed. She wore baby blue sweats and clenched her eyes together, piercing her lips as another perfect drop of red blood escaped her closed eyes.

  The group jumped as the leather-bound was dropped into the middle of the table with a heavy thud. All eyes shifted to Richelle, except for Marzell who was now passing out glasses. “One of us has to read it.”

“Are you crazy?!” Marzell demanded, the glass hovering above Iz who reached up to snatch it from her grasp.

“The witch said she finished our story,” Richelle recapped, “So someone needs to read it.”

“Rich-“

“I know what I’m doing, thank you, Ashton.” She reasoned, “Look, I’ve got rules. It needs to be Ashton who reads it.”

“What?”

“Moxx-“

“Hear me out, if you go for his memories, you’re poisoned. Ashton reads and Ashton doesn’t say a word. He won’t hint at anything he reads. He won’t build her power.”

“But what-“

“We’re going to have to trust him,” She interrupted, looking directly at Iz and then sharing a hard look with Marzell, “He’s all we’ve got so suck it up.”

“Moxx, If he reads it, he can’t go back to the Chevelle’s. He has to stay a Seeth.” Iz pointed out, offering her empty cup to Marzell.

“Well honey, he kind of has to anyway, Chevellian law is very clear about how they fight, and ditching your buddies in battle is illegal and punishable by death. He remains loyal and dies or he retreats to a shady ally and lives. Those are his options.” All eyes turned on Ashton who swallowed loudly.

In one motion, he scooped up the book, “So if I find out the witch’s name, I’ll let you guys know,” He mumbled, leafing through the pages.

 

  It’d been about twenty solid minutes of reading. Richelle was now drinking directly from the bottle of bourbon, Marzell sat on the counter, starring at the timer on the stove, waiting intently while Iz stayed in her chair, now fast asleep. It was quiet, really quiet, everyone in their own world’s, so much so, that no one saw Iz’s black eyes shoot open, her mouth and throat opening widely as she gasped for the air her lungs couldn’t reach. She continued to gasp, the lack of oxygen adding to a pressing weight that rested on her rapidly beating heart. Richelle rolled her eyes at herself, seeing Iz flash through her vision- her eyes snapped back at her to see her clawing at her throat. “Iz? Iz!” She panicked, standing up and knocking over her chair. She was the first by her, placing her hands on her shoulders, “Iz!”

“My God!” Marzell gasped, her hands on each side of Iz’s face, looking deep into her eyes, “She’s dying. She’s suffocating.” Grey placed the book firmly on the table. His unblinking eyes on Iz. Feeling someone’s burning gaze on him, his eyes flickered to Richelle’s cold, hard golden eyes. He swallowed at the one word confirmed between the two. Witch.

  Richelle stood, snatching a riffle from the cupboard. “Moxx?” Marzell panicked, “Where are you going?” Without looking back, Richelle started down the hall, “MOXX!”

“S**t,” Grey mumbled, jumping from his chair and meeting Richelle at the stairs.

“I’m going to kill her. If you’d like a show, follow. If not, leave.” He locked his jaw, but slipped into line behind her.

  When they flipped on the basement lights, they found the witch intensely starring at her ankle-cuffs; the chains shaking, but not breaking. She was so focused; she didn’t seem them come in. She huffed before looking up at the desk. Slowly, the desk moved, sliding so the front was facing her. Her fluid red eyes sparked and a drawer opened, it’s contense rising into the air, a paper clip among them. Slowly, the paper clip began floating towards her. Richelle leaped into the air, clasping it tightly as Grey shoved the desk into place.

  The witch gave them a full-blown smile. “I was wondering when you’d show. Better late than never, I suppose.”

“Let her go.” Richelle barked.

“Who?” She asked, batting her eyelashes innocently.

Richelle forced a tight smile and cocked her gun, the witch laughed, “Alright honey, you want your girl? Whatever, I want freedom. Compromise.”

“You’re not getting free.”

Her annoying laughter bounced off all the walls, making both Richelle and Grey tense. Richelle raised the gun, aiming. “Honey, please, cut the act. WE both now you’ll do anything for your little goody two-shoes. She’s your conscience, the little angel on your shoulder, and you’ll sell your soul before she looses an eyelash.”

“Sorry, Richelle disregarded, cocking her head for a better angle, “I don’t make with Satan’s fan club.”
”Actually,” The witch rebutted, “You do.” She laughed then, her red eyes brightening with every word. “SO here’s the deal, you let me go, I let her go. Further down the road we’re going to meet, and you’re going to want to fire. You and your friends. I walk out, so does Jasmine.”

“Izabell.” Grey corrected.

“Whatever,” She snapped, “They’re both old, unoriginal and boring.” Richelle took a deep breath, lowering her gun and the witch flashed a knowing smile.

“Richelle, no.” Grey objected as she set her gun down. She gave him a brisk, emotionless glance before walking over to the witch. “Hurry dear, Snow White won’t wake up till I’m free.” Richelle gave her a hard look before snapping her chains. The witch dropped to her feet, rubbing her healed wrists.

 

  She flashed another smile before turning and running face first into Mr. Grey. “My, my, aren’t you sexy?” She complimented, taking a step back, “Oh, don’t be modest.” She cooed, her eyes raking shamelessly over him, his jaw locked, his yellow eyes hardening. “You know, if you promise to have little Ashton’s, I’ll write a sequel.” She winked and he tensed, his eyes flashing to Richelle. He didn’t care if she was linked to Iz, he wanted her dead. Richelle, unfortunately, shook her head; he cracked his knuckles, the sound echoing throughout the basement. The witch just smiled, shoving past him. “Don’t forget who writes the script.”

Author's Note

This one is super long, on my other sites I left it as two chapters Part One and Part Two, but on here, for you guys, I just shoved it all together. LOL. The next chapter is super short (I'll go back and edit later, just a forewarning)