Chapter 2

Oh.. the old changeroo. haha. This is now in Zander's POV. Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 2

A dark cloth covered my eyes, blocking out the sunlight from anywhere that I was. I kicked and screamed at anyone that happened to grab me. A few times my stomach flopped forcing me to bend over and hurl. Finally after what seemed like hours of pure struggle from hand to hand I was solidly placed. My hands and legs were tied tightly with an itchy rope. When there was no more noise that could be heard for a long ways away I sat down. I kicked my feet together trying to make the rope loose so that somehow I could get it off. A light appeared through the dark cloth wrapped around my head and scream after scream came into what apparently was a room. Screams escaped from my throat trying to find help any way that I could. A girl screamed and landed on me. She didn’t weigh much of anything. She quickly hopped off and sat next to me. I turned my back to her and our hands laced together. Together she and I screamed as loud as we could, trying to get someone anyone’s attention. The sound of skin smacking skin echoed the room and the girl whimpered. Suddenly a think fist clocked me across the face. My nose cracked and blood poured from it into my mouth below. My hand laced tighter with the girls and I fell into complete darkness.

 

Whimpers came from all around me. There were only a few voices talking, but they were so quiet I couldn’t make out what they were saying.  I had fallen over and was lying on cold cement. The blood had dried below my nose and cracked as I tried to move my mouth. “Help,” I asked anyone around me? I heard someone move and they helped me sit up. Their hands grabbed my biceps tightly and held me steady. My eyes didn’t adjust right away.  The sun was perfectly set above us, we were outside. Slowly I began to open my eyes. When they had fully open all the way the people around me gasped.

“What?” I asked quietly. My eyes went to the guy above me. His dark hair was longer, a little lower than his ears, and it hung messy all over his head. His silver eyes pierced through me as he assessed who I was.

“Who are you?” A voice came from behind him. He held out his hand and I grabbed it. He helped me up onto my feet. From behind him came a young girl. Her auburn brown hair was sprawled across her small shoulders in thick curls. Each little ringlet sprawled from the top of her head in a perfect spiral. The thick hair ruptured out of her head like a fountain exploding beautifully and sprawling out in a graceful manner. Her tiny thin hand cupped around the man in front of me. He stood about a foot taller than me. His broad shoulders stood hovering over me. The shadow cast from his body stood about a hundred yards it seemed like.

The girl holding onto him walked around the Hulk of a man. Her silver eyes filled with wonder. There was something so graceful about her. Almost like a ballerina. She wore a black t-shirt with a pair of dark blue shorts. Her dark sneakers covered her tiny feet. They looked old and worn. Her legs were toned beautifully with each muscle accentuated beautifully. She had to be a ballerina. She spoke again, “Who are you?” Her soprano melodic voice completely filled my body and I closed my eyes letting it radiate through me. I breathed in slightly to puff up my chest and got the whiff of her entrancing floral scent. Lilacs, from what I can remember. There weren’t a lot of those in Lincoln City. Immediately I was put under her spell.

I opened my eyes to see her only inches from me. Her soft hands touched my elbows and her bright silver eyes looked up into my face. Her long nose led to two flawlessly raspberry lips. My eyes fell over her angelically sculpted face. I longed to reach out and touch her wonderfully colored high cheek bones. Everything about her was just right. Never in my life had I seen such a beautiful creature. She couldn’t be real. I mean look what was happening to me. This couldn’t actually be happening.

Her head spun to look at the large man standing behind her. The lilac scent engulfed me again almost putting me into a coma. Finally I had gotten the strength to speak, “My name is Zander Khorry.” Her head whipped back around filling me with the floral scent once more. I breathed in deeply hoping to never forget it.

She crunched her dark brown brows together and she thought back into her memory. I saw the light go off in her mind and she again returned to the present, “As in Doctor Rylan Khorry?” she asked melodically. Her thumbs pressed lightly into the corners of my elbows. I didn’t speak quickly in fear she would pull away.

“Yes, that’s my father.” Her head spun again to the man behind her and she backed up. I took a step forward mechanically but stopped myself halfway.

“You don’t look like a Khorry.”

I shook my head and looked at the behemoth man behind her, “He’s not my biological father.”

“Collin Hanks.” The large man said in a deep low voice. His chest puffed out as if he was the leader of the pack, I believed it.

Again my head shook, “No, I don’t know who that is. My dad’s last name used to be Hanks though. Collin could be his brother but I’m not sure he has brothers.” My shoulders shrugged and my gaze went back to the beautiful woman. The sun hit behind her head giving her a certain glow that made me weak in the knees. My nose searched again for her scent. Hoping it would cross my path once more.

She spoke again luckily, “Shiloh Hanks, then.”

I nodded, “Yup that’s him.”

The two looked at each other and started to speak, “He looks like him.” The girl said.

“Sorry, but who are you and exactly why am I here?”

They both turned back to me and eyed me over once. I felt suddenly like they knew me more than I actually knew myself. “You don’t know who we are?” The goddess asked quietly.

With a swift shake of my head I answered her. My brain racked through memory after memory trying to find something that reminded me of once meeting them. Nothing came to mind at all. Again I shook my head as if I didn’t answer once before. The oversized man spoke deeply, “My name is William Norman and this is my cousin Abigail Oreson.”

“Nice to meet you,” I said kindly and I stuck out my hand. They both looked at it as if it was garbage. I slowly folded it back behind me and interlocked it with the other.

“You don’t recognize our name?” Abigail spoke with an intense look on her face.

I sighed, “Listen I don’t know who you are. Actually I’m beginning to figure out that you know more about me than I ever dreamed over knowing about myself and it’s kind of creepy. I think I’ve been kidnapped and now I’m being interrogated. I’m sorry that I don’t know you, but could you be so kind as to fill me in.” One of my eyebrows rose at the end of the sentence and I stuck my head forward looking for a reaction or answer of any kind.

“We’re the Oreson family children, we’re heroes. Our parents know each other.”

A smile spread across my face, “Heroes?” I asked. Laughter began to rise inside of my chest “Like super heroes, with the tights and spandex? You fly around with capes and save the day.” I couldn’t hold the laughter back. My hand grabbed my stomach and I doubled over in laughter. “I really must be dreaming. Heroes?”

The big guy ended my enjoyment with a quick shove almost landing me flat on my backside. “You think it’s so funny? Haven’t you noticed that your eyes are the same as ours?”

“Silver eyes aren’t that uncommon. One time I met someone who had violet eyes, which was pretty cool. Silver compared to violet is nothing.” I snorted another laugh.

“Hold on.” Abigail said and she turned around. The bulky man stepped in front of me blocking my view. “Zachary, come here please?” She called lightly and I heard footsteps patter on the cement patch we were standing on. The man stepped aside and Abigail stepped forward. Under her arm was something I didn’t’ expect. A boy about six or seven stood under Abigail. His dark grey eyes looked up to her face. She pointed towards me and his eyes pierced straight through mine. I froze. I knew this face, but it wasn’t the face that got me. Kids shouldn’t actually have white hair, especially not like this. The boy wore his hair long to about his shoulders. It was filled with curls much like Abigail’s but not near as tight. No, actually it was almost identical to my dad ,Rylan.

I sucked in a deep breath and Abigail spoke, “Zander Khorry, meet your cousin Zachary Oreson.”

Author's Note

Anything helps!