Another New Adventure

1) Read 'A New Adventure' 2) Read 'A New Adventure Again'

Casually walking down the street, staring at the sky, wishing I owned a motorcycle and guess what happened? Exactly what I wanted to happen!

Enter: scream.

A huge piercing scream filled the night, nearly shattering my ear drums. I clapped my hand over my ears, grinning. Turning, I began catapulting down a street. The screams were definitely getting louder and my ears were starting to ring. A window along the long row of apartment buildings shattered and I let out a laugh that was drowned out by the huge scream. Finally, after turning down another street, I spotted her, a woman, her silver hair hanging to her waist, her white dress not helping her pale complexion at all and a street light making her shine. Her scream cut off abruptly as she saw me and I grinned because, of course, she hadn’t expected anyone to run toward the piercing scream. 
“Banshee.” I grinned. 
Unfortunately, annoyingly, preposterously, before I could ask my next question she killed me.

 

I woke up completely annoyed. I mean, really, she hadn’t even asked what I had wanted. I’d barely even gotten to say hello. Look where I was now. A cave. A very big cave. I mean, this cave was pretty big. Parts of it farther down seemed to be old subway tunnels. There were trashcans on fire everywhere as sources of light. I thought the banshees should invest in batteries but clearly they did not agree. I mean, there were also these huge bonfires with what looked like whole pigs roasting over them. Also some distinctly humanoid corpses. Others had things like tails and extra legs or arms. Demons. Banshees were milling about, laughing, talking, some younger ones fighting and all of them looking forward to dinner. There was another bonfire not to far from me, empty of meat, and I frowned at it, realizing they had been going to cook me. That would have been a terrible place to resurrect.
“Can you make fish fingers?” I inquired of the nearest banshee. 
She jumped several feet in the air, gasping. Once she’d reconnected with the earth she stared at me, her long black hair falling in her face. 
I sighed, realizing her shock. 
“You were going to eat me, weren’t you?” I asked. 
She continued staring. 
“English?” I asked. “Espanola? Deutsch?” 
“Ah…English…but, weren’t you...dead?” 
“Ya…” My eyes got wide, my face making an ‘isn’t that a bummer’ frown. “Sucks when that happens.” 
“Aby!” The banshee called, turning away from me in a slight panic.
I waited until everyone had finished screaming at each other. There were five banshees involved with this now and everyone seemed to be blaming Aby. 
“It wasn’t your fault.” I tried to say once, but their yelling covered my words and grated at my ears. 
Finally I threw a rock at one of them. They all turned to me, perplexed. I guess they thought I was just like the pig another group of them was now eating. 
“Can anyone make fish fingers?” I asked. 
Their faces gaped and then two of them raised their hands. 
“Excellent.” I smiled at them. “You two can make fish fingers and I-” I rummaged in my bag for a moment. “will supply the custard.” 
Nobody moved. They were still staring at me. 
“Ya ya ya,” I waved my hands at them. “I’m a demon with limitless lives, but!” I cut them all off. “I was looking for you. Why? Because I wanted to find a banshee that could make fish fingers. Then I saw this show where this really weird guy ate them with custard so I want to try.” 
Still nobody was moving. I got up, put my hands on my hips, and glared at them like I’d seen a mother do in the shops yesterday. Her kids had put the candy right back but it didn’t seem to work for me. 
“I won’t tell anyone about the cave. Honestly, I don’t even know how to get out. You can blindfold me and dump me in Chicago, America for all I care, but only after I get my fish fingers and custard.” 
Finally I seemed to be getting through to them. One banshee stooped and picked up the container of custard I’d gotten out of my bag. Another hurried off. Hopefully to make fish fingers. 
“How do you…” A banshee, Aby, asked. 
I shrugged. 
“I met this guy once, oak tree of a man, shot me in the head just to see if he could figure it out.” I rolled my eyes. 
Soon I had been introduced to dozens of banshees and seemed to be the cause of some excitement. For once it was good excitement. There was pork and beef and some questionable meat that I wasn’t entirely sure didn’t come from a uwi demon. It all tasted pretty good. Especially the fish fingers. I ate with a huge grin. 
“Okay, look.” I said at one point, waving a fish finger at the banshee next to me. “It’s not that I really know how to use it or anything but,” I pulled a demon gun out of my bag. “It was just sitting there and really, what right did they have to it?” 
The banshee beside me just looked at me with no idea what I was talking about. I sighed and looked back down at the demon gun I’d stolen from a couple of slayers last time I’d met them. The cavern had settled into groups and almost all of them seemed to revolve around me. People kept trying to hand me food and drink. The banshee was still staring at me. 
“I wanted the gun.” I told her. 
“Ohh!” She smiled, nodding and laughing. 
I didn’t think she spoke English. 
It was a few hours later-I think, I mean there wasn’t exactly a clock down there-when I thanked the banshee’s for their hospitality and pushed my way out of a hatch into the middle of a disused street. I brushed myself off, closed the lid and went whistling off into the day. That was when a policeman decided to start shouting at me. 
“Put the gun on the ground and raise your hands!” 
I jumped, looking over at the officer hiding behind his vehicle’s door. It looked like he’d spilled coffee over his shirt. 
“What are you-oh.”
I put the demon gun on the ground and raised my hands, stepping away from it. Rather nervously, the officer came out from behind his car door and had me kick the gun over to him. Once it was in his hand he seemed a lot surer of himself. Putting his gun away and holding tightly to mine, he cuffed me and directed me to the car. 
“Officer,” I tried to say but he shut the door on me. 
Once he was in the front of the car, the grill separating us, I leaned forward. 
“Officer, really. I mean, I’m seventeen. I think. Really, that gun isn’t even mine. I stole it.” 

Only after I said this did I realize it was not the best approach. 

“Seatbelts.” The officer said after saying a lot of senseless stuff on the radio. 
Soon we were well on the way to the police station. This may be an adventure I was unwilling to partake in. I’d even used the word ‘partake’ to show how much I didn’t want to. 
“Listen, I was kidnapped. Twice. I can take you to the address. They had the gun and I took it from them because I figured, hey, what are people like this doing with a gun like this. They locked me in a secret basement. Twice.” 
We were parked at the station now and the officer pulled me out of the car, pushing me from behind toward the double glass doors at the top of a few stairs. 

“I was having a perfectly good day.” I was informing the police officer as he brought me to a long, high desk where a man stood behind a grate. Behind him I could see two rows of other desks. Most of them had a lot of papers on them and unhappy looking men and women sorting through them. “I was having fish fingers with banshees. Do you know how long it took me to find banshees? Especially ones that could make fish fingers. These cuffs are really starting to hurt, could you take them off?” 
The man behind the grate hid a smile while the police officer reluctantly removed the handcuffs. Then he shoved me to one of the smaller desks and dumped me on one of his colleagues. He quickly retreated after that, maybe to change his shirt. I looked happily at the new policeman who was leaning slightly forward, reading the report the first guy had filled out at the big desk.
“Am I going to have to spend the night here?” I asked.
“Probably.” He murmured without looking at me. “Could I have your parents' names?”

“Sure.” 
He waited. I waited. He stared at me. I stared back. 
“What?” I asked at last. 
“Your parents’ names.” He said pointedly. 
“What about them?”
“What are they?” 
“I don’t know.” 
He leaned back, really unimpressed. I think he was deciding weather I was lying or not. 
“Can I have a motorcycle?” I inquired. 
“If you can get a license and buy one.” 
“I want a black one…that’s quiet…and cool.” 
“Do you?” 
“Yes.” I nodded confidently. “I knew someone once who said that nobody in their right mind would give me a motorcycle. I think she was wrong. I think they would give me a motorcycle if only to get me out of there faster.” 
“What’s your name?”
“Diana Crowe.” I told him.
“What’s your address?” 
“Wherever I happen to be at the time. Currently it’s this police station.” 
“You mean you’re homeless.” 
“No. I mean, I’m residing in this police station. You even said you’d give me my own cell for the night at least.” 
That was when the officer got annoyed with me. 
“This isn’t a game, missy.” 
I was shocked into not replying by the use of the word ‘missy’. Who uses that word? Who calls someone that? Really annoyed parents, that’s who. I decided he must have kids and told him so. He said to keep the subject on me. 
“I found two banshees that could make fish fingers last night.” 
That was when I was forced to breathe into a tube and pee into a cup and they were forced to accept that I was always like this. The officer stared at me, his head on his hand. 
“You’re wondering what to do with me, aren’t you?” I asked him.

He nodded. In answer to his question I stood up and tried to leave but he pulled me back down and threatened to taze me. When I pointed out that tazing me probably wasn’t legal he said it was. Because he was a police officer. I said a rude word and he told me to be quiet. 

“You want to know something?” 

“What?” He asked tiredly. It had been over an hour. 

“Diana Crowe isn’t even my real name. I made it up one day.” 
“Really?” 
“Yes.” 
“I think I know what to do with you.” 
When I asked what he was going to do he said he was gong to give me a trial about carrying a concealed weapon-never mind a fact that the weapon had not been concealed-then he was going to put me in an orphanage for troubled people. In response I quickly stood, snatched the gun from his holster, dove under the desk and shot myself. 

Okay, so look, the diving under the desk thing hadn’t been completely random. I mean, think about all the unfortunate people that would have seen my brain matter explode all over the floor and as much as I hated the feeling of being shot in the head it was worth it to get out of that extraordinarily boring situation. The morgue was a lot easier to walk out of than a police station. So when I left the general hospital in the clothes I’d stolen from the suitcase of some sleeping teenager with a lot of bandages nobody tried to stop me. Admittedly, I had to get a new backpack and I’d lost the demon gun, the fish fingers I’d saved and my favourite rock but, hey, I was walking around. 
My jaw dropped open. Quickly shutting it, I dove behind a pillar. Staring sneakily from behind it, I watched two people cross the hospital parking lot. Lara and Jeannie. This was a ridiculous amount of times to run into someone. I began sneaking around the pillar so they would always be on the other side of it when a hand clapped down my shoulder. I turned and sighed when I saw Mark. He called over the other two slayers. 
“You reported us to the police!” Lara yelled. 
“You did kidnap me.” I pointed out. “I was going to add murder but I figured, since I was right in front of them, they wouldn’t believe it.” 
“Do you know how many people Derek had to call to get them to drop it?” Lara demanded. 
“Six?” 
Lara gave me a look. 
“You seriously came to catch me at the morgue to yell at me?” 
“We came because Derek wants to see you again.” 
“Ah-no.” 

Then I ran. I’d been running a lot recently. Mostly because the custard I had eaten had been stolen from some unkindly gelap demon. So, unlike last time, nobody could catch me. I darted through the heavy traffic outside the hospital. Once on the other side I catapulted down the road, streaming past a school, a McDonald's and a bunch of buildings I had no idea what to make of. I dashed through the traffic again and headed back the way I’d come. I ran across the student parking lot then into the school. An office lady gave me a very perplexed look and I panted. 

“Look, I know I’m meant to be in class but now there’re these people after me and they don’t go here so could you please do something about that?” 
She gave me permission to hide in the office under a desk while she pretended I hadn’t come in here. 
“Thanks.” I said a few minutes later when she came back. “I’ll just be off to class.” 
“Hold on, what’s your name?” The lady asked. 
“It is not my name you are looking for.” I waved my hand in front of her face in a Jedi sign. It didn’t work. 
Run. 

I bolted back out of the school and, of course, those evil slayers were still there. As Lara and Jeannie each took an arm and Mark struggled with my legs, I compared their evilness to beans. I hated beans. Even worse, red apples. On a scale of beans to red apples they were cucumber. I shuddered. The cucumbers carried me all the way down the street and into the hospital parking lot without anyone stopping them. True, we got some strange looks but nobody actually did anything. I was thrown into the back seat of the car and, for the second time in my life, squashed between Jeannie and Mark. 

“Seriously, what is it with you cucumbers?” I asked. 
Mark rolled his eyes. “Derek just has-”
“I don’t like Derek.” I said, my arms crossed, my gaze angrily averted from him. 
“A proposition-”

“He shot me in the head.” 
“For you.” 
Staring moodily out the windshield ahead of me, I resolved to not speak a word. This amazing feat had been tried exactly three times. Once in the presence of the slayers and that had been the only time I had managed it. Minutes passed and I was quite pleased with the progress I was making. 
“Is she being quiet?” Lara asked incredulously, glancing in the review mirror. 
“Ahhhh! I can’t take it anymore! Turn on the radio, strike up a conversation about how nice that tree looks. Has anyone seen my talking fish?” 
“Fish?” Jeannie asked. 
“I had a fish. One of those really weird ones that have wood stuck to their side. It sang ‘jingle bells’.” 
“You’re joking.” Mark laughed. 
“Seriously. I made it sing whenever it got too quiet. There was this really awkward time when I was with a yeti and-”
“Diana!” Mark clapped his hands around my arms. 
“What?” 
“You talk too much.” 
“I know.” 
“Half of what you say doesn’t make any sense.” 
“You’re just not keeping up.” 
“What will it take to make you be quiet?” 
“Some taffy. Like the really sticky sort that makes my teeth stick together. I might not be totally quiet, I can still mumble, but you won’t have any idea what I’m saying and eventually it will get very hard to breath and-”
“We don’t have any taffy. What else?” 
I shrugged. 
The car pulled up outside the same tiny brick house. I was getting really annoyed with these slayers always popping up in my business without my permission. When I want to be kidnapped by slayers I will give them a call but now, well I had been having fun. For the billionth time I was walking out of a morgue. I was going to find a new backpack, a new favourite rock, a new talking fish. Maybe I’d get a radio instead of a fish. The point was, I did not want to be here. Mark pulled me out of the car. 
Derek was waiting in the hallway when we came in. The house was quiet, unlike last time when a teenager had been blasting music. 
“Where’s Mary?” I asked. 
“She’s moved.” 
“Oh.” That would explain the quietness. The teenager had been Mary’s daughter.
Derek brought us all into the kitchen where there was tea and biscuits waiting. I immediately swallowed three biscuits and downed a cup of tea. Coming back to life gives me an appetite. 
“I have a proposition for you.” Derek said once Mark and Lara had positioned themselves in the doorway behind me and Jeannie was pouring me more tea. 
I eyed oak tree man warily. 
“I will not shave your pet poodle.” I said seriously. 
“I don’t have a pet poodle.” 
“That’s a shame.” 
“I want you to work-”
“No. I hate work. Fun. I like fun. Do you want to play twister? Nah. You’re probably terrible at-”
Derek nodded to Mark who squeezed a hand against my mouth to shut me up. 
“I want you,” Derek continued. “To be a slayer.” 
I licked Mark’s hand. He jumped back, wiping it on his shirt and uttering enraged half sentences. 
“Why?” I asked Derek, taking another bite of biscuit. 
“You can’t die, you’re a demon. This means you’re the perfect person to send into risky or undercover missions.” 
“You want me to spy on my own kind.” I said flatly, putting down the biscuit. 
“You don’t have a kind.” Derek reminded me. 
“I’m a demon just like you said.” 
“You’re the only demon like you. When you die you come back.” 
“Just because you haven’t met them doesn’t mean they’re not real.” I growled and tried to get past Lara and Mark but they blocked me and I stopped with a sigh, looking over my shoulder half heartedly as Derek began to speak again.
“You’re alone, Diana. You’ve made up a story. A past, an age, a name and a family. You know nothing more about yourself than we do. Work for us. You have an eternity, what’s the harm in helping us for a little while?” 
My muscles quivered, locking me in place, my back to Derek. It didn’t matter, I told myself, if Diana Crowe wasn’t my real name. It didn’t matter that I only thought I was seventeen and it didn’t matter that I had eternity to spend with myself, alone. 
“What do I get for it?” I asked at last. 
“A place to stay, money, food.” 
“I want a motorcycle.” I declared, turning back around, a wicked grin on my face. “A black one, that’s quiet…and cool.”