[WHERED YOUR HEART GO?] my nanowrimo

[macheo]

Adrian Frost was never normal. Born into one of the most powerful families in the Southern Galaxy he was expected to be a great man, who would do great things. Instead he is a downtown playboy, who would rather party than work. Well, a playboy with the ability to change peoples emotions. Who felt misunderstood and alone in the world. That was until he met Martin Abley, who gave him a purpose to his life.

But Mr. Abley brings more danger than Adrian could ever realise. He is thrown into a world of lies and hate, a world where the black crow is always watching.

P R O L O U G E

I couldn’t hear a thing over his laughter. The harsh, horrid sound filled my ears, ripping away my soul with its dreaded tune. I struggle, weak and pitiful. If only father could see me now I think in the darkness, before joining in with his bitter laugh. I hear him stop, feel his blue eyed stare and the pain of a sudden kick to my groin, pushing me to the wall. Tears, blood and sweat blind me so I just blink in silence as he grips the bonds on my hands, tightening them. The pain I should be feeling is nothing compared to my aching heart. I smile, small and sad, stumbling forward after him. I am rewarded with the feel of a knife hitting my cheek and let out a dry cough, the liquids bitter taste on my lips.

It was then I fell, hitting the floor with a thump. I had been stupid but it had at least sped up the process. The wound in my chest had reopened, soaking my white, medical outfit a vibrant red. Someone, somewhere panics. I hear a shout of protest, fingertips brushing over my skin. I blink, trying to figure out what was happening. Someone was being pushed away and even though I try to follow them I can’t even move. Instead I just shake and shiver, letting out a small, moaning noise. I lean down, wiping my face on my shoulder, insides clenching at another shock of pain.

Things become clearer, the room, the house, him. Where I thought there was only one more person in the room, I was wrong. Because he was stood there, wearing a blue pinstripe suit, green-grey eyes filled with some strange emotion and his hand, gripping at a small piece of crumpled paper. I smile, staring up at him from the floor. Then, before I had a chance to think over my last words, I whisper “Where’d your heart go?”

Silence.

Before a gun clicks, a bullet screeches in my ear and, for the second time, Martin Abley tries to kill me. For the first time, he suceeds.

[macheo]

C H A P T E R S O M E T H I N G

(i'm writing this based on the parts I want to write >< So it'll be a bit choppy but eventually this'll have order. Probably this is chapter 4-6 xD Depending on how i'm going to make Addy meet Martin)

The night was beautiful, stars shone like diamonds in the skies and the two orange moons of Oromis glimmered in the darkness. It was a nice change to yesterday’s weather, where dismal clouds had covered everything in a rain. Now small puddles of the rain had been left behind. Earlier I had seen little Molly dancing in them, her brown ringlets bouncing, her cheeks rosy. I decided I would miss the quaint little family when I had left. They were so happy living here, their little cottage in the Elias Plain lands. Still, I had to keep them safe and everywhere I seemed to go danger followed me. So the quicker I got away from them the better.

Now I was sat quietly on the window sill, eyes gazing out at the little garden. Little shrubs lined the cobbled garden path, a small gap left in between one of them leading off onto the little grassy area. There, in the center was the massive apple tree, its fruits looking ready to be harvested. Attached to its branch a swing, which Molly often played on. That night though the garden’s only inhabitants was the house cat, Mecho, who was happily chasing some fireflies.

I grinned, pushing open the window to let in a soft, welcomed breeze. Stupid beast. Was all I could think as the creature toppled head first toward the ground, shaking its head in surprise. Behind me someone laughed softly and I turned, just as surprised as the tabby, only to see Martin looking inquisitively at me.

He was stood, leaning against the wall, hair a mess and eyes tired. A deep blue dressing gown pulled around him, a contrast against his soft, pale skin. My heart slowed it’s startled pace and I gave him a soft smile, even though my insides squirmed, as it always did when both of us were alone in a room.

He seemed to sense my unease and gave me a silent, worried look. “Are you alright?” He queried, touching my shoulder, a comforting gesture. “Never better” I replied, giving him a cheeky wink, praying it wasn’t as hastily replied as I thought it was. For a moment he remained silent, watching me with that god damn look. The look which I could never work out. Then he nodded, too swiftly I noticed and he walked away, moving over to his bed. “You better get some sleep” He said, like a parent talking to a child.

For some reason I was oddly hurt.

On the outside though I nodded and, after closing the window, fell down onto my bed. The sheets soft against me skin. I couldn’t help but stare as Martin got under his own covers; our beds were right next to each other after all. It was just I could never work him out and it made me feel slightly… Well, slightly something. Just odd. Different. I rolled onto my side, propping my head up on my hand, so I could watch him. For awhile he didn’t seem to notice but finally whispered a curious “What?”

“Have you ever killed someone?” I asked suddenly. It had been a question going over my head for days now because even though I trusted him with my life when he had faced Xander, he had looked so ready to pull the trigger. Strangely it didn’t scare me though just made me respect him more, made me curious of why he would have wanted me to help him in the first place.

There was a calm, well calculated pause before he answered simply “Yes.” I frowned in the darkness; he had said it so easily like he didn’t care what I thought. No. It wasn’t that he didn’t care; it was the sound of someone who had done this all before. A person who sometime, somewhere had been asked the exact same question. For a moment both of us remained silent, even though questions plagued my thoughts. Then he asked, calm and collected as always “Are you afraid?” I stared at him, shocked. Why should I be? I shook my head and then yet again asked one of those questions which was just slightly inappropriate.

“Who did you first kill?”

It was his time to be slightly shocked and this time I could tell. A little crease appearing on his forehead, as it always did when he was worried or shocked about something. He lay, seemingly thinking the question over then gave me another simply reply. “Cade”

“Cade?” I repeated, questioning in my tone.

“Yes” He whispered, eyes closed, face tense. He was too still, too quiet. It just didn’t look right, like he was screaming within himself for telling me this vital piece of information.

“Who was he?” I asked, solemn. Whoever he was, it was hurting the other young man to talk about it but I wanted to know. It seemed important somehow.

No reply came. There was just the shuffle of the other rolling onto his other side, letting out a small sigh. I watched for a moment before lying down, staring in silence at the ceiling, listening to the sound of Martin’s slow, continuous breathing. I was sure that as I turned over onto my other side, slowly drifting to sleep, a crow watched from the window, black eyes gleaming. Before I fell into darkness.

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Something was wrong.

I could feel Martin’s hands on my skin, shaking me, scratching down my arm. And while I wanted to wake up I stayed paralyzed, stuck in a dream like state, my eyes watching as he looked upon me, worried and urgent. The only problem was I couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, just watch as he screamed insanities in my ear. Then, as if someone had woken me I could hear the shouts of my name on the air, the feel of his fingertips bruising my arms.

I gasped a breath, sitting up. “What’s going on?” I breathed, grabbing his arm and shaking it, as if it would get me the answer quicker.

I got no reply though, just felt myself be pulled forward, my foot caught on the suitcase on the floor and I stumbled forward, hitting my companions back with a thump. I cringe and pull the older man round, giving him a hard eyed stare. “What’s going on?” I whisper, breath coming out in gasps, hand still on his arm.

I hear a bang, the window shattering into a thousand pieces, each glittering in the morning sunlight.

“We’re under attack” He says, pulling me out the door. As always there is a gun in his hand, face hard and emotionless. He was just about to pull me down the stairs when I hear the sobbing of Molly, the cry of Miss Devonthorpe and another screech of a bullet. I freeze and stare at him. Then I whisper “We have to get them out” He stares back at me, face raging, his own hand practically tearing at my arm. Then, as always he replies oh, so simply “No.”

I growl, uncharacteristically so and with one silent command send a blast of hate and sorrow in his direction before punching him around the face. He falls, tumbling down the stairs. I watch, horrified at my actions before turning away, running down the hallway and in the direction of Molly’s room. Bursting in I hear a startled whimper and stare in the direction of the quivering sheets. “Shh” I whisper “It’s me Adrian” The girl’s head peaks from the covers, her bottom lip wobbling, tears staining her pale face. “Where’s Mommy?” She asks and I frown at her innocence, Miss Devonthorpe was probably dead.

Another shot rings around the little house and by some amazing means I knows it’s Martin’s.

I pick her up in her arms, telling her to be a brave girl and be as quiet as she possibly can. Then I slowly move my way down the hall and down the stairs. Someone grabs my arm and shoves me out the open door. I glance back, only to see three dead bodies, the little girl’s mother dead on the kitchen floor and two anoyomus men laying next to her, both with a bullet through their heads. I gag, clutch the now screaming child closer and pratically fall out the door, Martin’s hand on my arm, leading the way.

And once again, we were on the run.

[macheo]

C H A P T E R S O M E T H I N G

For the whole time we had trekked across the quiet, never ending green of the Elias Plains, Martin had remained silent, jaw clenched, hand gripping his gun just that little bit too tight. While little Molly stumbled on beside me, face pale, tears forever streaming down her cheeks. And there I was, stuck in the middle, not knowing what to say to either of them. Once of twice the silence was broken, when I had asked if Molly wanted to be carried and even then I had only got a solemn nod in reply. While the blonde haired man’s pace never ceased, eyes trained on the distance, not caring when the little girl fell over and needed helping up.

Finally we had stopped to sit under a large tree. There Martin had stalked off across the plains, searching for something, as always. While I pulled in Molly’s shaking form into a one armed sort of hug, her leaning against my side, telling her to get to sleep. She was draped in my dressing gown, while I sat bare-chested, only a flimsy pair of pajama bottoms to keep myself warm. I was sad I hadn’t got up earlier unlike Martin who was the only one fully dressed.

I sighed, tightened my grip around Molly’s fragile form and let my head fall against the tree we were both leaning on, hoping to get some sleep.

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A gun clicked and something pressed hard to my head. I froze, eyes shooting open, only to see Martin staring intently at me, gun firmly in his grip. Behind him a fire roared and little Molly slept beside it, still draped in my dressing gown. As for me I was pressed hard agaisnt the bark, the wood biting into my skin and a gun to my head. My breath caught short, my heart picked up its speed and I whispered a hesitant “Martin…”

He stared; grey eyes blazing then in one swift movement the gun hit my cheek, a violent movement. It burned and I stared, my gaze not faltering as my heart ached. Whether it was because of its frantic pace or the feeling of hurt I couldn’t decide. No, I didn’t care. All I could do was try and swallow, my throat dry. Try to make my lips move and say something, anything but all I could see was his hard eyed stare. And I almost thanked him when he spoke, no snarled first.

“You fucking bastard! What did you think you were doing?” He kicked me and I stared in disbelief. Where was the Martin I knew? I felt anger pound within me and stood, not caring how the gun was still trained on my head. Clenching my fist I whispered in reply, telling myself not to get too angry. “I was getting out Molly! And where do you think you get the right to talk to me like I’m a child? I thought you understood me Martin!”

“You acted like a child, so why shouldn’t I treat you like one?”

I stared then, still calmer than the other man I replied “If I am such a child why don’t you kill me? After all if I’m such a child why would I be any help to you?” I continued looking at him, watching as his finger wavered on the trigger, watched as his face never faltered from its blank mask. I grabbed his arm, shaking it slightly then spat in his face “Do it!”

Behind him Molly started crying and I stared at him, fingers digging into his arm. The gun moved away and he glared at me in silence before whispering “Why would I want to waste bullets on someone like you?” Before he pulled away from my grasp, disappearing into the darkness. Molly stared at me and I kicked the tree, jumping as a bird flew from its branches. I didn't have to check to know it was a black crow. The black crow. Yet again staring at me before it turned away, lifting into the sky, letting out a mocking caw.

Strangley I thought it was saying, almost time.

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Let’s just say it’s day two of the silence and while it isn’t as uncomfortable as I expected it to be there is still an air of something between the three of us. The only problem is even my years of studying being a psychologist can’t work it out. So instead I follow on, Molly trailing behind me, Martin leading the way. And currently I don’t even know what we are running from but I don’t want to ask and I probably wouldn’t enjoy the answer anyway.

Still I was thankful Martin had grabbed some supplies before he had left. The morning after the ‘incident’ (as I referred to it) he had chucked me a bland, grey t-shirt. I had muttered a thank you which earned me another hardened glare and then we were off again, trekking across the never ending green fields. The sky was a beautiful blue hue and the odd bird flew by. I was very much welcoming of the birds, it made me feel more comfortable, knowing there was more than just the three of us out in the bare landscape.

We were heading to the city of Elei, which held no real interest for me. My father had been there once, probably getting off with its street whores and committing dark deeds than doing ‘work business’. He had said it was a beautiful city, which probably meant dingy and dark. He had also told me it had been named after it’s creator Elei who had discovered and built the city, then had discovered the great stretching plains of green grass and had named them Elias, after his son.

But I didn’t care much for stories, not now anyway. Because all of this crap was too real and I didn’t know how to cope with it. After all the only company I had to talk to seemed to have taken up ignoring me. So I just thought the days through, over and over.

Sadly, time went no faster and we continued walking, the steady beat of our footsteps the only sound to listen to.

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“Stop!” Someone roared and I froze, catching hold of Molly’s hand, pulling her closer to my side. Meanwhile I could see Martin pull out his gun, holding it in front of him and, as always, ready to fire. It was late evening now and a beautiful sunset bathed everything in red but I didn’t care, I was hungry, tired and I had a throbbing headache that wouldn’t go away. “State your business!” A deep voice roared and I stood, stock still, knowing whoever it was, was stood right behind me.

I was thankful when I heard Martins ice cold voice respond with a simple “Just passing through” There was silence, a suffocating silence and I didn’t know what to do. Just stood there with little Molly shaking and whimpering at my side. We were stood in the middle with the two people who had guns, which had to be one of the most dangerous positions you could be in.

Then the coarse voice spoke again and everything happened at once “Liar.” The sound of the shot gun echoed hollowly around the field and I stared as a bullet buried itself in Martins chest. The pistol slipped from his finger tips landing with a thud on the floor then he, himself, fell. Blood soaked his light blue t-shirt and he lay, bathed in the horrid red light of the sun.

Molly let out a horrid cry and I stumbled forward, falling to the floor, where his barley breathing form lay. Gingerly I touched his chest. Heart hammering against my chest. Vision blurring. I feel sick, watching him, laying there, blood gushing from his chest. I swallow and turn, staring at the man behind me. Then, I’m suddenly using Martin’s ice cold tone and cannot help let my emotions push out of me, harder and more disorientating than ever before. “Get him help!” I stare, hands pushing on his chest, hoping to stop the blood but his heartbeats fainter than ever. Thump, thump, thump against my hand, fading and fading. There are tears in my eyes and all I can feel is the material of his t-shirt and my hands are red. This is my fault, my fault. I should have jumped, should have stopped him, should have been braver. “Help him!” I’m screaming and I can’t see and it hurts. Burns. There’s blood in my mouth and I don’t know why.

Molly’s crying and he’s not breathing. He should be breathing. Or told me something, like on those movies. Last words and all that shit. I can’t care, there are hands on my shoulders, pulling me back and I’m crying and I can’t feel. My head hurts. I scream, something, I don’t know what. There’s blood on my hands. Hands on my shoulders. Shaking, shaking, shaking. And he’s not breathing. Red hands, red sunset, red blood- darkness. And I’m falling, falling, falling and I can’t let go. Not yet. Not now-

[macheo]

C H A P T E R S O M E T H I N G

It’s too bright and I don’t know where I am. The walls are white and the door is white and the sheets are white. Everything’s bright and white and cheery. I am staring at the ceiling, which is too blank. My hands are gripping the sheets (the white sheets) and I can’t feel them even though I know what I am doing. My knuckles are white, my face pale and I’m laying, staring at the blank ceiling. More importantly I know I am not alone in the room. For while everything else is so damn white, a black crow sits on the bedpost, staring with its usual intensity. I don’t exactly know how it’s there but at the same time I do.

I sit up and smile at the creature, which turns its head, giving a small subtle suggestion that it is smiling as well. Then, I’m crawling forward like I’m a child again, fingers outstretched, eyes wide. The creature hops away and I whisper “Why are you following me?” the beast stills for a moment before fluttering its wings in harsh, quick way. I crawl forward again, hand grabbing onto the bedpost, the other reaching out, yearning to touch the strange creature. This time it does not move and lets me softly stroke its feathers. It caws, loud and strange. Before bouncing up and down the bedpost, wings flapping, eyes blazing. “Red blood! Red blood!” It screams and I reach out to calm it. But there’s blood on my hands and the beast is laughing. Then it’s holding something, a bullet in its beak.

It’s too dark and I still don’t know where I am. It’s black and cold and I all I can hear is the birds mocking laughter. Saying “Why save him? Why save him?” Then I can feel it’s wings, beating past, blowing wind onto my face. It’s whispering “Bearer, Bearer, beware the bearer!” And I’m no longer falling, I’m fading and there’s blood on my fingertips and the crow is circling my head. Everything fades away.

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