Anyway, on Christmas Eve, I did it - I've written over 50,000 words of Wolfbane! I can't believe it! I never thought I would get this far, but now finishing it seems in reach. Thanks for your support as well but remember I could always do with some more (hint hint)
In other news, I submitted a story called Death's Card to a magazine in the States. I've not posted it here (yet) but you can read it by clicking this link - http://www.writeandshare.co.uk/story/deaths-card/ if this story gets publish by the magazine I get about $100! WooHoo!
So, enough chit-chat, time for your belated present. Here is The Feral Boy 3. It isn't as action filled as the last two, but I hope you enjoy it. And don't worry - Number 4 is coming up! I also just revamped my Me! page - take a look!
The Feral Boy 3
Amelia rolled over in her bed and groaned. Her head was pounding and her legs ached. She must have had too much chocolate last night. She groaned again, and wearily sat up, her back against the wall. There was clang. Mum must have dropped the kettle again. Smiling, she raised her arms above her head. “Jessica? Are you there?”
There was a laugh and a deep voice said, “Dunno who you’re talking about, but she ain’t here, missus. Ain’t no one here bar you, me and your little boyfriend.”
Amelia’s eyes snapped open and she jerked backwards. Her eyes widened and she let out a tiny squeak of fear. She was in a cell. Grey bricks lined the walls, tally’s and symbols etched into the concrete, letters and dates and names. The smell of urine seemed to clog the room and she could see flies hovering over a hole dug into the stone floor. There was a thick brown stain next to it. Amelia suppressed the urge to gag and instead looked down at her feet.
She was sitting on a bench, made of rotting, maggoty wood and her feet were dirty with grime. She wasn’t
wearing any shoes. She lifted her foot off the ground and then stopped. There was a bracelet of silver wrapped around her left ankle, attached to thin, winding chain. Amelia traced its path up the bench and saw that it, in turn, was linked to an iron hook on the wall. Amelia stared at it, transfixed. There was something about it, something primitive. She had never seen anything like it before. She thought prisoners were locked up with the new lasered cuffs, not these rusty chains.
Amelia reached out to touch it, when a loud crack shot the air. Amelia whipped round and saw a tall man standing outside the bars. He had long, shaggy brown hair, covered with a black top hat. A patchwork cloak was draped around his shoulders, hiding a mismatched suit. His hands were covered with navy, fingerless gloves and a bullwhip trailed from his fingers. Amelia winced at the sight of it. The man smiled, showing a row of broken, yellow gravestones.
“Wouldn’t do tat if I was you, missus. Electrified it is.” He spoke with a Cockney accent, something Amelia rarely heard in her parent’s circles. The man cracked his whip again, the tip of it snaking its way through the bars and brushing the chain. There was sizzle and a spark shot up, landing on Amelia’s cheek. She clasped a hand to it, and the man laughed.
Amelia frowned. “How dare you! My father is the governor, you know! He could put you out of a job! You, you, you imbecile!”
The man stopped laughing. He pressed his face up against the bars and snarled. “Look ‘ere, missus. I’m the guard, and by ‘eck am I a lowlife scum. But at least I respect the law. You’re just a feral. A stinking primate. You go around sayin’ your guvner’s daughter? There’s gonna be trouble.” He cracked his whip and took a step back. “Now, you shut up, or you’ll boyfriend’ll get it.” He pointed at the corner and sneered.
Amelia looked round and gasped. There was a figure in the corner, his head resting on the wall. His body was bruised and the tip of a dart stood out of his neck. His chest fell and rose slowly, jumping around at sporadic intervals. Amelia shuffled forwards on the bench. “J-Javen?”
The guard laughed and cracked his whip again. “Aww, is the little girlie gettin’ all sentimental? Does she want her wittle boyfriend to get up?” The man laughed harder. “He got up about an hour before you did, missus, and when he saw you he got all angry. Started shoutin’. We ‘ad to sedate ‘im again.” The man grinned and his whip shot through the bars, catching Amelia’s foot. She jerked backwards and whimpered. “Just you wait, little girlie. Couple of hours and you’ll be shipped to the Unregistered compound. Do you know what they do there? Eh?”
Amelia shook her head.
“They cage you up, like animals! And you know what? Occasionally they take you out to show nursery kids how disgusting you are!” He laughed and Amelia felt a tear trickle down her cheek. Javen...
There was a bang further down the corridor and the man turned round, the tail of his whip poking through the bars. “’ello? Hollands, is that you?”
“No, it is not!” Amelia lifted her head. She could recognize that voice anywhere.
The guard turned round, his face pale and gaunt. His dull blue eyes seemed to sink in his skull.
“D-dad?” he stuttered. Evidently, he recognized the voice too. Well, who wouldn’t? He was the voice of the country, the voice of Skyy. The voice of the Governor. Amelia tilted her head. She could smell his cologne from here, that musty, almost sweet smell that followed him wherever he went. “Amelia!”
There was the sound of running footsteps and a man appeared in front of the cell, almost banging into the guard. He was wearing a black three-piece suit, and draped around his shoulders was a fur jacket. Wolf, it looked like, with its white hairs dappled with specks of gray and smudges of brown. He was pale, and his thin lips were set in a pout. He looked at the cell, his brown eyes studying every corner of it. They rested on Javen for a moment, before quickly snapping to Amelia. She could see him take in her bare feet, her fetters, her dirty clothes. His face darkened and he turned to the guard, who was quivering in the corner.
“Let my daughter go,” he hissed, his teeth clenched.
The guard stared at him for a moment, wide-eyed and petrified. “L-let ‘er go?”
Amelia’s dad stepped forward and pressed his hand against the man’s chest. “Let her go!”
“Ok! I-I just need some identification...”
“YOU NEED IDENTIFICATION! You know fine plain well who I am, Mr Clark. And yes I know who you are. Now, let my daughter go, or so help me, I will get you locked up in the feral compound yourself!”
The guard nodded vigorously and reached towards his belt. There was the jangle of keys and he fumbled with them, moving through each piece of shaped metal slowly. Shaking, he picked one out and stuck it into the steel lock on the bars. He turned it and with a click, the door swung open.
Amelia leaned forward as her dad walked into the room. His teeth were still clenched and he looked as angry as ever, but none of that mattered. Her dad had come for her. She folded her arms round his waist and breathed in the unmistakable aroma that surrounded him. “Dad,” she whispered.
There was a breath of silence and then she heard it, the one and only time her dad had ever broken his demeanour to show some form of love - “Amelia.”
He turned around and looked at the guard. “Get this off her,” he said, pointing at the chain. The guard nodded again and shuffled forward, his hand curled round the butt of the whip. Amelia’s dad looked at it and a snarl escaped his throat. “Put that down.”
The guard paused and followed the governors gaze. “Oh, this? Sorry, Sir. No can do. In case that one wakes up.” He pointed at Javen’s sleeping figure and Amelia’s dad nodded.
“Ok. But if you used that on my daughter, there will be serious repercussions.”
The guard glanced at Amelia’s foot, where a single red line marked the soft white flesh. He gulped and then hurried over with the key to the chains. He bent down and unlocked her foot before standing up, his back hunched.
“What about the other one?”
Amelia looked up at her Dad and then back to Javen. His breathing was beginning to heighten, become regular again. He would soon wake up. His brown hair fell over his eyes and his arms were wrapped around his chest. He looked so...weak. Vulnerable. She couldn’t leave him.
“Dad, that feral in the corner, he’s called Jave-”
Her dad cut her off with a disapproving glare. “Leave him. He’s a feral; my daughters not. That’s all that matters here. Now, open this door and let’s be on our way, Amelia.” He draped his arm over Amelia’s shoulder and pushed her forward. “We need a little talk.”
He pushed Amelia forward again, making her stumble out the cell. She steadied herself and then twisted her head for one last glimpse of Javen. He looked exactly the same as he did a few minutes ago. Just as battered, just as bruised, just as pathetically helpless. Amelia felt a lonesome tear trickle down her cheek. “Bye, Javen,” she whispered, and, as her dad pushed her forward once more, she swore she saw one eye open and close in a wink.
Amelia lay on her real bed, staring up at the ceiling. It was just after midnight and she could hear the aves1 screeching outside her window. Her room was pitch black, obscuring the sickening pink walls and the fairytale princesses that laughed and waved their pathetic wands. Amelia sighed and rolled onto her side. Her dad had just given her a three hour lecture about ferals. He used terms like “fraternising with the enemy” and reprimanding the justice of Skyy” and a load of other useless words that basically meant - stay away from them or you’re grounded until you die. Most of the time during that talk she wasn’t even listening. Her mind was focused firmly on Javen, and how he would be in the Unregistered Compound. Javen, and how he would be put in a cage. Javen, and how everything about his life would fall around him, a useless pile of rubble.
“Amelia, stop being so depressing.”
Amelia sat bolt upright and looked around her room. There as no one there. A weary smile passed over her face. “Jessica, come out please. I’m not in the mood for hide-and-seek.”
There was a snort. “Evidently.” Jessica stepped out the darkness, holing a small torch. She flicked it on and a beam of light suddenly shot out, right into Amelia’s eyes.
“Oh yeah. Sorry.” She pointed the torch beam to the side and then jumped on Amelia’s bed. She was wearing a pair of thick, woolly pyjamas with tiny penguins on them. “You do know there’s only one thing you can do.”
Amelia looked at her and sighed. “There’s nothing I can do, Jess. I’m grounded for at least a month, and Javen is long gone. It’s no use.”
“That’s rubbish. You have to go break him out!”
Amelia looked at Jessica as though she was mad. “Br-break him out! Are you insane?!”
Jessica giggled and spun the torch in her hand. “Yes, but please listen to me. The compound isn’t that far from here, and your dad wouldn’t even notice! Come on, Amelia - where’s your sense of fun!”
Amelia snorted. “I think I left it back at the train station. It’s pointless. I’d be caught in an instant.”
Jessica stood up off the bed, a twinkle in her eye. “You’d see Javen again...”
Amelia’s heart leapt in her chest. Javen, with his long brown hair and blue eyes...
“I’ll do it!” Amelia clapped a hand over her mouth but it was too late. Jessica was already prancing round the room, singing and cheering. Her clothes had turned black and there was a pair of night vision goggles on her head.
“Woo! Come on, get changed! I’ll get a map!”
Jessica vanished and Amelia pulled herself off her bed. Why did she open her mouth? It always got her into trouble. Sighing, she walked over to her giant wardrobe and selected a pair of black skinny’s and a navy jumper. It wasn’t black but it would do. She got changed and then sat back down on her bed. Why was she doing this?! She could be arrested!
Jessica suddenly popped back up. “Right, I got the map. What are you waiting for? Let’s move, move, move! We’re on a rescue mission not a camping trip!” She paused for a moment, a grin spreading over her face. “Let’s go save your man.”
TO BE CONTINUED.
1Aves are a type of bird found in Skyy. They are similar to owls, as in they are nocturnal, but they look more like big, puffy seagulls.