As everyone knows, November is National Write a Novel Month. While sometimes not the best works come out of it, a lot of interesting stuff does.
Err... I need some opinions on my entry, as it is written so far. I started over because I didn't like my original idea, it was too emo. Defined emo. Was written with the blood of slain digital emo!
Hopefully this isn't, but I hold out no hopes. Read, enjoy, ask questions, and point out mistakes. Please. I suck at proof reading my own works, and, as I write in my head when I type, it's not unusual for me to leave a huge plot thing out of the written piece, because it's in my head, and I add it in automatically when I write. It's part of why I'm all crazy and Frodo-like. ^.^;
Frodo's Unnamed Novel:
Screams echoed through the hallway, bouncing off the walls and scattering through the empty rooms of the apartment. The lights flickered briefly before going out, bathing the decreped living area in darkness, the hallway soaked a a sickly blue light from underneath an unmarked door.
But the screaming never stopped, not after the power failed, not after the computer screens ceased to function, and not after dust had long settled on the place. The pained, pleading wails continued, soaking into the walls and continuing to echo, long after the poor, teary eyed, screaming girl and ceased to be anything but a faded memory.
Tabitha looked around the room briefly, nudging the couch with her foot, her face smeared with disgust. She couldn't figure out how anyone could allow their living space to fall into such disrepair. Hell, she couldn't figure out why anyone would even want to live in such a place at all.
The entire building was condemned, the rest of the block as well. Not a person lived with a two mile radius, even the bums avoided the area. Rumors of a haunted room and a screaming girl kept all people at bay.
And had summoned Tabitha to the scene.
“Is she there,” Henrick's voice echoed through Tabitha's ear piece.
“Not yet, she isn't. This place is disgusting, couldn't she have even bothered to clean,” Tabitha growled, kicking dust balls the size of BMW's back under the couch.
“Well, hurry up and find her, Rudy's getting his panty all up in a twist online,” Henrick growled, the sound of typing echoing in the background.
“Rudy wears panties,” Tabitha asked, surprised, pausing in her search.
A brief echo of swearing could be heard across the line as the infamous Rudy reacted to what she said. Apparently her and Henrick weren't the only people on the line any longer.
“Rudy, calm down,” Tabitha sighed, pushing the first door open gently.
It swung open to reveal a mold coated bathroom, a creature that was supposedly once a rubber ducky sitting proudly amongst the greenery. Tabitha clutched at her mouth as her stomach tried to toss away the contents of breakfast. The smell alone could have been considered a deadly weapon.
“Is she there, is she there,” Rudy demanded, his voice desperate, “Please tell me you found her!”
Tabitha slammed the door shut, panting as she breathed in fresh air. Or, as the case may be, slightly less putrid and deadly air.
“Rudy, shut the **** up and put Henrick back on the line,” Tabitha snapped, “I can't get the job done properly without him.”
The other line paused, and she could hear a mumbling in the background.
“Rudy, I'm sorry,” Tabitha sighed, “I know how important Kailen was to you and Darrel, but just hang up and let us do our job. We'll tell you the instant we find anything, I promise.”
Rudy sighed, and the line clicked.
“God damn it Rudy, get off the **** line!”
“You're an idiot Henrick, he's already gone,” Tabitha growled, not appreciating her partner swearing loudly into her ear.
“Err, uhhh, I owe you big time now, don't I,” Henrick asked meekly.
“You have no idea,” Tabitha growled, her ears still ringing.
She hated it when people screamed in her ear. Or near her. Or at her. Or in her general direction. Or at all, to be truthful. She hated screaming, loud mouthed people.
Her footsteps echoed through the hallway, muffled briefly by the dust as she tried each door one by one. And, one by one, each room revealed itself to be empty, dirty, and devoid of life. It seemed that their mysterious, nervous Kailen was long gone.
But, as the last door swung open, Tabitha held her breathe.
The last room wasn't empty.
But it was devoid of life.
“Tabitha, what's wrong,” Henrick asked, his voice echoing through the room.
There were fifteen computer screens spread throughout the room, dust covered and blank, two of them with blow out screens. The smoke and heat long since gone, metal shards embedded in the floor, bits of plastic melted with them.
Draped across the bed, though, draped across the bed, surrounded by three keyboard, four mice, and half covered in a blanket was Kailen. Her tiny frame contorted, eyes shut, hands gripping at her mousy locks, mouth set wide in a hideous scream.
And not long dead.
“She's, she's,” Tabitha gasped, backing into the door, “She's not here, Henrick. She's not here anymore.”
“What's wrong,” Henrick demanded.
Tabitha sank to the floor, not caring that her nice suit was now half coated with dust and grime, dust sticking to the tear tracks that now draped across her cheeks.
“She's dead, she's dead Henrick, she's dead,” Tabitha sobbed, “We're too late, she's dead.”
Henrick swore, and typed something. Probably a response to Rudy's ever demanding questions, Tabitha thought to herself. This was going to break Rudy, Kailen had been like a daughter to him, his precious little protege.
“Rudy, don't tell Rudy,” Tabitha gasped, wiping the tears away from her face, “Don't tell Rudy yet. He... just tell him she isn't here anymore, that she's moved on.”
Henrick paused for a moment, “Sure, okay, whatever you say,” he replied, the line going silent, “How?”
“How,” Tabitha asked, looking over the room, “I don't know. But something bad happened here. Something very, very bad. Contact Alice.”
“Alice,” his voice was shaky, “I don't like Alice.”
Tabitha rolled her eyes, shutting the door securely behind her. No one liked Alice, to be honest. They all thought she was a freak, one of Rudy's little misbegotten experiments that had been unlucky enough to survive.
But she was the best in the field. The only one in the field, to be honest. Only she could figure out a mystery like the one that was held behind that door. And Tabitha didn't want to know how Alice found out what she did, or why she was so good at her job. But it would help solve the death of little Kailen, Rudy's Kailen, and that's all Tabitha needed to know.
“I don't care, get her,” Tabitha snapped.
“Yes ma'am,” he snapped back.
Tabitha sighed as she entered the open air once again. The sun was shining a shade too bright, and air was a tad too smoggy, and the echoing silence of the condemned area was just a little bit too creepy, but she was happy. The outside she could handle. The creepy she could deal with.
But a dead girl who was only supposed to be a run away was too much for her to deal with.
Tabitha knew she would never get that image out of her mind. It was burned into her brain, the look of agony frozen on her face, the sound of her screams echoing through the room. She had died suddenly, and in much pain. And she had no clue why.
Alice sipped her drink gently, the ice clinking delicately in the glass as she raised it to her lips. She tapped her finger on the table, keeping count of the seconds.
She hated it when people were late.
She hated it when people were early.
To be honest, she hated the entire world as a whole. But she was trapped in it, so she might as well help ease its suffering slightly while she was around. It wasn't like she was busy doing anything else with her time. And, besides, this was a favor to an old friend.
Though she had no clue why.
“I'm sorry for being late, I didn't expect traffic to be so troublesome,” the woman apologized, sliding into the seat across the table from Alice.
Alice looked her over, and nodded, accepting the apology. It wasn't like she could do much else. What use would be making a scene over being two minutes, thirty two seconds late? It would be stupid, and Alice was rarely stupid.
“You said this was important. You said it was a favor for Rudy, explain,” Alice said, her voice crisp.
There was no use in dredging through the formality of small talk if it was important. Besides, Alice didn't think she knew the formalities behind opening conversation chatter, but no one needed to know that. They just needed to know that she could do her job, and do it well.
“It's about Kailen,” Tabitha sighed, sliding a jump drive across the table, “She ran away a few weeks ago. Got mad at Rudy for getting grounded, and decided to try living on her own for a while.”
Alice raised an eyebrow.
She well knew the story behind Rudy's little adopted daughter, but had not known they had been on rocky terms as of late. It was to be expected, though. Rudy had babied and pampered the girl far too much, she had long since decided. It was likely that she would think the world so easy to survive in.
“So?” Alice asked, “Track down the child on your own, or find someone else. I'm not a baby sitter.”
“We already found her,” Tabitha snapped, “She's... she's dead.”
That caught Alice's attention.
She hadn't known the girl very well, but she had been a smart child, and not too annoying. She would have grown up well, and might have even been pleasurable company. Once she had learned to stop thinking as a human, and started thinking on a slightly larger or smaller scale.
“How?”
“That's why we contacted you. I don't have a clue, it looks bad, and Rudy... we haven't told Rudy yet. We wanted to contact you first, before we told him,” Tabitha explained, “We hoped you would tell him. You and him are close.”
Alice sighed mentally, and took another drink.
She didn't know why everyone thought her and Rudy were close. They weren't. She was friends with him, that was true. And they had been friends for many, many years. But they were not close. In fact, you could say it was their hatred of each other that had kept them together as friends for so many years.
He had destroyed her life, and she had destroyed his.
It was a very hateful friendship. She hoped to be there to laugh at him when he died, one day, to be honest.
But she would not kill him, and she would not wish this kind of suffering upon him. This was too cruel.
“I won't tell him,” Alice said, holding up a hand and shaking her head as Tabitha made a move to argue, “That's not my job. That's your job, and you're going to do it. But I will find out what happened. Is everything I need to know on this,” Alice asked, holding up the jump drive.
Tabitha nodded glumly.
“Then we're done here. I'll contact you when I find out what happened, or if I have any questions.”
Tabitha nodded, her expression skewed up in anger, glaring at her. But Alice didn't care, if she was insulted that was her personal problem. She had known what she would be dealing with when she contacted Alice, and if she was upset now it would be her own problem.
Alice hated stupid people who jumped in, and were surprised that the pool was too deep to wade in. Her reputation went proudly before her, and she knew about it well. But she liked it that way. Humanity had a tendency to grate upon her nerves.
