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A 21 year old novelist just trying to finish their first novel by sharing the writing progress with the world.

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Thursday, May 16, 2013


Night was falling soon, Monday could feel it in her bones. The voice pulled her outside and from the sound of a door and the space she had, into a van. She felt her shouler blades move and started to scream.


“Pipe down. I didn’t want to take the hood off, it’s more fun that way.” The voice said. Monday had forgot her medasince, as the wings started to come out. She tried to push past the pain but worse, her hoodie confined her wings. Monday kicked at what she thought was the back of his seat, hoping for help.

“My wings are stuck, help me!” Monday yelled. There was some swearing and Monday felt the van slam to a stop. The door opened and she felt movemnet behind her. The back of her hoodie was ripped, giving her room.

“There you go.” Monday saw this as her chance, she rolled on her back and kicked at the voice. There was a grunt and Monday tried to roll out. She felt the edge but was pushed back, “A fighter? I like it.”

“Let me go!” Monday yelled, but was cut off by the van door being slamed in her face. The van lurched forward and Monday rolled around in the back. She tried to scream but the voice blasted the radio. Drowning her out with musical screaming. She pulled at the restraints but they wouldn’t losen. Monday kept kicking, but knew it was in vain.

It didn’t seem much longer untill the van stopped. The doors opened and Monday was pulled out. The smell of rust was in the air as Monday walked on as someone held her arms back behind her wings. There was a screathch of medal and Monday walked a few feet and was pushed down onto her knews. She heard someone stand infront of her, “Marie Borne, a nice genatric fake name. Do you know where you are Marie?”

The voice stressed Marie. Monday shook her head and tried to keep clam, “Let me go and I won’t hurt you.”

The voice laughed , she could feel someone infront of her, “No need for that Marie Borne. Your one of us.”

The voice cut her cords and jerked off the sack, infront of her was a thin man a few years older then her. His shollow skin was pale and full of scratches and cuts. His hair was short, spicky, and black: like his eyes and wings. He stepped back and held out his arms, “Welcome to the dark side.”

Monday was kneeling on the floor in the middle of a shack, the smell of water and mildue in the air. Around her were a few batered couches, a old table with asorted chairs, and a cooler. Next to her capture Monday was shocked: Bo and Holly stood either side of him. “You two are so dead.”

The voice laughed as Holly reached out a hand to help her up, “I’m sorry it’s just part of the inishation.”

Monday turned to the leader, the black haired boy, “What the Hell is going on?”

“What does it look like we’re just welcoming you to Hell.” He said. He held out his hand, it trimbled as she shook it “I’m Skip Wilson. This is just our way of welcoming the new young Nightlings. Thous if us under 25 have to stick together.”

“Sorry about the scare, that’s just the rules.” Bo said, not looking at her. Monday’s racing heart was finaly cooling down, but she still felt angry, “Besides, Ezra is mad at you. He called my mom earlier looking for you. When you go home you’re grouded: you might as well have fun with us tonight.”

Skip clapped her on the back, “What do you saw Marie, want to hang out with some Nightlings your own size?”

Being kidnapped was the worst way to be invited to a group, but Monday had to admit she wanted friends. Hanging out with Nightlings, let alone people, her own age might be fun. “What do you even do around here?”

“What all teenagers do when left to their own devises, we drink.” Skip said. He pulled a beer out of a strifom cooler in the cornoer and passed it to her. “Once we get tipsy, we like to practice our flying skills at the refrinaery next door. Recless endangerment is always fun.”

Monday sunk down in one of the old couches and watched Skip chug back his own bear and then another. Holly sat next to him at the table while Bo came and sat next to Monday. Skip grabbed his bag and to Monday’s horror, pulled out a neadle. He turned to Monday and winked, “You want some?”

Monday wanted to leave but had no idea where she was. Bo got up and pulled Monday with him, “Why don’t we get some freash air?” Monday looked back at Holly, who in turn, looked at her with embarisment. Bo lead Monday up stairsto the roof.

On top of the shack, Syringa layed behind them, its the windows lit up the city in hat looked like starlight. Around the shack were other buildings that reminded her of Sanders street, they must have been on the ofther side of the city, becuase across from them was a refinery. The twinkling lights casting their yellow glow on the plant’s tall towers, they vined threw the smoke and into the sky. Monday looked out at the refinery; there was a beauty to it all, it was a city like no other.

Bo lend on the wall and looked out at the refienry as well, “Stella works is Nightling safe. It’s a playground out there. All the pipes and tower are good to practice flying on. Once Skip gets drunk, he likes to take people over and jump from them.

“He seems like a bunch of fun,” Monday muttered as she took a sip of beer, trying not to gag “What is he doing to Holly?”

“You promiss you won’t tell?” Monday knodded, hoping it wasn’t bad. “Skip and his girlfriend are not only rogues, but Anti-dusk dealers. Sometimes Holly can’t handle the Nightling life, she hates blood and freaks out over killing. She’s is so sweat but this life kills her. Anti-dusk keeps away the Nightling part for awhile. It limits how long she has to be one. It’s not the best solution, but it’s all she has right now.”

Monday remembered what Dr. Franks had said about Anti-dusk, “What is it doing to her?”

“When she’s not on it her OCD acts up. When she’s on it, Skip saids that sometimes the mixture doesn’t go well. You saw the scars on him? I’m sure that he’s on other things, but some of it is the Anti-dusk. I’m sorry for bringing you here, I’m bad about keeping you safe.”

“What do you mean?”

“Holly had minchend to Skip that there was a new Nightling and he wanted to meet you. He likes to find new clients, new Nightlings make the best. His girlfriend Ruth says they’re the most despreate.”

Monday felt sick, she didn’t want to be here, but she didn’t want to go home either. She didn’t want to do anything but run from all of this. “She’s right you know. I went to see Dr. Franks about a cure. He said it was hopeless. I feel stupied for even asking-”

“You’re not stupied or the first. Holly did it when she was 12, and so did Ezra, and Jason, and even mom. Everyone has doubt. No sane person wants this life.” Monday couldn’t imagine Ezra looking for away out of this life, he seemed so content. “I was 5 when I became a Nightling. I don’t remember any other life and even I have doubt. Good days and bad days.”

Monday heard Holly scream from downstairs, but before she could go to her, Bo held her back. They heard wisaling as Skip came up the stairs with Holly following behind him. She looked pale and shook, but she was human. There was a haunting look his her blue eyes, a look Monday never wanted to have. She hobbled over to Bo and he held he up. Skip lend over the edge, pointing out to the refinery, “Now that busncess is out of the way, you ready to try free falling?”

Monday shook her head, “I can’t even fly, why would I want to go free falling?” she asked. Skip handed her another beer, lend in, and wispered in her ear, “Because what’s the point of having wings if you never use them?”

“I want to go home.” Monday said. Skip shook his head, she could feel her skin rise. There was something unhinged about him. He held up a fingure, “One jump. You do one jump and I’ll take you home.”

Monday looked at Bo and Holly, both were shaking their heads. Monday Chuged back her beer, hoping it woud calm her nerves, she held up a fungur to Skip, “One jump. Then you’ll take us home.”

Skip smiled wide, sevral of his teeth were missing, “I knew you would say that.” Skip climbed over the wall and jumpped to the ground. Monday turned to take the stairs when bo held her back, “You don’t have to do this. Rogues are not the safest group to be with. I’ll get a cab for Holly and we can walk. You don’t want to get involved with them.”

“I’ll be okay.” Monday said, pulling away. Down stairs, Skip waited for her by the door. He held out his hand and pulled her to the factoty. They cralled under a chain lenigh fence and into the efinerys light. Under them, Skip’s arms were covored in black lines, “What are thouse?”

“Oh these? A nasty side efect of Anti-dawn. It couats the vains and turns them black at night. It doesn’t hurt or anything. It just makes me look like a zebra.” He smiled. “What about you? You’ve got some preity lines up your arms.”

It was much hotter near the towers. Monday had pulled her torn hoodie off, Skip oggaling at her scars, “They’re nothing.”

“Does nothing come up to yay high, have blond hair, and wine alot?” Skip said, holding is hand up. Monday didn’t care about the heat and started to put her sweater back on. Skip stopped her, “I’m ony teasing. Cronic Bloodlust is a bitch to have. You’re not the first one he’s even attacked. Rogue life would be so much better for him.”

“Why? What’s so great about being a Rogue.” Skip pointed to one of the towers. Monday followed him up the stairs. They climbed higher and higher and Monday watched the ground look firther and firther away. She had never been this high before, if Nightling’s lacked a fear of highets then she didn’t get that power. Finaly when they reached the top, Monday staied far away from the edge. Skip looked around the refinery and took in a deep breath.

“You’re a fighter Monday Caldecott. Here you are, the world under your wing and you stay with them. You can do so much better.”

Walking home was looking like a much better idea, ‘How do you know my real name?”

“Just because we don’t asociate with Marcus, doesn’t mean we don’t have axsess. I like to keep up with the new ones, make sure that they are given their options.” Skip stepped back onto a pipe that tetered off the edge. Monday was narvous just watching him, “That’s is the main problem with Marcus; he gives you the elution of freedom. Sure you’re safe and protected with the Daylighters watching over you, but do you realy have freedom?”

He walked back and grabbed Monday by the hand and pulled her to the edge, Monday protested but he was too strong, “They cut your hair, they change your name, where does it end? All of this so that you’re free from harm. Freedom has many faces, Monday. Hanging around thouse who associate with Marcus is just another way that they’re controlling you.” Skip started to laugh.

Monday’s toes were on the edge of the building, “Skip this isn’t funny, I shouldn’t be this high up, I can’t fly!”

“And who is that never thought you. Before you can accept this life, you have to embrace it. Why have wings if you can’t use them.” Be she knew what happened, Skip was behind her and pushed er onto the pipe. Monday tried to keep her balence without falling, “Nightligs have a natureal balence, you can feel it. Just a little bit more out here. That’s it. You’re almost there.”

Skip had pulled her a few feet out. Monday kept the balence on the pipe trying not to look down. Skip grabbed Monday’s sholders, helping her balence, “Flying is in the sholders, tence to streach the wings, relax to bring them in. Whenever you fall, release the wings and let them catch the wind.”

“Why are you doing this?” Monday asked. Skip smiled, ‘You’re a fighter, you’re caught between two world: Monday Caldecott, a scared girl who fall into a dark world, and Marie Borne, that dark part that’s just clawing to come out. All you need to bring out that side, the side that they are trying to supress? Is a little push.”

Skip twisted Monday and threw her off the pipe. She tried to grab the pipe, but felt her hard missed. “Spread you wings an catch the wind.” The ground was coming up faster and faster as Monday pushed her wings out. She tenceed her sholders an felt the wind push her back, but it didn’t slow her down. Monday consentrated and twisted her self as the ground was closer and closer. She felt lift as the wind caught her and pulled her up.

Before she hit the ground, Monday felt free. The weightless feeling of falling was a indiscribale joy to her. It felt natural to be in the air. For the first time, it felt familer to her.

It wasn’t a gracfull landing. Monday hit the ground hard and rolled when she landed. Her ankle hurt and she felt bruses already forming. She watched Skip jump down and land quick and gracful next to her. He held a hand out, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Monday said as he picked her up. Her ankle felt weak but she could walk. Skip looked please with himself. In a quick move, Monday pulled back and punched him hard in the face, wiping off his cocky smile, “What the fucking hell is wrong with you? Why the Hell did you push me off like that? What if I didn’t catch myself? Are you just trying to get me killed?”

Skip lend his head back, trying to stop the blood, “I was releasing the iner Nightling, how did it feel?”

“It felt like you need to take me home,” Monday grabbed him by his collor and slammed into the side of a tower. She could taste the blood in the air as she lend in close to her his face. “Now.”

There was fear in his eyes, “I was just showing you a better life; where you didn’t have to hide or play by Marcus’s rules. Lover boy could be a reality, not just a forbiden fantisy. You would like the Rogue life.”

“Take me and my firends home now,” Monday growled. Skip nodded. She let go of him and stormed back to the shack with Skip trying to keep up. Bo and Holly were waiting for them at the van. Before Bo could ask what happened, Monday snapped at him, “Get in the van, we’re going home.”
Skip pulled up to the bakory to drop Monday off, Bo stepped out to talk to her, “Monday I’m sorry about this, I didn’t think he would do this.”

Monday rubbed her temples, “Just keep that creep away from me, I like where I’m at and don’t need some Rogue lifestyle.” Bo nodded and before he got back in the van, Monday called back to him, “Nothing personal against you and Holly; I’ll see you guys later.” Bo smiled; Monday liked her friends anough to not have any hard feelings.

She creept upstairs and into the apatment, all was dark around the home. Into the livingroom and to her room, not a sign of life. Monday flipped the switch on only to find Ezra sitting on her bed, “It’s midnight. Where have you been?”

“Hanging out with Bo and Holly.” Monday half lied.

Ezra still didn’t look pleased, “That explaines you disapernce for tonight, but what about today? I came home to find you gone.”

Monday looked at her feet, knowing she couldn’t get out of troble. She looked up at him threw her eyelashes, “I’m sorry.”

Ezra stepped off the bed and pulled her into a tight hug. Monday couldn’t remember the last time she was hugged like that. “You’re not mad?”

“Furous, but glad you’re okay. What did you even do?”

Monday fell back onto the bed and sighed, “Which do you want to talk about first: Dr. Frank, Sorin, or Skip?”

Monday confessed to everything she did. She talked about meeting with Dr. Franks and wanting a cure, she talked about Sorin and turning him down, and she talked about Skip and her first flight. Monday left out Holly’s drug use, but everything else she told Ezra. When she was done, Ezra layed down on the bed ext to her and scratched his head, “You had a full day.”

“Skip was right about one thing: I do feel torn sometimes. Like, during the day I’m Monday Caldecott, homeless girl who got lucky then at night I’m Marie Borne, new Nightling learning how to kill. Everyone says that hat I’m going threw is normal but that still doesn’t help.”

“It really is a normal shitty side effect. No reason to pick a personality, you could just be Monday, a nermal teenage girl given a secoun chance at a weird twisted life.” Monday sighed, no matter how many people said it, it wouldn’t set in. “I’m kinda of a bad gardian. Skip was right, I should of taught you how to atleast fly. I just hate seeing you get hurt.”

“I still like having you for a gardian,” Monday smiled. If there was one thing she could count on, it was Ezra. “Skip was right about another thing. I’m a fighter, I always have been and I always will be. Just got to learn how to fight threw this funk. Whenever Marcus asighens a new target, I’ll take on the chalenge. I can’t cure this so I might as well embrace it.”

Monday turned to Ezra and saw him smilling, “And you who says that you’re conflicked. You’re Monday the fighter.” Ezra stood up to leave, “Get some sleep. We have a cake order to work on tomarrow and Marcus already gave you your next target. You have plenty of time to refine your flying since you’re grounded. I can smell the beer on you.”

2 comments:

Rusty Rhoad said...

Exciting chapter. Filled with danger, tension, new problems and potential. Well done.

Unknown said...

Very exciting. I don't like Skip, he's a bad influence...but I guess it was good for conflict in the story.