WORD WAR 2- THE SHORT ONE

So... for those of you who participated in the second Word War (it was like a 10 minute long session) POST YER WRITINGS AND WORD COUNTS HERE!

I will do so momentarily once I am on my other laptop screen.

As promised, here it is:
368

T.Mor:
I glanced at the clock from my mattress. Not that I didn’t already know. Not that I wasn’t already painfully aware of what time it was and what that meant and… everything. I kind of wanted the batteries to have died so that I could live a lie for a few more hours… so I could pretend that this wasn’t actually going to happen. That I wasn’t going in to work today and… and..
Let me put this… Less.. painfully to myself… I’m getting a pay raise.
That’s all.
A pay raise.
Think nothing of the fact that I am going to be going down another flight of stairs… an additional flight of stairs for every single day of the rest of my miserable existence here. Think nothing of the fact that a pay raise means… means… well… uhm… Basically… murder… everyday. Or of the fact that I could easily just… Get that…thing out from underneath my mattress and end it all right now…
No. Won’t think of any of that. Just of the fact that… I’m getting a pay raise.
Hundreds of people before me have done it… Why does it seem so… wrong? … I mean… I have to eat mean… I have to eat don’t I? …Or… even more… My sister has to eat…
I mean…
Yeah.
I looked one more time at the clock before finally pulling myself off my mattress and downstairs to make a cup of coffee. I grabbed my boots as I left my room and wrestled with my door… I really needed to gwt a pair of hinges… perhaps the… uhm… pay raise… could help with that…
I just… ugh.
The coffee pan was already sitting on my stove and all I had to do was pour water into it and wait for it to boil. I hadn’t slept at this point in about… two days… Which was about good I think for going in to work today… Since… then when I finally passed out… I wouldn’t remember much of it in my sleep hopefully.
I stared at the water boiling from the kitchen table as I put on my combat boots… which… I really needed a new pair of…

259

This one started in the middle of the chapter I was writing. In Jaska's POV.


“Prince Jaska! Your highness!” She curtsied, her black dress lifted to reveal tall high heels. Her eyes were a bright red, the color of a rose, and brown, wavy hair down to her shoulders. At the top of her head was a red tint that shined and stood out in the sea of brown.

“Hello...who are you?” I asked politely, though it was quite rude to ask one who they were, without announcing your title. She looked at me strangely, raising a brow.

“I am Amamaya, also called by the name Maya, I am your new stylist,” She said, acting as if I should already know about her.

Wait...new stylist...?

This made...absolutely no sense...at all....

“You must be mistaken,” I began, “I have only one stylist. Where is Autumn?”

The girl must have been wrong, Autumn was with me for years! Why would they even think about replacing her? The girl, Maya, looked at me like I was insane.

“They said not to speak of her...why do you ask?”

“I think it’s my right to know where she is. Tell me,” I demanded. Her eyes widened, but she just sighed, knowing she had to listen to everything I said.

“She was put into the dungeon. Some crime,” Maya shrugged.

“...What?” I asked in disbelief. No...No...they couldn’t have found out....

“She’s in the dungeons! That’s all I-” She had no time to finish what she was going to say. I bolted out of the room, running as fast as I could to the stairwell that led to the fifth level.

Latimier - 1549

“Latimier Tyler? We have some business to discuss about the deaths of your family.”
Seemed like yesterday. It always ‘seemed like yesterday’ whenever my cell phone goes off beside my bed at this hour. Instead it was . . . thirteen years, to the day.
Who knew, murderers did exist. It always seemed like something that would not affect you. Like becoming a part of some conspiracy or identity stolen. You always brush it off, count your lucky starts, and say ‘that won’t happen to me’. Well, they did. I must have the worst lucky stars in the world.
Sitting in class, taking a damn test. No one expects news that would change the rest of your life. Thirteen years to the day, however, the dean of the college came in and asked for me. Said the police wanted to speak with me.
To deliver the news my parents were dead in my home. That my little sister was missing. That there were no leads on suspects yet. Just a random murderer without a cause, who decided to choose my house to have some ‘fun’ at.
Barely looking, I retrieve my phone from the night side table and staring blankly at the time. One thirty. Time for the odd second job of mine. Part of that ‘conspiracy’. Next to me Angela shifts in her sleep before her chocolate brown eyes blink open and she gives a little whine, wet nose and whiskers twitching.
“Yup, that time,” I tell her and her ears prick, but she doesn’t move until I do. She jumps down, claws clicking on the wooden floors of the apartment to the door, as usual, sitting and looking back at me while I’ve barely managed to move to sit at the edge of the bed. Still looking at my phone, a text message received before the usual message proclaiming why it was getting me up at such an hour of the night.
Let the dog out.
Again, I look over to Angela, waiting patiently by the door for me, before getting up to get my clothes on for the chilly fall air. Just let the dog out.
I remember my first night, after they found me...
We understand this is a lot to take in Mr. Tyler. Maybe too much, and we fully understand if you believe what was shared tonight to be complete nonsense. But if you say yes, we will give you the necessary supplies to move on from there.
And it had been folly to me. No way. But then going home to my old apartment that day, the dog was already there waiting. I didn’t pay attention to her at first, but she wouldn’t leave. The third night was the only time the usual message was changed. ‘Let the dog in’. Hard to believe...
I pull on my boots and get my keys, putting my cellphone in my pocket before opening the door and let Angela out. They had said not to name her. But who doesn’t name their dog? And she was mine, they had said.
She trots out ahead for a few steps, looking back at me when she reaches the corner of the apartment’s sidewalk that joins with the street’s. Seems we were walking then. That usually wasn’t a good sign... It meant not to hurry. No emergency situation. I follow her, and she only stays a few strides ahead of me until she stops and looks back to see if I’m coming. Always to see if I’m still with them, it felt like.
Didn’t accept their explanation at first, but then I found myself switching majors in college. Some part of me wanted some outlet, even if it was something so unbelievable as what they had told me. Some channel for the anger I felt for my family’s murder. I needed to do something...
Returning to my old apartment, a month and a half after I let the dog in, they came to visit me again. ‘Latimier Tyler. Do you accept our proposal?’
It was hard not to say yes by that point. It was what I had always wanted, some way to get justice for my family. And then... identity stolen.
‘We need to change you, Mr. Tyler. For your safety, and for others around you, you must understand.’
The difference didn’t seem very apparent to me at the time. I had transferred colleges to somewhere halfway across the country so as to escape the haunting memories of my family. The lake we used to swim in during the summer, the elementary school my sister was going to, her friends’ houses that I used to have to drive her to, or my friends’ houses - the people whom lived there suddenly seeming like total strangers afterwords.
But I had to move again, closer to home but still far enough away that there weren’t any real memories. Name changed - to Paul Sanders, they decided to dub me. My address changed with the move. Angela stayed with me, however, and the night I was just getting settled in the apartment I just left I received the first of many ‘Let the dog out’s.
The road we traveled went away from town to a slightly overgrown park, which Angela guides me through. They had carefully trained her, somehow. Never understood how she could find her way to these places. There was a path into the woods which she takes me through, her long German Shepherd gait propelling her gracefully and soundlessly through the trees and fallen leaves.
She stops suddenly, looking back again, before walking off the path. We were getting close then. And not an emergency. I frown slightly, following her through some pricker bushes and low branches to come out in a small clearing.
They are gathered around, their backs to me, Angela joining the other dogs off to the side.
“Latimier,” someone greets, and I turn to see Gordan by the dogs, leaning against a tree, her eyes on whatever the rest of them were looking at. These ‘meetings’ were the only time that I heard my name anymore... Mom wouldn’t be happy. She liked the unusual name...
She was there, both times they contacted me before I agreed. Gently, her hand pats the head of Angela before she stands up fully and walks towards me to meet me as I go over to greet her. I could turn and see what they were all investigating, but my eyes stay on her as I nod.
“Not an emergency,” I say quietly and she looks to the left again, not saying anything for a long time.
Her silence is unusual. She wasn’t normally affected by this stuff. She always seemed like the perfectly flat walls of some fortress - blank and intimidating, undefeatable almost.
I finally decide to pry. “What is it?”
Wryly, she gives a smirk. “Thirteen years, and you still wont look yourself. You still wont -”
“You said I could do things how I want,” I interupt her, my gaze hardening. I didn’t like it when they patronized me about how I conducted my work. My beliefs were simply strong, and I was taught to stick to what I thought was right. This was how I thought was the right way to do what they wanted of me.
She’s still looking however, not saying anything, and her silence frustrates me. Just tell me what it is! I feel my eyes wander over slightly, but snap back to her face. Tell me, just fucking tell me....How bad is it?
“...Its another Natural,” Gordan murmurs under her breath, crossing her arms and looking back at me, but I only see her eyes for a second.
She knows what that means to me.
My eyes snap over, I feel my body suddenly become stiff. Only a second before I look away, not because I’m repulsed by it, but because of the memories. They showed me the real pictures of my parents. The murderer’s way of killing...
You...couldn’t much tell the identity of the person... They definitely weren’t out here at one in the morning by themselves, which meant the killer went to town. Took him to here. Did this.
Ribs didn’t exist anymore, they were too broken to really see among the carnage. Everything within was either gone or torn to shreds. Arms were torn to shreds, legs snapped so he couldn’t run. Eaten and drained alive.
The same case they told me what had happened to my sister. Taken away to be a part of a game, then murdered afterwords.
Part of that...conspiracy...
I moved, but I started over at a college there. They gave me all the necessary papers to do so. Continued that major I had switched into. Mythology. Accepted Angela and the job she would always lead me to with that text message. Being a Hunter. Killing the monsters of fairy tales that were very real.
I fall silent as well, clasping my hands behind my back, one hand holding my other arm’s wrist. “I see,” I say slowly, my thumb gently stroking against the bracelet I had.
Natalie is written on the leather, though starting to fade with the thirteen years. My sister.
You are the reason why.