I am the Kraken (part 4)

This was totally going to be my last entry for IATK, but planned events seem to take much longer than I think they will to write. I'm setting off to write part 5 a.s.a.p, so look forward to the exciting conclusion really soon, or else prod me on Facebook for an ending if I'm taking too long.
And for previous readings: part 1, part 2, part 3

Trent opened the door for her. “And will I get to meet this Kraken? The rescue he pulled after Jareel’s coup still has everyone talking.”

   “He … likes to keep himself a mystery,” Emma explained, wondering why she was feeling so guilty for lying. “I think I’m the only one who knows who he is.”
   “Not a chance he’d show himself to the new guy then.” Trent got into the car.
   Emma frowned at his nervousness. He’d been nervous around her at the ball, but then he’d been quiet. Now he was babbling. “Am I making you anxious?”
   “No, it’s just … Your Dad, he always talked about you, and I’ve been waiting forever to meet you.”
   Emma was surprised by his answer. “What did he say about me?”
   Trent just leant back and smiled. “He told me how much he loved you, and how even your frown could make a man as tough as him feel love.”
   Emma frowned at this, and Trent gave a light laugh. She tried to suppress her smile, but that only made him laugh harder.
   “Then what did he say about my smile?” she asked, accepting that she’d lost the power in the conversation.
  He turned his soulful eyes to her, the smile gone from his face. “He said it would light up the night.”


Fios eyed the boy with distaste. Emma was twitchy around him, nervous. The boy had power over his human, and that could only end badly. Emma had left him to roam the warehouse, explaining that she had to go speak with the Kraken, and Fios watched him with suspicion through a darkened window high above the factory floor.
    “Frank.”
    Frank turned his head to watch Emma as she came in the door. She approached him cautiously.
    “Is something wrong?”
    Frank turned his head to look out the window once again. “I don’t trust him.”
    Emma joined him at the window. “Trent? He was the one who told me not to attack at the ball. He’s been working with us for a long time. We can trust him.”
    “You’re nervous around him though.”
    Emma bristled. “That has nothing to do with how trustworthy he is,” she said through gritted teeth.
    “Then why?”
    Emma sucked in a breath, “He kissed me at the ball.”
    “Oh.” The revelation didn’t ease Fios’s mind, it just made him more suspicious. If that boy made the slightest wrong move, Fios wouldn’t hesitate to disable him.

A few weeks passed, and Fios watched from afar as Trent and Emma became closer. He didn’t know what was so special about the boy that Emma would treat him differently from her other subordinates. He was a spy close to Jareel, but Emma had plenty of others on the inside. Fios couldn’t understand her actions. He was just glad Emma hadn’t brought the boy to their home, he still didn’t trust him. Fios paced his room, anxious about his human. She was still out with that boy, doing whatever it was they did night after night, and he didn’t like it.
    The door opened and closed, and Fios stepped slowly into the front room. He waited silently for Emma to speak in the semi-darkness, the light from the street the only illumination.
    Without turning on the lights, Emma approached him and placed a hand on his nose. They stood in a companionable silence for awhile, but Fios needed to know what was happening. He pulled his head away from her and she sighed.
    “Trent thinks we should take on Jareel now.”
    “Tonight?”
    “No, but in the next few days. The atmosphere at Jareel’s has been relaxed lately, and his security has been toned down. It’s the perfect time for us to make our move.”
    Fios shook his head. “I don’t think it’s the right time. My feelings tell me we should wait longer.”
    “How long?” Emma had a little edge of irritation in her voice.
    “Just a few more weeks. I’ve been watching Jareel. He seems like he’s getting too comfortable, but that there’s something in the works. There’s more to his movements at the moment than meets the eye.”
    “Trent says he thinks we’re not going to attack. Trent is in the thick of it.”
    Fios met Emma’s gaze. “I think he’s wrong.”
   “You just don’t want to go ahead because you don’t trust Trent.”
    “Do you really believe that about me, Emma? You’re trusting that boy over me, when I’ve been with you for half your life. Where has this Trent been all that time? I think you should hold off.”
    “You know who’s been in my life longer than you? My father! I need to get his business back, and I need to do it sooner rather than later. My father’s memory needs to be honoured.”
    “And we will get it back, Emma. I promise you that.”
    “I shouldn’t have lost it to Jareel in the first place!” Emma around to face the front door. “My father shouldn’t even be dead! He should have had his bodyguards, I should have been there to protect him. We shouldn’t have taken so long to get back.”
    Fios stepped forward to nuzzle Emma’s shoulder. “Emma, the past is the past. We can’t do anything to change it now. All we can do is plan properly for the future, and I say we should wait.”
    Emma spun to face him, but kept her voice soft. “I can’t wait any longer, Frank. If Trent says we can attack Jareel now, then that’s what I’m going to do.”

It was midnight, and Emma waited in the car with her semi-automatic, feeling self conscious without her real weapon standing by. She was having second thoughts about doing this when Frank had been so adamant that she not, but she wasn’t a little kid anymore, and it was time to be making her own decisions. Frank wouldn’t be there forever, he was a wild unicorn, and she had to prepare for her future in whatever way she could, so if creating an independent life for herself involved blowing Frank off every once in awhile, that was what she had to do.
     Any of Emma’s publicly known followers waited around the main building. Her covert staff were inside, and when Jareel stepped outside tonight, Emma would be the one to have the honour of removing him from his position. He was having a late night meeting regarding the Kraken, and Trent would lead him out and the bodyguards would be dispatched, leaving Jareel unattended. Since Emma was the rightful heir to the business, there wouldn’t have to be a bloody takeover. But there was still the disturbing issue of why Jareel had kept her alive in the first place. The empire needed a king and a queen. Trent would be the one responsible for a successful coup, and so it was reasonable that he would be the one to take the open position. She’d seen his glances when he thought she wasn’t watching. It would only be a matter of time before he tried something, because Emma wasn’t going to reject his flirting. She was jolted out of her daydream as the door opened and Jareel stepped out alone. She waited for Trent, even watching the building for a signal of some sort, but there was nothing. She leaned forwards to be nearer her driver.
    “Go. Back to the factory. We’ll meet anyone who got out of this back there.”
    As they pulled into the next street, the sound of gunfire followed them. Emma cursed. She didn’t know the extent of the damage to her operation until she returned to the warehouse. She listened to the continuing spatters of bullets and realised she shouldn’t get her hopes up.

Upon returning to the factory, Emma shut herself in her office. She told Frank the whole story, watching employees trickle in to deal with the crisis at hand, bandaging wounds and carrying covered bodies to lay them on the floor.
     Frank pawed the ground nervously. “... Emma, I hate to say ‘I told you so,’ but-”
    “No! Frank, I don’t want to hear it. We need to get Trent back. Without him, we can’t get my father’s business back.”
    “Why do we need the boy? We had no need for him when it was just the two of us. We will get revenge on behalf of your father on our own and then return to our normal lives.”
    “Our normal lives? Do you know what has to happen when I get the business back? I need Trent by my side.”
    “I don’t understand. Why am I not enough?” Frank looked hurt and Emma turned away from him.
    “The business ... traditionally it needs two leaders to run it so that all the employees will stay loyal. It needs a queen and a king, and I need Trent to be my king. If I don’t do that, I’ll end up with a situation like Jareel has now.”
    “Why does it have to be him? There has to be someone else.”
    Emma moved over to run her hand through the unicorn’s mane. “No Frank, there’s not. Trent was one of Jareel’s and there’s no one else still there who I know I can trust.”
    Frank tossed his mane indignantly, removing Emma’s hand from his head. “Well I’m not running in, guns blazing, to save your little king. We don’t even know if he’s still alive.”
    “Fine. I’ll do it myself.”

Emma walked in through the front door in broad daylight. No one stopped her or even gave a second glance, they were so busy rushing around in the aftermath of her own failed takeover operation. She let go of the breath she didn’t realise she’d been holding as elevator doors closed in front of her.
    This was the first thing Emma had done without Frank’s help since she was a little girl. She felt unnerved without him as a safety net in this situation, but it seemed that her own charisma would serve her just as well as his magic. She’d been an assassin most of her life, after all. Blending and looking like she belonged was her thing. She pushed the button for the basement floor where the holding cells were. In her line of work, she’d never had to go down there. Her jobs didn’t involve taking prisoners. But for one night she had been a resident there herself, so it wasn’t unfamiliar territory.
     The doors opened to a dim corridor of barred walls. There was a strip of fluorescent lighting down the middle between the rows of cells, and anything beyond the metal poles was in darkness. No one approached the doors upon seeing the light from the elevator. She supposed that most of the prisoners just hoped the visitor wasn’t for them. More of the cells were occupied than on her last visit. Jareel must have had more trouble consolidating his power than he had anticipated. She’d been the only snag in his plan and was proud to have ruined his smooth transition with her refusal to help. She peered into the first cell at the shadowy figure huddled in the corner. It was too big to be Trent, so she moved on to the second cell. This time the woman inside approached the bars.
    “Emma,” she croaked. “You’ve finally left the Kraken and joined Jareel?” There was a hint of disappointment in her voice. Emma turned away, but everyone else in the room had heard and were now at their bars. “How could you betray us like this, Emma?” the woman continued, her voice louder now. “How could you betray your father?”
    Out of the corner of her eye, Emma saw that the elevator had started to come down, so she had to find Trent quickly. With everyone closer to the light now, she could see who was in what cell, and Trent was on the floor, trying to pull himself up. The keys were at the end of the corridor, near a small door, and Emma rushed to get them and open Trent’s door, glancing back to the elevator ticking down numbers. The other prisoners continued to yell at her, a slight bit of confusion creeping in at Emma’s actions. By the time she had Trent leaning on her arm, the elevator was almost at the LB level and the only thing to do was to go through the door.
    The room beyond was a dead end, and Trent groaned as they entered. It seemed to be used for torturing prisoners, which was clearly what had happened to Trent himself. The lack of exit didn’t bother Emma though. It was time to swallow her pride and call Frank for help. She hadn’t really thought of how to get out once she had gotten in, and called out urgently for Frank. He appeared quickly, his horn emitting a soft glow in the darkness. She could feel his disapproval as she pushed Trent up onto his grey flank and jumped up behind him. The light was suddenly bright as they were instantly in Emma’s Kraken headquarters office. Trent slid off Frank’s back and onto the floor, breathing heavily. Frank was still streaming his angry thoughts into her mind and Emma had no idea of who to deal with first. She ran her hands through Frank’s mane, promising to have a talk with him at their home soon. As she got off Frank, he snorted and disappeared.

Nightwalker

I haven't gotten around to the end of I am the Kracken yet, but I do have a short for a Halloween prompt competition over at deviantArt (this is the competition info if you're curious).
Tell me if you'd pick me to win. I'm quite proud of my execution of a horror story. Tell me what you think...

Sometimes I think I could sleep through an earthquake, sometimes the tiniest noise or movement can wake me. This time, it's something crawling over my hand that jolts me awake. I bolt upright, my mind filled with the urgency of finding whatever critter invaded the haven of my bed. It takes my sleep-addled brain a few moments to figure out that my hands are groping about in leaves, and as my eyes adjust to the darkness, I see the shadowed shapes of spindly trees growing so close to one another they seem like a twisted mural on a wall. I'm encircled by the impenetrable wall of trees, and as I look up at their entwined branches reaching up like fingers towards the sky, I see the moon extending its glow down on me.
       I stand and brush off leaves. It's obvious I didn't begin my night in bed, I'm wearing jeans and a thick jacket. I haven't sleepwalked my way into this situation, but I don't remember having any reason to be in a forest. I run my fingers through my hair, partly to check for an injury causing my memory loss, and partly to push out the dirt and dead foliage that makes my head feel like a bird's nest. A self-conscious, creeped out feeling comes over me, not just because I've woken up in something like a room with trees for walls, but because I feel like someone's watching me. I look around, but overhead is only the moon and its envoy of clouds and stars, while the dense circle of trees don't leave room for anyone to stand and watch. There's no doubt an army of insects and nocturnal animals amongst the thicket of trunks and bushes though, and some of them might be curious as to my presence. I shudder at the idea of all those beady little eyes and only make myself feel worse. Standing around thinking of night creatures isn't going to get me home, and I step towards my only exit: a door-shaped opening in the trees. It might have been natural, but it's more likely that someone placed a frame there so the trees would grow in place. During the day, this would be the hiding place of my dreams, but at this time, which I guess to be quite a while after midnight, it just seems wrong. On the other side of this doorway is an avenue of the spindly trees, forcing me in a single direction. These ones loop in an arch so that only trickles of light shine onto the ground to light my way. Its eerily quiet and I make my way along cautiously, suddenly and illogically paranoid that something will jump out from the solid mass of trees or follow me from the grotto I just left.
      When I stumble into open forest, I feel more secure. The larger trees are evenly spaced and don't seem so sinister and suffocating. I see a path up ahead, and I'm so focused on reaching it that I almost trip over an upright stone. It's a gravestone. The surface looks smooth and well-tended, but it's old. The side I'm on doesn't have any text, and I'm curious as to who would be buried in the middle of a forest, so I move to get a view of the other side. I frown at it, which is a weird reaction, but I don't think there's a proper response to finding a blank headstone in the middle of nowhere. I run my fingers over the whole thing to check for indents; maybe time and the weather wore away the text or maybe I simply can't see it in the dark. The stone is smooth and unmarred. I spare a thought for the poor person buried without a name, but there is the more pressing matter of my own predicament.
      The silence is suddenly broken by  a rustling of bushes behind me followed by a humming vibration in the air. I jump up and face the direction I heard the noise come from. Everything in me is screaming that I should run and not stop until I hit civilisation, but I learned to override my instincts a long time ago, and so manage to stay rooted to the spot. The soundwaves in the air seem to  seep into the very core of me and my vision begins to darken, but I see a figure step out from behind one of the trees.
      "Who are you?" I manage to choke out through vocal chords that feel like they haven't been used in years. "And where am I? Fear has managed to creep into my voice, and I can feel my whole body tremble as the world gets darker. I close my eyes and open them again, this time glancing up at the sky to see that the cause of my semi-blindness is the a cloud covering the moon. The sound and the vibrations stop, but I can still feel the pulsing in my bones. A hand grabs my arm and I look at the hooded person in front of me. I'm sure it's a woman, but at the same time I'm not sure of what kind of creature the terrifying face belongs to. I let my revulsion instinct propel me backwards, but she holds me in place. I stare, horrified, into the glowing orange eyes looking back from a face that looks as though it has been torn to shreds. From the corners of her mouth two tusk-like teeth protrude, and she grins at my reaction, showing a mouth full of pointed teeth.
      "You've been chosen," she says in feminine and delicate voice that doesn't fit her image.
      I gulp. "Are you going to ... kill me?" My throat feels like I've been swallowing splinters.
      She laughs sweetly and grabs my other hand as I reach up to scratch my face. "You don't want to scratch. You'll only make it worse."
      "Make what worse?" The strangled sound that makes it past my lips doesn't come out as words.
      The woman doesn't understand me either. She moves both of my hands to one of hers so she can caress the side of my head. "Shh. Don't try to speak, child."
      I close my eyes again, trying to breathe evenly and praying that this is all just a nightmare. My skin itches and burns and I writhe, trying to pry myself out of her powerful grip. When I reopen my eyes, the moonlight once again shines brightly, illuminating the bloody gashes making their way up my arms as if an invisible knife is slicing them open. I fall to my knees, a pitiful wailing escaping me. My mind reels with questions and pain and the sounds of a million tiny critter feet, while my skin crawls and the image of the woman who now kneels in front of me flashes between a flawless beauty and a grotesque monster.
      All I can do is sob and wait for it to end.

I am the Kraken (part 3)

Hey there!

Part 3 was totally going to be the last part of this story, but it kinda ran longer than originally intended because I was having so much fun with these scenes.

Check out Part 1 and Part 2 if you haven't yet, or just continue reading if you want to jump in the middle of a story.

Trent had warned Emma not to turn up at the ball, but he wasn’t able to talk to her directly. He was unsure whether the message was conveyed with the urgency he had intended, so he watched the crowd intently from his place at Jareel’s side. He wasn’t happy with Emma’s lack of trust towards him, especially since Jareel trusted him without question, and he wasn’t even on his side. Jareel sat on his chair like a king on his throne, inclining his head politely at all who came to show their respect and support. While Trent’s mind was occupied with the buffet table, Jareel grabbed his shoulder forcefully, causing him to jump in alarm. If it was Emma, he was going to prove his worth this night. Jareel brought him closer, turning him away from the crowd to hiss in his ear.

    “That girl, I want to know who she is. I want her.”

    Trent was whirled around to face the people again, and caught sight of the young woman. She was around his age, with a pale, but beautiful face surrounded by a head full of golden curls. Her dress was soft pink with gold trimmings, and her pearl jewellery set her apart as belonging to a rich household. Trent stared at her, awestruck, as she moved over to the punch bowl. He received an aggressive push from behind.

    “Go,” Jareel commanded. “I want to know everything about her tomorrow.”

   Trent stumbled and turned to glance back at the smitten look on Jareel’s face before he sidestepped couples on the dance floor. Hopefully he could talk to this girl and watch out for Emma at the same time. She was finishing her drink as he approached. She was even more breathtaking up close, and he bowed slightly, feeling somewhat self-conscious next to her radiance when he wore a simple suit vest with a black bow tie. She curtsied politely in return.

   “May I … have this dance.” Trent hoped his voice wasn’t shaking as much as he thought it was.

   She gave a coy smile and nodded, taking his hand to lead him.

   “Sorry, I didn’t introduce myself, I’m-”

   The woman shushed him. “Lets not share names tonight. We’ll leave everything as a mystery.” She pulled him close for a slow dance, and Trent continued to scan the room over her shoulder as they turned. It seemed like only a second before the song ended and they pulled apart. Trent opened his mouth to ask for another dance, but was interrupted by a tall man with a black goatee, and the girl accepted his offer, leaving Trent to wander off to the food. Chocolate brownie in hand, he looked over to Jareel, staring at the young woman, who had already managed to pick up a new dance partner. He had to drag his eyes away from her to keep an eye out for anything amiss at the party, and he soon fell into a pattern of searching the room, letting his gaze rest on her, then moving back to the room. As his glance passed over her once more, he noticed something strange and watched her closer. She was disguising it well, but she seemed to be keeping tabs on Jareel. He almost groaned out loud as he realised she must be Emma’s spy. He hoped this didn’t mean she was going to make a move.

    Trent turned his attention back to the doors, and was surprised when he was approached from behind.

    “You’re not thinking of escaping, are you?” the spy-girl asked him, tugging on his hand to take him back to the dance floor. “You’re the most interesting thing at this party.”

    “Except for him?” Trent inclined his head towards Jareel.

    The mysterious woman looked down. “This party is for him, isn’t it? It would be rude of me not to be interested.”

    “You came to a party and you didn’t know who it was for?”

    She gave a short laugh. “It’s a ball. How could I resist?” she pulled him close again. “Tell me about him.”

    

Emma glanced up at the clock. It was almost midnight. She had a little more than an hour until Frank’s spell wore off. She suppressed a sigh as she saw another man approach to ask for a dance. She hadn’t asked him to make her more attractive, just unrecognisable. Though she had to admit, it was easier to get the information she wanted when she was receiving so much attention. She rejected the newcomer and pulled her sandy-haired partner from the dance floor, heading for the courtyard. He continued to do that thing he had been doing all night: scanning the crowd as if for someone specific. It was probably his girlfriend, she guessed. And yet, the way he looked at her when their eyes met again made her think twice about her assumption. They were alone in the small walled area outside. She wasn’t distracted by keeping an eye on Jareel, and he wasn’t watching out for his mystery person. She stared into his deep brown eyes, wishing it wasn’t just Frank’s magic that made him look at her with such intensity. She wondered at how she had spent an entire night with this young man, but he’d never recognise her if he saw her again. Emma sighed, meaning to pull away from his gaze, but they had begun a slow dance once more, and this time he pulled her closer. She closed her eyes as his lips met hers in a sweet kiss. It was just a few seconds, but seemed like forever, before Emma remembered where she was and realised what she was doing. She pulled away from him, not looking him in the eye again before she escaped back into the ballroom. She moved towards the closest exit as quickly as her clumsy, high-heeled shuffle would allow, calling out to Frank with her mind. No one was around, and she whispered as much to Frank before he appeared in front of her. She vaulted onto his back, only slightly hindered by her dress and shoes, and realised that her mystery man had followed her, standing in the doorway and calling for her to wait.

    “Am I trotting away or are we galloping?” Frank asked.

    “Neither. He’ll just follow, and I want to get out of here quickly.”

    Frank gave an affirmative thought and stepped forward, taking them immediately to the lounge room of the apartment Emma had been using since she had begun to be the Kraken. Emma leant forward, resting her head on Frank’s neck.

    “I gather it was an interesting night, Emma. Were you found out?”

    “No, but perhaps you should have toned down the magical beauty. I had men hanging off me for the entire night.”

    “I didn’t think to add or subtract from your looks, Emma. I only caused you to be unrecognisable. Anything else was due to your existing looks.”

     Emma slid from Frank’s back and stepped into her bedroom to check herself in the mirror there. She was unnerved by the unfamiliar blonde-haired, blue-eyed beauty who stared back at her. Her curls had dropped to fall onto her bare shoulders over the course of the night, and her lips had returned to a duller shade of red, but the black lines around her eyes had seemed to have become darker, drawing her attention back to her eyes. As she looked down to the way the light fabric of her dress fell around her ankles, she noticed a slight change. Glancing up to her face once more, she realised she was herself again, but the prettiness of the girl in the mirror was not wearing off. She watched the reflection of the dark unicorn come up behind her, causing her pale skin and pink dress to stand out more.

    “See?” he told her. “What those men were seeing was not due to magic.”

    Emma blushed. “Yes, well, the sooner I get out of these clothes, the more normal I’ll feel.” Emma started off, glancing over her shoulder on the way to the bathroom to see that Frank was still staring into the mirror.

The ball allowed Emma to take stock of Jareel’s security measures and how many bodyguards the new boss would keep at his side on a regular basis. She also noticed some nifty new alerts which must have been the reason she was warned away from making a move at that party. Her boy Trent certainly knew how to spy, and she thought it would be nice gesture to thank him personally.

    She set up the meeting and waited in a cafe across the street from the arranged place, watching her messenger politely browse magazines on a newstand, then give the hand signal. She walked over and took the arm of the sandy-haired man, who joined her without missing a beat. As they walked away, he stopped abruptly.

    “It’s you.”

    “Yes, it’s …” Emma finally looked at his face. “… Me …” She stared, not knowing what to say to the guy who had kissed her, and who she’d run away from, just a couple of nights before.

    He disentangled himself from her to run a hand through his hair, then gave an awkward kind of bow. “If I had known that you were coming to meet me, Miss Jensen, I would have dressed for the occasion.

    Emma waved her hand dismissively, realising that he couldn’t possibly recognise her from the ball because she was magically disguised. “Call me Emma.”

    “I will,” he inclined his head. He was the perfect gentleman, as he had been the night they danced.

    Luckily, Emma didn’t have to find any other words to exchange with him, as her car had pulled to the curb to collect them.

    “Where are we going?”

    “To show you the Kraken’s operation.”

    Trent opened the door for her. “And will I get to meet this Kraken? The rescue he pulled after Jareel’s coup still has everyone talking.”

    “He … likes to keep himself a mystery,” Emma explained, wondering why she was feeling so guilty for lying. “I think I’m the only one who knows who he is.”

    “Not a chance he’d show himself to the new guy then.” Trent got into the car.

    Emma frowned at his nervousness. He’d been nervous around her at the ball, but then he’d been quiet. Now he was babbling. “Am I making you anxious?”

    “No, it’s just … Your Dad, he always talked about you, and I’ve been waiting forever to meet you.”

    Emma was surprised by his answer. “What did he say about me?”

    Trent just leant back and smiled. “He told me how much he loved you, and how even your frown could make a man as tough as him feel love.”

    Emma frowned at this, and Trent gave a light laugh. She tried to suppress her smile, but that only made him laugh harder.

    “Then what did he say about my smile?” she asked, accepting that she’d lost the power in the conversation.

   He turned his soulful eyes to her, the smile gone from his face. “He said it would light up the night.”

I'm more than slightly irritated that every time I post, the font seems to be different. If anyone wants to help me out with making things uniform and easier to read, I'd be forever in your debt. 

I Am the Kraken (part 2)

Here is the highly anticipated (lol) part 2 of I Am the Kraken. Part 1 is here. I know exactly where this is going, so lack of story isn't the reason for the delay in posting. It's just the problem of exactly how to get the story out that bothers me.
As soon as I get my broken old laptop back from my computer-savvy friend, I'll have a plethora of short stories to attack your brains with, so look forward to that :)

Fios-Rente-Narve-Kassa made a point of returning to the Meadow of his home realm only when it was absolutely necessary. The uneasy glances from his kin caused him constant frustration, and he much preferred the easy company of Emma, living in the Earth realm. The others were afraid of him, and they rarely made the slightest attempt to hide it. Upon his arrival, the unicorns of the Meadow had been spread thinly across the lush green grass, and now they huddled together in groups, mindspeaking in whispers about him and his sudden appearance. It was not unusual, and in the years since he had stopped living among them, they had ceased hiding their whispered thoughts from him, only causing further frustration. Most unicorn's coats gleamed with an unearthly white, and their auras glowed with happiness and contentment, but Fios-Rente-Narve-Kassa had a grey coat and a black mane, and from when he was a foal, it was always said that his aura emitted a restlessness and frustration. He was to be feared and rejected - the Dark One who inexplicably lived in the flawed human world when their own realm was so perfect. Fios looked up into their perfect sun: the bright orb that never slept. It gave a pleasant amount of light and warmth, and unlike the harsh Earth sun, it didn't hurt the eyes if you stared up into it. Back on Earth, the sun would sometimes be covered with clouds, and even then its rays were still enough to burn uncovered skin. In the evening it would switch off, hide beneath the horizon. Emma told him that when her part of the world was in darkness, the sun would be shining on another section of the Earth, so it wasn't so different from the constant sunshine of the Meadow, but Fios appreciated the dark. He and Emma preferred to be a part of the world the humans called night.

     Thinking of Emma made Fios paw at the grass anxiously. She was the reason he had returned, as it was easier to hear a call from the Meadow than from Emma's house. The foggy atmosphere of the Earth clogged up his senses, and while he could usually hear her summons, he couldn't take the chance of missing her this time. He had sensed she was in danger. Something had changed in his human's life, but he knew better than to dive into the fray. Though she was in trouble, he would have to wait for the right moment to intervene, so would wait until she called him. But waiting wasn't something he did well. He tossed his mane, pacing backwards and forwards as he tried to distract his thoughts once more, but Emma was not an easy person to expel from his mind. Ever since the young girl had come into his life, he'd wanted to protect that fragile human, and she had protected him. They were a part of one another, and he couldn't bear the thought of another human harming her. The second that call came, he would gladly vanish from the presence of his own kind to be at her side.

Fios hadn't known where he would end up. He'd charged into the human realm too quickly to sense the surrounds. He materialised in the human world in a corridor, Emma's thoughts of him broadcasting clearly once more. Two men were holding onto each of her arms, and Fios didn't even hesitate as he lowered his horn to aim for the heart of the big one. He died instantly as he was impaled, and Fios reached out with his hind legs to kick the smaller man into the wall. Emma cringed at the thump, but went immediately to her friend, pulling a handkerchief from her pocket to wipe the blood from his horn. The man against the wall groaned and struggled to stand. Emma approached his prone form and placed a foot on his chest, slamming him back into the space between the wall and the carpet. She knelt to remove the pistol from the holster of the semi-conscious man and hit him across the face with it.

     "Don't you know who I am?" she growled at him.

     The man squinted, looking past her to where Fios stood. Emma hit him again, causing blood to drip down to his eyes from a cut on his forehead. She stood and kicked him from his place propped up against the wall so that he was lying on the floor.

     "I am the Kraken," she hissed, rolling him over onto his stomach with her foot.

     Fios sent out a question about the statement, and Emma shrugged, stuffing the pistol into the belt of her jeans before jumping up onto his back.

     "I need a flashy name to scare them. Do you think you can make your stab wound there look like a shotgun hole?"

     Fios concentrated his magic, pointing his horn towards the dead man. "Done."

     Emma put her arms around his neck and leaned forward. "Thanks for coming to get me, Frank," she sent to his mind.

     "You always feel the need your feelings into words when I am already aware of your gratitude," he said with a smile.

     "Yeah, well put it down to my humanity like we usually do." She pointed to the window and Fios trotted over to kick it in. The glass fell onto the carpet as if it had been smashed from the outside. He moved to the next window to smash it outwards. As they were five floors up, it would look as though Emma's rescuer had used a helicopter to save her. It would be sure to confuse and terrify whoever thought it would be a good idea to kidnap his human.

The contingency plan that Emma's father had put in place fit with Emma's plans perfectly. At first she had been frustrated when a lawyer turned up at her house - she had never told him where she lived, but was it any surprise that the mob boss had needed to find out every detail of her life? When he had presented her with details to accounts with more money than she knew he had, she was less upset at his intrusion. What use were lawyers, if they couldn't find a way to sidestep pesky inheritance and estate laws? He had joked with her, sipping coffee from a tea cup because Emma had never seen any point in owning mugs when she didn't drink the foul concoction herself.

     While the matter of distributing his legal estate was going on, Emma had bought a failing factory to use as her base of operations for the Kraken. She'd reached out to a few old friends from work and convinced them that she was now working for him, using those she knew for a fact were loyal to get the word out that they should join her. The loyalties of those in her father's business were shaky, she'd always known that, so she chose those she contacted carefully, and those she appeared to even more so. Within a week, she had a staff of a receptionist, two bodyguards and a runner, with the addition of a business manager her father's lawyer had recommended to keep the factory running as a factory as well as some people left on the inside to recruit from Jareel's business. They were understandably curious about the Kraken, but they didn't take much convincing to follow his rules when Emma explained he was going to help her reclaim her father's business and create a partnership between them.

The Kraken was ruthlessly efficient at getting his name out into the city. He managed to attract half the cops to his side of the conflict, and even pulled off a few successful hits on some of Jareel's leading men. It became more of a certainty than a rumour that Emma had joined with him. Emma had a few sources on the inside of his operation to confirm that the Kraken was certainly making Jareel nervous. One of the informants was the boss's personal runner, a young man named Trent. He sought her out, explaining to one of her people that he was once loyal to her father, but couldn't accept Jareel's coup like he was meant to. Suspicious of him, Emma would give him duties through a middle-man. She didn't want to reveal herself and have this guy come out as a triple-crosser. He was useful though, and slowly proving himself. It had been a few weeks since her father's death, and Jareel was having a party to congratulate himself. Trent had mentioned that Jareel expected her to go and try something, so had set up a trap. Emma's plans didn't involve gatecrashing a party, but upon hearing this news, she decided she couldn't miss it.

     Upon finding that her stuck up nemesis's idea of a celebratory party was to throw an olden days-style ball, Emma was less enthusiastic about attending. Nevertheless, she found herself sitting in the chair of a blabbermouth stylist, insisting that even though she said she'd wanted to look as different from her normal self as possible, she didn't want to dye her hair. Dressing up was already far out of her comfort zone, and Emma wasn't about to do something semi-permanent just to spy on Jareel. When it was done and she finally had the courage to look into the mirror, she was impressed with how well the stylist had done. Her face framed by golden curls, rather than her usual straight-but-messy style, made a huge difference to her appearance. The face staring at her from her reflection was still her own, but a perfect disguise, especially when combined with her look of surprise instead of her usual scowl. It wouldn't take as much of Frank's magic as she had thought to be sure that no one would recognise her.

You know, I broke my own writing trends (I can't really call them rules, because they're not) doing this. I usually make at least three drafts of what I write before showing it to anyone else. This is a first draft, so when telling me how horribly-constructed this is, just give some gentle nudges in the not-crappy-writing direction. I'll probably re write this later to take the first draft edge off. I'll definitely re write this if I contradict myself in the next part of this story. So until next time, faithful readers...

In Your Dreams

 There's a lesson here somewhere about not posting part of a multi-part story without first having written all of it. I swear I'll post more of I Am the Kracken as soon as it makes sense as a story again. But here's a short story I wrote for a competition - less all the typos that I managed to write in the original. What happened to my spell check? Who knows...

 

The first time it had happened, she was running. Whether it was to or from something she couldn't remember, because suddenly the corridor she was in had disappeared. The world around her faded to black and she was jolted by the sudden realisation that she was in a dream before noting the eerie sensation of being watched. She looked around to find nothing but darkness and a weightless feeling, as though gravity had been suspended. It hadn’t lasted long, but a few nights later she was back in that place of uneasy blackness. She tried not to move and just sense her surroundings, and there hadn’t been a flicker of any light, any sound, and she couldn’t feel any movement in the air when she twitched. It was as though she had lost all of her senses, but strangely, when she looked down, she could see herself. The pale skin of her hands and arms seemed to glow while the world around her existed in a void of nothingness. The second night she felt more than an observer: she felt a presence. She had many more nights when she was pulled abruptly from dreams into the empty, weightless, dark world before she heard the voice, and it seemed to vibrate the very atmosphere around her. There were no words, only the sound of the voice, and she knew it was him. After that night, he called out to her every time she would sleep. He was determined to reach out to her, and that was what she had always loved about him. Though he had no words to give her, she was comforted by his presence, following the strength of his call during the day in the feelings she knew he had planted in her mind.

He reached out to her through the void, through the nothingness. It had been difficult to penetrate her dreams at first and he hadn’t known how she would react to having her dreams pulled apart. She could have forced him away from her mind and blocked him forever from her subconscious before he could ever have the chance to contact her, but she had been calm and patient. They were traits he’d always loved seeing when he was with her. He had watched her from the first night he pulled her to him, standing still in a world filled with endless streams of sunset orange as if the celestial body refused to leave her presence. She stood motionless, simply listening and waiting to sense who was searching for her. The colour around her seemed alive, and it swirled with light and shade in breathtaking beauty. But the world of her mind was nothing beside his love herself: whose smooth, delicate facial features held a look of serenity as her brown hair flittered about in the pulsating air, shining with glints of red when the light and colour caught in the strands. He had no form of his own in her mind, and her look of peace had melted into pure joy when he finally found a voice in the strange land. He saw her small, soft lips curl around words, but heard nothing, and could not read her meaning. He spoke sweetly to her of his love, but it was clear the connection would not let her hear his words. They were so close, yet so very far away, and all he could do was call and lead her onwards, bringing her ever closer while he drifted further away.

I am the Kraken (part 1)

This is the story of the Mafia and their unicorn... or so I said on my blurb in my original document. This is just a small, fun thing. I don't have any real details about how a mob might run, so take that into account. But if you see any room for improvement with details, by all means point something out.

This was written for Emma - and will still be written for Emma when I post the next part (there should only be about 3, I think. Don't worry that this is going to turn into a saga).

Shank.

Another job well done. Emma gently wiped the blood from the horn of her unicorn, revealing the gleaming silver underneath, as she stood over the bleeding body of her latest hit. Fios-Rente-Narve-Kassa (or Frank, as Emma affectionately called him) snorted softly and nuzzled her hand as they waited patiently for the groans of the dying man to end. She idly wondered what she may have for dinner, what was in her fridge, when her father might insist she join him for a meal again, and which fancy restaurant he may dress her up and parade her proudly around. She absently pulled a sugar cube from her coat pocket and fed it to her beautiful killing machine, then ran her hand through her tangled mess of blonde hair. A low moaning continued to stream from the skewered man on the floor, but she was becoming impatient. Removing her machete from her belt, she bent over the body, severing the right hand and, placing the appendage in the saddle-pack on her unicorn, she jumped onto his back, nudging him forward to trot silently out of the front door.

“Your daughter is no lead assassin!” Jareel ranted as he paced around the dim, wood-panelled room. “She does the deed, but she has no sense of flair, of patience.”
        The mob boss behind the desk waved dismissively.

        “And she doesn’t quip, either,” he continued. “I’ve been with her on a hit, and she doesn’t even taunt the traitors before they die. She just waits for the worms to stop pleading, then does it. She doesn’t strike fear into the hearts of onlookers, she just kills them quietly and moves on.”

        “She is my daughter, heir to the business. She will deal with scum how she pleases.”

        “But we have Louis. Louis has flair. He could –”

        “My word, Jareel, is final.” His tone became dangerous.

        “Fine then. Let me just say, boss, it’s been a pleasure working for you all these years.”

        “You’re leaving?” the boss finally sounded surprised. The door suddenly opened, and his tone hardened once again. “Louis?” He growled, narrowing his eyes at the newcomer.

        “Well boss, you could say that I will be terminating my employment with you.” Before the older man had a chance to react, Jareel had made a motion to the man behind him and a shot rang through the room.

Walking towards her father’s office with the small pack carrying the bloody hand, Emma heard the shot from behind the door. It wasn’t a common occurance for the mob boss to order someone die in front of him, and Emma frowned. She pushed open the door forcefully, and the scene that met her eyes made her drop the bag.

        “Daddy?” she cried out as she ran to him. She stopped short a few paces in front of his desk, seeing he was shot, and Louis, one of the hitmen who should take orders only from her, was holding a gun out in front of him. Jareel stood a little to her right, in front of the desk. “What happened?” she demanded as she took everything in.

        “It was nothing personal, sweetie. Just business.”

        “Business? You killed my father – your boss – and it was just business?”

        “Yeah, that’s right. And by the way, you’ve been demoted.”

        “Demoted?” Emma couldn’t help but continue to repeat what was being said as a question. She was confused about the whole situation – usually, a traitor like Jareel would be found out a long time before anything like this could happen. She didn’t understand how this had slipped above anyone’s notice.

        “We have a new head hitman. It’s Louis here.” Jareel took out a gun, and pointed it in the direction of the man close to the door. “The real question is, what are you thinking now your dear old daddy is dead?”

        “Angry.”

        “That’s great,” he said cheerily, “But how do you feel about revenge?”

        “I’m going to kill you because you had a part in his death.” Emma grit her teeth and stared at the gun, in Jareel’s hand, her mind racing for a solution.

        “Oh-kay then. Boys!” he whistled, and the doors opened, letting in a crowd of Jareel’s supporters. About five, in all. “Can’t have you looking to kill the new boss. Lock her up, boys.”

        Two men moved to approach, and Emma drew her machete from her belt slowly. “You can try” she growled.

        The men hesitated. Jareel pointed his pistol at her. “You go with them or you’re dead. I’m being gracious, offering you a cell instead of a grave.”

        Emma didn’t even twitch as the men started to move in on her again. The moment the first was within reach of her weapon, she slashed at his arm. Blood spurted onto her and the man yelled in agony, grabbing it as he yelled in agony and moved backwards, falling to his knees when he was out of her reach again. The others followed jumped back as well.

        “Emma,” Jareel called out in warning. “Why don’t you just do this the easy way.” He stepped towards her with the gun.

        “I’m not afraid of dying.” Emma continued to glare sidelong at the men surrounding her while facing Jareel.

        “But how will you get your revenge if you’re dead? Why don’t you live to fight another day?” he said sweetly.

        Emma dropped her guard momentarily as she thought about it. The men sensed it, and before she could regather her stance, the machete was yanked from her grasp and her hands were cuffed behind her back. She glared at Louis as he moved to take his place next to Jareel.

        “Boss,” she heard him mumble as she was being led out towards the doors. “Look at what she did to Joe. Why didn’t you just kill her?”

        “Because we need her. Her father needed her, and we need her too if we want to pull off this coup. Who let her in when all this was going down anyway? I’ll have their head.”

        Emma had time to ponder the overheard words as she was marched down to the basement cells, but the more she thought about them, the less sense they made.

The long, low whistle came quietly from the cell adjacent as soon as the guards were out of earshot. There was only the light from the open door down the hall, andEmma moved closer to the noise, not aware of who was making it.

        “Emma, I never thought I’d see you down here. Thought dear old daddy promoted you to the position of lead assassin.”
        Emma spoke softly the man who spoke obviously knew her, but she didn’t recognise the voice. She had no idea why he would be down in the holding cells. “He did, but now his orders are being revoked.”

        “It’s done then,” the man sounded sad. “They were planning the overthrow for a while. I heard the whispers, and got thrown down here for not going along with it.”

        “Right.” Emma slumped down against the bars. Old information wasn’t going to help her.

        “I know you don’t wanna talk to me, kid, but believe me, I know what’s going on here.”

        “What more information could you have?”

        “I know why you’re down here, instead of being dead. I know that it’s only temporary so they can get a room set up upstairs for you. They’ll move you to somewhere more comfortable.”

        “And why would they do that?”

        “For the same reason they haven’t killed you. Killing the boss isn’t all they need to do to take over the business. There are some who won’t follow Jareel.”

        “So? He can just have them killed. What does that have to do with me?”

        “Kid, there are factions, even in a smooth-runnin’ place like this. And no one knows who  belongs to what side. It’s always been a pair that runs this mob. Those loyal to your father will be fine following the old right-hand man who took him down. The ones who followed your mother though...”

        “They’ll follow me? Why?” Emma had her face close to the bars once again, but the man hadn’t come any closer.

        “Don’t ask me how it works, it just does. Jareel needs you by his side to get this place running again.”

        “I’ll never do what he wants.”

        “Yeah, but once they’ve moved you, you’ve gotta remember to play the game. Wait till the moment you see their weakness, then get out of here.”

        “I’m not going anywhere. My father will be avenged.”

        “I’m not saying you should run. Just get out, set yourself up with something big. Give yourself some scary name; show them you mean business.”

        Emma grinned in the darkness. “I’ll be the Kraken.”

Courtney's River Adventure

I had an idea of the first story I was planning to post as my first entry, but I seem to have misplaced the file when my two external harddrives and laptop crashed and burned, so you'll have to wait for ninjas until I find it again.

This particular story, I wrote for a friend of mine as a bit of fun. It's obviously on the ridiculous side, but I think that's the charm of it. It's over-the-top because I wrote it based on an exaggerated tale this friend of mine told.

So without further ado, I give you:

(The Completely True Tale of) Courtney's River Adventure

The girl ahead of the kayak splashed along, moving backwards and pulling the innocently floating boat behind her. Courtney was following, pushing through the murky waters of the sandbar. The water was up to the base of her ribcage, and the shallows seemed to go on forever. They waded in silence for a while, Courtney lost in her own thoughts about life and what was for dinner, when suddenly was a cry from the front of the kayak and it was thrust backwards. The point at the end of the boat dug into Courtney's arm and blood gushed from the wound as she grabbed her arm, the sudden pain throwing her into a daze. Tears squeezed themselves out of her eyes. Courtney dived underneath the water, looking for anything that would stop the blood flow. A little ways away she saw a cluster of seaweed and moved through the water towards it. Still beneath the surface, Courtney wrapped her arm in the seaweed. She knew that this would quickly heal the wound. She rose through the blood-filled water and gulped in huge lungfuls of air, searching around for her kayak. She spied it in the distance, far off the sandbar and heading towards the shore. Her friend had deserted her – left her for dead. Courtney began to swim in the direction of the boat, thinking of what she would scream at the girl she had thought of as a friend. Although Courtney was strong, swimming with her wounded arm wasn’t easy, and she had to stop halfway to the shore, floating on her back in the middle of the river.

An ominous-looking fin caught Courtney’s eye over at the sandbar and she knew she had to get to shore, having attracted the dangerous creature with all of her blood. Courtney now began to swim for her life, moving faster in the water than she ever had before. She wondered where the shark was behind her, but didn’t turn around to look. The dock was closer than the rocks on the shore and Courtney thought she may have an easier time jumping up there. Trying not to think of the shark, she pulled herself up from the water carefully, the oysters underneath the high tide line cutting into her thighs and spilling more blood into the water. Courtney dragged herself onto the dock and lay there in the fading sunlight, panting heavily. She still couldn’t see the shark and couldn’t really bring herself to sit up due to the strain in her lungs and the stinging of her legs. She wondered where her friend was now, and for all her anger earlier, Courtney found herself wishing she would show up to give Courtney some help.

Courtney lay on the dock until the sun had almost set. She didn’t have the energy to cry, but somehow mustered the ability to get into a sitting position and examine her shredded legs. She unwrapped the strands of seaweed from her arm and pressed them against the various gashes on her legs. The seaweed had completely stopped the bleeding in her arm, so it would have no problem with the cuts on her legs. She had survived to tell the tale of her epic adventure.