Catch Phrase!!!!!
List of names:
Francesca Battistelli
Orlando Bloom
Robert Downey Jr.
Aragorn
Orlando Bloom
Sean Bean
Orlando Bloom
Tom Hiddleston
Chris Hemsworth
J.K. Rowling
Queen Elizabeth II
Frodo Baggins
Jane Austen
Winston Churchill
Gandalf
Gollum
Julius Caesar
St. Padre Pio
Pippin
Aragorn
Legolas
Billy Boyd
Franklin W. Dixon
Erik Estrada
Larry Wilcox
Winston Churchill
Teddy Roosevelt
King George III
Francesca Battistelli
Orlando Bloom
Robert Downey Jr.
Aragorn
Orlando Bloom
Sean Bean
Orlando Bloom
Tom Hiddleston
Chris Hemsworth
J.K. Rowling
Queen Elizabeth II
Frodo Baggins
Jane Austen
Winston Churchill
Gandalf
Gollum
Julius Caesar
St. Padre Pio
Pippin
Aragorn
Legolas
Billy Boyd
Franklin W. Dixon
Erik Estrada
Larry Wilcox
Winston Churchill
Teddy Roosevelt
King George III
Elena aka Bombur: Once upon a time, it was a dark and stormy night. “Do you smell food?” Sam asked. “No.” George replied. “How about now?” “No.” “Now?” “For the last time, no!” And that’s when the volcano erupted. Four very long hours later, George watched as a numbers and lines flashed across the sterile screen of the machine. He watched the slow drip of the IV, Sam covered in burns. Every now and then, Sam would mutter something about food, and George, every now and then, wondered if that was all he thought about. Probably. Oh, but there was the occasional whisper about sleeping. And the one time he said something about pop. Lightning flashed outside the window, emphasizing the dark and stormy night. George coughed. Suddenly, outside the window, there was the tiniest flicker of motion. Then a few sparks. Then a small, lightning-bolt shaped tail. Whatever it was, it was small… and yellow?
Luke aka Merry: I stared off into an abyss of murky gray clouds, but I didn’t seem to have a body. I felt like a spectator of a movie. I was aware and had no knowledge of what was going on, but I knew one thing I had to get out of here and find Dad. Easier said than done, I realized I could not leave, nor could I find my body. The world shifted and shook, I opened my eyes and jolted up in the hospital bed, shaken and scared.
Con aka Samwise: Phil lay there in the hospital bed, sleeping soundly. That is, till Sketch clunked in. He literally could’ve deafened an already earless man.
“Ya could left your boots by the door, pal.” Phil grumbled, his eyes still closed.
Sketch peered down at his boots, which happened to have heavy, clunky jets attached. “Why? They’re not muddy?”
“I was sleeping.” Phil said, eyes still pressed closed. “Still would be if it wasn’t for you and that herd of elephants you brought with you.”
“What elephants?” Sketch peered around behind him.
“Exactly.” Phil’s mouth curved up into a smile. “Morning, pal.”
“It’s evening. How’s the arm?” Sketch asked, nodding at the bandages wrapped around Phil’s bicep.
He reached up, and ripped them all off. “Well, the bleeding appears to have stopped.”
Sketch covered his eyes. “Put that thing back on! That’s nasty!”
“It hurts too.” Phil said in a neutral tone of voice, before slapping the bandage awkwardly back atop. “At least it’s still there.”
Sketch nodded to the IV. “See they got ya hooked up. What they feeding you? Mashed bananas?”
Phil eyed the cord leading into his body. “Looks like blood to me.” He ripped out the IV, and stuck it in his mouth. He spat. “Yeah, it’s blood alright!”
“Phil…” Sketch winced, and looked away.
“I know, stick it back.” Phil groaned, and then punched it back into his arm.
Sketch winced again. A nurse walked in the door, nodding a little lightheadedly at Sketch, who winked roguishly.
“This is my pal.” Phil said, pointing to Sketch. “His name’s Rah.”
“No, it’s Sketch.” Sketch frowned.
“Could’ve sworn it was Rah…” Phil mused. “Oh well, anyways, you’re more interested in him than me, so don’t bother even pretending to pay attention to what I’m saying.”
“What?” The nurse finally broke out of her dreamy trance.
“I said that I think I’m bleeding to death.” Phil didn’t even blink. He pulled up the bandage. “Take a look at that mess.”
She promptly fainted dead away on the spot. Sketch caught her, and glared at his friend. “Why would to do that?”
Sketch flipped his legs over the bed, and slapped his hat on his head. “She might be working for the enemy, and that shot might’ve held my death.”
“Or she could be what her nametag advertises her to be!” Sketch growled, lowering her onto the bed that Phil had just vacated.
Phil walked up, and ripped the name tag off her from around her neck. “She should be wearing glasses.”
“She probably has contacts in!”
“And she’s supposed to be sixty-two.”
Sketch’s mouth dropped open.
Phil slowly picked up the syringe that had been on the tray she was carrying. He tucked it in his belt. “Well, I’m ready.”
“She was cute.” Sketch said softly.
“She still looks cute to me.” Phil said, moving towards the door. “Come on, pal. You can wink at the secretary on our way out.”
“And then you’ll bash her so she can’t set off the alarm.” Sketch said with a sigh.
“Exactly. Fun times.” Phil handed Sketch a broom. “Club anybody who gets in the way with this.”
Luke aka Merry: I stared off into an abyss of murky gray clouds, but I didn’t seem to have a body. I felt like a spectator of a movie. I was aware and had no knowledge of what was going on, but I knew one thing I had to get out of here and find Dad. Easier said than done, I realized I could not leave, nor could I find my body. The world shifted and shook, I opened my eyes and jolted up in the hospital bed, shaken and scared.
Con aka Samwise: Phil lay there in the hospital bed, sleeping soundly. That is, till Sketch clunked in. He literally could’ve deafened an already earless man.
“Ya could left your boots by the door, pal.” Phil grumbled, his eyes still closed.
Sketch peered down at his boots, which happened to have heavy, clunky jets attached. “Why? They’re not muddy?”
“I was sleeping.” Phil said, eyes still pressed closed. “Still would be if it wasn’t for you and that herd of elephants you brought with you.”
“What elephants?” Sketch peered around behind him.
“Exactly.” Phil’s mouth curved up into a smile. “Morning, pal.”
“It’s evening. How’s the arm?” Sketch asked, nodding at the bandages wrapped around Phil’s bicep.
He reached up, and ripped them all off. “Well, the bleeding appears to have stopped.”
Sketch covered his eyes. “Put that thing back on! That’s nasty!”
“It hurts too.” Phil said in a neutral tone of voice, before slapping the bandage awkwardly back atop. “At least it’s still there.”
Sketch nodded to the IV. “See they got ya hooked up. What they feeding you? Mashed bananas?”
Phil eyed the cord leading into his body. “Looks like blood to me.” He ripped out the IV, and stuck it in his mouth. He spat. “Yeah, it’s blood alright!”
“Phil…” Sketch winced, and looked away.
“I know, stick it back.” Phil groaned, and then punched it back into his arm.
Sketch winced again. A nurse walked in the door, nodding a little lightheadedly at Sketch, who winked roguishly.
“This is my pal.” Phil said, pointing to Sketch. “His name’s Rah.”
“No, it’s Sketch.” Sketch frowned.
“Could’ve sworn it was Rah…” Phil mused. “Oh well, anyways, you’re more interested in him than me, so don’t bother even pretending to pay attention to what I’m saying.”
“What?” The nurse finally broke out of her dreamy trance.
“I said that I think I’m bleeding to death.” Phil didn’t even blink. He pulled up the bandage. “Take a look at that mess.”
She promptly fainted dead away on the spot. Sketch caught her, and glared at his friend. “Why would to do that?”
Sketch flipped his legs over the bed, and slapped his hat on his head. “She might be working for the enemy, and that shot might’ve held my death.”
“Or she could be what her nametag advertises her to be!” Sketch growled, lowering her onto the bed that Phil had just vacated.
Phil walked up, and ripped the name tag off her from around her neck. “She should be wearing glasses.”
“She probably has contacts in!”
“And she’s supposed to be sixty-two.”
Sketch’s mouth dropped open.
Phil slowly picked up the syringe that had been on the tray she was carrying. He tucked it in his belt. “Well, I’m ready.”
“She was cute.” Sketch said softly.
“She still looks cute to me.” Phil said, moving towards the door. “Come on, pal. You can wink at the secretary on our way out.”
“And then you’ll bash her so she can’t set off the alarm.” Sketch said with a sigh.
“Exactly. Fun times.” Phil handed Sketch a broom. “Club anybody who gets in the way with this.”
Sabrina aka Legolas: I licked my chapped and bleeding lips as I stood awkwardly in the doorway. The hospital room looked like any other. Smelling of antiseptic and was gloomily shaded in shadowy blues. The monitors hooked up into my best friend’s body were beeping ominously. Every time the machine lulled I was afraid that it wouldn’t ever make another sound again. My throat was so dry it hurt to swallow. I hugged my arms around my stomach and wondered what one did when your best friend was dying before your eyes because they saved your life. What did one even do in that position? I suppose most people don’t think about what they would do in that place because they hope they’d never be standing in my shoes, glued to the pristine tile floor of a hospital ICU room watching their best friend slowly deteriorate before their very eyes.
I took a step toward his sleeping form, shrouded in shadows that seemed too look like hundreds of Reapers with jagged scythes sucking every drop of life from his body. His thick, wavy brown hair was clumped from perspiration and spread out on the light blue pillowcase. His chest rose then shuddered and abruptly fall, like it was terrible agony to even breathe.
I pursed my lips, trying to keep my chin from trembling. A tear, as painful as an open and bleeding wound, slipped down my cheek. “I’m... I’m so sorry, Ben... Please... please don’t die.”
Maria #1 aka Pippin: I knew I wasn't dead because I smelled antiseptic. Unless death smelled like antiseptic. I tried to open my eyes, and instantly regretted it. The light that glared at me was so bright I groaned.
"She's awake!" said a voice. Definitely not dead.
"Charlotte, can you hear us?"
Feet shuffled and a shadow came between me and the source of light. A warm hand lifted mine. I opened my eyes again.
"What happened?" I whispered.
"You're an idiot, that's what happened," Blaise said. "You could have died. You almost did."
I racked my brain for some context to put to his words. I remembered the bridge, the gun, Leonard holding a rope, and running for my life.
Another shadow came forward. "You tripped and bashed your head on a rock, dear," Miss Halifax said. "While you were running."
I lifted my head. "And Leonard?"
Miss Halifax exchanged glances with Blaise. "Unfortunately, the police were unable to find him," she said. "They are still looking, though."
My eyes shifted to where Blaise was chewing his bottom lip. "How long has it been?"
"Eight days," he whispered. "The doctors gave up last night but I wouldn't let them touch you."
It was odd, because in one way it had felt like years, and in another, I felt as though I had just blinked since running through the night.
I would never be rid of Leonard's threat, would I? I probably had Blaise to thank for the fact that he had never snuck in and unhooked my life support. What an existence.
Blaise must have known what I was thinking, for he squeezed my hand and gave me a look that told me he'd be back to explain.
Tiana aka Bofur: Nero walked into Robin Hood’s tent and knelt next to the wounded man’s bed of furs.
“Nero” Robin said, his voice hoarse. “Go get my daughter, bring her back to me”
“Yes sir”
Nero stood and left the tent. He refused to let himself think that Robin Hood was dying. Nero would do whatever it took to bring Robin’s daughter back. And maybe, just maybe, Robin would pull through.
“What’s wrong my boy?” Friar Tuck waddled up to him.
“Nothing”
“Then why is your hand clenched into a fist?”
Nero looked down at his hand. He hadn’t even realized he had clenched it.
“You are worried about Robin aren’t you?” Tuck asked.
“Who isn’t?”
“His daughter?”
Nero spun to face the old friar. “How do you know”
“Because she doesn’t even know he was hurt”
Maria #2 aka Fili: “You’re not leaving me.”
His voice was strong, almost loud, but not thick. She smiled.
“I’m not leaving anyone.” she murmured, her voice catching in her throat on its way out. She reached a pale hand towards his and closed her cold fingers around his. “Be strong. Children won’t raise themselves, you know.”
“You aren’t dying.” he said, matter-of-factly. “The nurse was just in here half an hour ago, she said you were doing fine.”
A small laugh escaped her rosy lips. “I think I know when I’m losing my strength.” She met his eyes, so dark and confused and now filling with fear. Tears stung in her eyes and she blinked them back as best she could. “You owe it to me and your brothers to go home and live as though nothing has happened.”
“No,” he snapped back, his fingers clenching onto hers. “It was a simple surgery, you’re not weak.”
“Malachi.” She pulled her hand out of his grasp, face hardening. “Weakness is not something to be ashamed of. Whatever happens, promise me you’ll see that your brothers are taken care of.”
“So you’re going to leave.” Malachi’s face turned sour. “I thought you cared.”
She turned her head away from him, cheek resting on a clean white pillowcase. She closed her eyes. “I did not raise you this way. Have some pride in what is right. It’s not my choice, and neither is it yours.”
Clarissa aka Bifur: I hated being here. The sterile enclosure was uncomfortable and wearisome. Bright lights, loud beeps, and low whispering are not exactly the type of environment you want to be in, especially on your birthday. Yet, as a klutz, what can I say? It was almost impossible to miss, but I would be the one to miss the first stair down on the steps in my home. You see, sometimes I think to myself, which can completely overwhelm my senses and cause me to blot out everything else and focus on that single thought. At any rate, I won’t be here long. Just long enough for the doctors to discover I’ve broken this twice and that three times. It isn’t at all surprising for me, but doctors see my name and shudder. I am a doctor’s worst nightmare!
Zachary aka Kili: We continued our drive through the town, but we had so more trouble. Apparently not all the Nazis were drunk still… It took us by surprise, I still don’t know exactly what happened. But all I remember is that we were driving through town, then an explosion went off right in front of Rocky. The shrapnel from the blast cut right through Rocky’s tire, and we crashed. I don’t know what we crashed into, or even if we had hurt anyone, but I woke up the next day in a Hospital bed. There was a huge pain in my head, only matched by the pain in my leg. I woke up in a hazy state, and couldn’t completely make out what all had happened. A few moments later, the door opened, and a doctor walked in. “Bonjour,” he said to me, “I am glad we brought you in before the Germans found you, Private Ryrie.”
I took a step toward his sleeping form, shrouded in shadows that seemed too look like hundreds of Reapers with jagged scythes sucking every drop of life from his body. His thick, wavy brown hair was clumped from perspiration and spread out on the light blue pillowcase. His chest rose then shuddered and abruptly fall, like it was terrible agony to even breathe.
I pursed my lips, trying to keep my chin from trembling. A tear, as painful as an open and bleeding wound, slipped down my cheek. “I’m... I’m so sorry, Ben... Please... please don’t die.”
Maria #1 aka Pippin: I knew I wasn't dead because I smelled antiseptic. Unless death smelled like antiseptic. I tried to open my eyes, and instantly regretted it. The light that glared at me was so bright I groaned.
"She's awake!" said a voice. Definitely not dead.
"Charlotte, can you hear us?"
Feet shuffled and a shadow came between me and the source of light. A warm hand lifted mine. I opened my eyes again.
"What happened?" I whispered.
"You're an idiot, that's what happened," Blaise said. "You could have died. You almost did."
I racked my brain for some context to put to his words. I remembered the bridge, the gun, Leonard holding a rope, and running for my life.
Another shadow came forward. "You tripped and bashed your head on a rock, dear," Miss Halifax said. "While you were running."
I lifted my head. "And Leonard?"
Miss Halifax exchanged glances with Blaise. "Unfortunately, the police were unable to find him," she said. "They are still looking, though."
My eyes shifted to where Blaise was chewing his bottom lip. "How long has it been?"
"Eight days," he whispered. "The doctors gave up last night but I wouldn't let them touch you."
It was odd, because in one way it had felt like years, and in another, I felt as though I had just blinked since running through the night.
I would never be rid of Leonard's threat, would I? I probably had Blaise to thank for the fact that he had never snuck in and unhooked my life support. What an existence.
Blaise must have known what I was thinking, for he squeezed my hand and gave me a look that told me he'd be back to explain.
Tiana aka Bofur: Nero walked into Robin Hood’s tent and knelt next to the wounded man’s bed of furs.
“Nero” Robin said, his voice hoarse. “Go get my daughter, bring her back to me”
“Yes sir”
Nero stood and left the tent. He refused to let himself think that Robin Hood was dying. Nero would do whatever it took to bring Robin’s daughter back. And maybe, just maybe, Robin would pull through.
“What’s wrong my boy?” Friar Tuck waddled up to him.
“Nothing”
“Then why is your hand clenched into a fist?”
Nero looked down at his hand. He hadn’t even realized he had clenched it.
“You are worried about Robin aren’t you?” Tuck asked.
“Who isn’t?”
“His daughter?”
Nero spun to face the old friar. “How do you know”
“Because she doesn’t even know he was hurt”
Maria #2 aka Fili: “You’re not leaving me.”
His voice was strong, almost loud, but not thick. She smiled.
“I’m not leaving anyone.” she murmured, her voice catching in her throat on its way out. She reached a pale hand towards his and closed her cold fingers around his. “Be strong. Children won’t raise themselves, you know.”
“You aren’t dying.” he said, matter-of-factly. “The nurse was just in here half an hour ago, she said you were doing fine.”
A small laugh escaped her rosy lips. “I think I know when I’m losing my strength.” She met his eyes, so dark and confused and now filling with fear. Tears stung in her eyes and she blinked them back as best she could. “You owe it to me and your brothers to go home and live as though nothing has happened.”
“No,” he snapped back, his fingers clenching onto hers. “It was a simple surgery, you’re not weak.”
“Malachi.” She pulled her hand out of his grasp, face hardening. “Weakness is not something to be ashamed of. Whatever happens, promise me you’ll see that your brothers are taken care of.”
“So you’re going to leave.” Malachi’s face turned sour. “I thought you cared.”
She turned her head away from him, cheek resting on a clean white pillowcase. She closed her eyes. “I did not raise you this way. Have some pride in what is right. It’s not my choice, and neither is it yours.”
Clarissa aka Bifur: I hated being here. The sterile enclosure was uncomfortable and wearisome. Bright lights, loud beeps, and low whispering are not exactly the type of environment you want to be in, especially on your birthday. Yet, as a klutz, what can I say? It was almost impossible to miss, but I would be the one to miss the first stair down on the steps in my home. You see, sometimes I think to myself, which can completely overwhelm my senses and cause me to blot out everything else and focus on that single thought. At any rate, I won’t be here long. Just long enough for the doctors to discover I’ve broken this twice and that three times. It isn’t at all surprising for me, but doctors see my name and shudder. I am a doctor’s worst nightmare!
Zachary aka Kili: We continued our drive through the town, but we had so more trouble. Apparently not all the Nazis were drunk still… It took us by surprise, I still don’t know exactly what happened. But all I remember is that we were driving through town, then an explosion went off right in front of Rocky. The shrapnel from the blast cut right through Rocky’s tire, and we crashed. I don’t know what we crashed into, or even if we had hurt anyone, but I woke up the next day in a Hospital bed. There was a huge pain in my head, only matched by the pain in my leg. I woke up in a hazy state, and couldn’t completely make out what all had happened. A few moments later, the door opened, and a doctor walked in. “Bonjour,” he said to me, “I am glad we brought you in before the Germans found you, Private Ryrie.”
We switched up the narrators on these. The prompt was read by the author behind them.
The first was read by Con.
Sabrina aka Legolas: Dare collapsed to the snow, his heart colder than the ice pelting his face like millions of arrows. Murder. He’d been accused of murder. No one would believe the truth. He was a half-blood. Everyone hated him anyway because he was half Nørthman and half Kenoshian. They would leap at the chance to despise and ridicule and torture him for another reason especially one punishable by death.
So he’d ran.
That would just admit his guilt in the townspeople’s minds, but what did it matter when they were going to think him guilty regardless of what was true?
He heard a low snarl.
With effort, he picked his head up, staring into the driving snow and ice stinging his cheeks.
A wolf towered over him, larger than any he had ever seen. Her pale eyes pierced through him like a sharp icicle plunging through him. Her fangs gleamed whiter than the snow swirling around him contrasting sharply with her red mouth.
This was it. He was going to die at the hands—or jaws—of this wolf.
What did it matter? His life wasn’t worth living anyway.
He rolled over onto his back, the snow crunching beneath his shoulders. He might as well make it easier for the wolf to get to the fatal areas. It would make his expiration less painful.
He looked helplessly and submissively into the wolfs shining blue gaze. Then closed his eyes and laid his head back into the snow.
Zachary aka Kili: “How do you know my name?” I asked, confused. “Your dog-tag, isn’t it obvious?” “Oh…” I said looking down. “Where is my uniform?! Come to think of it… where is Peter?!” “Shh, quiet down. The SS is looking for you. I have taken a great risk bringing you here, please do not make me regret it.” “And I appreciate it, but where is my partner? You know what… where’s my MB?!” “Your Willy’s is being repaired and re-fueled. As for your friend, he is in even worse shape than you. He has a piece of Shrapnel in his head. We took an x-ray, and it has barely missed his brain. He needs surgery. But it will be a tough one to perform. But for an Allied soldier like you and your friend, we will try. If we cannot complete this surgery, I promise, we will find a way to get you back to America.” “I will not go home until I have completed my mission, or the war is over. Whichever comes first.” “We will do the best we can.” I peered out the window, and looked at the SS soldiers frantically searching for us, blood hounds and all.
Luke aka Merry: I looked around to see what woke me, there was an husky pacing the room and sniffing the ground. Occasionally the dog, shook beds trying to sniff under them. I pretended to go back to sleep. I briefly opened my eyes and saw the dog walk out of the room. I leapt out the bed, got of out the hospital grown and changed into my own pair of clothes, which conveniently were lying on a chair next to the hospital bed. Sadly, the only thing I could use to defend myself was my pocketknife. I heard footstep, and quickly leaned against the corner wall. As the footsteps got nearer, I heard voices. I drew my pocketknife and flipped out the blade, in preparation. I intently listened to the voices. As they were right outside the door, one of them mentioned my name, “Ellie”
Clarissa aka Bifur: A low growl pierced the stillness of the night. My heart thumped rapidly and looked around in anticipation, yet nothing seemed to be there. I turned my flashlight on and blinked it two times, the sign that Kiara should come to me from her temporary hiding spot. The rustle of leaves and cracking of twigs made me wince and I feared that every noise would be like a firework for the police. A snarl erupted out of nowhere and I stifled a scream. I quickly scanned the surroundings, but still saw nothing. Fur brushed against and this time the scream could not be silenced. “Jane,” Kiara whisper-shouted, “It’s just me!” I breathed a sigh of relief and the throbbing heartbeat lessened. I was about to explain our next plan of action when two discs of yellow became visible in the dark. The deep rumble of a growl followed and I feared that we might be trapped. “Kiara, we need to hurry! There are wolves out here and we are being closely followed by the police!” I could hear the strain in my voice and hoped Kiara would take me seriously. She nodded, her eyes big with fright. Believing that I had her trust, I told her to follow me. I took off, picking my way through the underbrush and ducking under low hanging branches. I stopped to catch my breath, and behind me I could hear the plodding footsteps of Kiara, with the crunching branches following. This could be quite a long night.
Tiana aka Bofur: Cerise watched in horror as Zev’s Alaskan malamutes fought with the three monstrous dobermans.
Her gaze shifted to the edge of the cliff. Where Zev had disappeared. She contemplated climbing down from the tree she was clinging to, to go see if he was alright. But she couldn’t move. Not with five dogs below her.
The battle between the dogs continued, and Cerise wished that someone would come along and break it up. Then one of the three dobermans yelped and ran off, shortly followed by the other two.
Nashoba and Rollin came to the tree’s trunk and sat on the ground their tails wagging.
Elena aka Bofur: He was the kind of wolf you wouldn’t want to pass by. Cold, unblinking eyes, bristling shaggy grey fur. Constantly alert, ready to spring at any moment. Others backed away as soon as they saw him, and tried to get away.
Well, some didn’t have that chance. Between him and his target, yards and yards of coarse, blood-caked sand. Around them, high walls made of impenetrable tan stone. On top of those walls were the watchers, spectators of the fight. Cheering for more, cheering for his opponent, maybe cheering for him. The sun glared down on the arena.
Copper charged forward, cannoning into his opponent. He pinned him down, and Copper stared into that face. Just another nameless soul, a face soon dead and empty. Copper felt himself attacking, his teeth tearing his opponents flesh. Blood spattering his muzzle. He instinctively snarled, his left paw holding down the near lifeless wolf. Copper felt the life draining away, the wolf’s heartbeat slowing. Just moments from death, the wolf stared at Copper – the wolf’s final poisoned gift. An image that would never fade from his mind, imprinted on his soul.
More cheering. Copper stood up, leaving the corpse to fade away. He was led away, through dark corridors and empty halls. Wolf felt the stares of others on his back. Him. Copper, the arena champion. He was pushed back into his cell, dark and cold. He lay down, burying his muzzle in his paws, blood rubbing onto his paws. He was a monster. The favored monster, the prized killer of a murderous queen. A monster locked away, like some treasure, only to be displayed as one’s wealth and power. Copper closed his eyes, only to be greeted by the dying faces of the lives he’d taken. He let out a whimper of anger and despair. What was wrong with him?
Maria #2 aka Fili: “E-easy now,”
Kieran took a slow step backwards, his open palm facing a large grey wolf standing over another furred body. It was impossible to tell the fallen from the standing, and Kieran wasn’t keen on finding out. Kokoa huddled behind him, clinging tightly to his thick robes.
The wolf licked its lips, its cheeks starting to raise in another thundering snarl. The fur along its back bristled, and a great rumble rolled from its chest. Its ears flattened, and Kieran flicked his wrist in preparation. A small ball of flame cracked in his outstretched hand and grew as the wolf came nearer.
“Kee,” Kokoa tugged on the back of Kieran’s robe. “Gui doesn’t like fire.”
Kieran threw her a look and hurled the flame at the massive brute. He didn’t care if it was Gui at this point.
Con aka Samwise: It could sense evil. Animals have lots of built-in instincts. And that’s one of them. All animals hate me. They sense a treachery about me. They sense an awful power. They cannot trust me. They don’t even try. They don’t bother to try and see past what I’ve done. What’s been done to me.
I don’t think of myself as evil. But then again, nobody does. Hitler probably loved himself. I was given an evil power, it takes a lot of good to fight it. To twist it to do good. It’s not often I do. But just because I have done it makes all my other action seem acceptable to me. I probably should change my mentality, but if I did…well, if I didn’t love myself, then nobody would.
And here is this animal, backed up against a wall, snarling at me. It’s a wolf. A big one.
I don’t want to hurt it. It’s just an animal. A mindless brute. But it is between myself and my goal. Blocking me away.
I slowly raised out a hand. Palm up. It was the movie gesture. I should’ve been emitting crooning noises. My mouth twisted up into a smile. I was so not doing that.
The wolf bared his teeth, and snapped at me. I didn’t flinch. I didn’t budge. In fact, I took a step forward.
The wolf backed away a pace, still growling.
I took another step forward, my eyes entreating this wolf to accept me. To pass on.
It leapt for my throat. I raised up my arms in defense, I had no choice, as I told myself later.
The wolf disintegrated before my eyes.
Slowly I backed away, and started to run. My legs beat the snow. I had to run this out. My mind screamed at me, trying to kill me. The power within myself was tearing up within me. I had let some out. All the rest wanted to follow. I had to run to contain it. And in case I couldn’t, I had to get away from civilization. I had to keep myself from hurting something more unmissed than a wolf.
It suddenly drove me to my knees. I screamed, the sound seeming to come out in waves in front of my face. Almost visible.
And then I was kneeling there, releasing it all.
Trees toppled around me. Severed at the trunk. I had done that. The trees came to the ground around me. Forming a cage. A barrier.
I slowly leaned up against one of the trunks, feeling drained. I slowly gathered myself up, pulling just enough power back into myself to allow me to stand up. It would fester inside me, cause another of these episodes eventually. But I was safe for a while now. As was the rest of the world.
One last, final tree toppled behind me as I climbed out of my cage, and walked back up the road, walking in my footsteps.
So he’d ran.
That would just admit his guilt in the townspeople’s minds, but what did it matter when they were going to think him guilty regardless of what was true?
He heard a low snarl.
With effort, he picked his head up, staring into the driving snow and ice stinging his cheeks.
A wolf towered over him, larger than any he had ever seen. Her pale eyes pierced through him like a sharp icicle plunging through him. Her fangs gleamed whiter than the snow swirling around him contrasting sharply with her red mouth.
This was it. He was going to die at the hands—or jaws—of this wolf.
What did it matter? His life wasn’t worth living anyway.
He rolled over onto his back, the snow crunching beneath his shoulders. He might as well make it easier for the wolf to get to the fatal areas. It would make his expiration less painful.
He looked helplessly and submissively into the wolfs shining blue gaze. Then closed his eyes and laid his head back into the snow.
Zachary aka Kili: “How do you know my name?” I asked, confused. “Your dog-tag, isn’t it obvious?” “Oh…” I said looking down. “Where is my uniform?! Come to think of it… where is Peter?!” “Shh, quiet down. The SS is looking for you. I have taken a great risk bringing you here, please do not make me regret it.” “And I appreciate it, but where is my partner? You know what… where’s my MB?!” “Your Willy’s is being repaired and re-fueled. As for your friend, he is in even worse shape than you. He has a piece of Shrapnel in his head. We took an x-ray, and it has barely missed his brain. He needs surgery. But it will be a tough one to perform. But for an Allied soldier like you and your friend, we will try. If we cannot complete this surgery, I promise, we will find a way to get you back to America.” “I will not go home until I have completed my mission, or the war is over. Whichever comes first.” “We will do the best we can.” I peered out the window, and looked at the SS soldiers frantically searching for us, blood hounds and all.
Luke aka Merry: I looked around to see what woke me, there was an husky pacing the room and sniffing the ground. Occasionally the dog, shook beds trying to sniff under them. I pretended to go back to sleep. I briefly opened my eyes and saw the dog walk out of the room. I leapt out the bed, got of out the hospital grown and changed into my own pair of clothes, which conveniently were lying on a chair next to the hospital bed. Sadly, the only thing I could use to defend myself was my pocketknife. I heard footstep, and quickly leaned against the corner wall. As the footsteps got nearer, I heard voices. I drew my pocketknife and flipped out the blade, in preparation. I intently listened to the voices. As they were right outside the door, one of them mentioned my name, “Ellie”
Clarissa aka Bifur: A low growl pierced the stillness of the night. My heart thumped rapidly and looked around in anticipation, yet nothing seemed to be there. I turned my flashlight on and blinked it two times, the sign that Kiara should come to me from her temporary hiding spot. The rustle of leaves and cracking of twigs made me wince and I feared that every noise would be like a firework for the police. A snarl erupted out of nowhere and I stifled a scream. I quickly scanned the surroundings, but still saw nothing. Fur brushed against and this time the scream could not be silenced. “Jane,” Kiara whisper-shouted, “It’s just me!” I breathed a sigh of relief and the throbbing heartbeat lessened. I was about to explain our next plan of action when two discs of yellow became visible in the dark. The deep rumble of a growl followed and I feared that we might be trapped. “Kiara, we need to hurry! There are wolves out here and we are being closely followed by the police!” I could hear the strain in my voice and hoped Kiara would take me seriously. She nodded, her eyes big with fright. Believing that I had her trust, I told her to follow me. I took off, picking my way through the underbrush and ducking under low hanging branches. I stopped to catch my breath, and behind me I could hear the plodding footsteps of Kiara, with the crunching branches following. This could be quite a long night.
Tiana aka Bofur: Cerise watched in horror as Zev’s Alaskan malamutes fought with the three monstrous dobermans.
Her gaze shifted to the edge of the cliff. Where Zev had disappeared. She contemplated climbing down from the tree she was clinging to, to go see if he was alright. But she couldn’t move. Not with five dogs below her.
The battle between the dogs continued, and Cerise wished that someone would come along and break it up. Then one of the three dobermans yelped and ran off, shortly followed by the other two.
Nashoba and Rollin came to the tree’s trunk and sat on the ground their tails wagging.
Elena aka Bofur: He was the kind of wolf you wouldn’t want to pass by. Cold, unblinking eyes, bristling shaggy grey fur. Constantly alert, ready to spring at any moment. Others backed away as soon as they saw him, and tried to get away.
Well, some didn’t have that chance. Between him and his target, yards and yards of coarse, blood-caked sand. Around them, high walls made of impenetrable tan stone. On top of those walls were the watchers, spectators of the fight. Cheering for more, cheering for his opponent, maybe cheering for him. The sun glared down on the arena.
Copper charged forward, cannoning into his opponent. He pinned him down, and Copper stared into that face. Just another nameless soul, a face soon dead and empty. Copper felt himself attacking, his teeth tearing his opponents flesh. Blood spattering his muzzle. He instinctively snarled, his left paw holding down the near lifeless wolf. Copper felt the life draining away, the wolf’s heartbeat slowing. Just moments from death, the wolf stared at Copper – the wolf’s final poisoned gift. An image that would never fade from his mind, imprinted on his soul.
More cheering. Copper stood up, leaving the corpse to fade away. He was led away, through dark corridors and empty halls. Wolf felt the stares of others on his back. Him. Copper, the arena champion. He was pushed back into his cell, dark and cold. He lay down, burying his muzzle in his paws, blood rubbing onto his paws. He was a monster. The favored monster, the prized killer of a murderous queen. A monster locked away, like some treasure, only to be displayed as one’s wealth and power. Copper closed his eyes, only to be greeted by the dying faces of the lives he’d taken. He let out a whimper of anger and despair. What was wrong with him?
Maria #2 aka Fili: “E-easy now,”
Kieran took a slow step backwards, his open palm facing a large grey wolf standing over another furred body. It was impossible to tell the fallen from the standing, and Kieran wasn’t keen on finding out. Kokoa huddled behind him, clinging tightly to his thick robes.
The wolf licked its lips, its cheeks starting to raise in another thundering snarl. The fur along its back bristled, and a great rumble rolled from its chest. Its ears flattened, and Kieran flicked his wrist in preparation. A small ball of flame cracked in his outstretched hand and grew as the wolf came nearer.
“Kee,” Kokoa tugged on the back of Kieran’s robe. “Gui doesn’t like fire.”
Kieran threw her a look and hurled the flame at the massive brute. He didn’t care if it was Gui at this point.
Con aka Samwise: It could sense evil. Animals have lots of built-in instincts. And that’s one of them. All animals hate me. They sense a treachery about me. They sense an awful power. They cannot trust me. They don’t even try. They don’t bother to try and see past what I’ve done. What’s been done to me.
I don’t think of myself as evil. But then again, nobody does. Hitler probably loved himself. I was given an evil power, it takes a lot of good to fight it. To twist it to do good. It’s not often I do. But just because I have done it makes all my other action seem acceptable to me. I probably should change my mentality, but if I did…well, if I didn’t love myself, then nobody would.
And here is this animal, backed up against a wall, snarling at me. It’s a wolf. A big one.
I don’t want to hurt it. It’s just an animal. A mindless brute. But it is between myself and my goal. Blocking me away.
I slowly raised out a hand. Palm up. It was the movie gesture. I should’ve been emitting crooning noises. My mouth twisted up into a smile. I was so not doing that.
The wolf bared his teeth, and snapped at me. I didn’t flinch. I didn’t budge. In fact, I took a step forward.
The wolf backed away a pace, still growling.
I took another step forward, my eyes entreating this wolf to accept me. To pass on.
It leapt for my throat. I raised up my arms in defense, I had no choice, as I told myself later.
The wolf disintegrated before my eyes.
Slowly I backed away, and started to run. My legs beat the snow. I had to run this out. My mind screamed at me, trying to kill me. The power within myself was tearing up within me. I had let some out. All the rest wanted to follow. I had to run to contain it. And in case I couldn’t, I had to get away from civilization. I had to keep myself from hurting something more unmissed than a wolf.
It suddenly drove me to my knees. I screamed, the sound seeming to come out in waves in front of my face. Almost visible.
And then I was kneeling there, releasing it all.
Trees toppled around me. Severed at the trunk. I had done that. The trees came to the ground around me. Forming a cage. A barrier.
I slowly leaned up against one of the trunks, feeling drained. I slowly gathered myself up, pulling just enough power back into myself to allow me to stand up. It would fester inside me, cause another of these episodes eventually. But I was safe for a while now. As was the rest of the world.
One last, final tree toppled behind me as I climbed out of my cage, and walked back up the road, walking in my footsteps.
Elena aka Bombur: The screen of the metal box flickered. An image of a human, tied up, by a wall, fizzled in and out. Then the screen went dark.
Wolf stared at the contraption, then swatted it with his tail, causing it to crash to the ground. Humans make such strange things, Wolf thought. This junkyard was proof of that. There were things he recognized, like swords, spears, armor, and even the occasional discarded piece of griffin weaponry. Then there were the things he didn’t recognize, like the picture box.
Mathryn followed behind him at a leisurly pace, his ghostlike wings brushing his tail. Oh wait. Mathryn was a ghost. Of a sort. The kind that was practically real to him, but nonexistent to the rest of the world. The kind that could help him on his near-impossible journey, a journey Mathryn had been on before, in similar fashion.
Mathryn handed him a clay pot. “D’you know what to make of this?” Wolf studied the pot. Engraved on it were thousands of tiny, intricate designs, of battle and war, a war he didn’t recognize. “No. No, I don’t.”
Maria #2 aka Fili: Thomas yanked once more at the thick ropes holding his hands to the pipe, and sunk down against it. It hadn’t loosened a touch, but he now had even worse rope burns than before, and something told him he’d have some sore wounds to deal with if he ever managed to get out of this situation.
In a spectacular change of events, Thomas had decided to go out with his friends on a saturday night. After months and months of them badgering him to come out and relax he had finally accepted. And look what had happened. This was the reason he didn’t to extracurricular activities.
He sighed, bringing his mind back to where things actually hurt the most. His throat was sore from trying to scream, and his head thumped with a pulsing hotness. He could feel the sweat rolling down the sides of his face and down his back. His hoodie wasn’t the best, but it was one of his favorites.
A great idea this was. Make some friends and go out for a few drinks. Marvelous. Simply remarkable. The only times he ever left his house something awful always happened, and now it was his friends that had gone bad. Emma-Rose was showing so much promise too, and she had hit him over the head with the back of a wooden chair. Thomas closed his eyes, imagining the scene. Him, of course, surrounded by the five or so people that he’d known for three years. Emma-Rose, standing out in her pink baseball cap and grey striped cat shirt. She wore it often. She was the proud owner of seven grey tabby cats, and that shirt was one of the only ways to hide the amounts of cat hair she collected on a daily basis. Her normally passive face was twisted in some emotion Thomas simply couldn’t place. Someone kicked a piece of scrap across the concrete, and Emma-Rose hefted it in her hand before swinging it without hesitation at him. And then he’d woken up here. Hot, damp and full of hurt feelings and bruises. That’s what he got for trying to befriend CIA agents.
Con aka Samwise: They had stuck a drink next to my foot. It had made me snort with laughter behind my gag. For one, how does one manage to drink out of straw when gagged? And secondly, what good was it doing by my foot? I needed it in my mouth! The only way I knew to get it there was with my hands. And those were tied behind my back.
So I had snorted with laughter.
“What’s wrong, punk?” One of my captors asked, leaning over me. “Got a cold? Need to blow your snotty nose?”
I glanced up at his face. I finally understood the real torture of being gagged. One could not emit all the witty comebacks one comes up with. I sighed interiorly. I had come up with a really good one.
And then I realized that it was because of witty comebacks I was sitting here, gagged and tied. I frowned, and mused upon this. Maybe I should wear a gag at all times. I might live at least to my wedding date (if that day ever come…my witty mouth tended to make short work of my romantic relationships).
I wondered what they would stick on my tomb. If it was my older bro, I knew what it would say. It would be very accurate: “He was one Smart Alec.”
“How’s the gag smell, blabbermouth?” My torturer asked, getting right in my face.
That when I came up with the brilliant strategy to let him know. I breathed out, heavily. He inhaled, and then choked.
I raised an eyebrow. It wasn’t that bad, once you got used to it. I did suspect the bag they had tied around my mouth must have been used to carry manure, though. I literally could imagine my teeth melting right now, it was pretty much that awful. Maybe he had good reason to choke…
He turned back to the main group, and prepared to walk off. And then I decided to get the last word, without saying a thing. I reached back a foot, and kicked the McDonalds ice water they had given me. It rocketed up, and splashed all over his back. He screamed long and loud. McDonalds makes cold ice water, apparently. For once I was not disappointed with my meal from there.
Sabrina aka Legolas: Dare slumped to the cool stone floor of the dungeon, the cavernous walls dripping. The band tied tightly through his mouth tightened the tender skin. He strained half-heartedly against his bonds but fell back defeated. Why bother trying? Death was inevitable. Of course, the Kenoshians and the Nørthmen had bones to pick with him, they’d beat him to death before they actually got around to hanging him or chopping his head off. The Kenoshians usually favored the former and the Nørthman chose the latter, liking to use their battle axes to lob peoples’ heads off. Liking to see their victims bleed. Hence why he was bound, gagged, and bleeding in the castle of the Kenoshian dungeon. They took the gag off when they beat him of course, they liked to hear him scream as they tortured him.
If he wouldn’t have been gagged so tightly, he would have smiled grimly. How ironic. The people who despised him so much, were his people. The castle he was in at this moment, was his castle. The dungeon he was being beaten in, was his dungeon. He was the next Kenoshian in line for the throne. The ironic part? Everyone hated him. Kenoshians and Nørthmen alike. A half-blood couldn’t be king. Anyone but a half-blood should be king.
But, as the former King Dev had told him: only a half-blood could be king. Perhaps, a half-blood, half Kenoshian and half Nørthman, could unite the two lands that had been at odds for so long. There would be no prejudice or bias against either party because he was a part of both parties.
Now he had to somehow convince the entire kingdom that he was the rightful king. If he survived that long.
Zachary aka Kili: They were grabbing people from near where the explosion had gone off, and our Jeep had crashed. It appeared they were speaking to them for a second, then throwing them to the ground. Some they even tied up, and took away for further questioning. We were safe in the hospital, at least, safe from the Germans. Peter was in huge danger, I had another concussion, making it the second one this mission, and we hadn’t even left France! I got little sleep that night, but better than I had when I was sleeping in the back seat of Rocky. Have the night I stayed up praying, mostly for Peter, partly for myself, and partly for my family back home. The Germans could storm through the door at any second, and shoot me on sight. The next day, I was praying still, when the Doctor walked into my room. “Today we will perform the surgery. I hope you have done a good amount of praying, this could be a loss.” About 6 hours later, the Doctor came back in. “He’s…” TO BE CONTINUED…
Clarissa aka Bifur: I opened my eyes, heavy and protesting. It was dark, but I could barely make out pipes and a pool of water. The smell was revolting, and I would have gagged if I hadn’t already been gagged myself. I felt numb and sore, my wrists and ankles pleading with me. If I could just release them from the coarse rope that bound them together, their cries for help would be silenced. I tried to remember what had happened, what I had done, and eventually, who I was. I couldn’t remember my name or anything about myself. Did I like the color blue? Maybe I do like cats better than dogs. I grasped out straws in my mind, but nothing seemed to help. Everything hurt, and if I moved, everything cried out in agony. Heavy footsteps could be heard above me, and music that seemed like an angel’s song greeted my ears. Where could I be? I looked up, as if an answer would appear. A door slammed and I jumped-well not really, as it is nearly impossible to jump when one is bound and gagged so tightly. I squinted in the darkness, and then cringed as hot breath fell on my neck. I turned to meet the unknown. Eyes pierced my soul and internally I screamed as loud as I could while thick hands reached for my throat.
Tiana aka Bofur: Damyen groaned as he opened his eyes. His head throbbed, his hands were numb and he felt blood trickling from a massive welt on his forehead.
The room he was in was big and empty, not that he could see much of it in the lack of light. He tried moving his hands. Metal clinked behind him.
Handcuffs.
“Great” he groaned.
At least the pipe behind him was cold. It felt good on his throbbing head.
“Glad to see that you are awake” The Captain of the Titanic walked up to him. “Now, shall we talk about what you are doing here?”
“You talk and I’ll listen” Damyen growled.
“Well that is going to be a very one sided conversation, but very well,” he pulled up a stool, sat down and glared at him “You can do your talking later”
Wolf stared at the contraption, then swatted it with his tail, causing it to crash to the ground. Humans make such strange things, Wolf thought. This junkyard was proof of that. There were things he recognized, like swords, spears, armor, and even the occasional discarded piece of griffin weaponry. Then there were the things he didn’t recognize, like the picture box.
Mathryn followed behind him at a leisurly pace, his ghostlike wings brushing his tail. Oh wait. Mathryn was a ghost. Of a sort. The kind that was practically real to him, but nonexistent to the rest of the world. The kind that could help him on his near-impossible journey, a journey Mathryn had been on before, in similar fashion.
Mathryn handed him a clay pot. “D’you know what to make of this?” Wolf studied the pot. Engraved on it were thousands of tiny, intricate designs, of battle and war, a war he didn’t recognize. “No. No, I don’t.”
Maria #2 aka Fili: Thomas yanked once more at the thick ropes holding his hands to the pipe, and sunk down against it. It hadn’t loosened a touch, but he now had even worse rope burns than before, and something told him he’d have some sore wounds to deal with if he ever managed to get out of this situation.
In a spectacular change of events, Thomas had decided to go out with his friends on a saturday night. After months and months of them badgering him to come out and relax he had finally accepted. And look what had happened. This was the reason he didn’t to extracurricular activities.
He sighed, bringing his mind back to where things actually hurt the most. His throat was sore from trying to scream, and his head thumped with a pulsing hotness. He could feel the sweat rolling down the sides of his face and down his back. His hoodie wasn’t the best, but it was one of his favorites.
A great idea this was. Make some friends and go out for a few drinks. Marvelous. Simply remarkable. The only times he ever left his house something awful always happened, and now it was his friends that had gone bad. Emma-Rose was showing so much promise too, and she had hit him over the head with the back of a wooden chair. Thomas closed his eyes, imagining the scene. Him, of course, surrounded by the five or so people that he’d known for three years. Emma-Rose, standing out in her pink baseball cap and grey striped cat shirt. She wore it often. She was the proud owner of seven grey tabby cats, and that shirt was one of the only ways to hide the amounts of cat hair she collected on a daily basis. Her normally passive face was twisted in some emotion Thomas simply couldn’t place. Someone kicked a piece of scrap across the concrete, and Emma-Rose hefted it in her hand before swinging it without hesitation at him. And then he’d woken up here. Hot, damp and full of hurt feelings and bruises. That’s what he got for trying to befriend CIA agents.
Con aka Samwise: They had stuck a drink next to my foot. It had made me snort with laughter behind my gag. For one, how does one manage to drink out of straw when gagged? And secondly, what good was it doing by my foot? I needed it in my mouth! The only way I knew to get it there was with my hands. And those were tied behind my back.
So I had snorted with laughter.
“What’s wrong, punk?” One of my captors asked, leaning over me. “Got a cold? Need to blow your snotty nose?”
I glanced up at his face. I finally understood the real torture of being gagged. One could not emit all the witty comebacks one comes up with. I sighed interiorly. I had come up with a really good one.
And then I realized that it was because of witty comebacks I was sitting here, gagged and tied. I frowned, and mused upon this. Maybe I should wear a gag at all times. I might live at least to my wedding date (if that day ever come…my witty mouth tended to make short work of my romantic relationships).
I wondered what they would stick on my tomb. If it was my older bro, I knew what it would say. It would be very accurate: “He was one Smart Alec.”
“How’s the gag smell, blabbermouth?” My torturer asked, getting right in my face.
That when I came up with the brilliant strategy to let him know. I breathed out, heavily. He inhaled, and then choked.
I raised an eyebrow. It wasn’t that bad, once you got used to it. I did suspect the bag they had tied around my mouth must have been used to carry manure, though. I literally could imagine my teeth melting right now, it was pretty much that awful. Maybe he had good reason to choke…
He turned back to the main group, and prepared to walk off. And then I decided to get the last word, without saying a thing. I reached back a foot, and kicked the McDonalds ice water they had given me. It rocketed up, and splashed all over his back. He screamed long and loud. McDonalds makes cold ice water, apparently. For once I was not disappointed with my meal from there.
Sabrina aka Legolas: Dare slumped to the cool stone floor of the dungeon, the cavernous walls dripping. The band tied tightly through his mouth tightened the tender skin. He strained half-heartedly against his bonds but fell back defeated. Why bother trying? Death was inevitable. Of course, the Kenoshians and the Nørthmen had bones to pick with him, they’d beat him to death before they actually got around to hanging him or chopping his head off. The Kenoshians usually favored the former and the Nørthman chose the latter, liking to use their battle axes to lob peoples’ heads off. Liking to see their victims bleed. Hence why he was bound, gagged, and bleeding in the castle of the Kenoshian dungeon. They took the gag off when they beat him of course, they liked to hear him scream as they tortured him.
If he wouldn’t have been gagged so tightly, he would have smiled grimly. How ironic. The people who despised him so much, were his people. The castle he was in at this moment, was his castle. The dungeon he was being beaten in, was his dungeon. He was the next Kenoshian in line for the throne. The ironic part? Everyone hated him. Kenoshians and Nørthmen alike. A half-blood couldn’t be king. Anyone but a half-blood should be king.
But, as the former King Dev had told him: only a half-blood could be king. Perhaps, a half-blood, half Kenoshian and half Nørthman, could unite the two lands that had been at odds for so long. There would be no prejudice or bias against either party because he was a part of both parties.
Now he had to somehow convince the entire kingdom that he was the rightful king. If he survived that long.
Zachary aka Kili: They were grabbing people from near where the explosion had gone off, and our Jeep had crashed. It appeared they were speaking to them for a second, then throwing them to the ground. Some they even tied up, and took away for further questioning. We were safe in the hospital, at least, safe from the Germans. Peter was in huge danger, I had another concussion, making it the second one this mission, and we hadn’t even left France! I got little sleep that night, but better than I had when I was sleeping in the back seat of Rocky. Have the night I stayed up praying, mostly for Peter, partly for myself, and partly for my family back home. The Germans could storm through the door at any second, and shoot me on sight. The next day, I was praying still, when the Doctor walked into my room. “Today we will perform the surgery. I hope you have done a good amount of praying, this could be a loss.” About 6 hours later, the Doctor came back in. “He’s…” TO BE CONTINUED…
Clarissa aka Bifur: I opened my eyes, heavy and protesting. It was dark, but I could barely make out pipes and a pool of water. The smell was revolting, and I would have gagged if I hadn’t already been gagged myself. I felt numb and sore, my wrists and ankles pleading with me. If I could just release them from the coarse rope that bound them together, their cries for help would be silenced. I tried to remember what had happened, what I had done, and eventually, who I was. I couldn’t remember my name or anything about myself. Did I like the color blue? Maybe I do like cats better than dogs. I grasped out straws in my mind, but nothing seemed to help. Everything hurt, and if I moved, everything cried out in agony. Heavy footsteps could be heard above me, and music that seemed like an angel’s song greeted my ears. Where could I be? I looked up, as if an answer would appear. A door slammed and I jumped-well not really, as it is nearly impossible to jump when one is bound and gagged so tightly. I squinted in the darkness, and then cringed as hot breath fell on my neck. I turned to meet the unknown. Eyes pierced my soul and internally I screamed as loud as I could while thick hands reached for my throat.
Tiana aka Bofur: Damyen groaned as he opened his eyes. His head throbbed, his hands were numb and he felt blood trickling from a massive welt on his forehead.
The room he was in was big and empty, not that he could see much of it in the lack of light. He tried moving his hands. Metal clinked behind him.
Handcuffs.
“Great” he groaned.
At least the pipe behind him was cold. It felt good on his throbbing head.
“Glad to see that you are awake” The Captain of the Titanic walked up to him. “Now, shall we talk about what you are doing here?”
“You talk and I’ll listen” Damyen growled.
“Well that is going to be a very one sided conversation, but very well,” he pulled up a stool, sat down and glared at him “You can do your talking later”