QuotebotJoin Date: 2012-03-28
Post Count: 1854 |
This used to be chapter one, but alas it was too short. REMEMBER, this is still under development. Enjoy.
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The EXTENSION.
Prologue.
I, the author, have decided to write a little note at the beginning of each chapter… Makes things more… Interesting? Hopefully. Please do not be confused by the perspective change.
When you know death is nearing it’s corner towards you, you will be spending time with your beloveds and friends. You will spend you time figuring out your inquiry, and planning for actions. Spending time reading or playing video games when death is about to sneak up on you, is a foolish choice. Well, unless of course you are a wimpy, lazy, ignoramus. Or you are frightened. Being frightened is normal. It goes for a lot of things, and appearences. For one thing, being yourself may scare you, if you are completely different or have different interests. But this fear does not apply to HERE. And thus, it is a different type of fear that applies here.
Even so what kind of fear is brought into this story? Well, this is a strange story. A story of a girl being a newbie in a town trying to stop an evil plaugue take place while fighting the monsters. Nothing out-of-the-ordinary to be matter-of-fact. Do you not agree? Of course you do not! Even I do not agree with myself! Of course this is insanity! Ignore the lack of sanity in this because, this story is a good one, I assure you. Many of you will want me to continue, Let us!
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Winter Morton was 12 years of age. Black hair with a white streak she added herself. Long hair. Dark green eyes. Pale skin. Skinny. She was spunky and brave. By all means she has been the cat that curiosity has killed many times! But family and friends were the satisfaction that had brought her back. But now, she was in her parents minivan, her tablet on her lap, looking out the window of her nearing sorroundings. Her new sorroundings. They were moving, and Winter was upset. She had heard her parents speaking again and again, not actually telling they were moving, but giving context clues in their speech. Here is how it went:
“Mom?” Winter would ask.
“Yes dear?” Her mother would reply.
“Why are you packing these…Boxes?”
“You will see soon enough, dear!”
Winter would nod, pondering across what may be happening. Moving was one of her thoughts of concluding options. But alas, moving was the correct answer. She left her horrid memories and returned to the present time. Her parents were on their phone. Her dad (The one who was driving.) was trying to keep his cellular between his cheek and shoulder. As for her mother (The multi-tasker.) was holding her phone the same position as her father (Between shoulder and ear.) on her 3G laptop sending at least 50 e-mails for applications for college students that would be attending the school they will be working in. Where they were moving was along the coast of Oregan.
“Darn… I have lost connection!” Winter’s father had yelled.
“Quiet Henry!” Winter’s mother had yelled. Winter sighed. Her parents stopped yelling as Winter put on her headphones. Winter felt dead. She felt like the rest of her childhood would be abselute torture. And it was for a couple reasons. Moving was the main reason.Winter thought about her old social life.
She thought about her two best friends she had moved from. Joshua and Ana. Ana was a loud smart blonde girl. Joshua was a quiet and energetic boy. It made Joshua quiet, strange so-to-speak. Winter was a mix. That is what made them friends. The oppisites attracted and since Winter was a mix and had her own personality, which made them all friends. The unfortuanate news was Winter never gave them a civilized farewell. She did e-mail them, but they never replied.
“Winter are you well?” Mr.Morton asked.
“Yeah… I guess…” Winter replied glumly. Winter felt tired. She leaned her head against the back seat. It was a 4 hour ride, and they were 3/4th of the way there. Only a half an hour more… Then I can stretch my legs and enjoy my new home. Well only if it is a nice home. I could end up hating it- DARNIT ME! Stop with the negative thoughts. Focus on my new home. Maybe it is big… Maybe we will have a mansion. Winter thought to herself. Soon after she was in the middle of imagining the type of room that would be her room soon enough, she fell into a deep sleep.
***
Winter had odd dreams. Much of them nightmares, which she became used to.Just the other night, she dreamed a ghost came out of her laptop, and attempted to posses her. Her parents stared at her with that my-my-we-have-quite-the-child look.
But this dream, inside her car on the way to her new house, dream, was odd. Obscure, frightening, and the strangest adjective of all to describe this, was threatening. In her dream, she awoke on a rugged path. The path was made of sand, with many rocks pointing out in odd directions. She stared at the sky above her. Rolling grey, boring clouds. The clouds released a drizzle. And along the sides of these paths were demolished walls and bare, dark brow trees with twisted branches. Winter walked for about 10 minutes after seeing a more modern wall. On the wall, was a window, a small one. And in front of that wall with a window was a chair. The chair spun around revealed a shadow with red eyes. Blood red eyes. And it had teeth. It smiled at Winter.
“Welcome home, WINTER.” The creature whispered. Winter blacked out…
***
Winter awoke in her car. She sensed they were nearly there, due to seeing a coastal town with a tall, rusty, lighthouse overshadowing the sea. The town was loud, though. It was lined with many streets, small cottage-like houses, and many cozy, small, café and stores. There were mountains that could be spotted in the distance, and the clouds drizzled, just like her dream. Winter went back to thinking of her dream. She knew it was just a dream. It was nice that it was not real, or she would be in deep trouble. She had read dreams like these in books. Or watch them on the television. Finally they passed through the town and came out to some woods. The woods leveled out and at last, they passed a one-story modern looking house. The thickness of forests went away, and trees became more seperated. They came across a creek with a short bridge they overcame in seconds. Finally they came to a right-angle-like curve in the road. And to their right they saw a house.
The house sat upon a hill with a couple of trees scattered upon it. The house was very modern looking. It had two floors, pretty house. A small brick path, oddly enough painted yellow, led down the hill and stopped a few feet from the road they drove in. Winter stared closely at the window of the house. It was one of those windows that were made up made up of three glass panels, and two faced out and the one on the in the middle was faced like a regular pannel of glass. But looking out of that window was a boy, about Winter’s age, who wore a fedora. The car went to quickly so she could not see him.
Minutes later, the car stopped.
“We are here! Our new home!” Exclaimed Winter’s mother.
WELCOME HOME, WINTER. Those words rang through her head, again, and again. Her new house stood above her. Her large, empty, victorian, and painted grey house. It all screamed welcome home. This was her new home. She heard her parents speaking about the house. She walked to the back. A run-down garden, empty and dead. Beyond there was a trail that led to a field, then to a forest, then up a mountain. She quicly fled to the front. The house was at least three stories. It casted a shadow over her.
“So this is my new house. Kind of old. And what was with that dream…?” Winter whispered to herself. Maybe it was better looking on the inside? Possibly. She had a trouble thinking period. It was all so much to think about. She wasn’t depressed anymore. She was overwhelmed, and pleased. She could still see her friends on occasion, mostly through electronics. She could lead a new life. A better one. When her brother visits from service of thei country, she shall show him around. He would be envious of not being still being 12 ¾. She laughed at the thought of his face. A 19 year-old-man being jelous of a 12 ¾ year-old-girl. At last that thought left her mind. A new one was brought in. Will he be well enough to even laugh…?
She stared at the house. It screamed what her dream had said. A gust of wind blew towards her. Her hair flew in her face. But the wind didn’t howl, it spoke. Not spoke, it whispered. Do you want to know what it whispered? Duh, of course you do! It whispered “Welcome to your new home, dear.” So, the wind welcomed her. She shivered.
“New home…” She whispered.
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