Ok, this is something that I enjoy, just to see how people try to reconcile their different kinds of writing. The way this works is that I create a stroy-starter, and whom-ever wants to posts a reply with the next section of the story. Each person writes whatever seems appropriate(to them) for the story-line, and we all see where it ends up. I have to lay a couple of rules, and if I have to, I will as a Mod or Admin to help me.
1) This is going to be a clean story. I say this to mean, love-interests are OK, but not the love-life. What's between the sheets is not good writing material for this. This does not mean you can't create a sexy character, you just can't show them performing privately.
2) Violence is OK, just not gratuitous, or too graphic. I don't really care how many pints/gallons of blood is spattered where. If your part of the story can be written without Kill Bill amounts of blood and gore, please don't include it. If it can't be written without all the blood and gore, reconsider what you are writing, or PM me with concerns about the previous post(s).
3) This is supposed to be fun. Don't post something that will convince someone that this thread should be closed. That would make me very sad.

Sorry if I sound bossy or high-horse or something. I just want everybody to feel comfortable posting here. On With The Show!


:arrow: Javer looked out across the forest. He wasn't used to seeing so many trees. Living in a city, there were always people and traffic and noise. The only noise out here was wind and birds and bugs. The house out here was huge, and secluded, far away from all that Javer had know. Besides this, his room was several floors up, so he had a good veiw, and with his window facing west, he didn't wake up to the sunrise. Since the owner was busy, and the house staff had their jobs to do, he spent a lot of time feeling alone. To try to avoid the pervading lonliness, Javer had begun spending much of his time in the large library the owner of this house had assembled. Two stories of bookshelves in one of the largest rooms in the house gave plenty to occupy even a slightly interested reader.
But it didn't keep Javer from wondering what he was doing here, and why he had been sent away from the city.


SO, why IS Javer here? What happened in the city that he was sent away? What is the time period? Medieval, futeristic, modern or some mix? Right now, all of that is pretty much up to YOU! Write on, and find out what happens. :D

As Javer sat absorbed in his own thoughts and several books, which he switched between from time to time, the lights in the extensive library flickered off. From somewhere in the back off the came several loud thumps and a high-pitched squeek of pain. Javer sat for a moment or two, blinking his eyes as they adjusted, and then pushed himself up out of the plush chair. As he went to see if he could turn the lights back on, a figure came around one of the bookshelves, running smack into him. Javer rubbed his nose and glanced at the person. It was a rather average looking girl. She wore a loose, dark green outfit with long black boots and gloves. She had cropped, brown hair and green eyes, which glowed slightly. Her lips were pursed slightly and one dark brow was raised. As he studied her, she rubbed her shin gingerly.
"Watch where you're going!" She snapped, whirling around to limp away.

Javer watched her go without thinking about it much, but, suddenly did when he went to investigate what he had heard further. The air suddenly filled with a girlish, high pitched scream, and it took him a few moments to realize he was the one screaming. He clamped his hands over his mouth in horror, muffling his own shrieks. Before him lay a horribly mutilated body. The smell should have been enough to tip him off to not go back there. But, it was a fresh scene, so, the smell was still flowering. It was that metallic smell of blood mingled with the smell of raw ground beef. That smell only came when a body was hard to discern as such. The legs were, at least nearly unrecognizable. His throat stung and he felt the acidy vomit rising. His eyes dared to dart up, to see what else there was. The torso was actually mostly intact, but, the face, which was completely intact, was the worst. It was twisted in sheer horror and agony. That face, that face would haunt him for years to come. He turned, leaning heavily against one of the bookshelves and hurled. There was no grace to it, no strength, he hurled.

Someone came, to investigate the screams. A teen who worked there, who he could never determine their gender. They were called Alex, and wore clothes that could hide the anything that would give them away. They were also just before that age that their voice would change, and, Javar had been too polite to ask their gender, not wanting to offend the youth. Alex looking away, made the sign of the cross, and muttered, "Not another one, God, please, not another one." The youth's unformed body began to tremble, tears, Javar could only assume, wracking the small body. "Come on, Mister," said Alex grabbing the older man by the elbow, "let's get you out of here, I'll go call the police."

Javer was horrified and bewildered. He had been sent here to be safe, although he didn't know from what. Now this happened. It had been peaceful, quiet but that was shattered now.

The police tried to calm him down, but Javer couldn't even hold his cup of chamomile tea in his hands. What horrer had come to this place? The police seemed shock too. One young man retched at the sight of the body. This was not a usual occurence.

"I'm sorry. This creature, we don't think it's human,has been attacking people. We're trying to track it down but..." the police woman sighed. "The only sign it leaves is the body. It's been moving from town to town, and it moves too quickly for us to easily find it." She frowned.

Javer tried to slow down his thoughts. Who, or what could have done this? Could it have been that woman? A strange beast? Javer was conflicted, wanting to run away and to hide in bed.

With an aggravated sigh Javer snapped the book shut. He had wanted nothing more than to lie in his bed and read his book about adventurers in far off lands, but his eyes couldn't focus on the words. Every time he tried to slip off into the imaginary land that face came up and he started.

The lifeless eyes and the contorted features haunted him. Javer shuddered and clutched the book to his chest. He much preferred the monsters in print over the real ones.

A tentative knock on the door broke him out of his reverie. "Yes?" he called to the door. He had always been taught to never open the door unless you knew the visitor. After today's event, he would practice caution.

"It's me," answered a familiar voice.

"Sarabel?" He couldn't believe it. His sister had gone off to school a few years ago and he hadn't known when she'd come back. Now, when he needed her most, she had come.

"Yes." She opened the door, smiling.

"Sarbel, I missed you so much!" He ran towards her and gave her a huge hug. Then he noticed something funny on her neck.

There was a long, black gash running from the bottom of her ear to her collarbone. It probably dropped lower, but Sarabel wasn't the sort to wear a low neckline. At a glance, the mark appeared to be some sort of tattoo, but up close one noticed that the black was the black of old blood. It's texture was grainy, and it reeked.

"Sarabel..." His voice was softer, hesitant now. His sister that he knew so well was suddenly unfamiliar.

"What is it, Javer?" She noticed where his eyes rested and gave a little laugh that seemed forced. "Oh, this? This is nothing. I got attacked on my way here, and it doesn't seem to want to heal properly. It's alright though. The doctor said it shouldn't cause me any pain."

Javer stared at the scar and then raised his horrified eyes to her face in inspection. He looked over her every feature to make sure that the thing on her neck was the only mark of the attack. After he was assured that nothing else of her had come to harm, he embraced her again, tighter this time.

"You worried me..."

Sarabel laughed, lightly. "It's nothing. But that woman, do they know what killed her?"
Javer's face fell. "No. Did you see what attacked you? It was probably the same."
Sarabel became serious. "No. You okay?"
"No. It shook me up pretty bad. I'm so glad you're here. Why are you here?"
"My employer told me to find you. No idea why, but I'm happy to be here. I've been so busy lately. I'm so sorry..." Sarabel looked out the window.
"It's okay. Let's see if we can at least get you cleaned up." Javer and Sarabel walked out the door, heading towards the local doctor.

"Are you sure it wasn't a wild dog?" The doctor peered at the wound intently.

"I'm not sure what it was. The attack came out of nowhere. I think I blacked out," Sarabel explained for the third time.

The doctor scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Yes, yes," he muttered. "It's just that it seems like something with claws made this wound. It's too big to have been a cat--the big cats have been gone for years now. I don't suspect a wolf because you wouldn't be with us now if it were. I'm guessing it was some ill trained whelp or a wild dog."

"But there's a strict leash law here, and I've barely seen dogs around this city," Javer said.

"Yes, well, then it's probably a wild dog."

Javer and Sarabel exchanged glances. "So..."

The doctor smeared some foul smelling ointment on to the wound that felt surprisingly nice and stuck a bandage on top it. "There. All you have to do is keep it clean and replace the bandages. There's no infection, but I'm afraid it will scar. Come back if you get a fever or if you feel acute pain."

He nodded as he washed off his hands and began to usher them out the door. "There, there. Good day to you both!"

When the door was closed Sarabel shrugged at Javer. "What a strange doctor."

"Some are just pushy, I suppose," Javer commented.

They walked down the path together, assured by the doctor that the dreadful gash was perfectly harmless.