Right, here you are, i aim to please!
Jesus, that makes me sound like a prostitute xD
So, anyway, i don't see any more followers, so i take it you don't want to hear Jodi's past in one stupidly-incredible-bloody-long-piece-i've-already-drafted-and-edited-around-with-just-to-make-you-lot-happy? Plus, come on people- i need more quiz questions!
So, here we go:
James McCali was an ordinary teenage boy. His parents had gotten divorced when he was Seven, and his mother fought custody of him, and won. On James’ Eleventh birthday, his father came up to the house, and told him that he had to teach him something magical. Something James would be proud to have control over throughout life. His mother found them, and dragged James back inside. “He doesn’t need this,” She had screamed. “He doesn’t need you!” Still, James could not dive into the conversation without his mother spilling tears across her face.
Yes, James was just like everyone else. Which is why, at 5am one morning, when a girl was falling out of the sky, he wasn’t heroic. He didn’t soften her fall. He didn’t call for help.
At 5am that morning, James McCali fainted, and was caught by Israel Esyluim, who laid him down gently instead of pushing him aside as he had considered that day. Israel rushed forward to catch Skylara, but instead he pushed into her mid-flight, twisted her body around his so he fell underneath her. Israel sighed with relief, rolling his head back to relax. That could’ve gone much worse, and Israel had seen every outcome already.
Jodi Harte was spiralling towards the ground, and she didn’t care. She kept her eyes wide open all the way down, grinned too widely and laughed too loudly. Skulduggery Pleasant rushed downwards, grabbing her jumper by the collar. Jodi’s foot skidded off the top of a roof as she was pulled upwards: it should’ve been much worse, and Jodi should’ve be smiling with her mouth twisted in blood, or with her legs detached from her body. But instead, she was flying, breaking the boundaries of gravity, feeling unlimited by this; this amazing opportunity that had approached her this morning.
She still saw a red world that burned each time she blinked. She still felt sharp edges of pain prick her pupils while she watched the world go on below.
In fact, if she had been able to, she would’ve told you this world looked quite familiar.
Somewhere out there, a man walked into this world again for the second time in his life. His body collapsed against the ground, and he brushed his fingers against it. Grass. He couldn’t remember the last time he had touched it’s winter dew, or the cold texture as it shifted through his fingers. All he knew was that he was back.
The end had been simple. Two lights had flashed into his empty eyes as they tore him from the road. His last end here was much like the beginning. A truck broke off from the main road in the distance, and wondered through the darkened forest. It tumbled, and crashed on its side. It fell, inches away from the boys face, and he stared at the white metal in front of him. He hadn’t realised he had been breathing so hard, or that his heart was drumming faster, as if the tempo could speed up the boy’s natural defence system. He was weak. He had no control. And he was alone.
It was hours later when someone found him:
“Hello?” A girl said. “Oh my goodness, are you alright?” The boy didn’t respond. He lay there, in clothes that were burned at the crisp edges, a pale suit that had been in fashion almost a century ago. “What’s your name?”
For a while, the boy didn’t even hear the gentle syllables. He didn’t bother to try to either. “One sec,” The girl said. “I’ll get help.”
He may not have known whether or not he was alright, but he didn’t want to be alone. “Wait,” The boy called out into the winter frost as she disappeared through the tree. “Necros,” He muttered through blue lips. “My name is Necros.”
Another girl was wondering in the forest that night, looking for something to kill. She pushed back the branches of trees slowly, trying hard not to let the snow crackle and split beneath her feet. She heard a sound within the distance, and grabbed her bullwhip from the inside lining of her coat. Bridget Whiplash stepped backwards, fading into the shadows. “Hello!” A teenage girl screamed, stepping out of the darkness. “Can anyone hear me?”
Bridget waited; the girl hadn’t seen her yet. The girl stopped dead, staring in Bridget’s direction. Silently, Bridget cursed, lunging through the air and forcing the girl’s mouth shut. Bridget hated rushing this part, but still, she had no choice: what if someone else caught her while she had only just begun? What if someone stopped her, what if they got away and told the police that a vampire was on the prowl? So Bridget pushed her fangs into the girl’s pale neck, and ignored how the girls pulse slowed, until her body fell to the ground. Bridget quickly pushed a needle into her own arm, trying to stop the sweet sensation that trickled down her throat from overpowering her. And that’s when she noticed a whisper that swarmed through the air.
She followed it, resting the girl against a tree. Bridget had no time to hide this one if there was a witness nearby. She could easily dispose of them both later.
The boy she found was actually quite handsome. Not the 'let’s snog now hottie', but the 'cute type'. Bridget lifted him upwards, noticing his blue lips, and the frost and snow that ran through his hair and coated his eyelashes. Bridget spared a second to question what the hell he was wearing. She hadn’t heard that the 80’s style was coming back into fashion.
Bridget opened her mouth to ask for his name, when a purple mist hit the forest. They both tumbled to the floor, being pushed down further into the ground. The man’s eyes stayed wide open the whole time, just starring at nothing, as if waiting for his body to completely fall beneath the ground. When it stopped, Bridget struggled to stand. She had a throbbing headache, and she rubbed her temples to stop the pain, as if it would help. “Necros,” The man cried out quickly. “Necros-” And then he faded into unconsciousness.
Bridget sighed, rolling onto her back. Tonight was going to be a very long night.
So hey lookie! Yes, we just met Necros. Yes Bridget is back to help. And heck yes, my character is beginning to become some-what stuck in yours heads, am i right? Because i realised that no one knows YOUR character better than YOU, so it's truly up to everyone to give a image of them in their own stories, instead of adapting it around everyone else's
Hellboy... Jesus, post the next part already! Or i shall attack you with my favourite Glee Quotes!
*cough* *splutter* *choke* *cough* *cough*
You threaten me, I threaten you. So here's a tip for all writers out there:
If you need a break...
HAVE A KITKAT!!!! xD