Haunting Blogfest!

IT'S SCARY TIME! ! It's Halloween month! It's an exciting time! Its the Write, Edit, Publish Haunting Blogfest!

Today I'm participating in Denise Covey's scary sharing time. I've decided to post a scene from my speculative fiction WIP, The Tremblers.

If you get a chance...stop by the other participants in the blogfest for a frighteningly good time! :)
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The Tremblers~

My heart stuttered, fear flooding me.
“Tell me what your father knew about the Tremblers.”
“My father? He was…they took him.”
“Colonel Blackburn of The Order knew and had information about what is happening. You are his only child. Now tell me what he discovered.” Riley slammed his hand on the counter. “Tell me what I need to do to stop this.”
“She doesn’t know,” Ashton said evenly.
“What is he talking about?” I looked from Riley to Ashton, confused.
“Oh, you haven’t told her?” Riley clicked his tongue. “You didn’t let her know that you’re in league with those violent killers?”
“Killers?” I searched Ashton’s face, but his impassive faced looked back at me.
“The rioters. They wreak havoc both here and below. You’ve heard of them, correct, Charlie?” Riley raised a brow. “They just caused a coal mine to explode. Hundreds were killed…murdered. He protects them.”
“What?” The image of Ashton standing close to Lizzie snapped to mind. She had the scarf of the rioters. She spewed their hatred. “Ashton?”
“We can’t be sure it was them.” Ashton’s gaze slid from mine and I fought the doubt churning. I shook it from my mind.
“No. He’s trying to find out what is making the monsters too.”
“Monsters?” Riley yelled, making me jump. “They are more than monsters.”
“Riley, we are both—” Ashton began.
“No! You protect Lizzie and her violent tactics. Their actions send the Security Forces searching for them to Outer City’s ports. They bring nothing but brutality to the people up here. To my people. How long before they throw bombs at our towers?” He pointed a finger in Ashton’s face. “You may have pried Lizzie from my jail, but you will not leave here with Blackburn’s daughter. I will have my answers. I will stop what is plaguing my city.”
“My father didn’t tell me anything, I promise you,” I cried. “Please, what is this about?”
“You want to know?” Riley rounded the corner reaching for me.
“Riley, don’t,” Ashton stepped in front of me, blocking him. In an instant, the lawman was there with the wand. The prod connected with Ashton’s chest delivering a jolt.
I screamed as his head whipped back, his body going rigid with the shock. “Stop, just stop!”
“I’ll show you what your new friend Lizzie and her minions are doing.” Riley took me by the elbow, propelling me across the floor.
Over my shoulder, I saw Ashton slump to his knees, his dark gaze finding mine as he looked up. Riley pulled me to a barred door, heaved up the lock, and flung it open. In the soft glow of an ambient lamp, the cage in the corner of the room shook violently. I screamed, stumbling back, but Riley held me in place. Horror engulfed me as I took in the quivering limbs of the half-naked man. He snarled and lunged at the bars with pale, blue tinged skin. The smell of rot and filth blasted from his mangled face as he gnashed his ruined teeth at me.
An anguished wail tore from him as every muscle in his body convulsed sending his jet black eyes rolling into his skull. The floor tilted underneath my feet, the buzz in my ears overwhelming as I felt myself lose grip on consciousness.
“Don’t faint,” Riley yelled shaking me by the arm. “You look at this. Look at him and tell me you still want to protect Lizzie and Ashton’s secrets. Those explosions, the chemicals they use, they’re making monsters of innocent men.”
“I – I don’t…” I couldn’t speak, my mouth working around words that wouldn’t come. “What…what is that?”
“A Trembler. There’s more every day and The Order…Lizzie…they all know why.”
“No, she…” I didn’t know her. I didn’t know anything about her. I only knew what I saw in front of me; a gnashing, writhing creature in pain. I looked back at Ashton, his anguished expressing stripping me to the bone. He knew something. More than what he had told me.
“Do not say another word, Charlie,” Ashton breathed.
“Ash?” The look on his face made my blood run cold. He did not hesitate to forfeit my father. What would stop him from sacrificing me at the altar of his Order as well? “But, my father…”
“I heard when they took him, he gave you something. Information,” Riley snapped. “What did he tell you? What do you know?”
“No, Charlotte.” Ashton held my gaze.
I wondered now, at Lizzies words. She’d asked me if I thought I was able to trust Ashton. As if she knew the cost might be too steep to weather.
“Well, Miss Blackburn?” Riley raised the gun to my head. He pulled back the hammer and the sickening click of the tumbler sent my stomach lurching. “He will never betray The Order. Will you?”

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I hope you liked my creepy scene and I hope you hop on over to WEP for some more scary scenarios!

Deleted Scene Blogfest

Mia over at My Literary Jam and Toast  is holding a Deleted Scene Blogfest today. 

As a writer, having to delete scenes that I love, but don't necessarily belong in my WIP is hard.  I feel like I'm abandoning a kitten or something.

 As a 1st person author...I find that writing in 3rd person helps me get me out of my writing ruts. I started a story last year as a way to help me through some writer's block on another book. I had a few scenes in mind, but never blocked out the whole story. I eventually threw the pages in a "Blips and Blurbs" folder I keep with ideas.  

The Set Up:
Cayden and Laynie, friends since childhood, meet up again at the funeral for Cayden's mother.  They're in their early twenties, still in college.  I wanted to show a relationship that was a friendship heavy with history...something that I could mold into a romance later, if I needed to.

So here is my deleted scene...

Jade Crossing

Chapter One

People trickled out and by midnight everyone had left the house; his mother’s funeral finally over. Cayden sank into the dark leather reading chair by the fireplace in the library and let his head drop back and stared up at the ceiling. He saw Laynie out of the corner of his eyes standing by the picture window that overlooked the driveway rotunda. Arms crossed in front of her chest, she leaned a hip against the wall, her lips pulled into a frown.

“Your step-dad is leaving?” She asked. “Did he bother to talk to you at all tonight?”

Laynie and his step-father had a hate-hate relationship.

“I avoided him, not the other way around,” Cayden murmured. He leaned forward, snaked a crystal bottle of vodka off the wet bar, and pulled out the stopper. “I found some pictures.”

Laynie looked over at him with knit brows. “What kind of pictures?”

Cayden took a pull on the bottle and shuddered. He held the crystal stopper to his bruised eye like a kaleidoscope and looked at her. She lit up in a dozen facets of light. “The kind private detectives take of cheating spouses,” he said quietly.

“Oh, Cayden,” Laynie whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

Cayden shrugged and swished the alcohol around and around in the bottle. “This isn’t new information, Laynie.”

“I know, Cayden,” Laynie murmured. “Still must hurt though.”

She walked over to him, sat on the coffee table opposite him, and put her hands on his knees.

“They were fanned out on the floor in front of the tub,” Cayden said and his voice caught in his throat. His mother’s pale arms floating in scarlet water flashed behind his eyes. A tremor quaked his stomach. “I picked them up after I called 911.”

“You told him? Your father?” Laynie asked. “When?”

“About two seconds before I got this,” Cayden said wryly and pointed to his black eye.

“What happened?” Worry lined her delicate features, pulling her pink lips into a frown.

“He was making noise about my going back to school early,” Cayden said. “He told me I needed to get my head back in the game.”

“That’s horrible,” Laynie spat. “Your mom just died!”

“Yeah, well, we argued and he shoved me, and I punch him, and he returned the favor,” Cayden said quietly. “He wants me to move out by Monday. He wants to sell. ”

“But you grew up here!” Laynie said indignantly.

“I grew up in various ‘boarding schools’,” Cayden said and made quotes in the air with his fingers. “I spent summers here.”

“We spent summers here,” Laynie murmured. “Coming here is the only thing that kept me sane.”

Cayden reached out and ran a hand through her dark hair, feeling the silky softness wind through his fingers. “Kept us both sane,” he whispered.

Laynie cocked her head to the side, looking up at him at an angle. She smiled and then said, “Teresa told me you haven’t eaten in a day or two,” Laynie said finally. “She said you haven’t slept either. She said you wander around the house at night.”

Cayden let his hand drop to his lap and encased her hand in his. “You worry too much.”

“No one worries enough about you, Cayden,” she said exasperated. “You need to stop drinking. You need a decent meal, and you need to sleep.”

Cayden put the bottle on the wet bar and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. He hit his sore eye again and winced. He looked at Laynie through bleary eyes.

“I can’t sleep,” Cayden answered. “I can’t stop my mind from churning, and I can’t lay still. If I do nod off…I see her, Laynie.” His breath caught in his throat. “I see her just… floating in the tub.”

Tears burned his eyes and he got up and walked to the window, and he wiped them away, angry. He put his hand flat against the glass, holding himself up and keeping his back to her.

“Oh, Cayden,” Laynie said behind him, her voice breaking. He heard her get up and then her arms were around him and she hugged him with her head against his shoulder blades. “Come here.”

“I should have seen…” Cayden breathed. “I should have known.”

Laynie was shaking her head. “No one saw this coming, Sweets.”

She pulled him around by his hand and led him back to the couch. She sat down on the end of the couch, pulled a pillow to her lap, and patted it with her hand.

“Come here,” she urged him.

Cayden sat down next to her and after a few seconds let himslef topple over, his head landing on the pillow.  Sighing, he looked up at her face. She smiled and ran her fingers over his eyelids, closing them. Laynie stroked his brows, humming something. Cayden took a breath and his throat ached.

“Just rest your eyes for a minute,” she whispered against his cheek. “Only a minute, and  then I’ll stop bugging you.”

Three days of exhaustion hit Cayden all at once, and he floated along on the sound of her breathing. Her perfume, the feel of her sweater on his face, the warmth of her legs under his neck, all of it slowed him down, and his mind drifted off.

The last thing he remembered from that night, the night of his mother’s funeral, was being in Laynie’s arms.

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I'd love to hear your thoughts on this scene, the characters, and whether or not the emotion rings true.  I might turn this into a novel in the 1st person, Laynie's POV, or maybe Cayden's? 

I encourage you to take a trip to see the other awesome entries at My Literary Jam and Toast. Unil next time...Go Write!

Photograph by maveric2003, Uploaded on February 17, 2007.

Dying and Eating...InThat Order

Today I am participating in Lilah Pierce's Last Line Blogfest.  There are  a lot of great entries and I encourage you to go on over to Lilah's blog to check the rest of them out.

This excerpt is from my finished novel, Purple Knot.

To set up the scene, my main character, Reyna Cruz, received an urgent call from her ex-fiance, Jimmy, asking her to fly home. Summer, Reyna's best friend was attacked in her home during an burglary and Reyna has medical power of attorney.  Reyna has to decide whether or not to do an emergency C-Section to save the baby...because it is very risky for Summer in her wounded state.

Summer's family, especially the mother, Mona, hate Reyna for breaking Jimmy's heart and don't want her involved. Jimmy is Summer's brother. Banfield is the doctor.

Purple Knot

“As her guardian, you need to do what she would want,” Dr. Banfield said looking at me. “Whatever the reason, it was her wish, that you make these decisions for her, if she were unable. Summer signed those papers on purpose.”

I was frozen, brain locked with panic, when a shrill tone tore out from the monitors over Summer’s bed.

“No!” Mona wailed taking a step towards me as people ran into the room swarming Summer’s petite body.

“Ms. Cruz!” Banfield snapped. “I need a decision, now.”

Mona lunged toward me, but Jimmy pulled me to him and wrapped his arms around me. She bounced off of his back, crying. I turned to look at Summer. She would never choose herself over her child-never in a million years. I grabbed the consent form from his hand and scribbled my name frantically.

“Do it! Take the baby!” I screamed at Banfield.

Mona wailed and launched herself at the bed, trying to pull the defibrillator paddles off the machine herself, but a burly resident yanked her to the side. Banfield barked orders, and someone climbed up onto the bed and pushed on Summer, giving her CPR, and then they were wheeling her across the room and out the door. They disappeared behind two swinging doors leaving us with the shrieking machines, blood on the floor, and the deep hollow of knowing that someone you love is not coming back.

Mona took another step toward me, but Jimmy put his hand up stopping her. Her eyes were furious, and she shrieked like a mythical animal.

“You’re a murderer!”

She spat in my face.

Jimmy growled and reached out for her but she was too quick. She slapped me across the face, and I let her, not bothering to put my hands up when I saw it coming. Blood from my lip sprayed out in front of me onto the floor, and I thought it strangely ironic that Summer and I would both shed blood here. Jimmy grabbed Mona's arm, spun her around, and marched her out of the room.

“A murderer!” She yelled again over her shoulder, yanked away from Jimmy, and ran toward the stairs, crying Summer’s name.

The nursing staff and families of other patients stared transfixed at our surreal drama. And still, the stupid machines screeched their reproach that something was terribly wrong.

Ten minutes later, Dr. Banfield returned. The baby had made it, Summer had not.

Crushed, I sank to the floor and slumped against the nurse’s counter as sobs ripped through my body like my stomach was trying to come up. My throat so full of ache that the pain of her loss wouldn’t escape. Then Jimmy was there, and I just wailed silently. Shaking and sorry and angry that my Summer was gone.

Thats it for my entry for the Last Line Blogfest... 

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Onto the 50 Followers Baking Blogfest over at Charity Bradford's My Writing Journey.

The challenge: Write a scene where your MC bakes something, anything, good, bad, yummy, burned, anything. Have fun with it, and post it on your blog on May 1st.

My current WIP takes place in the swaps of Louisianna. I thought I'd take the opportunity to make on of my favorite southern dishes...Bouillabaisse!

Bayou Blue

Steam flailed and whooshed out from under the metal lid rattling it against the lip of the large pot like the constant chattering of my teeth. Sitting on the wood stool wrapped in a scratchy wool blanket I blinked the water out of my eyes. Outside, the rain pelted the tiny window over the sink. I glared at the distant lightning and frowned. The storm would be here soon.

“I told you not to go,” Jake drawled, his lazy smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Now what, ma belle…you look like a drowned kitten.”

Ma belle…my beautiful.

He hadn’t called me that before. I smoothed my tangled bands with my fingers, but didn’t answer. Pursing my lips I watched him pull the pan bread out of the stove. The scent of warm bread right out of the oven made my mouth water. Jake coaxed it out of the wrought iron pan with his pocket knife and smoothed butter over it. Instantly melting, it seeped into the crevasses of the uneven surface.

The cabin’s pot belly stove gave off waves of heat in the small room warming my toes and sending the heady scent of boiling Bouillabaisse floating in my direction. My stomach growled. Tarragon, fennel, and creamy broth made my mouth water despite my chill.

Cocking his head to the side, Jake looked at me with concern. “Are you warming up yet?’

Still feeling stupid, I nodded and cleared my throat. “Yeah.”

My eyes flit to the bandage on his bicep. His prize for fishing me out of the swamp when I’d tried to take off with his boat. He'd been right. I should have listened to a man who grew up on these waters.

Jake knit his brows together. “You don’t stop chattering you’re going to vibrate right off of that stool,” he mumbled. “Hold on.”

He wiped his hands on a dish towel and pulled a blue and white speckled mug from a hook over the pot belly stove. Ladling some of the soup into it he handed me the mug and smiled.

“Thanks,” I murmured. I cupped my hands around the mug warming my palms and breathing in the steam. “This smells wonderful.”

Handing me a piece of he baguette, he smiled. “Best if you dip it.”

I did, and the savory soup made me smile. Jake could cook, that was for certain.

Jake’s eyes went to the window, and he shook his head. “Ill fait mauvais.”

“I’m sorry?” I followed his gaze to the storm. He often slipped into his familial Cajun-French when worried.

“It’s a bad one.” He said and sighed.

I wish I'd realized then, that I would barely survive that storm.

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Be sure to come back and visit during The Primal Scream Blogfest - Your Most Heart Pumping Scene on May 5th. If you'd like to participate, sign ups are on the side bar. --->

Photograph by boliston, Uploaded on May 27, 2008. Photograph by J.J. Verhoef, Uploaded on April 14, 2009.

Z is for Zai Gezunt - Be Well

So I'm not a big user of Yiddish, although my husband's family is from New York - The Bronx and Yonkers...so I have heard it a lot.  Zai Gezunt means, Good bye and Be Well.  And I wish that to all of you.

Since this is the last day of the A-Z Blogging Challenge I wanted to say that I have had such a wonderful time getting to know each of you, learning about your passions, and hoping with you for your hard work to pay off.

I look forward to the updates as I am following you all, and the May 3rd Mega-Post...over at Arlee Bird's Tossing It Out.  I know that a few of you are on upcoming Blogfests and I can't wait to read all of your entries. I'll be looking for ya!  Until next time...Ah...You know.

I is for "Its Gonna Be a Bloody One Folks..."

In keeping with my A-Z Blogging Challenge, I've entered a Blogfest hosted by Anne Riley. Today's theme is is "I" is for Its-gonna-be-a-bloody-one-folks-murder-scene-blogfest... try saying that three times fast.  So I was a little on the jittery side because...well, I don't write murder mysteries.  I write Christian Romance/Suspense.  I'm a little out of my element here. But I guess that is the point of the whole excercise, isn't it? To hone my craft by stretching my little trembly writer's wings. 

I've written a scene that actually goes into my book, Ruby Dawn. Its a flashback from my main character's past and it is her point of view.

Murder Scene:

Dresden Heights – Six Years Ago

It never rained this hard, not here anyway. But it was raining, and the noise was like a thousand marbles on a pie tin. I told myself this could be a good sign as I crawled on my hands and knees across the sheet metal roof of the abandoned bus station. I hoped the rain masked the sound of the metal bowing under my weight. Rust and dirt sloughed off the roof and I dug my fingers into the pitted metal, struggling to keep from slipping backwards. I looked over my shoulder, at the asphalt two stories below, and shuddered.

Heights are bad, really bad.

I crested the roof and peered over it to the empty lot where they used to park the buses. Defunct for nearly six years, the bus station now served as a graffiti magnet and crash pad for street kids in the area. The bottom doors and windows were barred, but I’d asked around and a girl in Biology told me to look for windows on the second floor that everyone would use to get inside. I scanned the roofline and found them. There was my way in; a row of vent windows with broken glass like jagged teeth in the rusty face of the building.

I turned on the roof, swung my feet down toward the ledge, and let go. I slid down, flailed frantically with both hands, and caught hold of the vent window’s frame. Panting, I spit rainwater from my mouth and teetered along the building’s outside ledge on my tip-toes.

You can do this, Ruby. The strength will come, it’ll come.

I took a deep breath and side-shuffled passed the first window. My knees trembled as I forced myself to look down into the hollow maintenance garage below.

The vague, block-like shapes of toppled lockers made huddled forms in the darkness below. Lightning streaked overhead and gave me a flash of the torn girly magazines and trash littering the floor. I flinched when the thunder rumbled over me, and I gripped the window frame with aching fingers.

Two windows down, I lowered my legs in through the roof and poked around with the toe of my tennis shoe for the one locker section still standing upright. Tongue out, concentrating, I started when I heard Tom yelling from somewhere inside the building.

Frantic, I aimed where I thought I saw the lockers, closed my eyes, and jumped down. Slick with the rain overhead, I pawed and scratched for a handhold on the slippery surface of the lockers.

Another desperate echo bounced along the fallen lockers and empty halls towards me. My pulse shot prickles down through my fingertips and I lost my grip. I hit the filthy tile floor with a wet smack.

Gasping for breath, I called out. “Where are you?”

I scrambled to my feet and squinted into the darkness. My name floated back to me from the bowels of the dark building. I stumbled towards Tom’s voice. Slipping on the wet trash and magazines, I tripped over something solid and went sprawling to my stomach. Hitting the edge of an overturned table, the breath whooshed out of me again.

Tom shouted from far away. “Don’t do this! Stop!”

My side on fire, I pulled myself back upright and lurched forward. Panic exploded in my chest. I yelled again. “I’m coming, I’m coming!”

I hoped my voice would stop what was happening, that the thought of a witness would stop Griffin. Tom’s pain-filled howl stabbed through me. I ran blindly bouncing off walls to get to him. Up ahead, the weak light from the street lamps glowed through the hallway door’s broken window.

Almost there!

Griffin shouted angrily and I sprinted, heart tumbling in my chest, toward the sound. I nearly lost my footing and staggered out into the maintenance building’s open courtyard. A few yards ahead, Tom and Griffin tangled with each other against the chain-link fence.

I screamed.

Griffin’s head snapped towards me and he snarled with wild eyes. “You stay out of this! This isn’t about you anymore!”

Tom stood pinned against the fence with a knife to his throat. His busted lip dripped blood onto his torn white t-shirt.

Tom strained in Griffin’s grasp. “Ruby, get out of here!”

“Griffin, stop!” I pled.

Griffin ignored me and turned back to face Tom. He grabbed a wad of Tom’s t-shirt and shook him like a rag doll. Rain poured down from the sky and splashed around their feet.

“Griffin! What are you doing?” I screamed. I edged closer, my mind reeling.

I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know how to stop this.

Griffin didn’t look at me when he answered. His eyes, transfixed on the knife at Tom’s throat, narrowed with rage.

“He has to pay,” Griffin yelled, spittle flying out of his mouth. “He needs to pay, don’t try to stop me!”

Rain dripped off their noses and matted hair. I couldn’t make out Tom’s face, but his hands shook as he pushed against Griffin’s knife hand.

I inched forward. If I could just get close enough to distract Griffin, then Tom might have a chance. “Please, you don’t need to do this,” I said evenly.

“No, this is exactly what I have to do!” Griffin snarled.

Closer now, I caught Tom’s eye, tried to tell him what I was doing, but Griffin was already moving. He lunged with the knife. Tom twisted in his grip, and I screamed as my hands barely brushed Griffin’s arm.

And then everything went silent. I remembered later that the rain fell without sound for those few frozen seconds.

Griffin’s eyes went wide, lit up with the lightning flash, and crimson spray fanned across my white t-shirt. The blood started to run as the rain poured down on us. My heart rammed in my chest, and I staggered against the fence.

Then everything sped back up, the noise hit me like a physical blow, and I heard the knife clang onto the asphalt. Terrified, I locked eyes with Tom. His face already going white, he reached out to me.

My eyes went to the gash in his side and my heart stopped.

Tom’s eyes swam as he looked at me. “Ruby?”

Photograph by FranUlloa, Uploaded on January 5, 2007.

Dont forget to sign up for the Primal Scream Blogfest - Your Most Heart Pumping Scene, here on April 19th. The Blogfest will take place on May 5th...can't wait!

Alternate Version Blogfest Day!

One of my favorite Bloggers came up with a fun and interesting idea for April 1st. She writes YA fiction and proposed the idea of submitting a portion of your work in progress followed by the same section written as if in a different genre.  Her submission is quite funny and inspired me to give it  a try.  So here is a section of my contemporary romance/suspense followed by the same scene...written as a paranormal fantasy:

Suspense:

For some reason, the cafeteria lights never seemed to be very bright in the east corner. I didn’t know if it was a design feature to make the televisions hanging from wall brackets easier to see, or it was just bad florescent bulbs. Either way, I liked to sit in the corner booth, put my feet on the seat opposite me, and relax with my eyes closed after my shifts. I was doing just that when I felt someone slide into the seat across the table from me. I opened my eyes a crack, gasped, then sat straight up.

Antonio glared at me in the dim light. A sneer pulled at his puffy pink lip while he looked at me. My eyes slid to the tattoo of a black handprint on his neck. The number thirteen scrawled under it made my stomach flop. “Been making yourself scarce, huh, doc?”

I fought to control my breathing and hoped my face didn’t show the fear I felt tightening my throat.

“What are you doing here?” I hissed.

Antonio clicked his tongue and waved his tattooed finger at me.

“You still haven’t learned any manners, doc? Not even after your car got jacked-up?”

I leaned back against the vinyl seat and looked at him. He was actually proud of himself. I tried to keep from shaking.

“The car was a piece of junk, you did me a favor, Tony,” I said with a hiss. “And your little high-school pranks didn’t change anything. You’re not getting anywhere near my clinic.”

I wanted to sound tough, but my voice came out in a hushed squeak. Antonio shook his head and leaned in on the table.

“You’re messing with fire, doc,” he said angrily. “You don’t want anything to happen to that sweet secretary of yours. Or better yet, maybe your cop friend, Farrell, will get a domestic call and get a bullet through the forehead when he walks up to the door, eh?”

He reached across the table and poked me between the eyes so fast I didn’t have time to pull back. I gasped with surprise and fear.

“You got one more chance, doctor, what’s it going to be? You take me on as a silent partner,” he said and made quotes in the air with his fingers. “Or you pay the price for getting on my bad side.”

I balled my fists under the table. Fear and anger boiled in my gut. His threats would never end unless I gave in, but then his drugs and his boys would destroy the clinic and my career. His greed would destroy everything I built over the last few years no matter what I did. All the people that relied on my clinic were going to suffer. Tears burned my eyes, and I blinked them back, suddenly furious. I slammed the table with both palms and jumped to my feet.

“Get out!” I yelled at the top of my lungs. “Get out of my hospital! Security!”

Startled, Antonio looked at me like I was crazy and then scanned the room. Everyone in the cafeteria looked in our direction, some people stood at their tables. Scurrying across the carpet, Mike and another guard rushed over to us, their hands on their weapons.

“You’re gonna pay for this!” Antonio growled. “You’re gonna wish you were never born!”

“We’ll see about that,” I snarled back.

He turned and pushed past Mike and the other guard knocking over a chip rack on his way out. They followed him at a distance, making sure he left the hospital. I watched him leave, dread pooling in my chest.

Turns out, he was right. I did pay.

Paranormal:

I walked down the hall on the basement floor of the hospital, my stomach knotted with dread as terrified patients and staff scrambled away from the cafeteria. Even without the fleeing throng, I knew he was here; his presence sent a crackling thrum along my spine. Inside the room, Antonio seethed with rage. I could taste it in the ether.

Closer now, the door to the cafeteria bulged and caved with the force of his fury. Cracks webbed along the ceiling and puckered the floor. I swallowed against the lump in my throat, willing myself to take a step forward, then another. I couldn’t back down; there was no hiding from him, not now.

“Antonus,” I yelled from the hall. “This won’t bring him back.”

A blast surged through the doors, slamming them into the opposite side of the hall. The force of the wave knocked me to the linoleum. Bits of wall and glass rained down on me, slicing my arms, my face.

“I told you what would happen, Reya, that you were playing with fire,” his voice, quaking with anguish echoed out from the dark room. “Now you’re going to pay. All of you.”

Images of Lilliana, her pale skin lit from within as she reached out, healing the young ones. I couldn’t let him hurt her. Clenching my eyes shut, I took a breath, steeling my nerves. Bensha’s premonition was correct; there could be only one.

“Show me that you’ve learned your place, Reya!” Antonus screamed. “Show me or you’ll wish you’d never come to this place!”

I stepped into the mouth of the ruined room, my breath coming in hitches. The heat rose from my stomach in a trembling wave, and I brought my hands out to my side. Blue energy pulsed at my palms. The light, swirling at superheated speeds, flew from my hands and charged across the dark room. A jagged whip of power slashed across his body throwing him across the carpet.

Teeth bared, I screamed, “We’ll see about that!”


If you liked visiting my alternate universe, have a look at the other entries for The Alternate Universe Blogfest at Livia Blackburne's blog.

Photo by: ComputerHotline, Uploaded on May 25, 2009.