You may recall me mentioning in an earlier post that I am currently writing a book...well a series of books really. I've decided to post something from the book up here. This is just a rough draft of a scene I plan on having in the third book of the series. Any feedback is welcomed.
Inky
tresses swirled about their owner’s head, as if they were alive, as she made a
violent twist. Her body spun counter-clockwise, her right hand sweeping a
jagged edged scythe. Reflections of the fire and broken buildings around her
were reflected on the weapon’s silver surface.
Flames danced not only in the streets, but in her cerulean eyes.
A dark
red liquid was creeping down the scythe’s blade, distorting the reflections of
death playing across it. As more of the liquid was gathered, it made its way
slowly down the reflective surface. The liquid became like crooked fingers as
it wrapped itself around the wrist of the young woman holding the scythe.
“Axel!”
her head whipped around, searching for the person screaming her name. The
glowing flames and dark smoke made it hard to see and gunshots drowned out
sounds. She could barely hear the person calling for her. The voice wasn’t
clear enough for her to tell its gender, let alone who it belonged to.
The war
around her was raging on. A large chunk of metal fell to her right, just missing
her by mere inches. It’s weight disturbed the concrete below, causing spider
web like cracks to form and throwing small pebbles into the air. A few of the
concrete pebbles made contact with the flesh of Axel’s face. She threw up a
hand to shield herself but her actions had been too slow. A few small pieces of
the debris flying through the air hit her in the eye. She fell, her knees
hitting the ground below her hard as she struggled to rid her eye of the foreign
objects. Her body’s natural cleansing ability in her eyes kicked in. Water
formed in the corners of her eyes as she blinked repeatedly.
“Dang
it!” she cursed. She had dropped her scythe when she fell and was now rubbing
at her eyes furiously to clear them.
“Axel!”
There was her name again, but where was it coming from?
“What?!”
She growled into the smoky air.
A pair
of black boots scrapped the broken concrete. Their movement came to quick stop
in front of her. Axel’s eyes, still
having trouble seeing because of the rock in them, traveled from the scuffed up
boots to their owner’s black covered legs, to the white shirt and black vest
covering their owner’s torso, and finally came to rest on the sharp angled face
of Lucifer. His left hand was held out
for her, his right holding a complicated looking sniper rifle. The nearing flames
gave his silver-blue eyes a danger glow and cast his long shadow over her.
“Come
on!” the man with the liberty-spikes demanded. His hand snatching hers and pulling
her up from the ground.
Axel barley
had enough time to grab her scythe before being dragged around a corner and maneuvered
through a crowded ally way. Chunks of debris were everywhere. Pieces of
building and cars blocked their path. Forcing them to shimmy between walls and wreckage.
“Where
are we going!” She yelled over the sounds of gun fire.
“Back
to base.”
“We’re
retreating?”
“Regrouping,”
he corrected.
“Why?”
“It’s
all part of the plan.”
“You
know, I don’t think everything you say is part of the plan is part of the plan.”
Lucifer
came to a sudden stop. His body shifted to face the raven-haired girl. His eyes
were as cold as steel. “Everything I
do is part of the plan. Every order I give is part of the plan. The deaths our
team experiences are not. Those are the consequences of war, and it’s because
of the consequences that plans change. Hence why we’re regrouping. So, no. This
was not part of the original plan,
but not much is at this moment. You just have to trust me. You’ve let me lead
you this far, you need to let me lead you the rest of the way.”
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