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Post by orinocoflow on Aug 5, 2010 15:50:17 GMT -5
should i continue? “Sure, why not?” came a deep voice. “There’s an interesting movie playing this Friday evening, so we can go see it. And afterwards, why not we try out that new restaurant by the lake? I hear it has great reviews so far.”
Jane looked at a pair of bright blue eyes that she knew so well. This time, however, alongside the happiness, she could see a slight worry that had never been there before. Making sure that he did not know that she had seen it, she smiled, placing a hand on his.
“Okay, what time?”
“Movie starts at six fifteen, so around six.”
“All right, see you then.”
With a quick kiss, Paul left as she stepped back into her house.
Jane closed the door and leaned on the wall beside it. There was something about that concerned expression that she had not liked. Paul always told her everything, and yet now, it was obvious that he was hiding something. Why? What was it?
Pondering that, she went up for the night.
* * *
It was Wednesday when the doorbell first rang. When she answered it, she stopped mid-greeting, staring.
A man stood there, tall, with eyes that resembled a husky’s—diamond-white with a dark blue rim. His black hair was short in the back and long in the front, covering both temples and his forehead. Even so, being shorter, she could see a strange tattoo on the right temple that looked like a snake curling around a word in an Old English font. He was well over six feet, and the black clothes emphasized everything about him that was already terrifying as it was. Overall, he was exactly what you would call LETHAL.
“Yes?” she asked, watching him carefully and ready to close the door at any moment. Somehow, though, she had a feeling that it would be a futile effort.
“Is a man named Paul Byrom around?” the man asked in a low tone. His diamond eyes were fixated on her in a very uncomfortable glare.
“N-no,” she stammered. Stop! Don’t let him know you’re scared! Her mind told her, but she could not.
He frowned, catching that. He stood there for a moment longer, and then with a “Sorry to bother you, ma’am,” he turned on a booted heel and left, striding away around the corner.
Shutting the door firmly, she sagged against the frame, panicking. Why had that man wanted to talk to Paul? Shivering, she did her best to ignore it and wait to ask Paul when he showed up.
Only a couple more days… she thought. What can go wrong?
* * *
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Post by Deleted on Aug 5, 2010 16:40:48 GMT -5
hmm i like please update
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Post by Deleted on Aug 5, 2010 16:48:12 GMT -5
Ooh, creepy. And I adore the way you described the mans eyes, it was brilliant! Yes, please keep updating!
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Post by laurenne on Aug 5, 2010 19:46:59 GMT -5
Sounds good. More soon, please.
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Post by orinocoflow on Aug 6, 2010 0:48:33 GMT -5
The rest of the day went normally, except for two hang-ups.
Thursday, however, was not as fortunate.
She had just returned from shopping and was struggling to open the door while juggling a bag that a hand grabbed it and held it. She opened the door, and then it hit her that she was no longer holding the bag. Veering around, she gasped when she saw another man standing there. Not bothering to get the groceries back, she tried to get into the house and slam the door when a body hit the door and forced it inwards. Shutting it behind him, the new man stood in front of it, but made no move to hurt her.
Finally calming down enough to see clearly, she stood with her back pressed to the wall opposite the door, observing the figure that was casually leaning against it.
This one was also tall, with wavy brown hair and amber eyes. Those can't be real, she thought, staring at the golden eyes. They seemed to glow in the dim corridor. Otherwise, he was much like the first fellow—dressed in black with an aura of danger about him. He was only about an inch taller than Paul, though.
“All I want to know is where Paul Byrom is,” came the quiet question. “I know that you know who he is, and that he is out of town. Where, and when he is returning, is all that I want.” Seeing her frightened expression, he added, “I’ll leave afterwards, and we won’t bother you again.”
“What do you want from him?”
“We’re old friends of his; we just need to find him fast for something.”
She regarded the intimidating man in front of her. Could she believe that? Would Paul ever be friends with someone like that? She wasn’t so sure.
“No, I don’t know where he is or when he’s coming back,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. No need for them to know.
He stared at her for a long time, more criticizing than the first man had been. After five minutes of just looking at each other, he dipped his head and nodded. “All right, if you won't tell, then that’s that. But honestly, we are his friends,” he said over his shoulder as he left, placing the bag of groceries on the counter and shutting the door behind himself.
For the second time that week, she had a horrible feeling in her chest, as though something was going to happen.
* * *
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Post by Deleted on Aug 6, 2010 0:57:31 GMT -5
*gasp* Update soon!
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Post by Deleted on Aug 6, 2010 10:30:24 GMT -5
please update i am really into this
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Post by orinocoflow on Aug 6, 2010 12:16:29 GMT -5
Friday. Finally.
All day, there was no mysterious visitor. As she got ready in the evening, she was scared that someone would follow her. When no one showed up at six, she waited. At six thirty, she got worried and went to the movie theater. But there was no luck—Paul had not showed up there either. She returned home, and played the missed calls.
“Hi Jane. Look, I’m sorry; I just can't go with you today, something came up. I’m really sorry; I wish I could. Please call back.”
“Jane, please, I’m getting worried. I understand if you’re mad, but there’s something I need to talk to you about. Please call as soon as you get this.”
She stood there, wondering whether or not to call him.
Just then, the phone rang. With shaking hands, she picked it up.
“H-hello?”
“Jane? I was getting worried! Is everything all right?”
“Where are you? Did you…” forget, she finished silently.
There was a pause. “No, I did not forget, Jane,” he said softly. “I wish I could tell you where I am, but…it’s complicated.” There was a muffled commotion on the other end, and she heard Paul press the receiver to his shoulder, say something to whoever was with him, and then get back to her. “Look, I have to go. I’ll call you back later, okay?” When she did not reply, he said, “I’ll explain everything, I promise you, Jane. Please…”
She sighed, her breath ragged. “Just be careful, okay, Paul?”
“All right, I’ll keep extra eyes out.” She could just hear his smile in his words. “Talk to you later.”
“You, too.”
She replaced the phone back on the receiver, thinking. What was going on? Where was he? Who was he with?
* * * ok, this is it, now i have to write more.
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Post by CelticLass91 on Aug 6, 2010 12:30:18 GMT -5
Well, hurry up! lol
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Post by laurenne on Aug 6, 2010 18:35:49 GMT -5
I loved it. More soon, please.
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Post by celticbear on Aug 6, 2010 19:50:27 GMT -5
Ori I love it! Paul is up to his old Govt Spy bid again! So update soon.
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Post by Deleted on Aug 6, 2010 20:03:22 GMT -5
oooh getting better cant wait to read more
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Post by orinocoflow on Aug 7, 2010 19:58:30 GMT -5
Dear Readers,
ok, originally, i was going to have this storyline:
paul as a seriously smart guy with IQ up in the 200's who, as a joke when he was a teenager, created a program that could crack any code or smthg like that, but only he knew the code to use it. now, his friends need to find him to uncrack it because of something important, i havent decided yet.
now, tho, i have decided to make a different twist on this, so i am putting this story on major pause as i work on my idea. be prepared to see updates to this story in about a month at least, okay?
and it will be in the series section from then on.
Thanks guys! -orinocoflow
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Post by orinocoflow on Nov 25, 2010 13:55:09 GMT -5
sorry i havent updated in a while, but i wanted to finish another story first. once you read this update, you will know what i have planned oh, and sorry its so long--i didnt realize how much i'd written Jane looked around her room, wondering what could have kept Paul from coming the night before. Spying a framed picture on her bed stand, she walked over and lifted, looking at it, remembering where and when it had been taken.
This had been taken on a sunny day while they had gone out to the beach. They had just spent about an hour wading through the crashing waves and running away from the tall ones, laughing when they had been forced to climb onto some rocks and stay there while the foaming waves smashed against the base, spraying them with drops of the salty water. A photographer had caught sight of them and taken about a dozen pictures on his camera, and then later in the day had walked up to them and given them the pictures, saying that he had never seen anyone enjoy themselves as much as they had. And the pictures were really wonderful, the sun shining off of their wet hair and the roaring water, giving the pictures a sort of magical aura.
This was her favorite one: they had just been surprised by a particularly strong wave that had soaked them after colliding with the rocks, and here they were laughing, Paul shaking his head to get the water out, his hair bristling as he dragged a hand through it, his face glowing with that inner radiance of his. She was laughing as well, holding onto the rocks to keep from sliding off. He had an arm around her waist, and together they appeared to blaze in the afternoon sun.
Smiling at the memory, Jane put the frame back down with a sullenness as she thought about whoever Paul had been talking to when he had called the night before.
But then she stood up, frowning pensively. What was stopping her from going over to his house and asking him what was wrong? Why not? Grabbing her purse, she drove over to do just that.
* * *
His place had always astonished her, yet she had never been inside. Even so, it was absolutely impressive from the outside as well. A large Victorian-style house of a dark gray shade with an even darker roof; a large garden—or forest, depending on how you saw it—was in back of the house, and the “front yard” of the place was also overgrown with ancient trees, giving it a haunting air; finally, old, intimidating gates with intricate designs, all black as tar, surrounded the whole territory. Overall, the effect was amazing, and given the fact that it stood alone on a hill just added to the whole “older than time itself” impact of the place.
The gates opened to her when she drove up, surprising her into a complete halt. Did he know that she was there? she asked herself, not sure how to proceed. When the gates still stood open for her, she managed to push the gas pedal hard enough to glide into the enormous courtyard that was hidden by all of the trees. Immediately, the iron gates closed behind her with an echo that rang through the still air, frightening her.
This is ridiculous, she told herself, frowning at the closed gates. I will get out; I have nothing to worry about.
Parking the car in the corner out of the way, she walked up to the front door, staring at the old knocker; it was some sort of gargoyle’s face, with sharp features and long, curved fangs. Shuddering, she reached out to knock, gasping at how cold the metal was: it was much colder than the air outside, seemingly at least at freezing point, if not colder. Shivering again, she softly knocked, the sound ringing louder than she had expected from something like that.
After a moment, the door opened…but there was no one on the other side, only the darkness of the front hall. Biting her lip, she walked inside, careful not to knock into anything. As soon as her eyes adjusted, however, she stopped, her mouth slowly dropping open when she saw what was around her.
There was an eerie, warm glow to the room, yet at the same time it was chilling, like in a museum. And in truth, it felt like one as well, with the deep red wallpaper that looked as though it had been there for at least two centuries. Large paintings covered a generous amount of the walls, depicting who were no doubt important people from centuries past, if their clothes were any indication. Swords of several different types, makes, age, condition were hung on the walls beside these priceless paintings, sometimes crossed and sometimes in special racks that held them. Again, they too seemed to be at least a few centuries old.
He lives in a museum? she wondered, looking around the house as she walked further inside, amazed by what she found. A staircase of a beautiful, polished wood led to another level, but she was not sure that she wanted to go up and see what was there. Deciding to leave that for another time, she walked up to a closed door and tapped it quietly. Hearing nothing, she cautiously opened it, almost afraid of what she would find.
Books. That was all that she could think about when she walked into that room. Bookcases covered every spare wall in the room, reaching from floor to ceiling, from wall to wall, and completely stuffed with books. As she walked closer, she saw that most of the books were at least from the beginning of the century and going backwards, with only one bookcase dedicated to newer books, some of which at least she had heard of. As she looked through that case, she saw that she had even read some of them, but otherwise none of the titles jumped out at her.
What in the world does he read? she mused, pulling out a book and gaping when she saw that it wasn’t even in English. Checking the date, she was astonished to see “1756” printed neatly at the bottom of the page. Swallowing, she replaced it in its place on the shelf, afraid to so much as breathe on the books lest she ruin them.
Leaving the room and closing the door behind herself, she turned to consider the staircase. Sighing, she went up to the next level, the steps creaking with even the lightest shifting of her weight. At the top of the staircase, she glanced around the hallway, eyeing the closed doors.
The first was some sort of closet, with random things inside that she could not see in the darkness. Closing it again, she stepped into the first one…and froze.
Computers and all sorts of technology she had never even heard of before, never mind seen, stood on smooth tables, the kind that you would expect in a top-secret agency or something. They were all running some sort of programs, the codes of which she could not decipher, except for a few in the corner. Walking over to them, she saw that one was scanning a pair of texts in a foreign language and appeared to be translating them into another language…or rather, a long stream of symbols and hieroglyphics of a type she had never seen. Again, this room provided her with something new. The next two screens had different views of cameras set up around the house, but there was no one in any of them except the computer room, where she could be seen standing. Glancing in the direction of where the camera must have been set up, she frowned when she saw that it was nowhere to be seen. Apparently, someone had paid attention when figuring out where to hide them so that they would not be seen.
The last screen was idle, but when she touched the mouse she was surprised to see a list of text in that same indecipherable language of hieroglyphics that she had seen on the first screen. They appeared to be in specific clumps, and it took a while for her to realize that it seemed to be a sort of map with different colors for different…words? Whatever those symbols meant.
Leaving the room, she crossed the hallway to the next room. When she opened it, she smiled to herself when she saw that it must have been his bedroom. Knowing that most men would not be too pleased if she were to look through their rooms, she closed it again and went to the next room, no longer knocking since she knew that there was no one in the house except for herself.
This was a study, with a large bureau of a beautiful wood, a dark red-brown color that was neatly polished. A few bookcases lined the walls, but there were also some sort of cases in the corner. Walking over to them, her eyes widened when she saw that on the bottom shelf was a wooden box carved with intricate designs, the contents of which she could only wonder about; on the next one was another box, but this one held old coins that were carefully organized by country, type, and date; there must have been several hundreds of them! On the next shelf up was a collection of figurines carved from stone, wood, ivory, and what looked like jade from South America from centuries ago. Once more, this just added to the whole feeling that this was a priceless museum. On the top shelf was also a set of figurines, but they were made of crystal, and she realized that some of them no doubt belonged in a vault, if not all of them. Shaking her head, she turned away, careful not to touch anything.
Coming back to the desk, she saw that it was cluttered with old books, and there was a thick pad of paper with neat notes on it in the same hieroglyphic text as on the computers. Curious, she lifted a book and opened it, but then dropped it back on the desk when she saw what was pictured inside.
The page that had been marked with a slip of paper showed a group of men, or were they? One was completely hooded in a black robe, nothing visible of his features except for the glow being set off even through his robe, obviously meaning power radiating from him; the most disturbing thing was that he did not even have a shadow, unlike the rest of the figures. The rest of them were well away from the man, as though he was his own class, and they were all tall, and each with their own differences. One was in the form of a man, but seemed to be more shadow than anything else, with his shadow lurking just underneath him, as though he had control of where it went. Another stood with his arm around a friend, and she gasped when she saw how similar he was to the man that had come a few days before, the one with the golden eyes. The one whose shoulders he had his arm had an incredible likeness to the one with the diamond eyes, the tattoos on his temple giving away the similarity. There were two more men; one was taller than the rest, with long, black hair reaching to the middle of his back, and his wise eyes were shaded a grayish-silver color even in the black-and-white print she was looking at. He looked dangerous, the slight smile on his face chillingly deadly as he spoke with the man he was standing beside. But when Jane looked at that man her breath caught and she gasped, not sure she had seen correctly.
He was tall, almost as much as the one with the long black hair, but there was nothing in his eyes except cold brutality, nothing like the mischievously sadistic one in the golden-eyed man’s or the thoughtful one in the diamond-eyed man, nor was there the ancient wisdom as was in the tallest man’s gaze. No, there was nothing in his stare except harshness and determination, the kind that clearly said that he would do anything to get what he wanted. But what scared her the most was that he looked exactly like Paul: the hair was long in the front and short in the back; the face was as lean as his; and the stance was one she had seen many times before—casual, yet ready to jump at any moment. She had always wondered what had caused Paul to be so jumpy, but he had always smiled and then found a way to distract her.
Suddenly, there was a crash as the door was slammed open, and she screamed when she saw what was on the other side, her screams muffled by the thunderous, threatening snarl that suddenly filled the air.
* * *
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Post by orinocoflow on Nov 25, 2010 23:35:33 GMT -5
guys, i know its long, but at least try to read and comment!!!
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