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#Post#: 363--------------------------------------------------
Casey's second fantasy draft
By: caseyholland Date: February 19, 2014, 12:20 am
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She woke up from the sensation of falling.
Though she'd previously felt as if she were caught in an
eternal plummet, when Layken Hollis opened her eyes she found
herself wrapped cozily in the blankets on her bed. Still her
tiny body gave a massive jerk and she sucked in a panicked
breath, her eyes darting around the room as if she were a
trapped animal.
Traces of a nightmare lingered along the outskirts of her
memory, something Layken wasn't desperate to hold on to. She
instead focused on settling her trembling body by counting down
from ten in her head, a tactic she'd learned from her mother
when she was a little girl.
Of course, she wasn't a little girl anymore - at eighteen,
Layken was fully grown in a physical sense. Her head and heart
begged to differ, though, especially when she found herself
haunted by nightmares that made her long for nothing more than
to crawl into her parents' bed and snuggle in between them.
Sometimes, Layken still felt small.
Her breathing slowed after a few moments and she let her eyes
flutter closed again, a relieved sigh escaping her lips. Her
ragged, worn-down appearance gave the impression that she'd just
run a marathon, when in reality she'd done just the opposite;
she'd only been sleeping, but the prison her mind had become was
more exhausting than anything she'd ever endured in the past.
Layken's breath caught in her throat, her heartbeat
quickening when she realized with sinking dread that she wasn't
alone in the room. He was still there. She bit down hard on her
lip, willing this living nightmare away but to no avail. Slowly
the young girl opened her eyes, a seemingly empty room greeting
her.
She knew better than to fall for the illusion of solitude.
She couldn't see him, but she could feel him in the goosebumps
rising along her arms and the twisting of her gut. After dealing
with these side-effects her entire life, Layken knew when she
wasn't really alone. The unwanted presence caused a chill to
settle over her bedroom and she could see the faint fog produced
by her breath.
The door. He was standing in the threshold of her bedroom
door. Layken reluctantly turned her head towards it, seeing the
faded outline of a hulking man. There were no details of his
face that she could make out, but his size was undeniable, his
frame taking up nearly the entire area of the door. He was what
children's ghost stories were made of; He was the shadowy
monster that hid in closets, under beds and in basements.
But he couldn't touch her.
They both knew he couldn't touch her, at least not while she
was awake. He could taint her mind and haunt her dreams, but he
couldn't physically lay a hand on her. This was why he only
showed himself while she was asleep. He attacked her when her
mind was left vulnerable. When she slept, her mind was left
open, and he was free to bury himself in its depths and unleash
his wrath where she had no power to fight back.
This knowledge made her grow bold as she slowly sat up, her
eyes narrowing into a glare as she whispered one word through
clenched teeth.
"Coward."
The house shook with the spirit's rage, her door slamming
shut and jarring the walls of her room. Layken didn't flinch at
his tantrum, too occupied by the fact that his presence was no
longer with her. The cold followed his lead and it was as if the
entire room became brighter, the sun beginning to peek in
through her window with welcoming rays of light and warmth.
For someone like her, this was a normal way to start off the
day. People like he saw these faded presences where no one else
could. As a witch, and more importantly a necromancer, she had
received visions like this for as long as she could remember.
This "gift," as it was so often described by other witches,
was not common to all witches, though. There were three gifts
that those with witch blood running through their veins could
possibly be born with, and they could only be born with one of
the three.
Those with pure hearts and good intentions were blessed with
the ability to heal with their magic.
Those with an untameable spirit were born as elementalists,
witches who could start fires with their minds and, at some
levels, manipulate the weather.
And, at the spectrum opposite of healers, were the
necromancers. A certain darkness surrounded the hearts of those
who could see, and communicate with, the dead. Those who had
harnessed their abilities enough even had the potential to bring
the dead back to life.
To Layken, this particular "gift" had always felt like more
of a curse than anything else.
Layken sighed as she buried herself under her covers once
more, the previous confrontation making her dread facing the
rest of the day. But there was one place, if nowhere else, that
she needed to be.
---
"Watch your step."
Snow crunched under three pairs of feet within the gates of
Miller Creek's small cemetery. The town itself was small, small
enough that most residents knew each other on a first-name
basis. The close quarters did make hiding her gifts from human
eyes a more difficult task, but Layken had eighteen years of
practice under her belt. As long as she was awake, she could
keep the spirits at bay.
Layken whirled around when she heard a yelp from the lanky
boy, Tobin, at her side. She could only watch as her best friend
toppled over in a heap of limbs, biting down on her lip to
prevent any giggles from escaping. The third member of their
trio, as tiny as Tobin was tall, didn't hesitate to burst into a
fit of laughter.
"Why does it feel like your maturity level lessens as you
grow older, Mia?" Tobin grumbled as he got to his feet, rubbing
his rear for emphasis. Mia snorted, muttering a soft phrase that
caused the ice beneath Tobin's feet to melt.
Others were not so concerned with hiding their gifts, at
least when there were no humans nearby.
"Lighten up," she replied with a grin, giving him a light
smack on the rear. Tobin yelped again, flinching away from her
with narrowed eyes, like an ornery cat who'd had enough with
being taunted.
Layken let out an exasperated sigh, though the corners of her
lips gave the faintest twitch of a smile.
"I don't even know why I brought the two of you along," she
said as Mia linked their arms together.
"Because we provide the entertainment," Mia retorted lightly,
Tobin raising an eyebrow at her words.
"How much entertainment is really needed in a cemetery?" he
asked. Layken opened her mouth to respond, but Mia was quick to
beat her to the punch.
"Plenty, when you're around at least," she teased. Tobin
rolled his eyes and Layken laughed, gently linking her arm with
his and adding him to their human chain.
The trio chattered mindlessly as they continued on toward
their destination, the voices of her two best friends
temporarily keeping Layken's mind at ease. Any passerbys looking
at the three of them would see how they meshed and think it a
miracle they were able to find each other.
In reality, though, it was no miracle that the three of them
were drawn to each other; It was magic that made them vibe the
way they did, and as the only three witches outside of their
parents in Miller Creek, it would have been possible for their
paths not to cross. Their magic acted almost as a magnetic pull
toward one another, bringing them together within the walls of a
kindergarden classroom.
Still, Layken liked to believe that they would've found each
other anyway.
All too soon did they reach their stopping point, coming to a
synchronized halt in front of two gray headstones. Two names
stared back at them with differing birth years and the same year
of death - 2014, the year Layken was born.
Her eyes were on their last name, Riley, the last name that
was supposed to be hers. It would have been, had the two of them
still been alive.
"Hey, Mom," she said, her voice soft against the gentle
breeze. "Dad."
Her biological parents gave no response, not that she
expected them to. They were buried in the ground below her. She
wouldn't see them, not as she saw the spirits that visited her
nightmares. Layken had a feeling, one that left her feeling
hollow, that they had moved on soon after they passed in the car
accident only nights after her birth.
She'd never known them, which was why it was so easy for her
to accept the Hollis last name, to accept her mom's best friends
as her parents. The only ghosts she'd ever wanted to see had
already left her behind.
Tobin and Mia had put their banter aside at this point, Tobin
hesitating only a moment before he gently placed a hand on
Layken's shoulder. This was their monthly ritual, though Layken
would occassionally visit without the company of her friends.
After the night she'd had before, though, their company felt
almost vital.
And so the three of them stood in a comfortable silence,
Layken blocking out the other presences that the graveyard tried
to throw at her. For now, her mind was reserved only for the
parents she never met, but wanted to meet more desperately than
she'd wanted anything else before.
---
#Post#: 364--------------------------------------------------
Re: Casey's second fantasy draft
By: caseyholland Date: February 19, 2014, 12:20 am
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That night, Layken wasn't greeted by the image of a shadowy man.
Her mind instead took her to the back seat of an unfamiliar
car. The seatbelt constricted around her body like a snake,
holding her against the seat uncomfortably tight. Layken
squirmed slightly where she sat, her brows wrinkled together in
confusion. Something felt strange.
The driver and front passenger were unknown to her, only
visible by the backs of their heads. Layken felt her stomach
drop slightly when she noticed their hair colors, a soft auburn
red - the same shade as her own.
Could it really be?
The faces that finally turned to look at her prompted her to
let out a gasp. Their features were tight, frozen as if
photographs and not actual faces. In fact, Layken was looking at
two faces she'd only ever seen in photographs. She was looking
at the faces of her parents, her real parents.
Her throat felt too tight for her to speak, any words she
tried to muster coming out strangled. It wasn't until she was
blinded by a white, oncoming light that she was able to scream,
"Look out!"
The white light overpowered her voice, and everything around
her, as Layken's senses were overtaken by the sound of
shattering glass and shredding metal.
When her eyes opened again she was back in her room, though
her instincts warned her that she was not yet awake. Sure
enough, when she looked to the side her attention was drawn
instantly to the same shadowy man from her previous nightmares.
"Why did you show me that?" she demanded shakily, the man
looming over her. In her dreams, his presence demanded the
essence of power. In her dreams, Layken couldn't help but fear
him.
She didn't expect an answer - he'd never answered her
directly before. So when she heard his voice, sinister and
sounding almost as if it were being whispered into her ear, she
found herself flinching away in surprise.
"I was showing you what you lost," he said, his tone as
casual as one would use when striking up a conversation in a
coffee shop. "So it would be easier to show you that I, too,
lost something that night."
Layken shook her head slowly, before it dawned on her. She
never had wondered who else had been in the other car from her
parents' accident. At least, she'd never wondered until that
moment. Now, she had a feeling she was looking right at the
other victim.
"You lost your own life?" she said quietly, phrasing it more
as a question than she would a revelation.
The shadowy figure merely nodded, his expression still
hidden. "Not that far from your parents' graves, you'll find one
for a man named Asher Morgan," he replied, his voice suddenly
taking on a firm tone. "What you are to do is retrieve the body,
and bring me back to life."
Layken recoiled, visibly stunned by his suddenly demanded
request.
"I... Pardon?" she asked.
"Don't play dumb!" His voice rose sharply, the sudden boom
prompting the walls of her dream bedroom to shake. Layken found
herself shrinking into the bed. The power he had over her in her
dreams was dangerous - if she didn't play her cards right, he
could easily hurt her without her having any chance at stopping
him.
"I've been watching you," he said, lowering his voice to a
much more sinister tone. "I've been with you your entire life,
Layken. I know what your kind has the potential to do."
Asher spat out the word "kind" as he would a bad meal. A
human who had suddenly been plunged into the world of the
supernatural in death, a human who had become a ghost. It was
far too easy for Layken to detect his resentment.
"I don't even know how," she replied, her voice verging on
desperate, desperate for him to understand and to leave her
alone.
Asher just chuckled, only replying with one word: "Learn."
"And if I don't?" she asked, managing to keep the tremble
from her voice.
The shadowy figure didn't say anything at first, the silence
hanging over the two of them before he finally replied.
"There will be consequences. There are always consequences."
---
The consequences were revealed to her only days later, when
her adoptive mother fell into a sleep that she would not wake up
from any time soon.
With her dad by her mom's side in the hospital every hour of
every day, Layken was left alone with the family's spellbooks.
When she wasn't in the hospital, the young witch was holed up in
the dusty attic, her eyes skimming spell after spell in book
after book.
Luckily, Layken had another set of eyes to help her look.
Tobin spent nearly as much time in the attic as she did after
his failed healing attempts on her mother. Since he was a much
faster reader than she was, his assistance made the process go
by much more quickly.
The two found their answer only a day after they started
reading.
"Human sacrifice?" Tobin repeated incredulously as he read,
his eyes wide behind his glasses. "In order to bring this
psychopath, who has been mentally torturing you for years by the
way, back to life, you'll need to... kill another person?"
Layken's skin was pale as porcelain, and she looked to be
just as fragile. She had read and re-read the passage what felt
like hundreds of times, so many times that she knew the
accompanied spell by heart.
Life could not be given without another being taken away. The
balance could not be disturbed. If she wanted to bring Asher
back, she'd have to take the life of someone else.
If she didn't bring Asher back, he'd never release his hold
on one of the only family members she had left.
Layken wanted to scream.
"What am I supposed to do?" she whispered, unable to lift her
eyes from the page and look at Tobin. She knew what she'd see in
his face, knew he'd look just as lost and hopeless as she felt.
Tobin's voice instead broke through her fog without any
hesitation.
"You fight him off," he said, his words prompting Layken to
slowly lift her head. She looked at him expectantly, and he
continued. "If you have the power to bring him back, maybe you
have the power to push him away, to... maybe force him to move
on."
"And what about my mom?" she asked, biting her lip. "How will
she wake up if Asher's gone?"
Tobin ran a hand through his disheveled hair, a nervous tick.
"I don't know if she will," he admitted softly. "But I have a
theory that, maybe, if he's gone, his hold on her will be gone
along with him."
Layken let out a shaky breath. While it was risky, at that
point in time, it seemed like the only plan they had left.
Asher's presence wasn't with them in the attic - Layken assumed
he was hovering somewhere near her mom - so there was no way he
would know what she had in store for him.
That is, if she actually did have anything in store for him.
"Is there even a spell for that?" she groaned.
"Not... exactly," Tobin responded, chewing on his lip
thoughtfully. "But if you have the power to raise the dead,
shouldn't you have the power to drive them away?"
Layken shrugged her shoulders slightly, though her friend's
question prompted a realization in her. She could keep spirits
at bay when she was awake - maybe she just needed to push a
little farther to drive them to a point where they could no
longer touch her.
It would take a lot of magic, magic the young witch wasn't sure
she had within her. Still, as her eyes drifted to the browning
pages of the spell book, she knew she had no choice but to try.
----
She found the grave, but she would not be digging up any
bodies.
Of course, Asher was not aware of the last fact as he
materialized beside Layken. The moon, while it illuminated the
cemetery in an eerie light, brought nothing to his shadowed
face. Even his eyes were undetectable.
"You've finally seen me side of things, then," Asher said
smugly, Layken bristling on the inside at his tone. He would be
in for a surprise.
"Actually," she replied instantly. "I don't think that I
have."
The air became suffocating with tension, all of it stemming
from the shadowy figure beside her. Layken didn't even give
Asher a chance to respond before she started murmuring the
spell, her voice starting out gentle but gaining strength as
more and more words flowed from her lips.
Slowly, Asher's form started to fade beside her.
"What are you doing?!" he demanded, his voice a strangled
mixture of panic and rage. For the first time, Layken didn't
flinch away. She wasn't asleep. He couldn't hurt her here.
"Stop!" Asher's voice broke through the night air like
thunder. Layken could feel the world beginning to spin around
her, tiny drops of blood beginning to spill from her nose. Still
she remained relentless, chanting the words of the spell that
would banish Asher out of her world, out of her head.
Headstones cracked as the wind picked up around them, the
sound of its howls synchronizing with Layken's chanting. Asher's
form was nothing but a faded blemish against the scenery, though
everything was starting to blur into one for Layken.
"Your mother will never wake up!" She could barely hear him
over the wind, nor did she have the power to stop. The words
were pouring out of her like a waterfall, spilling into the air.
She didn't know when Asher disappeared, nor did she notice
his presence leave her side. She didn't know when she fell into
the cold snow. She only knew that, as she slowly lost
consciousness, the only sound that reached her ears was the
wails of the wind and the spirits.
There would be consequences for what she did. There were
always consequences.
---
For the first time that she could remember, Layken woke up in
her bed without being petrified by a nightmare.
The sweet aroma of fresh tea was the first thing that greeted
her, followed by the sight of an exhausted Tobin sitting at her
bedside. As soon as she stirred he shot up in his seat,
murmuring a few words to soothe any pain she may be feeling. All
at once, Layken felt her muscles begin to relax.
As the memories of the night before slowly started to replay
in her mind, Layken only had one question:
"Is she okay?"
She felt small once more as she asked this, dreading Tobin's
response. For all she knew, she'd just vanquishd her mom's only
chance at waking up.
Tobin gave her a gentle smile, nodding in response to her
question. Layken let out a breath she hadn't even realized she'd
been holding, finally allowing herself to smile back at him.
"She woke up last night," he said softly. "The doctors are
going to send her home today."
Only then did Layken allow herself to believe everything was
okay. Her mom was awake, and her tormentor was gone. She'd done
it. For the first time in her life, everything felt okay.
"Thank you," she said, looking up at Tobin. "For all of your
help."
Tobin shrugged sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck as a
red flush began to show across his cheeks.
"It was nothing," he replied, clearing his throat. "Do uh, do
you need anything?"
She almost didn't ask for anything, but the tickle in the
back of her throat made her decide otherwise.
"Maybe some water?" she asked.
Tobin nodded and quickly left to fulfill her request, Layken
letting out a content sigh as she snuggled under the blankets.
She closed her eyes, only to have them fly open as she went into
a fit of coughs, covering her mouth with the sheet.
When she pulled the sheet away from her lips, she felt her
heart jump at the sight of crimson on white. She'd been coughing
up blood.
That was when she remembered the spirits' wails. The
consequences. She'd banished another life... She'd abused her
power.
Layken could remember how drained she'd felt after completing
the spell, and how... empty she was feeling at that moment. It
wasn't only that she couldn't feel Asher. She couldn't feel
anyone, any presences nearby that she would normally be able to
sense.
Dread slowly crept through her body when she realized,
finally, what those consequences were.
Her magic was gone.
#Post#: 377--------------------------------------------------
Re: Casey's second fantasy draft
By: ruther50 Date: February 19, 2014, 8:16 pm
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-
see in my mind when reading. Especially referring to her looking
like she had run a marathon
-
-
were three fates for Layken, but she got stuck with the worst
“gift”
-
forewarning. I would try and give some back-story to all their
friendships. Are they witches as well? And what are their gifts?
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advice, but maybe Mia isn’t necessary within the story since
she’s only in one part
-
end all happy, but you throw in a twist that says otherwise.
-
-
element within it, Asher. I like that she doesn’t just listen to
his commands and finds her own way to get rid of him forever.
-
story develop and flow. My interest was kept throughout the
whole story.
-Kiersten Rutherford
#Post#: 420--------------------------------------------------
Re: Casey's second fantasy draft
By: mcevill7 Date: February 25, 2014, 2:34 pm
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I like how your story began, it gave mystery and left me wanting
to know more. I also liked how she you explained the back story
of her "gift".
I also think Mia was not super relevant to the story.
I liked how she got rid of Asher, and that magic has
consequence.
It was interesting that she lost all of her power. Was this
really a consequence though? It seemed throughout the story that
she did not like her "gift" to begin with. Would her life be
better without it? or was it better with it? Maybe just address
this in the end.
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