darkSpyro

I'd love for anyone to have a read. I'll try to remember to post a chapter each day... but it's getting published soon, so any comments would be amazing!

The Bloodlines Saga:
I - Whitecraft
II - The Lost Race
III - The Fifth Guardian
IV - The Illusion of Victory
V - The Truth of Defeat
VI - The Blood of Two Men

Every child's dream is to have the dragons, the elves, the magical world they imagine come true. It's 2007, and when Matt, Simon, Valora and Sophie become the first humans to wield magic in over a hundred years, events are put in motion that will change the world forever. What if the world of the Five Cities they imagined was real? Embarking on a journey with an elf that acts like Elvis Presley, an eight year old by the name of Perry Percy Pon Brundlewick the Third and a dwarf so fat he can barely walk, they will venture to the world of Atlantis.

Only they can unite the human and Alarian world, and as they try to, they will be chased by deadly shape shifters, faced with a conspiracy against the last guardians, a deadly bomber and all the while...

Something is Rising In the Dark.
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Balls would often get kicked out of play and into places where the one who drew the short straw would have to fetch it. This one unlucky time a small girl was chosen to lead her expedition into the dark alleyway just behind the classroom buildings. Being brave in the face of danger, or fear, or desperation was one thing, but actually facing the danger was another. The six year old made her way to back of the building, peering around the corner to see the small red ball nested in the corner of yellowed leaves, broken twigs, and most importantly – shadows. There was always going to be more than twigs and leaves in the shadows to a small girl.
Cold’s crystal fingers owed no touch to the small girl’s skin. There was no plight of warmth, or a will to shiver in the dark of the near lightless alleyway. The few veins of light that strained themselves on the walls flickered at her movement. The silence wasn’t without its chill, and to be honest the only thing keeping her going was the call of her friends on the field to play again, but they were distant voices here. Of course, anything could be scary to a small child.
The small girl shuffled along the cracked concrete. Once in the sheltered alleyway, her piggy tails stopped flailing. The ball was in truth only a few metres away, but whilst in a terrifying shadowy corner it may have well been ten kilometres.
She neared the small red ball, a great contrast with the greys and browns of the graffiti covering the back walls to the school buildings. In the end she got over it, rushing forward to pick up the small red sphere. Once she got there she would realise it wasn’t that scary, just like every other time she went to fetch the ball.
Standing up and brushing the dirt off the sides of the ball, a cool breeze managed to whistle through the alleyway, causing the girl run. But the dark that seemed to swallow up the light of the playing field at the end made her trip, the ball rolling just out of her reach. She could feel a jaw wrenching shock of pain in her rib, but got up anyway.
It was then she remembered who was there, who was always there; although whether it was a person or not was up for debate. Just to the side of her vision, in the shadowy edge of the alleyway she could see it, and feel it. It was feeling of nightmares, where a child knew they could run from the creature, but never run from the fear of it.
“Pick up the ball,” it said. That’s what it always said. The Man with the Red Gauntlets. “A game… I always enjoyed a game…”
The girl didn’t respond. She never did, and nor did she want to. In reality, it wasn’t really a conscious decision not to speak, but more a cage of fear she was be trapped in to the point that she couldn’t even move. This was the moment the alleyway grew even darker, and the exit so distant.
The hidden being turned slowly, its features all shrouded within a shadow. Its hands were clad in two red gauntlets of masterful workmanship. A helix of metal strands wrapped themselves around its arms to the shoulders where they curled into a sharp flick upwards. It moved as if a ghost amongst a crowd, hovering without any dip in height.
“Give me the ball. We could play together,” it said in its rasping voice. It was cold and indefinite as either masculine or feminine. As she listened it became soft and gentle in a way, as if it was honey laced with poison. The girl stayed silent, eyes focused on the pinpoint of light in the distance with its rays only scratching the walls around her.
“I’m surprised after all this time we aren’t on a first name basis,” he repeated. She had heard it before. She had heard it every single time. “You could call me one of the Big Kids.”
In truth, she couldn’t really see it. The only distinguishing features from the black walls were its red lined gauntlets. She had only managed to get snippets, tiny memories, and it never came close enough to give her a decent look, and that simply enforced the fear rising deep inside her.
“I’ve found something for you,” the person said and a small toy dog torn at the ear appeared at her feet. Except it wasn’t just any toy dog, it was her toy dog. “I hope I’m not barking up the wrong tree here…” the voice chuckled. The laugh wasn’t well meant or good hearted, it was unmistakably sadistic.
“Mr. Brown…” the small girl said, finding little comfort in her toy. It was that moment that it turned to ash, literally. With the fluffy dog clutched in her hands, it began to deteriorate and fall apart, the ear being the first to go. Flames leapt to life between her fingers, setting the dog alight with it and forcing her to drop it once again and her to be without the one thing she thought could bring her comfort.
“Interesting…” whispered the being as if it hadn’t expected it. “The world will burn, young girl. With the coming of those who wish to save it, it will burn. As for me? You will see me in more than dreams, child.”
* * *
“AHHHHHHHHHHH!” The girl awoke in her bed crying and screaming as well as breathing heavy and with clenched hands.
“It’s okay… It’s okay…” her father rushed into the room to comfort her. “It’s alright… it was just a dream.”
“It was a nightmare!” she cried as she threw herself into her daddy’s arms, hiding away from the world.
“Was it the nightmare?” he asked.
“Yes,” the six year old sobbed.
“What can you remember...? It keeps happening.” Her father was worried, after so many repeats of her sleepless nights. It wasn’t good for such a young child.
She looked up to him with woeful eyes, tears on the brink of slipping down her rosy cheeks. “The alleyway… Mr. Brown…” Pointing at the small brown dog discarded on the ground, her brother went to fetch it.
“Mr. Brown is back now,” he said as he pressed it into her hands. The same ear was torn, the same dark fur she had cuddled with all her childhood. “Do you remember anything else?”
The young one struggled to recall details, but she at least knew there was something else – something incredibly important. The alleyway… the dog… the darkness… the playing field. Her mind went through the motions, avoiding the most key detail of them all. Whether it was through fear, or her mind simply wanted to forget any trace of the wraith she couldn’t recall it.
“No… nothing important,” she said. “It was just really, really dark.”
“I know it was sweetie,” he said and reached over the flick a nightlight on. “Go back to sleep. Call me if you need me.”

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So what did you think??? The next chapter to follow would be 'The Provocation of the Imagination'