New York, New York
I have a secret, a secret nobody can know about. If humans found out what I was, it could end life as we know it.
My name is Talos Matador and I am a werewolf. One of the most hated werewolves of all time. I am an orphan, an orphan that no one wanted. The first thing that everybody has always asked me is my name. I named myself after the RIM-8 Talos missile and the MGM-1 Matador. Both were canceled between 1954 and 1963.
I was born in Central Park of New York sixteen years ago. My mother died in childbirth and when I was 7 my dad had a stroke and died. It was September 7, 2007.
9 years ago.
Why am I the most hated werewolf of all time? I went against my nature; the first time I morphed I killed 17 people. I still remember that night like it was only yesterday.
The wind whistled through my black fur as I ran through the streets of my hometown. I could hear the screams and shrieks like bullets hitting glass. Feel the rough gravel beneath my clawed paws. I had learned from my father that I was a werewolf. He had told me things anybody would laugh at. My father had never told me it would feel like this though.
Something flashed beside me and I growled. I stopped and looked to see a young woman, not more than nineteen, standing stock still in the middle of the sidewalk. Her scarlet hair blowing in the wind. Her eyes wide with fear. I opened my muzzle and let her see my fangs. See what would kill her first. Fear or me. She shrieked like the helpless human she was and turned to run away. Her shoes hit the pavement hard and there were smacking sounds. I gave her a head start before I ran and lunged at her, knocking her to the ground. Blood spilled from where my claws gouged her skin. She tried useless attempts to get away but I dug my claws deeper into her shoulders. More blood was shed. She turned her head to look into my eyes. I saw my golden eyes reflected through hers. I opened my jaws and enclosed her neck around them. Her cry of agony was cut off before it even reached her lips. I saw her eyes dim and lose their light. I could feel her heart accelerate and then abruptly stop. My eyes were a red haze and I cut see blood dripping off my fangs onto the concrete, creating a puddle around her head. I snarled and gutted her, knowing that once every once of blood was free of her body I would only be happy. I got back on two furry legs and looked around for witnesses. There were 16 people around me. I howled before I killed them all too. Making the sidewalk a river of blood, guts, and lifeless bodies.
I don’t like to think about that night a lot. To many bad memories that led to sleepless nights. Well, back to the story you would call life, I would call eating, sleeping, and having dumps. Nah, not really. My life is pretty amazing really, if you would only listen.
Okay, back to the name thing. My real name could not have been worse than it already is. Ugh, well here it goes. Don’t laugh. My real name is Kristen Marin Anda Thumb. Oh yeah all you people out there who are cracking up and spraying milk out of their nose, how would you like it if your mom and dad thought you were a girl when they saw you. I have two possible reasons they thought I was a girl. (1. They were blind. (2. They were on crack. And the last name, my God (pardon my language) who has a name like Thumb? People On Crack!
Next, we will talk about what I do to get cash to stay alive. Yes those green paper things that are all wrinkly and smells like old people. Those things save my life.
Well, I make bombs. I know all you guys out there are saying, “yeah right a kid making bombs.” No, you’re all wrong, I make bombs for anybody who wants them. (I started when I was eight, that’s when I found a book called ‘Nuclear missiles and other deadly weapons: The complete handbook’ lying in an alley. Who would throw that out?) The fins and all. Mostly mobsters buy the bombs but other people sometimes do to. Why do you think I named myself what I did? I saw it on a cereal box? Nope. (I named myself after those two deadly weapons because they (a. were made during the years my mom and dad were born and (b. they just sound really cool) I make all kinds of bombs, shells, missiles, warheads, grenades, depth charges, etc. So if you ever need something that goes BOOM come find me. We’ll talk money.
Everything else you’ll learn about later.
Something snapped in the trees above my head. A few golden leaves fell off and were caught mid-drop in the autumn breeze. Ah, me being poetic, it scares the shite out of me sometimes. I looked up to see Woody, a street urchin (just like me) in the branches above me. He dropped to the ground beside me and sat down. Woody had dark brown hair that would give any salon owner a heart attack. It made his tanned skin stick out a little somehow. His blue eyes never seemed to stop flicking back and forth between things. He was really tall, like, six-foot-ten or something. There always seemed to be something stuck in his short beard. For the whole thirty-four years of his life he lived in New York. No one knows his real name and he probably doesn’t know himself.
He is practically the opposite of me. Me with my pitch black hair that comes down to my chin. Me with my dark eyes that stayed focused all the time. My pale skin. I am pretty tall for my age, about six-foot-five. My legs are like three and a half feet. Makes it great for running. But no beard, nothing, nada.
“Yo, wat’s hap’nin?” I asked him. Everybody knew Woody; you weren’t a New Yorker if you didn’t. He was like graffiti on a wall. He stayed in New York no matter what and everybody knew he was there.
“Just collecting some moolah around town.” He answered.
“From who?” I looked around Central Park, indicating that there were like three people there. Two of them were female joggers talking to each other. Both wearing tight tank tops and Bermuda shorts. One was dark haired and skinned while the other had electric blue spiky hair. The other had graying hair and was sitting on a bench facing the lake, but that’s not it, he was also a reeeeeeally fat guy, at least four hundred pounds, eating a twinkie, a doughnut, and somehow a drinking mocha all at the same time. Damn. I barely refrained from yelling at him to try Jenny Craig’s. He watched the joggers with slight interest, which should just be illegal for someone that fat. Okay, I’ll be a little nicer. It should be illegal for someone that obese. See, I can be nice when I want to.
“Some guys in the Manhattan Valley.” He smiled and unconsciously ran his hands through his hair. Oh, right, forgot to mention, Woody is gay. Don’t worry about me though, I told him the first time I met him that if he touches me I’ll tie his family jewels in a knot. He hasn’t touched me since. I guess I just have ways with people. Or it could be that I’m a werewolf. Life is too gently caressing complicated for me nowadays. “Gave me twenty dollars. Didn’t even go anywhere, just stayed in the valley. There were five, I think the others got jealous while I---.”
I abruptly put my hand up and half yelled, “Stop, just stop. That’s way to much info, bud.” Having Woody around was a lot of fun (oh, shite, that didn’t sound right, don’t take it that way) but it just petrified the hell out of me when he starts talking about his personal life.
“Sorry.” He fell silent and started counting bills.
I got to my feet and stretched. I looked at the horizon. The sun’s first rays were barely visible in the dense fog. I walked over to the fat guy who I just noticed was wearing a suit. He had a badge that said ‘DETECTIVE.’ Now I just had to pause and look at that for a second because this guy could not be enforcing the cities laws and protecting it. So I just had to do something about it.
I was close enough now to make out a few details about Fatty the detective. First he had about three strands of hair. It reminded me vaguely of Homer from the Simpsons. He also filled up the whole bench. No surprise there. There were spills and jelly stains all over his shirt and face. He had a medium length beard that had grey streaks. The last thing I noticed was on his shirt he had a name plate that read Captain Ray.
“Hey, Ray,” I called as I got closer.
His eyes flashed a deadly grey and something in the bottom of my stomach twitched. His head jerked my way and he spat, “what do you want.”
That just made my mouth start acting on its own. “Angry much?” I glowered. “What’s gotten you all cranky? Other than the fact that you’re old, fat, bald, and probably never been hit on by anyone other than your sister”
Fatty Ray the detective bared his teeth (which by the way were all straight, guess that’s what happens when you go to the dentist every six months). “You really shouldn’t insult cops, kid. Gives you a bad name.”
“Actually, I think I have a very good name. In fact, people have been known to impersonate me before. Now, back to the matter at hand. Why are you angry?” I’d been told somewhere that talking formerly to authority could score you big points.
“No one likes a kiss-up, son. Now what is your name?” He smiled all dainty-like.
That is the exact reason why I hate authority, they never answer an exact question.
“You want to know my name?” I jabbed a finger at my chest. “I am the incredible Talos Matador! Bow before your king!” I spread my arms around and pretended to say a few thanks. I should really get a job as an actor someday. “Now tell me the gently caress why you’re so gently caressing angry!”
Last edited by Bluemoon (2009-06-23 12:20:38)
nce i want to see more of this
Since before I had so many links i deleted them and just added them to this one so there wont be that much.
This is the last of chapter 1. Enjoy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Chapter 2 will come soon.
Fatty Ray took out a pair of glasses and put them on. Then he took out a small green notebook and pen and began writing things down. “I was put on vacation,” he answered while writing. He stopped after a few minutes and looked at me.
“How old are you?” He asked me.
“Sixteen.” I answered truthfully.
“Where do you live?”
“In a tree in the park but sometimes in abandoned warehouses.”
“Do you have a job.” Okay, I have to say something. I am a homeless guy and he’s asking me if I have a job! What has happened to America’s intelligence? Have the fries finally gotten to us?! So, of course, I answered truthfully.
“What is it.” He looked at me as if I were eating his double deluxe extra cheese cheeseburger with everything on it.
“Bringing joy and laughter to the world.” I smiled and drew a big circle in front of me to indicate the world.
I knew I was getting on his last nerve but, really, I just have a gift for messing with people. One of the great talents of Talos Matador.
“I don’t know if you know, but, there are rumors that a certain Talos Matador,” He said my name with a degree of disgust, “has been selling illegal bombs to innocent citizens.”
“Why would the citizens be innocent if their buying bombs?” I said the last word slowly so he could understand it better. “Oh, and by the way, you’ve got the wrong guy. There must be another Talos Matador because I’m not the guy making bombs.”
I slowly took a step back while he got up. Or at least tried. He got stuck halfway and had to push of the bench’s arms. That didn’t help either. His eyes bulged with pain and I heard something go smack. He looked at me and squealed in a high pitched voice to help.
So I did what any other sensible person would do. I ran like hell.
I didn’t stop until I was covered by a few trees. I looked around for anybody who could be watching and saw no one. I paused for a few seconds and stripped out of my clothes. Then I morphed.
I heard it when my joints popped. My arms grew longer and black hair appeared. So did my legs until I was about eight feet tall. Muscle grew broader. My hands and feet grew sharp, black claws. My nose and mouth changed into a lengthy muzzle covered in black hair. My teeth extended and sharpened to razer-blade points. My ears became pointed and I could suddenly hear everything a mile away. A thick, swift tail appeared at the bottom of my spine. I looked through a thin red haze. I could smell the sewers below. I could feel the dampness in the air better now. At the end of my transformation I was about as exited as anyone would be if they learned there was actually world peace.
I scampered toward a less vulnerable spot. I ended up in a forest-like place. I had just reached the edge when I saw a set of animal footprints leading into it. I immediately recognized them as werewolf prints. I followed them into the forest while my head screamed to me that this was the stupidest thing I could be doing. My heart was hammering in my chest so hard my ribs hurt. As the footprints led me deeper into the forest a smell stronger than anything I’ve ever smelled-and by far the most beautiful-reached my nose. The smell was so intoxicating I felt dazed enough to forget how to move my legs for a couple of moments and I bumped into a few trees. I vaguely realized the smell of a female close by.
By the time my mind cleared I had left the trail of prints. I fought through the trees and underbrush to find it again and soon did.
I found myself in a clearing after a while where I guessed was the heart of the forest. The ground was pure green, which wasn’t right in the fall.
But that wasn’t what was making me so awe-struck. It was the woman standing in the center of the open space. She looked….Beautiful, simply beautiful. She was tall and skinny, but with muscle. Her skin had a light tan. Her hair was a little longer than shoulder length and it looked silky. It was the color of milk chocolate with a few light blond streaks in it. Her eyes were green with a thin yellow outline around the pupil. She had high and sharp cheekbones that fit with her lean face. She looked around my age and was wearing a tight sleeveless white shirt with a dotted black and white tie. She wore green camouflage cargo pants and black sneakers. She had a metal chain wrapped around her waist for a belt. I noticed a scar that ran from her elbow to her wrist on her left arm. It was healed but it looked like it was deep before. I noticed instantly that she was a werewolf.
She opened her mouth to talk. “I—“
But was cut short by a deadly frightening scream that seemed to shake the air around us. It probably would have been unheard by any human this deep in the woods but not by a werewolf.
Both I and the girl’s heads snapped up in the direction of the scream. South. Before I could register what I was doing, I was running toward the scream.
I looked behind me to see the girl running after me already in her wolf form. Her fur was the color of her hair, as was every werewolves.
We reached the edge of the forest and looked out into the park. Horrified at what we saw.
At least thirty werewolves surrounded Central Park. All with their fangs dripping blood. All with their eyes pure gold. They were all bloodthirsty. They all charged into the park.
That was the last thing I saw because quicker than even my werewolf senses could register a long steel rod came out of nowhere and hit me upside the head. I heard another scream then….Nothing.
The last thing I heard was a calm male voice saying, “good morning Mister Matador.”
Blackness filled my senses and I fell unconscious.
I've been working on this all day, so I hope it's good.
Hempstead, New York
I woke up groggy and with no idea where the hell I was. I opened my eyes only to see I was in a steel cage. I sat up and looked around. Somehow my clothes were back on. That was good. The girl sat on the other side of the cage. She watched me with steady eyes as I got up and walked over to her. I took note of my surroundings as I did. No apparent weak spots in the cage. It looked like we were in some kind of cellar. White walls around us, door on the east side.
I stopped beside the girl and sat down.
“What’s your name?” I asked casually, like we weren't in a steel cage. Trying not to show her how scared I was. ‘Cause I’m just funny that way.
“Karla. Yours?” She answered. She sounded like she joked a lot and didn’t really care much about things.
She smiled and said, “nice to meet ya.” She held out her hand.
I took it, “yeah you to.”
I inclined my head around us. “Any idea where we are?”
“Pretty sure a cage in a cellar. Unless I’m just blind, which would just ruin my whole day.” We both laughed.
I shrugged, “could be worse.”
She raised an eyebrow and I got a little angry at that ‘cause I’ve never been able to do that and I’ve always wanted to.
“We could be strapped to chairs with a gun in our face awaiting death while they individually remove our internal organs.”
She blinked. “Yo, that is just plain sick.”
“It’s true though. Happened to me before.”
She looked at me weirdly. “Uh, you’ve had your internal organs removed before?!”
I shook my head and looked down at her. “No way, I’ve just been tied to a chair with a gun in my face.” I thought about it for a second. “Happened during a game of hide-and-seek.”
She snickered and I hit her arm lightly. “Guess you aren’t the best person at hide-and-seek then.” She tried not to smile.
“You can’t be talking.” I threw back at her, thinking about her footprints and smell in the forest.
“Yeah, but I don’t get tied to chairs during a round of the game.”
“Nag, nag, nag.” I let the subject drop.
She folded her arms behind her head and rested it against the cage. “Well, now this just sucks. Bet the Tooth Fairy never gets stuck in cages like this.”
“Yeah, the Tooth Fairy only has to pick up dirty rotten teeth from under kids pillows.”
We both laughed again.
The door suddenly shuddered and was almost ripped of its hinges by whoever was coming through.
A tall man came lumbering in the cellar and shouting behind him words that little kids shouldn’t hear. He was muscled, and I mean muscled. He could probably break a bear in half with his bare hands, and then maybe eat it. He had short blond hair and brown eyes. He wore a nice work suit. Attached to a belt around his waist held a sheathed sword. On the other side of his waist was a .38 Llama Model VIII automatic pistol. Where the hell did he get that from?
“Nice to see you two awake.” H glowered. I noticed that his voice was the same as the mans yesterday.
“Nice to see you two awake.” I mocked just for pure enjoyment.
The big man was just about to reply to that when Karla snidely interrupted. “Dude, could you be any more louder! I think you just woke up my dead grandpa.”
The guy laughed, a laugh that rolled around him. “You think I will let two sixteen year olds mess with me?” The guy abruptly stopped his chuckling and glared at us. “Now, Mister Matador and Miss Phay, if you would follow me…” He took out a key ring that held a single rusty key. He inserted it into a lock on the door of the cell.
He opened the door and held it open for us to go out. I let Karla go out first so I could watch her back.
“There are twenty wolves outside waiting to pull the trigger on you so don’t even think about escaping.” He walked up beside me and breathed hot air onto my face when he talked. “Got it Matador.” It wasn’t a question as much as a fact.
Karla growled so deep and menacing it made both me and Biggie shudder. I looked at her and saw her face was a mixture of disgust, hate, and fury. One of her hands were on her chain belt.
I sauntered over to her and put a hand on her shoulder to calm her. She removed her hand from her belt but didn’t take her eyes off Biggie.
“What’s your name anyway. It doesn’t feel right to keep calling you Biggie in my head.”
Karla laughed while Biggie’s face turned crimson.
“My name,” he spat, “is none of your business.”
“Sure thing Biggie.” I smiled as I took Karla’s hand and followed Biggie out the door.
Biggie led us out of the cellar and up a few flights of stairs to a spacious room that looked like a living room. There were couches and chairs around the room. Tables and stools in random places. Computers were set against one wall and a huge TV was against the other. We passed other rooms like that on our little walk. Finally we ended at a wooden door with designs of roses carved into it.
Biggie opened the door and pushed us in. The room inside was small with white walls like the ones in the cellar. Chairs lined the walls. There was a desk in the back of the room with a big leather chair. Sitting in the seat was a woman with long, thick reddish-brown hair. Her eyes were green and a fierce look was on her face. She was obviously the person in the driver’s seat.
Beside her stood who I supposed was her second in command. He was tall, muscled, and looked no older than 25. He had short curly black hair and brown eyes. He was dressed casual-a white tee with designs of skulls on them and blue jeans with brown steel-toed boots. Around his neck was a necklace that held a shark’s tooth. What was most intriguing and scary about him was his left eye. It looked…ravaged, like it had been mauled. There were scars all around it and whole eye was black, like the pupil had grown ten times its size. It was just plain…freaky.
I felt Karla tense beside me and I gripped her hand tighter. I looked around the room and picked out two people who stood out to me.
One was a woman with the same hair as Karla and the same facial structure. She had blue eyes and was very lean. Too lean to be healthy.
The second was a man who had the same eyes and body structure as Karla. He had short black hair and seemed to be over six-foot-ten. He was the only human in the room.
They were both only staring at Karla.
The head woman started talking then. “Good morning, Mister Matador and Miss Phay. It’s nice to finally see you, we’ve heard many stories.” She had a voice that could scare you into freezing. That’s exactly what it did too. Karla and I couldn’t even breathe correctly.
“You will call me Thorn,” the head began talking again, “and this is Splinter, my second in command.” She indicated the man beside her.
Splinter smiled creepily and said in a voice that hit my ears like bullets and made my head hurt, “good morning.”
Thorn began again. “These are my commanding officers, Mister Carson, Miss Thon, Mister Monroe,” they each stood up when she called their names, “Mister Simmon, and Miss Simmon.” The man and woman stood up.
“What a nice welcome party.” I muttered.
Biggie shut the door and the meeting began.
This is chapter 3. It really heats up the story.
Meet & Greet
Hempstead, New York
This day could not get worse. Like my head wasn’t already hurting enough.
I pulled Karla closer to me and spoke up. “What the hell do you want?” I was surprised by how hoarse my voice was.
“There’s no need to be rude, Mister Matador.” The one called Thon answered. She seemed Chinese by her looks and accent.
Okay, truth be told, I didn’t like being called ‘Mister.’ It just made my stomach do back-flips.
“No Miss or Mister here, got it. Just call us by our first names.”
Thorn smiled like a devil and talked again, stunning me into silence. “Yes, whatever you like, Kristen.”
Everybody’s eyes turned on me but all I could do was stare at Thorn. How did she know my real name? I hadn’t told anybody my real name since I could actually say it. My dad didn’t have any friends or people that came over to see us. So how would she know my name? I hated to admit it but I was too scared to speak.
Luckily, Karla was at my side. “You call him by what he wants but I doubt he wants to be called that.” Her voice was hard and cold. After a moment she added, without looking at me, “even if it’s his real name.”
Karla took a step forward and growled, “it would be a complete disaster if you head and neck were suddenly separated.” She leaned forward a little and whispered, “wouldn’t it?”
Splinter was immediately at Karla’s side, holding her arms behind her back. He growled something in a foreign language low in her ear and produced a small tranquilizer-a real tranquilizer-from his pocket and held it up to her stomach. Karla struggled to get free but failed.
I ran forward and tried to yank her out of his hold. He pulled the trigger before I could get a foot within reach. Her eyes closed and she went limp. I realized I had been shrieking her name the whole time.
Splinter let her go and she fell into my arms. I took the dart out of her stomach and picked her up in my arms. I held her close to me and tried to shake her awake, but tranquilizers do their job perfectly. I never took my eyes off of Karla.
The Simmon’s screamed and ran to me and their daughter. Daughter. Even as I thought it the word rang bells in my head. I still didn’t hesitate to back away from them and hold her even tighter.
They looked at me with white fury burning in their eyes. The woman tried to grab Karla out of my hands but I dodged it by turning-
-And getting clawed in the stomach. I gasped and sank down to the ground coughing up blood. I looked at my torso and saw blood on the left side. The torn skin showed perfectly and even by what I could see, the gouge had to be at least an inch deep.
“Stop!” Thorn screamed. She stood up from her desk and I saw she was a thin woman. She motioned to Splinter and he pulled the Simmon’s away from me. In the end I was lying on the ground all bloody and gasping for air. Curled in a tight ball and clutching to Karla’s unconscious body.
Again everybody was staring at me like I was some circus freak. Splinter actually came over and stomped on my leg with his heavy boots. Probably just to entertain that sick mind of his. A loud cracking blended with my cry of agony.
Thorn yelled Splinter’s name and he backed away from me.
“Nobody touch him.” She commanded. “We can’t let something like that happen again so I’ll just get to the point.” She sat down again. “Talos, I know you’re not going to believe me but…” She hesitated and then said, “you’re my nephew.”
I froze, the blood gushing out of my body probably froze, the air even seemed to freeze.
I was still for a couple of minutes before I broke out in hysteric laughter. It was just so funny. “You expect me to believe you’re my aunt! God, lady you must have some mental issues, because you can not be my related to me!” I wailed between bursts of laughter.
Thorn rubbed her temples while I heard Splinter mutter something that sounded like I needed therapy. The Simmon’s were sitting back down and were still staring at their daughter.
“And you guys.” I turned my gaze on the Simmon’s as I stood up on shaky legs. “Why are you here and not with your daughter? Come on, she’s probably been wondering where you have been for the past….how long have you been gone?”
“A couple weeks.” The man answered. His voice was deep but soft.
“We didn’t chose this,” The woman stated. Her voice was much like Karla’s but firmer. “We just want our—“ Thorn cut her off.
“Talos, really, you need to believe what I’m saying. You’re my nephew.”
I thought about it for a minute. “Okay, say I believed you. Why would you tell me now? Why didn’t you ever come see me when my father died? Why not before? How come he never mentioned he had a sister?!”
Thorn sighed and said sadly, “probably because he never had a sister. I’m on your mother’s side.” She paused to let it sink in.
My thoughts were scrambled by then so I needed time to get them together anyway. Questions after questions popped up in my head but I chose the one that seemed the most necessary to ask.
“Why have you never showed yourself before? Why now?”
She took a deep breath and bowed her head. “I didn’t have a purpose to before.”
“You didn’t have a purpose before!” I screeched. My face heated up with anger and my hands clenched into fists. I took an involuntary step forward and kicked the desk. “You didn’t have a purpose to see me when my mom died? My dad? Your own family!” I kicked the desk again, creating dents in it.
Thorn looked around the room and asked, “may we please have a little privacy?”
Biggie opened the door and everyone cleared out. Mr. Simmon picked his daughter up off the floor and threw her over his shoulder. I barely refrained from knocking his head off. He headed out after everyone with his wife at his side.
Splinter was the last to leave. He traded a glance with Thorn and Thorn nodded, making a shooing motion with her hand. He left with a look at me that clearly stated, you do anything funny and your friend dies. Very scary.
As soon as everyone cleared out Thorn started talking again. “That’s just it, Talos. Your father never died. Please just listen to the story. You’ll understand more.”
I paused and after a long time motioned for her to begin the story.
The story that could possibly change my life.
I'll spread the message across...bluemoon is my sister. She said she quit writing it because the plot was running thin and writer's block flying high. But...with this little compliment you gave, she might come back.
i really liked it and im interested in these kinds of werewolf stories..its my favorite so far.and id really like to read more:)
Well I spread the message but she didn't say much. I think she'll still write more though. Just wait a few more days.
Sorry to bust your bubble, but she told me she's not going to write anymore. I kept telling her she has a lot of fans but she quite frankly doesn't like them. Sorry for the bad news.
man can this day get any worse?
Maybe you should encourage her by saying something tht could add a drmatic(ker) twist?
Look I've tried telling her helpful hints but she isn't listening. She DOES NOT WANT TO WRITE THIS STORY ANYMORE!!!!! Hang on a sec.... a light bulb just went out in my head. How about I rewrite my sister's story, it'll be different (more violence and language), but the English and grammar will sky rocket. A better story than this.... How do you guys think of that?
um...ur gonna rewrite the story..but its already great! i mean if ur as great a writer as your sister maybe you ask her if its ok if YOU continued the story...i just dont know if im going to like too much violence..it already has enough...but u can change it around or something...but it would be great if you picked up where she left off..make like a surprising next chapter!! i'll love that!!
I'll try to hold off on more violence for the moment but there will be big fights here and there as the plot increases. I will only tweak the plot she had planned originally a little. I'm definitely going to make a few differences with characters and character relationships, I'm also going to write different perspectives to get a more in depth view of the characters.
Keep in mind she might get jealos. Also, are you certain that you've tried all the options? Showing what she has written to a crush or boyfriend?
....She doesn't have a boyfriend or a crush. She's writing a screenplay at the moment anyway, I'll ask her if she wants to post it here. If not, I don't know what to tell you yet.
it is fine by me
All right, I'm working Dude, This so Star Wars and The Demon's Nature at the moment so it'll be a while until I get to this.