My Blood Runs Through The Catacombs.

Grammar isn't my strongest point so i know they may be a few proplems with that here so any help with that would be great. It's also not very well told because this is just edited notes. When i have wrote it better i will switch the two, but i thought i would send this in for now.



  Chapter 1



If it’s to perfect, don’t trust it.



A young girl runs through a catacomb, screaming in terror as she sprints as fast as she can, faster than she has ever sprinted I’m sure. War paint pasted all over her face in the form of blood, some dry some fresh, and mud. As she continues, she stops as she sees something, something that brings a slight smile to her traumatised face, a relieved smile as she sees a pole in the ground, a pole with a skull embedded to the top of it.



“I’m free, I’m nearly free.” She murmurs as her face looks ready to explode with pleasured emotion. Her delight is soon turned back to horror as she is suddenly grabbed from behind. She is dragged to the middle of the ground and pinned down by two strong men, draped in black clothing. Another man, draped in the same black cloths, walks over to the pole with the embedded skull and pulls it out of the ground.



“Let me go, let me go!” The girl hollers as she squirms around, held tight by the two men. The third man walks over to her and looks at her with a smile on his face, an evil smile, his motivation of what he plans to do with the pole clear as he raises it up in the air. “NO!” She screams her mouth opening wide with the scream. Just then, the pole comes flying down, straight into her opened mouth and her head and digging the ground below. Blood gurgling follows as the two men let go of her, no need to hold her down no longer as the pole is doing that for them.



“We are going to have to be more careful.” The third man says as he wipes of the rust left from the pole on his hands. “This is the closest anyone has ever gotten to escaping.”

_____________________________________________________________________



STEPHANIE-



As I walk out of the airport, I begin to get excited. I couldn’t believe it when my mum told me we were going to be moving to Paris for a whole year, a whole frigging year. Not that I didn’t love my life in the UK, I loved it, it’s just, its Paris, fashion capital of the world and all that shit. Not to mention my best bud Martine moved here too a couple of months ago so the fact she lives here is an added bonus, I did find it strange that we would be moving to the exact same place as Paris as her, bar a few streets, but the words ‘Paris, for one year’ overshadowed that feeling of oddity. I continue my walk out of the airport ahead of my family, mother Myra, father Roy and idiotic, girl obsessed, self centred older brother Tommy. I exit the airport through automatic doors and automatically see Martine.



“Steph!” Martine hollers in the crowed, waving her hand and speed walking towards me. Martine is a beautiful girl. Long gravity defying black curly hair, her face, always pouting and full of make up and always wearing the tartiest of  cloths. Short skirt, tight top showing of her toned stomach, so toned you could do your ironing on it. I always did feel like a dried out oil painting when I was stood next to her back in the UK with my dirty blond kinky, close to frizzy hair. Pale face that barely is touched with make up and loose clothes that still manage to show a bit of podgy on the belly, I’m not massively fat, but the odd takeaway and lack of exercise shows. I was always cotton, average looking to Martine’s silk, vixen looks.



“Marty!” I shout back, letting her come to me rather than attempt to cross the pack of holiday makers exiting and entering the airport.



“Watch it…. Move…” Martine cries out as she barges through the crowed, missing the polite ‘excuse me’. As she finally gets to me I get prepared to give her a hug but instead Martine, hating to be touched, points her cheek to me, rather having the whole kiss on each cheek kind of thing.



“How have you-” I stop to kiss her left cheek. “Been?” I finish my sentence just before kissing her right one.



“Tremendous darling.” Martine answers as her eyes survey me and my cloths with a disapproving look, something I’m use to and just shrug of with a roll of my eyes. My bright, flashy and one of a kind fashion sense often did get the odd stare. I first met Martine when we both was twelve and for the four years I have known her she has always felt the superior one in our friendship to me, but for some reason, I just love the girl.



“Come on lets get going? We have tons to catch up on, lets just wait for Katherine.” Martine utters as she turns and faces the crowed she came from.



“Katherine?” I ask. Just then a sweet polite Irish voice comes from the crowed.



“Excuse me… My apologies I just need too get past.” The voice utters and out comes a beautiful red headed girl.



“Steph meet Katherine…. Katherine meet Steph.” Martine utters.



“Nice to meet you.” I say as I offer out my hand.



“Vice versa.” She responds as she excepts my hand and shakes.



“Now we can go.” Martine says as she begins to walk away.



“Wait, I have to wait and see if Rex is okay.” I answer as I look back to my parents.



“You didn’t bring that slobbering, flea infested canine with you did you?” A disgusting Martine utters referring to my Alsatian dog Rex. I have had Rex since I was ten years old. this may sound a bit stupid but, he is the love of my life, my soul mate.



“Did you really think I would come without him?”



“She was obsessed with this animal back in the UK.”  Martine tells Katherine.



“That so sweet.” Katherine utters back, earning a appalled glare from Martine, I have a feeling me and this Katherine girl are going to get on just fine.



“REXY!” I bellow out as I see my father bringing Rex on his leash. I kneel down and my father lets go of the leash and Rex rushes towards me, jumping up on my knee and licking my face. I can hearing Martine whimpering at this.



“You remember Martine don’t you Rex?” I say to my beloved dog.



“And yet, she still talks to him. How many times have I told you Steph? He don’t understand a thing you say.” Martine scorns, but Rex, proving her wrong, growls at her, answering my question that hew does remember her because he never did like her. “You just keep that runt away from me.” Martine warns, bouncing back from the growl.



“He’s so cute.” Katherine speaks as she bends over and strokes him.



Any ways, give the mutt back to your dad Steph, we got a party to plan.”



“Party?” My dad shrieks, not because he doesn’t want me to go to a party, but because he wants me to work in his new shop.



“Don’t worry dad, it doesn’t start till about seven o’clock, I can still work in the shop.” I say to him.



“Shop?” Martine utters.



“Yeah, my parents have only gone and bought a shop. They going to turn it in to a British culture shop.” I answer.



“Forced to work at sixteen, whatever next?”



“I’m sorry but we don’t all have a rich grandfather to sponge of.” I joke to Martine, my joke causing a different reaction in Martine than I thought. Her face turns to an uneasy look, like she didn’t want her grandfathers name mentioned….



MORE TO FOLLOW ON THIS CHAPTER….