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Rated: E · Chapter · Fantasy · #1112509
here's chapter one of my novel in progress. its still rough, so please R&R.
Michael slammed his fists into the locker door three times in quick succession. The already battered door creaked in protest and swung slowly open. “About damn time it opened!” Spat a gangly youth leaning against the wall.

“Watch your mouth Everett. You should be grateful I'm giving you a ride home.” Said Michael. “I’m gonna be late.” Everett’s sneer said no thanks would be forthcoming.

The boys walked down the hall to the entrance of the school. As they walked to Michael’s car, they waved to the school librarian. “You should ask for a new car as a graduation present. This thing is a piece of crap!” quipped Everett. Michael shot him a stern glance and said
“You’re just mad that they made you stay after school and help clean up the art room, so shut up.”

He opened his door, sat down, and turned the key in the ignition switch. The old sedan sputtered to life. Everett got into the passenger seat and the brothers pulled out of the parking lot in a sullen silence. As Michael turned onto a tree-lined lane, he switched on the radio and set the station to his favorite classic rock station. After driving down the lane for about a mile, Michael turned the car into an immaculately kept concrete driveway. He reached down to lower the volume on the radio and said “Tell Mom and Dad that I’ll be home late tonight. Tara’s asked me for help her study for the history test.”

Everett nodded affirmative and stepped out of the car. As he stepped out, he turned his back to Michael, hugged himself, and made wet kissing sounds. “That’s what you call studying, right?” Everett laughed and sprinted into the house.

“You disgusting little punk!” Michael shook his head, then backed the car out and set off for work. He sped down a disused alley, and then cut onto a side street. As he sped down the side street, he kept careful watch for the local police.

As he pulled into Conrad’s Eatery he checked his watch. Ten minutes to change. He raced through the back door and ran headlong into Conrad himself. “ Quickly, Michael! The dinner rush is starting early! Everyone is swamped.” Michael raced into the changing room and doffed his faded jeans and T-shirt. He replaced them with a pair of black slacks, a white button-down shirt, and an obnoxious red and green bowtie. He waved to the cooks as he flew past them and grabbed an order pad. He slowed before entering the main dining hall.

Tara, the hostess for the night, waved him over. As he walked over he studied her. She was undeniably attractive, with a slim athletic figure, long dark brown hair, and blue eyes you could drown in. “ Michael, I need you to cover table three. An elderly couple just got here.” Michael smiled “ I’ve got it covered.” He scooped up two menus and strode off to greet the old folks.

For the next three hours, Michael’s world revolved around the flood of customers known as the dinner rush. When the rush cleared, Michael took a moment to sit and gather his thoughts. Tara was still behind the podium at the front entrance. Sam and Barry, the other two waiters on shift, were clearing the last of the tables. Conrad came through the door to the kitchen and waved everyone to him. “ Listen everybody, you worked hard tonight. I’ve got to go watch my daughter’s violin concert, so we’re gonna close early.” Everyone cheered. “Lets get this place cleaned up and we can take off.” The waiters wiped down the tables and washed the dishes while the cooks put up the food. Tara and Conrad swept the floors.

“Hey Conrad, why don’t I mop the floors for you? You can go watch your daughter’s concert and everyone else can leave.” Michael walked in with a mop bucket. “Thank you Michael. Make sure you lock the doors and turn out the lights.” With that, Conrad turned and left. Tara walked over and smiled.

“You are coming over to study tonight aren’t you?” she looked at Michael questioningly. “Of course I will! I’ll be over as soon as I’m done here.” Michael grinned. “Hurry, please.” Tara grabbed her coat and walked out the back door.

Michael watched her leave then made a circuit of the restaurant, locking doors and windows. After completing that task, he returned to the main dining room. The room was quite large and very dirty from the passage of customers. Michael dipped his mop, wrung it out, and began scrubbing.

As he worked his way across the room he began to feel watched. Figuring the sensation to be a byproduct of his situation, he resumed working. The feeling returned more strongly a moment later and when Michael looked behind him an incredibly tall man in a black robe leaned against the hostess’ podium. Hadn’t he locked the doors?

“Excuse me sir. We’re closed for the night, so I’ll have to ask you to leave.” The man lifted his head slightly, revealing an inhumanly long snout. “You’re the one, yesss? You mussst come with me.” A forked tongue whipped out to taste the air. “ I’m not going any where you… whatever you are!” Michael could feel the adrenaline begin to energize his body. “Get out of here before I call the cops."

The snake-man produced a heavy cudgel and a small dagger from within his robes and lunged at Michael. “You will come! Willingly or not, I will bring you with me.” Michael dodged around the charge and grabbed the mop. He gave a stout kick to the base of the handle to free it from the mop head then turned to face his attacker. The reptile gave an awful leer and launched himself headlong at Michael once more.

Adroitly sidestepping the clumsy attack, Michael sent the handle lancing out to entangle the beast’s legs. The hideous reptile was sent sprawling, but he took almost a foot of mop handle with him. As he stared at the broken mop handle and the foul creature trying to kidnap him, Michael felt a crimson wave swell within him.

With a primal howl, Michael executed his own charge. He barreled toward the now rising abomination and threw the mop handle into a devastating overhand chop. The handle smashed across the snake-man’s face, shattering its snout and spinning it back to the floor. With an awful hiss, the monstrosity launched himself toward Michael in a flying tackle. The impact blasted the air from Michael’s lungs and scattered a table and chairs. The dagger curved in a wicked arc for Michael’s hamstring.

Michael smashed his left knee into the beast’s chest, just below the sternum, and thrust the fingers on his right hand into the snake’s eyes. The beast rolled away and righted itself. Michael also took the opportunity to rise. He had barely gotten to his feet when the snake-man charged again, dagger leading.

Michael grabbed the monster’s wrist and twisted it counter-clockwise as hard as he could. The wrist broke with a series of grotesque snaps. Michael grabbed the dagger from limp fingers and jammed it up through the snake’s jaw. The knife grated along bone and the monster began to twitch uncontrollably. The beast’s cudgel flew from its grasp and struck Michael squarely in the temple.

He reached for a fallen chair and righted it barely in time to collapse into it. As he sat, a voice like a rockslide rumbled through his mind. The rumbling reverberated till Michael thought his already pounding head would explode. /Well done indeed! The Geweneidr are formidable opponents even in the best of times. To best one as you have takes great skill. / Michael shook his head. /Am I dreaming? / He wondered. /No my dear, you aren’t. This is quite real, and quite dangerous. You must take care in the coming days. /

This voice sounded soft and warm and feminine. Who are you? Thought Michael. At this point a third voice broke in. this voice radiated confidence and command. /Our names are not important. What is important is that you are in great danger. You must listen! We are trying to help you with your current predicament, but no help can be guaranteed. / Michael tried to pull his muddled thoughts together. /What predicament? Aside from a dead…snake thing in the middle of my employer’s place of business! /

He tried to stand and at this point the adrenaline that had kept him from realizing the impact of the nights events wore off. He found himself struggling to stand on legs that felt as though they were made of wet tissue paper. His legs gave out and he collapsed to the floor shaking and trembling. He was then conscious of his floating in a sea of darkness. The darkness was sprinkled with glowing sparks. Michael marveled at the beauty of the scene before him. A chill ran through his body and he turned with a sense of impending doom. As he turned, he watched an ink black wave moved toward him, gathering speed and height. The tsunami crashed over him and he was lost in darkness.
© Copyright 2006 Nathan Nordal (kingofgeeks615 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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