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 Posted: Fri Dec 19, 2008 9:47 pm
Running ( a short story)
Cathy ran her lungs burning like the summer sun, but she could not stop.... No not until she knew she had lost him. Her brow dripped with hot sweat and she could no longer fell her fingertips. She heard the howl of a lonely coyote and paused than ran to hide in a damp cave.
She fainted then and awoke to a bright day in the middle of a desert. Her blue jeans were covered in filth, her neon green shirt ripped over her chest and across her slim stomach. She wiped a chocolate brown strand out her face. Her, used to be long and curly hair, was now matted. Her chilly blue eyes adjusted as she stepped outside.
She had lost the vampires.... for now.....
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Posted: Mon Dec 22, 2008 3:01 pm
Hey sorr for not posting this before the story.
Description:
Cathy is a young 20 year old Kitsune. Her kind are wild and somewhat agressiv. There enimies are the black-suited vampires. Vampires are tightwads bent on controling the kitsune's and other demons (including werewolves) as freak shows for a lil extra cash. Vampires don't usually suck blood, but are basicaly imortal jerks, and are called Vampires because they seem dead inside and are a lot like lawyers. wink Hope you enjoy.
Signed,
Star
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Posted: Mon Dec 22, 2008 3:58 pm
Cathy ran her fingers through her hair.... 'What now?' She thought, 'where do I go from here? Hide in this cave for the rest of my life? Or do I live in fear out there for the rest of my life?' She thought of her life past: her unfaithful boyfriends.... her caring and concerned friends. Her loving family..... She also thought of dieing single..... Was she really going to stay here, or face them like the kitsune she was?
Cathy stood and looked out over the rough landscape of the desert. She sighed and as pride consumed her she decided. She was going to face them, whether or not she died trying. But she couldn't do it alone.
Cathy ran using her kitsune speed she ran 50mph and after that she really picked up speed and ended up in at the doorstep of Michael St. Hogan, her old friend and weaponry extraordinar.
Cathy stepped into the small solar powered house. Outside the house was a 9ft by 9 clay house with HUGE solar panels atop; inside it had a small air conditioner, a large table/bed, and a min fridge. Blue prints of new weapons and old ones with some improvements lay every where. She laughed as she saw Michael asleep in an sweat stained T and navy jean caprices. Cathy nudged his arm and he woke with a start.
"AH!!! YOU HAVE NO PROOF THERE'S NOT ENOUGH EVIDENCE!!!" Michael screamed falling to the floor.
He stood and smiled then sighed, "Oh.... it's you Cat…. What do you need this time?”
“Guns, Saint, why else would I be staring at your ugly mug right now?” Cathy replied sarcastically, though it wasn’t half true.
Michael St. Hogan was a handsome young wolf: Age 30 yrs, height 5’11’, and tan with sandy blond hair that was cut surfer style. He was sculpted only because he basically hulled over 200lb.s of metal a day and it was his passion. He was living the dream doing what he loved. Though others would call him shady Cathy called him an imagist, after all most creative and/or brilliant people are a little insane.
Saint lifted up four grenades, a large and raged brown traveling bag, and ten cherry bombs and tossed them at her. He smiled at her with all the seductiveness he had, but Cathy as usual was unaffected by his charms. She nodded her thanks to him, and started out the door. Saint grabbed her shoulder and she flipped him over her shoulder. He landed with a thud.
“Maybe next time?” He asked gasping for air.
Cathy laughed and walked off.
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