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Pieces of Me

Summary: **I STILL NEED PEOPLE!! Badly!** Artemis goes into a mysterious coma. Meanwhile a war rages in a mysterious land. Can you solve the riddle?

Chapters: 1 2 3

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“Oh, be quiet, it’s not thhatt baad.”

Still, the other figure squrmed in the dark, silently. Somebody hissed, and there was a pause.

“It’s heavy.”

“I carried it over here juust ffiinnne.”

“But you had…”

As soon as the words were out the speaker regretted it. There was a collective, sharp intake of breath as the glowing eyes in the dark widened in what might have been surprise.

“We will discuss those laaterr…. Afffter we do the dirty workk.”

There were murmurs of agreement, and the meeting may have well been dismissed, but the atmosphere had some expectancy to it, as if there was one thing left to say. And, actually, there might have been.

“Reemembberr…” The sentence didn’t need completion. The eyes in the dark shined with renewed passion. They were, they did remember, the elites, after all.

***

“MOVE! MOVE! MOV- damnit.” What had began a wild stampede of refugees became stock still and stone silent in a matter of seconds. He hardly breathed, fearful that his breath might cloud the chilly morning air. Yet no matter how many times he told himself he was more or less in charge of the situation, he felt the still unfamiliar rush of euphoria every time.

He had to trust his flock for now, trust that they would stay perfectly silent. Trust that they knew the drill. But of course they did; he was the one who taught them, wasn’t he?

It was silent for longer than it needed to  be. It was quiet until he waved his hand, and the few survivor’s eyes glowed with an emotion best left undescribed. They slunk slowly away like a pack of foxes. Then again, foxes were solitary animals.

I know where we’re going from here, he told himself. Over, and over again: I know where I’m going. It was a bold statement for someplace he had only been a few times, but that was the only way. They would, eventually, find out. But this time they were going farther. No compromises, only survivors. It was his motto from the very beginning.

As he led them through a street and under a pile of overturned and slightly rusty cars, he realized the reality of the situation. This was their third night on the road. They only had supplies for two more, and he hadn’t ever traveled this far with this many people. Yes, this new hideout had better be good.

With a nod of his head, he led his pack, his little flock of lambs, his responsibility for today away from the filth-pile, over the hill and…

It was beautiful to behold. The horizon seemed forever away, but it was there that he saw what could only be it. It was a pile of rubble, horribly exposed. It was their new home now that the word ‘home’ was pure fantasy.

The group moved along in almost silence. Twice someone stepped on a bit of scrap metal, and the little company would stare wide-eyed and look around frantically. Each step they would relax, just a bit, only to hear some phantom noise which chilled their thoughts and made their hearts beat faster. But once, the phantom noises didn’t stop. They became real noises, then recognizable noises, the pop, the crash, the roar that had become all to familiar, each one bringing a new memory to each frightened mind. The sound of Grenades.

The Grenades weren’t real grenades, of course. But they looked like them at first. When the war started, they used grenade shells, but it soon became obvious that they weren’t filled with gunpowder or explosives of any kind. They eventually progressed from grenades to old bottles to tin cans, and the destruction of the Grenades remained the same: a mess of pure fire, dark magic, and the very essence of insanity itself. And the noise, a hideous hissing noise, was unmistakable.

He nodded franticly towards the nearest rubble pile, and instantly began digging a shallow hole. He took care to dig it nicely; knowing that it could very well end up his grave. For the thousanth time that day, he realized that they were less likely to make it to the next checkpoint. The idea of death on the field no longer scared him, not like it had before. Now it was an unbeatable game; violent death was inevitable. Now, all it mattered was that they didn’t get the satisfaction of their victim’s madness.

Dust exploded as a Grenade went off just outside their primitive barrier. It swirled around him, obscuring his vision of the other travelers as the air itself began to turn against them. There was a battle out there; the screaming was heard just outside. But it was ending. The kill had been made already.

He didn’t need to issue the command; the survivors of countless attacks knew the next step: wait ten minutes. Look for survivors. The ten minute rule was too short, really, as they were the most patient of creatures. A year seemed not long enough sometimes. Ten minutes was also a yardstick: if you could survive a Grenade that long, you were worth saving. Supplies were limited, and if you weren’t dead in ten minutes like most were, then you would probably wouldn’t waste them. It passed like an eon.

He opened his eyes after the dust had cleared, but the fresh memory hadn’t. The flock was still there: five helpless, fearful faces. He nodded and they picked themselves up.

There. That dirt pile. No? Nobody? Try that overturned car. Noone there either? Well, the tree. Try that. Yeah, there’s nobody anywhere, like always. Protocol, people. I didn’t think there would be– Wait.

That… that sinkhole.

He motioned to his flock to spread out, and the slowly advanced. However, their shepherd was the first and only to look into the pit. just like they had done so many times before. And so many times he had seen only gore and bits, or a soulles, maddened victim, condemned to the worst of fates. But, as you may have predicted, this time would not be one of those times. This time.

There were three figures in the pit. The first was obviously still conscious, but barely; she was a teenage girl sitting cross-legged in the center of the pit, wearing what appeared to be her pajamas. She would probably make it. The second was a little boy. He looked about ten, with messy brown hair. He was curled up next to the girl, looking as if he had crawled there just before he fell asleep. Or lost consciousness;  it was impossible to tell. If he hadn’t fallen into a coma already, he definitely had a chance.

The third and final figure was more questionable. He was pressed up against the wall of the pit, leaning against it like it was a giant armchair and he was a lazy teen who had just gotten home from a long day at school. His suit was torn to shreds- awful traveling gear, anyways- and his black hair a mess. That one he was less sure about. With a nod, he motioned to his flock that it was safe.

They pulled each out of the pit without much trouble. The next question, however, was transportation. The girl probably wouldn’t be able to walk very far at first, and neither would the little boy. The kid in the suit wouldn’t make it far at all, if he could stand in the first place. If he was even alive in fifteen minutes.

He hesitated for the first time in… what felt like awhile. Then he turned to the flock with authority on his face.

“Felix,” he turned to a black-haired female that was probably the punk-rock sort at one point in her life. “Carry the girl; and have East help you if you get tired.” East was a little blond kid, a good friend of Felix.

“And So. Get the, get the little kid.” So was short but imposing, though quiet and was suffering hearing damage. She looked up from drawing a picture in the dust to confirm her instructor’s voice. “And let Nix help you every once in a while.” Nix was already staring at him with his bright grey eyes.

“What about the one in the suit?” Felix asked. “You can’t take him on your own.”

“No,” the shepherd replied, already lifting up the unconscious kid in question, “I probably can’t. But I can try.”

So they picked up their new (but still unconscious) members of their flock and they were off to their new refuge without a trace.

Chapters: 1 2 3

Comments on This Post

13 responses to “Pieces of Me.” Join in!

  1. Username: Iris_Cam

    Shortened/Code Name: Iri

    Apperence: (I may alter it slightly) Midnight black with electric blue streaks, done up Miku style (See: http://t3.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcSyLz86wUaYGyaGFfVDxPCCVclAt76d2zkEYE1S5wrJToTFDRUTyw ) Normally wears a white top and skirt, has a pair of green tinted contact lenses that she uses sometimes.

    Personality: Introvert. Can appear cold and calculating at times, but really, she’s just practical.

    Weaknesses and Strengths: (Same number, please!) Really good at maths, is a good liar. Can run quickly.
    Has very few friends due to introvert nature, but gets lost for words a lot. Lack of stamina means that even though she has speed, she burns out very quickly.

    What sort of thing would you store a soul in?
    A glass charm in a pendant.

  2. KristinN.V.
    Shortened,: Krackle, Queenie,or Krissy.
    Appearence: I wear blue jeans,black hear,kinda short,I usually wear kitten shirts,tennis shoes,
    personality: never talk to strangers,holds a long grudge,always protective,never,never,aggrivate me.oh and I’m also 12,smart,and somehow always have a weapon on hand.
    Weakness: I have no idea,make one for me
    Strength: able to make people nervous,always investigates,and combat.
    Store a soul:pandora’s box.
    I swear this is my real personality.

  3. Username:StarFire101 -used to be- WildeRose121

    Shortened/Code Name:Wilde

    Appereance: Long wavy black hair. Flashing dark blue eyes. Very short and is sensitive about her height. Slender. Dark red long sleeved top and black-and-gray pinstriped pants.

    Personality: Obnoxious, Smart-alecky, can be nice when it matters, and a HUGE flirt.

    Weaknesses and Strengths: My weaknesses are hot guys, roses, and music. My strengths are computers, literature, and hiding my true feelings.
    What sort of thing would you store a soul in? I would store it in a rose, with it entwined and tangled in the petals.

    P.S: This is amazing! Please put me in it. I give you 5/roses! FCD.

  4. Username:Eragon Fowl

    Shortened/Code Name: Eragon

    Apperence:Black hair and dark brown eyes

    Personality:Greedy and is always worried and is always very very hyper

    Weaknesses:Fear and not very strong
    Strengths: Intellect and medieval weapons
    What sort of thing would you store a soul in? Cookie

  5. WE, in. *glomps Fal* Ah, I’ve missed your works — and this is why. Great imagery, use of words (diction for you weirdos~), overall writing and sentence structure. Very few grammar mistakes, but I believe that you’ve improved. *so proud* I personally think that this would work very well as a oneshot, though. Angsty without being overly depressing and with great description on the situation — realistic and relatable. ^^

    Username: wrr0rzxpurrt (it’s quite the fingerful. Hahah — no.)

    Shortened/Code Name: WE

    Apperence: You spelled “appearance” wrong. xDD *huggles* Alright, same as I always do it — hair so long that it gets in the way, dead-straight and brown-black (mostly black). Tanned skin, brown eyes. Wears pretty much the same thing all the time — some sweatshirt or other, a t-shirt underneath, and a pair of jeans (skinny or not) with sneakers.

    Personality: Sense of humor is based off of self-deprecation and an overload of sarcasm. Makes lots of hand gestures, most of which are based off of “gangster” moves. Can get distracted kinda easily and talks a lot when she has something to say. Will spaz. Will be OCD. Will be playful/cheerful/ridiculous. Will be violent. Will deny that she is violent. Says blargh a lot and pulls the most awkward-looking facial expressions. Makes song references at an infuriating rate.

    Weaknesses and Strengths: Physically weak, but pretty good with thinking, strategizing, understanding. Lazy and paranoid. Tends to be very awkward. OK with video games, but couldn’t fight actual combat for any amount of time.

    What sort of thing would you store a soul in?: Mm… something that I’d always keep close to me, like maybe the necklace I always have tucked under my shirt. You only ever see it if you catch a glimpse of the red braided thread the pendant hangs by.

  6. Shattered Sparks November 11th, 2011 at 5:09 am 6

    Username: Shattered Sparks (LEPreconGirl over at the forum. *waves to forum-goers*)

    Shortened/Code Name: Spark

    Apperence: (I may alter it slightly) Very pale blue/grey eyes, jaw length dirty blonde/light brown hair, that’s shorternin the back, the really straight kind that stands straight up when I’m touching a vandygraph generator. (Sparks!) Pale skin, like I spend my life in a dark room. (My room is NOT dark! And I go outside!) Short, and certain unnamed people make fun of me for it. (*he’s being ignored now*) Usually in either shorts that reach my knees, the cloth kind, not basketball shorts, or dark jeans that are wonderfully soft. A t-shirt, like a nicer one is a must, along with my scruffy, beat up tennis shoes. Sometimes has small black spheres as earrings, and is often wearing a sweatshirt, a plain one with pockets.

    Personality: Wow am I messed up. Overall, I guess I’d say b*tchy moments that I lament over privately, and therefore consider myself worthless. Tries to appear tougher than am, hates looking weak. Gets too into stuff, like the little switch in your brain saying ‘bad idea!’ is faulty. I’m either the rational one or the quiet girl who’s helping things move along. Uses many hand gestures, often unconsciously. Tells people to shut up or insults them in French frequently. Has moment’s where you’d swear I was hallucinating, or insane, and well, it does frequently seem that way. Spacey, needs to remind self that yes, physical objects are not allowing to walk through. Hates, hates, hates! And sort of sexual/dating jokes made about her, and frequently switches to third person when speaking, as well as random accents. (Nuu! Stay away, southern accent!) nerd. Geek. Obsessive about robots, OCD/ADHD when it’s convenient. Anger issues, needs to stop swatting heads. Afraid of parents. When angry usually shaking with fury.

    Weaknesses and Strengths: (Same number, please!) Logical, fast learner, poor memory at flat memorization, often very spacey. Pretty good physical condition, could probably survive a fight, but is not a distance runner. Pretty good with technogy, but horrible at coding. Reasonably athletic, but isn’t great at sports.

    What sort of thing would you store a soul in? The ring I never take off/bracelet I never take off/ a special jar or box or somethibg/ MY BODY 😀

  7. Absent_Minded_Professor January 29th, 2012 at 11:54 pm 7

    Username: Absent_Minded_Professor
    shortened/code name: Fox. Yeah, I like that. Fox.
    Appearance: light brown hair down to my shoulders; brown eyes; tall for my age; glasses; usually wears jeans, a sweatshirt, a T-shirt, and sneakers
    Personality: zoned out(is there a word for that?), quiet in school, NOT quiet at home, compassionate, a deep thinker, hard on myself, responsible
    W.&S.: Smart, but ridiculously absent-minded; I have some musical ability, but, as my bio says, I would be lucky to draw a decent stick figure; I am in reasonably good shape and thin, but I’m not very fast and not exacly 5-kilometer material
    Soul: um… either my watch or my mother’s ring (which I wear every minute of every day)

  8. Username: Nikki Kelp

    Shortened/Code Name: Nikki or Gray.

    Appearance: blue green eyes, Long brown hair pulled into loose and low pigtails, small, shorter then everyone else, wears a loose black T-shirt that she cut up the neck so it will go off her shoulder, and blue genes. she also uses a piece of black fabric as a belt. due to her being small and short she looks really young. she also ties strips of fabric around her wrist and put a round locket with the chines symbol for rain on one and wears it as a choker.

    Personality: smart, but she uses her appearance to her advantage so people will underestimate her. she acts really young, (kinda like Bellatrix from HP)

    Weaknesses and Strengths:Weaknesses, since she looks young people treat her like she is younger, she is terrified of horses (centaurs to)she gets frustrated VERY easily. Strengths, very athletic and (even-though she is small) she can beat almost anyone up,
    she is gifted in the use of almost all weapons as well as marshal arts.

    What sort of thing would you store a soul in?
    a box that looks like a small red book, or her Chinese symbol choker.

    Please add me!

  9. Wow, I like this so far. What happened? Was there some kind of attack on the manor? Was there and accident? Where’s Butler?

    Yeah.

    Username: ArtfullyInsane

    Shortened/Code: AI (ay)

    Appearance: Has blonde hair that curls in some places, and is straight in others (it’s weird. It just does it on it’s own accord) that she often keeps in a bun. Should wear her glasses, but instead keeps them perched on top of her head where they will be of no use. Rather unnoticeable eye color, somewhere in between blue and gray. Bold (rather shaped) eyebrows. Wears comfortable clothes (hates things that are too tight, they make her feel claustrophobic).

    Personality: Quiet and introverted, but is loud and talkative (stumbles in speech a lot) in certain moments (like when a topic she knows about comes up.) Quotes random things. Hums random things. Sarcastic. Uncomfortable under pressure. Stressed out easily. Reads as escape.

    Weaknesses and Strengths: Awkward around people in general, athletically challenged, forgetful, but a good reader/writer and a fair musician (violin and piano)and really looks deeply into things.

    What sort of things would you store a soul in?: Probably a good book, squashed between the pages of her favorite part. That, or in one of the random doohickeys in her pocket, like that wing charm that she still needs to find a chain for…

  10. the huntress (or tress) April 26th, 2012 at 12:09 pm 10

    Ooohh… this sounds REALL good. You set the scene nicely. The only thing? Chapter 1… I thought her name was Angeline. Is Angel just short for Angeline? But other than that, magnificent! Press on, Dear Fanfic-er. 😀
    so…*Breham Ahem*

    Username: The Huntress

    Shortcode: Tress

    Appeance: Short brown hair with annoying bangs, sharp blue eyes, delicate features. Wears a ‘Wild Child’ T-shirt (Black with sparkly words) Caki Capris and striped knee-high socks (Red and Black), And epic drawn-on old comverse.Always has her Skullcandy Headphones (orange) around her neck.

    Personality: A wild, fun loving girl of fifteen who is VERY extrovert, always pulling pranks. Very mischievous. Often can be found sketchy very awesome comic drawings, and loves Irish music. She’s the kind of roll-the-top-on-on-the-convertible-and-blast-the-music kinda girl. Also loves old rock:Def Leopard, Skid Row, Motely Crue, Twisted Sister, etc. Loves Psychology, art, Animals,archery, Ireland, Fiddle. Always has a random stash of gum. Like Foaly and his carrots. 🙂

    Weakness and strengths: Very determined, sometimes a little forceful. Is very intuituve, can notice someones demeanor instantly. Weakness… she never lets anyone inside. Keeps up her life-loving demeanor up, but never lets anyone see the deep-thinker within. One of those people you can trust to be herself (peer pressure can screw it)

    Soul storing: Nayone else think that’s an odd question? Er.. okay… in her precious Fiddle. Which always manages to bring with her wherever she goes.

    Great job, dude! Please update!

  11. Hey look, I finally read it.
    //shot
    Anyway, you might wanna fix chap. 2, there’s a few mistakes here and there. Overall, very well done, I can’t wait to see more!
    No clue if I signed up for this, but you already know freaking everything about me, sooo… Yeah. |D
    5/5, as usual, my good friend.
    Update or fear the wrath of my modified sledgehammer >:3
    (no, that has nothing to do with my fic.)

  12. Username: Amber Root

    Shortened/Code Name: Amy

    Appearence: (I may alter it slightly) Medium long brown hair, deep blue eyes. A long neon pink sleeved shirt, black skinny jeans that tuck into her knee high heeled black boots. Finally, black glasses(http://www.coolframes.com/get_image.php?fid=54345&color=1091465&alt= I really have this for real.

    Personality: utgoing all the way~! Shes the type of person who loves, loves loves Butler. Fun and sweet. A fighting type. Oh and a major smart alack and friendly.

    Weaknesses and Strengths: (Same number, please!) (You can come up with it.)

    What sort of thing would you store a soul in?: The locket on the side of her glasses.

    _____

    You happy, aunt? You have another person to puppet. x)

  13. Am I too late?

    Screen name: SilverGoddess

    Nickname: Sil or Silve

    Appearance: black hair that reaches waist, (clothing all black) skinny jeans, fitted t-shirt, leather jacket, combat boots, gray and silver eyes, heavy but not overboard eyeliner, black nail polish and always carrys around silver bow and arrows.

    S&W: freakishly good at hand to hand combat, highly intelligent and a good strategist(includes hacking), and can read minds. Overly confident in own abilities, so rarely obeys orders, can let emotions get in the way, and is a slow runner.

    Store soul: in a ruby and silver pendant that hangs on a short and unbreakable chain.

    Your story is really neat and I hope I can still be included!

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