Shadowydreamer’s Scribbles
A Place where a Dreamer throws up stories.
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Dream Scribble
Tisa pounded down the pavement, rain plastering her dyed forest green hair to her scalp. She ducked into the alley that would take her out by the Denny’s. People and light would make her safe and it would only cost her a dollar twenty five to sit at the coffee bar and be warm for a while. She stopped as the figures unfolded from the shadows. This wasn’t the first time they’d precog’d her path, but it was the first they’d stood in her way.
“The master isn’t happy with you,” said the shadow on the left. He was taller, wore a trench coat that swirled against his legs as he strode forward. The street lamp behind her and half hidden by the old pawn shop revealed blonde hair that was cut rather business. He was wearing clothes that weren’t suited for an alley that was used as bathroom more often than not.
His partner looked more suited to the streets of the neglected downtown buildings. He was wearing a motorbike leather with a dragon airbrushed across the back, head coming down the left sleeve. She’d seen him enough times to know him at a glance. He was known as Tear. He never seemed to do much of anything but occassionalley go off for coffee and chats with the various street rats and personalities. She’d had one chat with him and been avoiding him ever since.
“The master made you a very generous offer, but you turned him down,” the left shadow continued. Something about his movements weren’t right, he seemed to move like an oil slick. Tisa kept an eye on Tear, judging her chance of escape by his movements. He seemed perfectly happy to lean up against the alley wall, shoulder against brick, and let the shadow do all the talking. The shadow stopped in front of her, looking down at her.
Tisa wasn’t short. One of the reasons she’d joined the misfit crowd of youths was because she was tall and gangly, never fit in with those around her. This guy towered over her, it made an already tight stomach knot further. She was debating turning and taking her chances with those who had been chasing her when another form entered the alley mouth where she’d come from.
The new form seemed as wide as he was tall. He could have given a few of the CFL’ers a lesson in linebacking. His scent reached her, he smelt of old cigarettes and leather. He was wearing a sweet Duster than she’d have given two thoughts of rolling him for if it wouldn’t have wrapped around her skinny frame six times and tripped her ankles. Why did the tall skinny people never wear the cool clothes?
“Leave the kid alone, Jackson.” The voice was rough and travelled over her head to the shadow.
“She’s one of our’s.” The shadow, Jackson, replied.
“Not yet.” was the reply as the new comer drew even with her and faced off against Jackson.
“She’s not one of your’s.” Jackson sneered, “So you may as well keep out of it.”
“I’m tired of keeping out of it.” the new comer said, moving his head oddly sideways, each ear touching shoulder like he was loosening up. “The elders aren’t here to know otherwise, are they?”
“Jack..” Tear warned, standing up straight and looking less at ease.
Whatever warning Tear had been about to start got waved down. “Mirall, I’ve been looking forward to this.” He smiled a toothy smile that flashed canines unusualley long in the doubtful light.
“Hey kid, hold my jacket.” Mirall, the linebacker or whatever he was, shrugged out of the beautiful leather trenchcoat and handed it to her. Not so gently he shoved her out of the way as Jackson dropped civility and charged.
Tisa let out a squeel as her would-be rescuer went down under psychopath. The sickening crunching of bone and flesh sound had her run back the way she came, startling Tear into letting her go. She’d been in more than one fight, she’d tossed business people, but never had she heard those sickening thuds, tears and meaty sounds. She ran until she lost herself, leaning up against a lamp post panting.
She was surprised to find she was still holding the duster. She tossed it over a shoulder so she could wipe her hands on her jeans and catch her breath. It was several minutes before she felt almost normal again and looked around. A few doors down was a McDonalds. Not her idea of ideal coffee, especialley since they guilted you if you tried to get your one free refill, but right now warm, well lit and populated meant a lot.
The restaurant didn’t have a lot of people in it, but it was populated enough to make her feel centered once more. She ordered the large coffee with entirely too much sugar and cream and grabbed one of the read while you eat newspapers. She didn’t much care what was happening on the other side of the world, but it would give her something to occupy her mind with.
She was halfway through figuring her way through why the Canucks were trading one of their better defensemen to the Maple Leafs for a promise of a good draft slot when the chair opposite her was suddenly filled. Normalley she had an awareness of beings around her, but the linebacker, Mirall just seemed to appear out of nowhere.
He was dressed conservatively, a little mountain man, Tisa thought. Hoodie, jeans, hiking boots. His beard was a bit scraggly, like he’d hit puberty and never touched blade to it and his medium brown hair was halfway down his back. His eyes were the strangest shade of pale. “My coat?” he asked, eyebrow raised. He seemed to act like they’d been planning to meet here all along.
She nodded to the chair beside her, trying to swallow her rapidly beating heart. “How’d you find me so fast?” she asked, ten thousand thoughts whirling.
He grinned, perfectly even white teeth. No strange canines. “Followed your scent.”
“I heard you get pummelled.” She continued, fingers toying with the edge of the newspaper.
He shook his head, “Naw, you heard me dropping shape to properly deal with one of the night walkers. Doesn’t sound real pretty, sorry I couldn’t warn you. Some folks don’t remember, some do.”
“Dropping..” She sighed and put her hands palm down on the table before picking up her nice large, warm coffee. “What kind of moron do you think I am, or what kind of freaks are you and your two shadow buddies? Am I supposed to suddenly go ‘Oh, he saved me, I must trust him with everything!’?”
Mirall’s grin managed to widen. “I’m not asking for anything but my coat. I offered you explanations, but I can’t help if they don’t fit your world.” He reached across the table to snag his jacket. Tisa felt a pang at the loss, even though it had never been her’s and it wouldn’t have fit right anyway. “But you might want to ask why those night walkers are being so persistant in tagging your tail.”
She was getting mad. Enough of the cloaks and daggers. “Okay, and why are those ‘night walkers’, which by the way, means ‘hooker’ in this part of the world and they certainly aren’t, chasing me?”
“‘Cause m’dear, you have something they want.” He stood up to shrug into his jacket.
“Well, duh.” she replied with the sarcasm and scorn off the teenager she’d once been and had gotten her tossed out of her parent’s house.
“You might want to be asking yourself what that is. I wouldn’t know.” He turned to leave in a swirl of leather.
“Hey.” She stopped him, curiousity winning over common sense and street smarts for a moment. “Dropping shape? What did yiou turn into? A werewolf?”
He snorted, looking quite offended. “Please.” He then shrugged as if settling fur, “I am a big fucking cat.”
Eyebrow raised at the disaply of what she hoped was insanity, Tisa watched the man turn sideways and duck to get back out onto the dark street. Insane or not, he had a point. Those thugs wanted her for a reason and it was obviously time to relocate. It was a bit early to be heading up valley, there wouldn’t be much transient work, but she could find an empty summer home to squat in none the less.
She downed the last of her coffee and put the paper back. She remembered her grandma once saying courtesy didn’t cost you nothing and it always brought good returns. She idealley wondered if all the small acts of courtesy she tried to do equalled one big mother fucker showing up to save her ass in a darkened alley.
March 30th, 2009 at 2:31 pm
I don’t usually comment on this stuff but I gotta say.. nice blog