Fate Sucks Chapter 10: Whateley Version

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The next day it was my birthday and the day that Mrs. Richards left, Kota was seeming more relaxed, and a lot of my fears were becoming lessened. I would be lying if I said I wasn't scared, but talking to someone who'd gone through it and come out happy was a relief. Surprisingly Kota also helped. At first she'd had me thinking I'd be miserable and nothing good would happen with my sex change, but the very tiny bit she was willing to tell me about her family, let me know that I was really lucky to have my parents, even with all the screwed up things.

My birthday supper, which was just my parents, Uncle Herb, Kota and Theresa, serving my favourite meal of excellently cooked medium rare steak that had marinated in Uncle Herbs special ginger marinade over night and all day, mashed potatoes, steamed vegetables, a mixed salad made by me, and a tray of melt in your mouth brownies, was quiet just the way I liked it. I'd have a big birthday party near the end of January with all my friends. The one time I'd tried having my birthday party on my actual birthday, I'd had two out of fifteen people invitee's show up, most people we knew went away on Christmas Eve or sooner and didn't come back until just after New Years, and so soon after Christmas, my birthday had a way of being forgotten. So this was a time for family, and occasional guests, while on the last Saturday in January we'd go all out.

For the rest of the vacation, I spent the morning meditating with Dad, the afternoon I'd go outside with friends, taking Kota and Theresa when they wanted to come out to see the sights, go skating, skiing and snowboarding, and even a dogsled ride, which Kota and Theresa thought was great.

We did go to Vancouver, which was no fun for me, since I had to spend pretty much the whole time getting studied. It was interesting in one way. Dr. Sharpe taught me a new technique that could possibly affect my bit. Meditating on what you thought your body should look like, could theoretically change your bit safely, although you couldn't make big changes like staying a girl or something. So, while Theresa, Kota and Mom met up with the Vancouver heroes, and did all the fun touristy stuff, including a sleigh ride which I would have loved, I was busy thinking of the ideal male body that wouldn't leave me too disgusted seeing in the mirror. That wasn't much fun when everyone else was fishing for Winter Chinook (King Salmon) around Vancouver Harbour, at least I got to eat the fish they caught.

When it was time to put Theresa and Kota back on the plane for Whateley, I didn't have to join them. Between not being so scared anymore, the meditation which I had to keep practicing at school, and the devise I'd gotten for Christmas, I had my powers under control for the most part. So the three of us hugged, quickly, at the airport and promised to stay in touch until they came back for their short break in March.

And then I had to get back to school.

I was amazed at how easy everything was. I had to get my own dorm room, which made me stand out, but it was ok. I got a little lonely at night, seeing all the other girls going off to bed with their roommates, and gossiping, but it helped being a bit introverted and I could deal with my changing body in peace. It wasn't noticeable if you weren't paying a lot of attention, but I was, measuring myself, seeing how my clothes fit, studying my body. Having my own room helped with meditation to, my parents hired an artist to work with me creating a actual picture of my ideal male body, thin, with long limbs and gracefully defined muscle, longish hair (for a boy) that could be styled, not hairy, slightly feminine features, Dad joked I was making myself into a pop star. I smiled and agreed.

By February my bra's were a little looser. Where the other girls were filling out, I was shrinking. And my waist was getting larger. Again not much I would have thickened just as much by eating a bit more food at every supper, but I was slowly going up in size. The same was true for my feet and height. My powers gave me another problem, eating.

Because of how my power worked, I didn't need to eat as much as other energizers unless I used my power for more than a few minutes. But I still had to eat at least one huge meal a day, which would look strange to my classmates. So my Mom gave me something she used everyday to pass as a mostly baseline, the strongest protein drinks on the market. How she drank the gritty water that tasted like bitter tea, I have no idea, but she carried a bottle of the stuff everywhere, and had packs of the powder in her purse so she could refill it every two or three hours. I just had to drink two of them one in the morning and one at night and I was fine. When I drank it around other people, I said it was a medicine and left it at that. The same went for the jewelry, I told them it was a devise which kept the skin problems in check and everything was fine.

Most days I could even forget that I was changing.

Mom and Dad had a fairly normal time, as normally as they could anyways. They fought a couple of supervillains over January, just C and B list ones who thought they could form a group and take control of the Edmonton underworld, which was a fairly important drug route for BC grown marijuana and drugs from Mexico moving from BC ports to Ontario, bypassing the US entirely. Mom, Dad, Snowflake, and Big Horn, got some help from Uncle Herb, Mo Shu Shi, and Cloud Master, to send half of them to prison and the other half running for the hills. So all in all nothing out of the ordinary.

And then it all went straight to hell, all thanks to a group I'd practically forgotten about.

Edmonton, Alberta
1:30pm, March 1st, 2008

My body was still changing. I was wearing gel pads in my bra since I was a plain B cup, and my waist was getting wider, if I was wearing skin tight clothes that would have been noticed, but with my new baggy and layered look no one had really commented on it. Now that I wasn't exercising quite so hard, I was still developing real definition with my muscles, but it had slowed down and I could cover most of it. For the moment. Mom and I were out enjoying the day, trying to get in some more mother daughter time before I turned into a boy.

Mom had gotten me out of school for the afternoon and all the next day, because Theresa and Kota were coming for a visit during their winter break, and would be arriving later in the evening. We were downtown to watch a chick flick together, it was actually pretty warm at about plus 5 Celsius, so we were wearing sweaters and warm pants. For a workday the street was crowded with people enjoying the warm weather. We'd had some fantastic pizza for lunch and I was actually having a good time.

“So after the movie, I'm thinking ice cream,” Mom said.

“And milkshakes?”

“Sure,” she agreed. “But don't tell your Dad, or he'll get jealous. And then we'll pick up the girls and meet your Dad for supper. ”

Looking at my watch, I started to pull her along by her sleeve. “Come on, the movie's about to start.”

“It starts in fifteen minutes, and it has at least that long to just go through the previews.”

“But I want to watch the previews, they're the be-” I stopped in mid-sentence, blood splattered across my face. Mom staggered backwards, a red stain spreading quickly across her shirt.

People screamed and ran. I grabbed Mom as she fell to the ground a look of shock on her face. I think I was screaming to, my hands were red, trying to stop the bleeding. Before I could get a handle on my shock and remember my first aid training, hands grabbed me from behind, yanking me away from Mom, a cloth covered my mouth and I smelled chemicals. I didn't even think, electricity flared around me, the hands were flung away and shouts of pain filled the air.

I spun on the people who had tried to grab me, they looked normal, men and women wearing everyday clothes, some who hadn't gotten shocked pulled out pistols. I clicked my bracelets against my belt. Only two thoughts filled my mind, they'd killed Mom, and I was going to hurt them.

The electrical aura crackled around me, I was able to rip a car door off its hinges at this point, and the enemy had guns. I'd been taught when dealing with guns to either run and get under cover, or get in very close. There was no question what I was going to do.

Shooting a bolt of energy at the furthest gunman, I threw myself at another one. They weren't expecting me to attack, they really weren't expecting me to use my powers like I was. My fist drove into the mans' stomach, he folded over unable to even scream as electricity ran wild through his body, making him spasm and dance on the ground. Ignoring him, I sent another bolt of energy into the attackers.

Something hit me in the back. There wasn't any pain, being so full of adrenaline and energy a car hitting me probably wouldn't have hurt, but I did fall to my knees. Rolling with the fall, I let my aura turn me into a weapon, the smell of cooked meat filled the air as I hit a pair of legs while throwing my arms out sending electricity arcing from my fingers into the group. I was hit again a lot harder, it actually hurt, but I was so tangled up in a mass of bodies, I couldn't tell what had hit me. Rolling onto my back, I started heaving people away.

The little bit I could see went white, and I started choking. Wet powder covered me, cutting off my breathing and damping my electricity. Wheezing, vomiting, trying to clear my mouth so I could get some air, I was grabbed again. People were shouting orders at each other. A damp cloth was put to my mouth again.

Then Moms' voice, weak, quavering and full of fury cut through the chaos. “GET AWAY FROM MY DAUGHTER!”

I was thrown into a van, and tires squealed as it pulled away leaving the sounds of screaming behind. On the plus side they weren't trying to drug me anymore, and I could breath a little. Feebly I tried to wipe the gunk from my eyes.

“Why isn't she dead?!” someone screamed.

A woman answered. “I don't know! Drive faster!” She's catching up!”

“We shot her with a 30.06! How did she survive? How is she keeping up?!”

“I DON'T KNOW! Call the Elders. We have the God Shard but we have a super following us.”

“Dammit!” the first man yelled. “Traffic jam!”

“GO ON THE SIDEWALK YOU IDIOT!”

The van lurched and bounced. There were screams and thuds from outside.

My eyes burned, but I could open them. I saw five blurry people, some of them looked like they had guns. A window was broken, and a gun shot echoed in my ears.

“Police are coming! Go right, GO RIGHT!”

There was shot and swearing as the van almost tipped over. “Stop swerving! I almost had her!”

The van lurched to the side, as what sounded like an explosion hit right next to it. “Shit! It's Fly By!”

“Don't worry. Reinforcements are coming, just keep them off of us and get to the backup site.”

Whatever they'd covered me with had sucked up all the energy from my aura, and that had taken almost all of my charge. I tried to click my bracelets against my belt, but nothing happened. I could feel my own internal charge slowly recovering, but I was only a little stronger then a healthy teenage girl. I had to do something. They'd tried to kill Mom, they were going to get reinforcements soon, and they were probably going to kill me painfully.

The van jerked again. A man fell beside me, he was holding a gun. I threw myself on top of him, Krav Maga training doesn't focus much on ground fighting, so I didn't go for any arm locks or grapples. I started by trying to punch him in the throat and hit his chin instead. He hit me on the side, knocking me off of him and then grabbed me by my sweater. Before he could punch me, I kicked him in the diaphragm, and was back on top with my sweater ripped open, gouging his eyes and nose. He dropped the gun trying to throw me off.

I let him, scrabbling under the seat to get the pistol. They pulled me back out, but the gun was in my hand. Before they realized what was going on, I put three bullets into the back of the drivers seat.

We hit something and the van flipped over with a crunch of metal. Someone landed on top of me and I suddenly couldn't breath again. Every part of me hurt, I wasn't sure I could stand up even if I wasn't being crushed. There was the sound of ripping metal, the weight lessened as people were pulled off of me, and thrown aside, their cries cutting off with painful sounding thuds. Hard hands enveloped me.

Clutching Mom, I started to cry. I'd always knew that some enemy of my parents could try to kidnap me, or that one of my parents could die, but I'd never experienced it so closely before. Even the ritual I'd helped stop wasn't aimed at me or my parents personally, and Mom had never been in any real danger. But I'd just seen her shot, I was beaten and battered, and they had been coming after ME.

People were taking pictures of us, even as Dad started disarming and rounding up the kidnappers who weren't unconscious. Through the haze of tears and pain, I realized that everyone had seen Mom running faster than a car with a chest wound and ripping a locked door off like it was made of cardboard. She didn't seem to care, and I was crying too hard to say anything.

Trucks screeched to a halt. “MCO! Everyone step aside,” a man shouted over a bullhorn.

I looked up to see a squad of MCO agents hopping out of the back of two armoured trucks, four light suits of power armour came from the third. Dad put himself between us and them. “There are the kidnappers. They seem human, so you'll have to talk to the RCMP about jurisdiction.”

A few cop cars came to a stop. The officers didn't seem to know what to do about the superhero and the MCO facing off against each other, so they started handcuffing the kidnappers and radioing for ambulances and backup.

“We have reports that two mutants are involved, is that them behind you?” the MCO guy in charge asked.

Dad nodded. “Yes. They were acting in self defense, you can talk with them at the station.”

“There are reports of two people killed and four more badly injured from electrical burns. I'm afraid since this was declared a mutant incident by the RCMP, you have very little say in the matter.”

“Under section 22.1, mutants can use their abilities to protect themselves and will deal with the MCO through the RCMP. If there are any questions, a judge will decide who has control of the matter. I can recite all the laws and regulations in my sleep, shall we continue?”

Mom had gotten up by now, still holding me and was ready to fight or run depending on how things went. Her left arm was shaking, she was breathing hard, and pain was written on her face. People were shouting out to us, asking her to sign their t-shirts, or to pose for a picture. Half the onlookers were shouting out the name Prairie Sun.

I saw Mom's face tighten as she saw her secret identity go up in flames. The MCO agent and Dad were still spouting regulations at each other, more police had finally arrived and they had higher ups with them. Mom held me one handed for a minute, while she reached into a secret pocket of her purse, which had somehow stayed with her through the chaos, and pulled out her MID.

“Harold, we need to get this girl to a hospital,” Mom said.

The MCO agent tried to rush us, he bounced off of Dad, but that didn't stop him from shouting. “Do not listen to her. That girl and Prairie Sun are to be questioned by the MCO and will receive any necessary care from trained specialists.”

Moms' voice was like steel. “This girl was in a car accident after a violent kidnapping attempt and was doused in chemicals, I have a slug very close to my heart. We were defending ourselves, so I am requesting as an auxiliary constable an ambulance and an RCMP/MCO escort to the hospital, until a judge can determine who has jurisdiction.”

Harold took one look at the situation and pointed at four officers and an ambulance that just pulled up. “You will escort these two to the hospital. They are not to leave until this all sorted out.” He walked over to the MCO agents, as Mom staggered with me to the ambulance. “Agent Campbell, you will pick four agents to escort these two witnesses to the hospital. Not your power armoured unit, they have done nothing to warrant them, and we don't want you scaring the other patients. They will remain in the hallway of the hospital with the RCMP escort and will only intercede if either witness tries to leave the premises. Is that understood?”

“I must object to this intrusion in MCO affairs-”

Whatever the MCO guy was going to say was cut off as I was lifted into the ambulance and then the paramedics helped Mom inside. There was the sound of shouting outside, but I didn't care, the police weren't about to throw my parents to the dogs, and if they tried Mom and Dad wouldn't stand for it.

“I'm a level 3 regenerator, my blood is a biohazard,” Mom said weakly, when the paramedic went to look her over.

The paramedic backed off and opened a box with a face mask, and some heavy duty gear. “What about her?” the second one asked pointing at me.

“Treat her as a baseline, she's perfectly safe.”

A minute or two later, the ambulance started rolling. Mom was left largely alone, after they found her wound wasn't life threatening anymore. They had me take off my clothes which I found out was coated in chemicals to deal with electrical fires, then they flushed my eyes, mouth and nose, by then we had reached the hospital where Mom walked out her head held high and I was wheeled in under a nice protective blanket.

Reporters were already there, shouting questions at Mom and I, asking if it was true that I was her daughter, if this was a hit against her or her family, and more. The RCMP escort did their best to keep the reporters away, the MCO didn't care. For my part, I hid my face and wished the nightmare would just end.

**
Edmonton International Airport, Alberta
6pm, March 1st, 2007

Kota looked around nervously, gripping her phoenix necklace, feeling exposed in a thick white sweater, black tights and a knee length black skirt. She really wasn't comfortable in the clothes but wanted to wear the outfit for Mrs. Young. Now if only they could find her.

Theresa was walking around looking for any sign of their friends. They had been told that someone would meet them when they got off the plane, but no one had shown up. And once they'd gotten out of customs, there was still no one waiting for them. Kota tried to phone Mrs. Young for the tenth time, but once again a mechanical voice said the number was unavailable. Mr. Young and Estelle just didn't answer.

She wondered if they should get a taxi and drive to the house, or maybe their headquarters. The only problem was that would use up almost all of their money. They could wait a bit longer, the Young's were superheroes after all, and were probably held up stopping a crime or something.

“KOTA!” Theresa yelled at her.

Running to her friend, looking for any sign of danger like she'd been taught in survival class, Kota skidded to a stop beside a coffee shop where her roommate was staring at a tv in shock. Not really understanding what could be wrong, she looked to see what disaster had happened, her blood turned cold.

Mrs. Young was on tv, the video was shaky and poor quality but it was obviously her. Tears came to Kota's eye when she saw the blood soaked sweater, and the pain filled purple eyes. Mrs. Young was clutching a girl who was crying and covered in some kind of foam, Fly By was behind her talking to someone. The announcer said something about an attack and a kidnapping attempt against Prairie Sun and a young teenager who early reports were saying was her daughter. The video skipped to the woman looking around at the crowd who were calling her Prairie Sun. With shaking hands, she pulled out an ID card and walked rigidly to a police officer, it was hard to hear but it was possible to make out the police officer following her orders.

Kota listened carefully until the reporter said the name of the hospital Prairie Sun was being treated at. “Come on!” she said grabbing Theresa's hand and dragging her back to their suitcases.

“What are we going to do? Are they ok?” her friend asked.

“We're going to the hospital,” she said. Her voice left no room for argument, and the nervousness she'd been feeling before was gone.

**

Mom and I were kept in the same room. Mom was actually doing better then I was, she was still having chest pains, but the bullet had been removed and the the wound was sealed and healed up. If she hadn't run after the van, tearing the muscle even more, to save me, she would have been healthy by now. I felt like crap. My skin was covered in a rash, my eyes ached, and to top it all off my sinuses and throat hurt. The chemicals in the fire extinguishers they'd used to counter my electricity wouldn't kill me, but they weren't exactly healthy either, especially after they coated me in so much of it.

I was laying in bed listening to music from my MP3, letting the eye drops and ointment they'd given me do their thing, while Mom worked on her laptop sending messages to her lawyers, clients, agent, and friends. She wasn't showing it, but the exposure and the kidnapping attempt had her in shock. I saw it in the way she moved, how she'd kept asking Dad for more information, and the moments of soft crying she tried to hide from me.

For my part, I was trying not think. Everyone knew who Mom was, it wouldn't take long for my face to be on the net and tv. They'd know all about me, and they'd put two and two together like my friends already had about Target and Prairie Sun. Even if they didn't, with my using my powers like I had, it would be obvious who I was. What would my friends say? Would I be allowed to stay at school? Did I even want to stay at school?

It was easier to ignore everything and focus on the music. I was still in pain from the kidnapping, the fight, the accident, and to top it all off the pain killers they'd given me weren't working very well. They wouldn't let me shock myself either to get a charge which would at least help me feel a little better. If my skin wasn't so tight and itchy I might have been able to fall asleep.

The door opened. I heard a sob and running feet. Opening my eyes, I saw Kota wrapping her arms around Mom, while Theresa was looking at the two of us like she was afraid we were dead or something. Dad in his civilian clothes, stood in the doorway.

“Are you ok?!” Kota asked frantically. “We were at the airport and didn't see you, then we saw the news and we came as fast as we could! Who did this? Are you ok?!”

Mom pushed the girl back a little so they could look at each other. “I'm ok now, Kota, don't worry. I'm sorry we weren't there to get you. But we're ok and we're just here overnight for observation.”

Kota took a deep breath to calm herself down. “Estelle how are you doing?”

“Been better. Talking kind of hurts,” I admitted.

She came over and gave me a gentle pat on the shoulder. “Didn't you learn not to get into cars with strangers?”

I shrugged and smiled at the little joke. Then I noticed what she was wearing. “You're wearing a skirt.”

The tomboy blushed, and crossed her arms as if to cover her clothes. “I wanted to surprise your Mom. Since she got it for me at Christmas, I thought she should see me wear it at least once. I still prefer pants.”

“You look good dear. And thank you, I'm glad you gave it try,” Mom told her.

Dad gave a little cough. “Ok, girls. The nurses are starting to growl, you've seen them and said hello, now it's time to go. You'll stay at the headquarters for tonight, its safer and the reporters can't bother us as much there.”

Theresa gave Mom and I a hug, and a few words of encouragement, while Kota gave Mom another embrace before leaving. When the door shut, I got up and sat on the side of Mom's bed.

“What are we going to do about them?” I asked with my raspy voice.

She leaned her head back, letting it thump against the mattress. “I don't know. The school isn't going to be happy when the paparazzi's take their picture. But we can't easily put them back on a plane tonight, and they've probably already had their pictures taken just coming into the room. Sending them back to school tomorrow is already too late. And I think it could be worse for Kota to send her packing, than to keep her here for a few days while we weather the storm.”

“What about us?”

“You're father and I are going to hold a press conference tomorrow. We're also upgrading security at the house and getting a security team.”

“Ok, what about me? Do I go to the press conference? Will I be talking to reporters? What will they say about me and my... changes?” I asked.

She wrapped the blanket around her hand to pat my arm. “You are not talking to anyone or being put in the spotlight. They will get pictures of you, we can't stop that, and they will try to talk to you, but you are to not say anything or do anything that could be used against you. For now you are going back to school on Monday as planned, with a small team of body guards. After you finish the term, you will disappear, we'll say it's for your own safety. Then you'll be going to Whateley as a boy who is under the protection of Fly By and Prairie Sun, just like Theresa and the others we've helped. We'll start working on the paperwork next week so there aren't any problems when we need it.”

I felt my stomach drop. I knew they were coming up with a plan to slip me into the school without letting anyone know I used to be a girl, and I thought we'd do something like making me a nephew to deal with friends not in the know. But this... this was like they were disowning me. I was already trying to deal with coming up with a new first name, now I wasn't even going to have my last name.

Tears started to fall. “I don't want to just be some kid. I... I want to be yours!”

“I know. I know you do honey,” Mom cried with me, still holding my arm through the damn blanket. “But this is the best we can do to keep you safe.”

I hugged her. I didn't care that her skin was cold and hard, or that her hair felt like it was cutting me. Her breath was warm, and her tears were hot against my skin. I needed to hug my Mom. I deserved to hug her like so many other kids had. I shouldn't have to kiss her with my stuffed animals, or only give her a quick hug when we were both bundled up.

It wasn't fair and I was through with playing nice.

“I'm not hiding,” I said.

“What?”

It was my turn to push her back and look her in the eye. “I don't care what they say. I'm going to be your child when I go to Whateley and I don't care what people think.”

“Estelle, you're upset and not thinking clearly. Th-”

“You can have me at the news conference I won't say anything, but I'm going to be there. They'll see me soon enough anyways. And you will not throw me away once I change too much. If you try I'll talk to any reporter who will listen and tell them everything. You can either help control the message that comes out or watch me make a lot of mistakes,” I told her.

She glared at me. “No.”

Glaring right back, I laid down the facts. “Then you'd better lock me in my room with no computer, telephone or paper until I die. I'm your daughter, and soon I'm going to be your son, you can't get rid of me!”

We stared at each other in a battle of wills. Normally I'd have given up, but the threat of losing everything filled my spine with iron. They were not going to abandon me. I wouldn't let them. I couldn't hug them, or feel them properly, but there was no way they were going to take what little normality I had away from me.

She blinked. “You'll be at the news conference. But you are not to talk to any reporters about anything, or talk about your changes to anyone. We've got a few months to work things out, you WILL NOT jump the gun.”

“Ok.”

Mom wrapped me up in her blanket to give me a hug, even placing a piece of the fabric against my cheek to give me a kiss that wouldn't hurt. I let her tuck me into bed, and went back to listening to my music, blanking out the thoughts running through my head.

Much later, when Mom thought I was asleep, I heard her get out of bed and felt her leaning over me. Keeping my eyes shut, I wondered what she was doing. To my surprise, I heard her start sobbing, tears fell on my pillow and hair.

I opened my eyes, just able to make out her face which was twisted with grief in the darkness. I sat up and wrapped part of my blanket around her shoulders and breasts, hugging her to me I cried with her.

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Comments

wow, poor kid

as if becoming a boy wasnt hard enough ...

DogSig.png

I've been nice to her!

Domoviye's picture

She hasn't had a nervous breakdown, attempted suicide, killed her best friend, died, or anything. She should be happy. :-)

Wow!

I'm sad and have ears in my eyes, but if she doesn't get hurt, she doesn't get that triumphant moment where she comes out on top. You just have to have faith that the author isn't a complete asshole and things are gonna be ok in the end.

nomad

LOL

Domoviye's picture

Um, I'm a complete asshole to my characters. I make them earn their happy ending, and if they don't I've been known to kill characters in the final chapter.
Fortunately for Estelle this is a Whateley story so she should be able to make it to the school before I take the gloves off.
Oh wait, that isn't strictly true, I did kill a mutant teenage mom before she got to go to school, and she was one of the MC's.
Well there was that other guy who made it to Whateley, but he nearly killed himself first.
There's a girl, wait no she's being experimented on without anesthetics.
A boy made it to Whateley. After being turned into a girl and getting abused and tormented for months and having an emotional collapse.
I have a... oh right, she finds out something has replaced her and her family thinks she's a vicious insane attacker.
I let a young kid make it to Whateley... after being convicted as a supervillian, and murdering two people.
A psychic girl makes it, after causing a massacre in a city that nearly kills her, and she's driven temporarily insane from eldritch abominations.
Um, uh...
Damn, Estelle is screwed.

LOL

Have no way to know what will happen next, that's good and bad.

Good that we like it, bad as we don't know what's going to happen next.

I've been told my writing

Domoviye's picture

I've been told my writing style involves flipping the table when I get bored and seeing what comes out. With some stories that is very true, but with most of my Whateley stories I do have a destination in mind, and I'm getting better at it. But I still do my best to keep things a surprise, hence having Estelle and her family outed, which most people wouldn't expect in a story like this.

Social scrutiny

Tas's picture

I'll tell you right now, I don't like the media. Most of them will do anything for a better rating, including some of the nasty questions that are bound to be asked at this press conference.

-Tas

Good story

Jamie Lee's picture

This story is so well written I can feel the pain the characters are experiencing.

We don't go through changes as these characters do, but we do experience changes. Some changes are small, others are large. And each change bring it's own measure of uncertainty and fear. Uncertainty and fear brought on by the unknown. Where is the Doctor when you need him?

No where is it written that the hero or those we come to love in a story get off Scott free at any time during the story. Shoot, even John Wayne was killed off in two movies. Talk about a shock to Wayne fans. So why should it be different for these stories?

Killing off a loved character in a story, if written well, can produce a more dramatic, more intense story. It can allow the author to then go in several directions which can further enhance the story.

Very few like to see a main character of a story get the ax. But neither will readers enduring a story which only goes in one direction.

Others have feelings too.

This was a great part

It was well told, and displayed some real character growth.

Thanks everyone

Domoviye's picture

I really appreciate the comments, and so does NeoMagus the writer who came up with Kota.
I really don't like the media either, I'm not sure how bad I'll make them, but they'll show up a little during the summer.
I hope you enjoy the insanity of the next chapters.
Enjoy.

This chapter is and was

This chapter is and was intense while reading it.
I read all the other comments, especially the ones you mentioned about killing off characters or whatever, to possibly change the flow of the story.
IF you decide to do in Estelle, remember there is always the shower scene used in the TV Series "DALLAS".

Thanks.

Domoviye's picture

I had to do a google search for that one. I knew about the incident but didn't know the details, since I think I was 5 when this took place.
Let's just make one thing clear, if someone dies it takes an act of intense magic to do so and the act of achieving it is at least as bad as just leaving the person dead.
The only time I had a person come back to life was in a horror story set in virtual reality where the main character killed herself like four times because she knew she'd come back whether she wanted to or not.
Dead is Dead.