8001st post but never mind.
Ok, so this is where I'm at with the current WiP. Provisionally titled Locke & Co.
This is 25k in, so I'm aware you're missing a lot of context. Max is a fairly new POV character and he's on Team Evil. This scene is not on Earth, and two other characters have been there before so the tall woman and fat man are known to the reader.
The wardens are teens who were human but now aren't.
~
Old fashioned Tudor houses lined the cobbled street, making the place look like it'd been lifted out of a museum. Max scratched his chin and folded his arms. Wherever they were, it was even quieter and even more boring than Cricket St. Nicholas. Chickens clucked and scattered, flapping in a panic, as a small human-looking child ran past and disappeared around a corner.
"You sure Jacob got the right place?" he asked. "Oi. Kid?"
Two of the wardens, the girl and oldest boy, had disappeared into an inn to question the patrons, while the youngest lad lingered outside with Max. The boy was a scruffy-looking little sod – skinny with hair so blond it was almost white. His pale eyelashes clashed oddly with his black eyes. Max found him creepy.
"I said, you sure Jacob got the right place? There's nobody here. Boy? I'm talking to you!"
The warden moved away from the pub's door. "Course he got the right place," he said. "Don't call me Boy."
Max snorted to let the little brat know he'd call him what he liked. "What were you, nine?"
"Ten."
"Ten!" Max said, raising his hands in mock surprise. "Blimey, sorry, big man. Ten years old. Bugger me backwards." He fetched a kick at a chicken which came too close to his boots, and then went to the door to peer inside. The wardens knelt over a fat man on the ground, silently plunging bloodied knives into him over and over again. Muttering curses, Max pushed the boy aside and went in.
"All right, all right, I think he's dead already. Well done."
The room was large and empty but for bloodied rushes on the floor. The wardens looked up from the corpse, their faces splattered red.
"They were here," the girl said.
"Yeah? And now they're not?" Max rolled his eyes. "I could've told you that. Come on, kids, I think we've murdered enough locals for one day."
He ushered them out of the inn, feeling far too much like their minder, and walked back out into the street. He waited while the girl felt for a crack in reality's seam so she could open a door.
Doors opened by wardens were pretty rubbish, in Max's opinion. They didn't stay open for long enough and he had a bad feeling that one day one'd snap shut while he was only half-way through and he'd end up with his arse in another dimension. That's why old Jacob wanted the key, of course. The doors would stay open, unless closed by the key, and it'd be a lot less of a pain for everyone. Well, everyone interested in cross-dimensional travel. Which wasn't exactly everyone – humans, rubbish as they were, tended to die either passing through the door or not long after. Some demons were a bit crap in certain dimensions too. But, that was their lookout.
"Come on, come on." He hurried the girl and two boys through the door.
He'd just taken a step when there was a high-pitched scream from the direction of the inn. No sooner had he formed the thought, someone's found the body, had something snatched at his ankle and pulled. Instinctively, he grabbed hold of the nearest thing – the blond boy's hood – before he was hurled backwards. The boy fell back, the door slammed shut, and Max hit the ground. He scrabbled at the cobbles with his fingertips as something dragged him along the street.
To his credit, the boy ran after him though he was too slow. Max yelled as he was lifted off the ground and suddenly, he was pulled through the inn's doorway and dangling upside down in front of a very tall, very angry looking woman. The room seemed to be full of tree now, and when he looked, he saw a root grasping his ankle. Blood rushed to his head and his t-shirt rucked up around his neck. He didn't struggle, but he spat the filthiest curse he could come up with.
The boy appeared in the door and the roots snaked towards him, grabbing him just as he turned to flee. Max waited, hanging like a worm on a fishing hook.
"You killed my male," the woman said. She sounded calmer than she looked, though her voice was deep and malevolent.
"I didn't," Max said. He curled up to try to free his ankle but the root held firm. When he flopped back down he noticed the man's corpse amidst a tangle of branches and thin, tendril-like roots pushing into the body. He screwed up his nose.
"Then, the boy," she said, pointing a finger at the warden.
"Nope. He was with me." He made an attempt to free his leg again. "Look, you're gonna have to let me down before I pass out here."
His eyes widened as the root loosened around his ankle and before he could cry, "Wait!" he fell and hit his head on the floor. He groaned and sat up, probing his skull tentatively for damage. Roots entangled the boy in the doorway or he might've tried to make his getaway. Instead, he pushed himself to his feet and faced the woman. She was at least three heads taller than he was and he didn't think he could take her in a fight.
He smiled. "There's been a bit of a misunderstanding. Your old man's dead, and I'm sorry for that, really I am, but it's got nothing to do with me and the boy here."
~
That's all she wrote.
Ok, so this is where I'm at with the current WiP. Provisionally titled Locke & Co.
This is 25k in, so I'm aware you're missing a lot of context. Max is a fairly new POV character and he's on Team Evil. This scene is not on Earth, and two other characters have been there before so the tall woman and fat man are known to the reader.
The wardens are teens who were human but now aren't.
~
Old fashioned Tudor houses lined the cobbled street, making the place look like it'd been lifted out of a museum. Max scratched his chin and folded his arms. Wherever they were, it was even quieter and even more boring than Cricket St. Nicholas. Chickens clucked and scattered, flapping in a panic, as a small human-looking child ran past and disappeared around a corner.
"You sure Jacob got the right place?" he asked. "Oi. Kid?"
Two of the wardens, the girl and oldest boy, had disappeared into an inn to question the patrons, while the youngest lad lingered outside with Max. The boy was a scruffy-looking little sod – skinny with hair so blond it was almost white. His pale eyelashes clashed oddly with his black eyes. Max found him creepy.
"I said, you sure Jacob got the right place? There's nobody here. Boy? I'm talking to you!"
The warden moved away from the pub's door. "Course he got the right place," he said. "Don't call me Boy."
Max snorted to let the little brat know he'd call him what he liked. "What were you, nine?"
"Ten."
"Ten!" Max said, raising his hands in mock surprise. "Blimey, sorry, big man. Ten years old. Bugger me backwards." He fetched a kick at a chicken which came too close to his boots, and then went to the door to peer inside. The wardens knelt over a fat man on the ground, silently plunging bloodied knives into him over and over again. Muttering curses, Max pushed the boy aside and went in.
"All right, all right, I think he's dead already. Well done."
The room was large and empty but for bloodied rushes on the floor. The wardens looked up from the corpse, their faces splattered red.
"They were here," the girl said.
"Yeah? And now they're not?" Max rolled his eyes. "I could've told you that. Come on, kids, I think we've murdered enough locals for one day."
He ushered them out of the inn, feeling far too much like their minder, and walked back out into the street. He waited while the girl felt for a crack in reality's seam so she could open a door.
Doors opened by wardens were pretty rubbish, in Max's opinion. They didn't stay open for long enough and he had a bad feeling that one day one'd snap shut while he was only half-way through and he'd end up with his arse in another dimension. That's why old Jacob wanted the key, of course. The doors would stay open, unless closed by the key, and it'd be a lot less of a pain for everyone. Well, everyone interested in cross-dimensional travel. Which wasn't exactly everyone – humans, rubbish as they were, tended to die either passing through the door or not long after. Some demons were a bit crap in certain dimensions too. But, that was their lookout.
"Come on, come on." He hurried the girl and two boys through the door.
He'd just taken a step when there was a high-pitched scream from the direction of the inn. No sooner had he formed the thought, someone's found the body, had something snatched at his ankle and pulled. Instinctively, he grabbed hold of the nearest thing – the blond boy's hood – before he was hurled backwards. The boy fell back, the door slammed shut, and Max hit the ground. He scrabbled at the cobbles with his fingertips as something dragged him along the street.
To his credit, the boy ran after him though he was too slow. Max yelled as he was lifted off the ground and suddenly, he was pulled through the inn's doorway and dangling upside down in front of a very tall, very angry looking woman. The room seemed to be full of tree now, and when he looked, he saw a root grasping his ankle. Blood rushed to his head and his t-shirt rucked up around his neck. He didn't struggle, but he spat the filthiest curse he could come up with.
The boy appeared in the door and the roots snaked towards him, grabbing him just as he turned to flee. Max waited, hanging like a worm on a fishing hook.
"You killed my male," the woman said. She sounded calmer than she looked, though her voice was deep and malevolent.
"I didn't," Max said. He curled up to try to free his ankle but the root held firm. When he flopped back down he noticed the man's corpse amidst a tangle of branches and thin, tendril-like roots pushing into the body. He screwed up his nose.
"Then, the boy," she said, pointing a finger at the warden.
"Nope. He was with me." He made an attempt to free his leg again. "Look, you're gonna have to let me down before I pass out here."
His eyes widened as the root loosened around his ankle and before he could cry, "Wait!" he fell and hit his head on the floor. He groaned and sat up, probing his skull tentatively for damage. Roots entangled the boy in the doorway or he might've tried to make his getaway. Instead, he pushed himself to his feet and faced the woman. She was at least three heads taller than he was and he didn't think he could take her in a fight.
He smiled. "There's been a bit of a misunderstanding. Your old man's dead, and I'm sorry for that, really I am, but it's got nothing to do with me and the boy here."
~
That's all she wrote.
