Making My Own Worlds

Finally, I found the time to write the scene I’ve had in my head for about eight years. It all started with a dream, a very strange one, involving a crazy uncle attacking my apartment and a guy playing the violin for me in the middle of the street outside my apartment. The characters have changed, and the more ridiculous elements of the dream have been removed, but it’s found it’s home in my novel. Keep in mind, this is a work in progress. I know the writing is terrible, but it’s the story that counts. After all, it’s just a first draft!

Enjoy, an excerpt from Chapter 5 of my 3rd novel project, Title-In-Progress:

By eight-thirty Ana had made it home. She barely noticed Beau’s attentions as she entered her apartment, walked straight down the hall, dumped her purse and jacket on the couch, then went to her computer sitting on her desk and turned it on.

While she waited for it to boot up, she went to the window, and looked out at the darkened street. It was October, and finally starting to get cold.

As she whipped her pale blond hair into a messy bun up on the top of her head, she looked out the window and nearly jumped back away from it. On the sidewalk across the street from her apartment stood the man she had taken in from the street a few days ago. She hadn’t seen him since he tried to strangle her, but he was definitely staring up at her window right then.

Slowly, Ana moved to her desk and closed the lid of her laptop. She then moved back through her apartment and shut off all the lights. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she went into her bedroom and tried to see him out her bedroom window. Unfortunately, he was too far in front of the building for her to see.

She went back into the living room, and stood in the corner by the window, looking down at him, but he wasn’t there anymore.

Maybe I imagined it. Or maybe I’m just going crazy… she thought.

Just then, there was a knock on the door. Frowning, Ana went to answer it. When she peered through the peep hole, her frown deepened. There was a young man on the other side of the door, with dirty blonde dreadlocks, but he appeared to be dressed very well, in a crisp blue and red striped button-up shirt. At the moment, Ana was just glad it wasn’t the man in the trench coat.

The knock sounded again, more urgently this time. For a moment, Ana panicked. She couldn’t open the door with all the lights off, because it would obviously be weird if she was perceived to have just been sitting in her apartment alone in the dark. But turning on the light would let her previous guest know she was inside. On the other hand, as she’d only just gotten in, there was a good chance that this person knew she was inside already, and not answering the door would be incredibly rude. Especially if it was one of her neighbors. It had to be one of them. No one else could get inside the building.

The fact that he was dressed in a nice suit may have swayed her a little.

“All right! I’m coming!” she shouted at the door. Quickly, she flicked on the hallway light, and walked the few extra steps to the door.
Upon pulling the door open just enough that she could peer around it without appearing insanely paranoid, she asked, “Can I help you?”

He smiled before saying anything, which irked her a little. “Yeah, I, uh, just moved in upstairs,” he said, reaching up to scratch his neck, as if he was making a nervous gesture. Ana thought he was shy.

“Anyway, I haven’t had time to go up the shop yet, and I was wondering if you had any, um, pepper? That I could borrow?” His shoulders raised hopefully.

Ana started at him, then started to laugh. “Um, yeah, sure, come on in.”

Before she’d opened the door another centimeter, Ana heard a crash and a splintering of wood as she fell backwards onto the hall rug. A hand was around her throat and she realized she was choking for the second time in less than a week.

Desperately, she clawed at the hands as they tightened around her throat, her lungs screaming for oxygen. Her vision blurred as tears of frustration, anger, and fear welled in her eyes. Her hands were getting slack, and then she cringed inwardly as she felt matted hair brush her face and the man face of the man who was strangling her came closer to her neck.

As quickly as it had started, Ana was released. The weight above her was lifted, and her vision because spotty as air rushed back into her lungs. She scrambled further into her apartment, her eyes bulging in shock at the carnage of her front door around her. Grasping her throat, she gulped air as her vision came back into focus, and she looked up.
Two large shapes blurred together in front of her, sometimes out in the hall, and sometimes in her flat’s hallway. When she could see clearly, she noticed they had faces. One of them was wearing a leather trench coat.

“Shite,” she rasped, and hand on her chest to check her heart beat.
Ana let out a yelp as the Leather Jacket tore off the leg of the wooden table in the hall outside her apartment and the small flower pot sitting on top crashed to the floor. In horror, she watched as Leather Trenchcoat plunged the broken table led into Dreadlocks’s heart. Dreadlocks froze for an instant, and then exploded in a cloud of ash.
“What the BLOODY hell was that?” Ana screeched. Then she stopped, clamping a hand over her mouth and dragging Leather Jacket back into her apartment as she heard a door in the hallway open. Leather Coat stumbled a bit over the broken splinters and chunks of wood that used to be her door.

“Let’s move to a room a bit less full of a broken door, shall we?” Leather Coat suggested, extending his arm for Ana to use as leverage.

She refused and pulled herself up on her own, with a little help from the nearest wall. A wooden piece of door rolled off her leg as she stood to clatter to the floor with a soft thud against the carpet.
Using the wall for support, Ana pointed at the mess of her door that extended out into the hall and said, “There was a man there.”

“Yes, there was,” Leather Coat replied, looking at her like he was afraid she might fall or pass out at any moment. He held out his arms, ready to catch her, but Ana kept herself glued to the wall.

“And now he’s gone. He turned into ash,” Ana said slowly, meeting Leather Coat’s eyes, and willing herself to understand what she’d just seen. Then she frowned on the exasperated look on his face as he watched her, like she was a child who couldn’t understand something he thought was so simple.

“Yes. Sort of. Now can you please come in here so I can clean you up?” Leather Coat pleaded, gesturing towards the bathroom beside him.

“What do you mean ‘sort of’?” Ana asked raising an eyebrow at him.

“Look, it’s difficult to explain… let’s just get you cleaned up -”

“And you! Who the bloody hell are you? You fucking strangled me last time you were here, after I’d brought you in against all my better judgement. And now you want to help me?” Ana’s voice had reached a dangerous level, and Leather Coat’s eyes bugged a bit.

They both froze when they heard a voice in the hall. “Everything all right, love?” Ana’s elderly neighbor asked. Ana’s eyes widened in alarm as she realized he was staring at the carnage.

Pushing past Leather Coat, she went to Mr. Henry. “Um, yes, everything’s fine. Go back to Mrs. Henry now,” she said, gently pushing him back towards the stairs and his apartment on the bottom floor.
Attempting to stomp back into her apartment past Leather Coat, she slipped on a slanted piece of wood, and cursed herself for letting him catch her. With a small amount of force, he guided her into the bathroom, and sat her on the edge of the bathtub.

Leather Coat started rummaging through her cupboards, and Ana stared at him with narrowed eyes.

“You still haven’t told me who you are.”

Without turning to face her, he said, “Jack. They call me Jack.” He finally turned around and handed her a dampened wash cloth.

Snatching it from him, Ana started dabbing at the cuts on her hands and arms, hissing when the warm water stung her open wounds. “No last name, then?” she asked, without meeting his eyes. She still sounded pissed.

“Not right now. Here, let me help you,” he said, reaching for the washcloth. Ana couldn’t see the cuts on her face, but the bright red blood dripping out of them caught his attention.

Yanking the cloth out of reach, Ana scowled at him. “Is this how you normally help people? Busting down their doors, letting them get strangled… twice?” she said with moth joviality.

“In my defense, I didn’t bust down your door, he did. And no, not usually. It’s been a bit of an odd week,” Jack replied.

Quicker than she could track, Jack had the cloth back in his hand, and he crouched in front of her, dabbing softly at the cuts on her face. Ana kept very still, and didn’t take her eyes off him. Ready to kick him where it counted if he so much as looked like he was going to strangle her again.

When Jack moved away to rinse the cloth in the sink, she allowed herself to ask, “Are you hurt?”

“No,” Jack said, a little too quickly. Ana suspected he was lying, but as he’d tried to choke her to death last time she’d seen him, she didn’t much care.

Returning to his crouching position, Jack finished up cleaning her facial wounds. Ana crossed her arms in front of him.

“You… why did she go after you,” Jack mumbled to himself, rising again to rinse the cloth.

“She? Dreadlocks was definitely a man,” Ana protested, slightly confused.

“Should have been after me…” Jack continued, still turned away from Ana.

“After you?”

“Oh yes! She must know you… What did you do for me?” Jack muttered, the last part loud enough for Ana to know he was actually speaking to her.

“I made the mistake of taking you into my apartment. Someone dropped you on the side of the street. I thought you were dead!” Ana explained, confused as to why he didn’t know that already.

“So she meant to use you to get to me… Pity. She didn’t know I have no idea who you are…”

“What the bleeding hell are you talking about?” Ana asked angrily, gripping the sides of the bathtub, as she felt like she might fall at any moment.

“What’s your name?”
“Ana.”

“Last name?”

“You didn’t give me yours, so I’m not inclined to share mine,” Ana said, attempting to cross her arms again, wobbled, then gripped the bathtub again.

“Fair enough. Look, it’s not safe here. We’ve got to get you somewhere else.”

Anger steadied her. Ana vaulted off the edge of the bathtub and found herself inches from Jack’s face.

“No. I am not leaving here, until you tell me what’s going on,” she said dangerously. Jack actually took a step back. “And it has to make sense,” she added.

Jack threw up his hands. “Well, in that case, I may as well just leave now. Good luck, I hope you can get a new door,” he said, waving as he headed through the bathroom door.

Following him, Ana’s jaw dropped as she watched him make a left and walk further into her apartment.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she shouted at him, finding that he was already halfway across the living room. Beau was sitting on his dog bed alternately growling and barking his brains out at Jack.
He froze, his back to her.

“Front door’s that way,” Ana said, shoving a thumb over her shoulder, even though he wasn’t looking at her, “Well, it was.”

Grinning, Jack twisted around to face her. “This way’s quicker for me.” His hand was on the balcony door before Ana could say another word.

“Wait!” she called, as he opened the door, and the sounds of the London streets reached her ears. Ana panicked, Is he going to jump off my balcony?

Again, Jack turned back to face her, and raised an eyebrow, as if he was bored and had somewhere much more stimulating to be.

Ana walked slowly into the living room, and Jack waited, his skepticism melting away from his face.

“What are you? Or, if you can’t tell me that, tell me why that man back there exploded into ash.” Ana stopped, her hands resting on the arm of her sofa, facing the balcony door.

“He was a vampire.”

Ana’s eyebrows shot up so fast Jack actually laughed at her.

“Please tell me you’re joking. No, you must be.”

Jack swung around and shut the balcony door behind him, a smile still on his face.

“Come on, you know it. Haven’t you ever heard that vampires explode into ash when -”

“- you shove a wooden stake into their hearts,” Ana finished for him.

“So you know the lore?”

“Nope. Watched Buffy.”

Jack tilted his head and nodded. “Yeah, well, they got some things wrong.”

“What?” Ana said, still under the impression that Jack was joking.

“I should know. I’m one too.”

“One what?”

“A vampire.”

“What?”

“You say that word a lot.”

“Are you actually trying to tell me that you’re a vampire? And that the man in the hall that you just killed with a table leg is – was a vampire as well?” Ana said, shaking her head and narrowing her eyes at Jack.

“Sounds like it.”

Ana had no idea why she did what she did, but she narrowed her eyes further and said, “Prove it.”

No sooner had the words left her than she found she was standing, Jack behind her, two feet away from where she’d been a second before. One of his hants was on the left side of her throat, one on her stomach. Ana felt two pinpricks of pressure at her neck that could only be two very sharp teeth. So he’s going to kill me anyway, was the only thought that went through her mind.

Slowly, he turned her to face him, and Ana looked into his eyes, which had turned blood red around the pupil.

A moment later, clear blue eyes looked at her from across the room, next to the balcony door.

All Ana could say was a small, “Oh.”

— Ok, that’s it for now. Leave a comment if you like! Also, take a look at the cover I made, if you’ve got time.