0.1
During the summer, when the factories on the edge of town were closed, I took off to the outskirts of the city, saying to my parents that I was going to study out of town.
Every year I spent my time here by exploring and did everything like a normal kid would do at her house. Sleeping, eating, writing, working, practicing, but I developed a rather new hobby of peeping through the large warehouse doors to have a look at foreign imports... no one ever came while I was here. Security wasn't a big deal either; it only provided another element of excitement in my rather bland life.
The warehouses usually held furniture imports from Denmark and England, for as long as I could remember. Over the years, the barrier the managers called 'top security' became nothing but a thin one me. However, this last summer, all but the last door struck me as a real challenge. Its access code format was completely different from all the others I've ever worked with before, and what it held was a puzzle of itself. A metal crate with no other lock I've ever seen before. It's presence offset me for days, which soon stretched into weeks. Summer was almost over.
However, the long wait and frustration came to an end, in the form of a being known as Elm Treason.
0.2
The bleach blond lupe could not contain a whine of denial in the dark. The sun had long set and she was working by fluorescent lamp light; her violin and math textbooks neglected on the manager's desk. This was the very first time a vault/lock had manged to eluded her in a long time. She had tried everything known to her; even gave it good kick or two, but to no avail.
To be blunt, she had never even seen a lock such as this one. It's properties were complex and metal sides thick; sound proof. The long list of numbers of possible success ran around her head in circles, but she couldn't come to a definite conclusion. She was so immersed on her theories that she didn't hear the steady hum of her lamp, the crickets, or the echos of faint footsteps as a moonlit shadow made itself known in the warehouse.
Crouching on the cool cement floor, Alej muttered incoherent formulas past her lips while stopping now and then, furiously jotting down endless mathematical equations and sequences. To be more descriptive, it wasn't just one slip of scrap paper anymore. By now it had solidly become a stack of sheets all marked and scarred by a dull pencil.
Needless to say, Alejain did not take notice of her surroundings, while shut off in her closed world. She did not see or hear the figure (how cliche) step closer to her from the shadows of nearby frigates. It was all too late as a low 'hmph' in the back of a male's throat that dragged Alejain from whatever realm she was in. Her eyes, in a drooped comatose and empty stare, now snapped wide open to look up at the maker of her future.
Damascus Elm Treason.
0.3
He wasn't normal by any of her standards. That was the first thought that entered Alejain's numb mind, as she tilted her head to assess the figure in front of her. His skin and fur were dark- which was unlike anyone Alejain had ever met in her city. The dark lupe was clad in what seemed like a militants attire, but entirely black, a long brilliant red scarf shifted and fluttered lightly as he moved towards her slowly. His ears were alert and his posture gave him a stiff but sharp edgy appearance.
Her pale eyes met a steely gaze of vermilion, which narrowed slightly as they spotted the box that she kept in her hands. At this, Alejain shuddered inwardly from the frigid atmosphere he gave off.
Ms. if you please, the box he finally spoke in a surprisingly polite and smooth tone as he motioned towards the item in her hands.
However, Alejain was unable to respond correctly, and she panicked. This was the first time she had met anybody face to face in the warehouse, and this was definitely the first time she'd ever been confronted by this
type of person.
Alejain suddenly sprung away quickly while knocking down her pile of sheets and with fear evident in her motion. Scrambling and pulling herself up against the wall of the wall, the girl felt trapped and had forgotten everything else; why she was here, her school work, the metal box.
It was the figure in front of her which made every fiber of her being fear him. What exactly about him that made her so scared, she did not know, but she felt it was ridiculous. All he had done was sneak up on her and merely say a few words.
Meanwhile the figure across from her seemed unfazed and closed the distance that was made while his gaze bore into her frightened eyes. At that moment, something broke- snapped in Alejain. In an instant her eyes were snapped shut and she herself recoiled while slashing instinctively in front of her and delivered an unconscious assault on the stranger.
Her first blow had struck the red-eyed lupe as a surprise due to his serious miscalculation of the girl's abilities. As a result, he was knocked off balance.
The next hit barely gave enough time for the stranger to compose himself, who could only block and take the blow.
The last one, by then, the male decided enough was enough, as he caught her flying leg and decisively shoved her forcefully to cause her slide to skid a few feet back.
As he watched her breath raggedly in shock, the dark lupe blinked slowly. She was fast. Too fast.
0.4
Who..the heck are you and what did you do? Aljeain raged in a choked whisper. Her hands were shaking- even her tail was like a leaf in the wind. Her heart was still pounding against her chest, and her senses felt sharpened.
The cricket chirps orchestrated themselves to a loud screeching
noise. The dull florescent light now stung at the corner of her blurred vision as the nauseating smell of leather began to override her perceptions. Her back slackened as her figure fell forward. It was her head- there were too many things going on in her
head.
Reality is a traitor
