RealmWalkers (working title)
an excerpt

Prologue and a few snippets...

PROLOGUE:

Cold icy grey mist filled her vision. Swirls of murky black rolled and tumbled through the grey. She didn’t feel any ground beneath her feet…in fact, she really couldn’t feel anything at all…except that icy cold.
Perhaps she was moving? The mist appeared to be swirling away from the center of her vision as if she were being propelled forward. No sensation of wind. No feeling of being pushed. Nothing to confirm that she was really moving at all. There was just the visual impression of color flowing away from the center…past her. Grey and black wisps of softly swirling icy cold mist. Strange, to have no tactile references at all.
Dread slammed into her.
Nothing seemed to change in her vision. Nothing she could perceive, only the now drenched presence of pure dread hanging off here every moment. Clinging like oil on those little paper funnels. Surrounded by grey mist, black swirling away from the center of her vision. More mist. More cold. More dread.
She turned her head to the left and her vision didn’t change. There were no edges. To her right, exactly the same. She felt mist closing in on her as she realized there was no left. No right. No up. No down. Only forward. The oily chill of dread sunk into her very core as suddenly she actually FELT the lurch of motion propelling her forward. Forward. Ever forward. Faster forward. FASTER forward and picking up speed. Nausea wrenched through her gut as her stomach seemed to take leave of her body through her toes. Faster. Nausea. Faster. Dread. Faster.
FEAR. It wrapped around her like a wet blanket and soaked into her soul. Caressing her with its frigid fingers. Entwining into her very core. Tighten its grip as she sped forward. She had to stop this. She had to stop going forward. She had to gain control. Closing her eyes she could still see the grey mist. Still she sped forward toward something that curdled her very blood. Nausea fell away as sheer terror gained a chokehold on her very thoughts. Still she sped forward.
Eyes.
She knew she’d never be able to escape from them. She’d never forget them. Two brilliant pulsing blood red eyes boring into her very soul. Delving scarlet orbs that consume as though no amount of sustenance will ever satisfy. Mist scattered. Red light washed over her leaving darkness to fill her vision almost completely. Darkness punctured by two excruciating points of crimson drilling into her.
Her forward movement halted. Whatever support may have been beneath her gave way. Plunging straight down so fast she couldn’t manage to breathe. Audible wind rushed past her. The sensation of presence. Two brilliant crimson beams of light illuminating her as she falls.
“I. See. You.”
The air resonates with the deep tones. Her mind collapses upon itself in fear. Oblivion crashes in. She screams, and utter silence pours from her throat.
__________________________
(snippet excerpts)

Dani’s head felt fuzzy, on the inside. The orange text in the lower left corner of her vision scrolls upward, occasionally punctuated by text of bright green. She tries to glance over to read it as the image of the great winged beast seems to pulse. Or is that the border of her vision pulsing with red? Did she just pull agro? Oh not now…what percent is he at…a sharp noise interrupts her thoughts.
She blinks.
White ceiling, stucco. Or it should be, if her head wasn’t buried underneath at least one of her fuzzy fleece blankets. Ugh. That fuzzy head feeling…the one on the inside returns in force. She works an arm up and tosses aside the blanket on her head.
Her alarm buzzes in the background.
One hand strays to her left ear…no headset…sigh…at least she managed to not face plant into her keyboard again. This time she actually took her headset off as well. That’s a good thing. With effort, she swings one sweatpant clad leg over the edge of her bed. Her head swims as she sits up.
“UGH. I HAVE to stop doing Raids after midnight.” She flops back down. “Blech, I need caffeine.”
____________________________

Jayce sat bolt upright on the sofa, vapidly staring at Mitch. Sheer horror exploded across his face. The events flooded back at him. It was like something inside him broke, and he really couldn't explain it. He just started to shake. A sob escaped his lips. Mitch stood up from the chair and walked over to the sofa he had been lying on.
"J...its a lot. We're not clueless, and we've got most of it covered right now. Ray's even tracking this woman down. Right now, you need to get a handle on what has happened. The crew is here to help with that."
Mitch handed him a glass which he took instinctively. The glass was warm to the touch. Mechanically, he lifted it to his lips. The smell assaulted him long before he would have taken a sip.
Blood. Reasonably fresh.
He tipped his head and looked into the contents, then looked back at Mitch.
"What the hell is going on Mitch. I feel like Alice down the rabbit hole."
Mitch smirked, and a grin spread across his face.
"Well J, here's what we know..."
___________________________________

"How much do you remember?" The voice wasn't demanding, only inquisitive.
"No clue...better question. Who are you?"
The guy sat down next to him, hard. A look of serious concern on his face. "You really remember nothing?"
"I never said that. This is my office, and I know my name. However, I don't know yours, nor how you got in my office." As he found himself studied, Steven studied in return.
The gentleman was about his height, a solid 5'9" maybe 5'10". Dishwater blond hair graced his shoulders, framing a softish face sporting a beard. They guy was young, maybe in his early thirties. He was dressed casually, black Dockers and a dark burgundy polo shirt. Cowboy boots. He was wearing black cowboy boots. Steven almost laughed. Then he met the guys eyes. Cold, yet somehow very concerned. His eyes made him seem older, or perhaps a touch unstable...
"Carter."
____________________________

Reluctantly, Kris pushed away from his computer. His screen shifted from the colorful scene of battle to that of a single short character standing staring out at him. There was a list of names, with locations under each, down the right hand side of the image. After a moments pause, he clicked on the "back" button to bring up the login screen.
"I gotta go, parents will kill me if I don't..." he sighed into the headset microphone.
"kk. Night dude."
"ooOOO. Parent Aggro."
"Cya tommorow"

_______________________

Her eyes strayed heavenward; as she thought about the star charts she had plotted only a couple days ago. The upcoming conjunction retrograde was something she was not looking forward to. Things always got wacky during a retrograde, and having an entire sector in retrograde definitely was going to make the fine control of events something to work at. She would have to remember to reset and recharge her wards, soon.
As she casually took the next exit ramp into downtown DC, Monica glanced in her rearview mirror to check her makeup. Flawless as usual. Not too much. Her dress was the perfect shade of power blue (a shade the Senator seemed to favor in dealings with other business figures.) Basic earrings, only a simple gold chain necklace, and her charms bracelet safely hidden up above the cuff of her blouse. Hmmmm. Considering his height...perhaps the low pumps instead of the heels. Her sable tresses were upswept in a classically modern style. Perfect. The perfect balance of business style he'd respect, and feminine that he'd want to please. She smiled...almost predatorily, as she played the meeting out in her head.
It would be almost too easy, in spite of her enjoyment of the game. Provided her information about him was completely correct. She almost hoped it wasn't when her phone rang. She flipped it open one handed with the ease of much practice.

__________________________

Words and symbols seemed to hover over the pages they were on, the glow they cast fading as he read them. He guessed it was some sort of memory setup. One which would make it easier for him to recall the information later when he was setting circles with his Mentor overseeing the process. At least he hoped so. There was an amazingly vast body of knowledge to cover, and his mentor seemed to feel he was behind. He hated feeling that he wasn't good enough, and bent over slightly to study the tome harder.
His wife made a sound suspiciously like a stifled giggle from the sofa. She was a wizard of her own mundane style...magic when it came to cooking and crafts. Of course, several of his friends had tried to convince him that there was a type of magic for that. Dani refered to Kathryn as a 'Kitchen Witch,' a concept he found both humorous yet scarily accurate. He straightened up to look at Kathryn.
"Something funny?"
"You look like you should be wearing a pointy hat and have a long beard. Especially the way you are sitting bent over that book. A modern rendition of that Wizard at his Desk picture you have." She giggled out loud.
Thomas felt himself flush. She didn't even remotely believe in any of the wizardly or fantasy stuff. It made him feel foolish, even after he lit the candles on the table without anything more than glaring at them and saying a couple of eclectic words. He hated feeling foolish, and frequently wondered how he could make her understand him. Doubt was the bane of magic. Humor sometimes helped.
"Hey! That would be a great costume idea for you to make me for Halloween."

Hiya All!!! Since not going to finish during November (sad me)...check out NaNoFiMo.org as I polish the story off in December! Congratz to everyone in 2007, and see you in 2008!