Stone Cold Revenge, Hugs.And.Kisses [bill gates books recommendations TXT] 📗

/> "Of course you are," Her mom snapped back, "You're just not trying."

"Because I don't want to!" Shock said as she stomped down the hallway to her room, "I don't want to draw stupid flowers or braid my hair."

"You would have more friends if you did," Her mom said going after her.

"I don't want friends like that!" Shock slammed her door and screamed, "I hate you!"

Those where the last words Shock ever said to her mother. She slid into her bed and hid under the covers, unaware that these where her final hours. The winds of change were blowing in more than one way that night. They blew right through the bathroom window, lifting the shower curtain right onto the burning candle. It burst into flames and burned to the carpet, the floor, and into the walls. Fire crept and smoldered its way throughout the house silently, releasing its choking gas straight into the room of a sleeping child. It was the first time the darkness had a hold of her. Slithering like snakes into her mouth and crawled into her lungs. But even then there was an escape, a way the child broke free. It was called death.

People have a habit of blaming Death for a lot of things. Wars, plagues, natural disasters; all Death's doing. Worst of all Death has been accused of the heinous act of stealing our friends and loved ones away from us. But when you look at it, who suffers more? Those who survive the tragedies, or the ones that Death takes away? The few lucky ones that don't live to see the world they knew crumble to the ground. Or in this case, don't live to see the look on their parents faces when they find them in a smoke filled room. They don't see their tears at the funeral as a small coffin is put in the ground or hear that sad funeral music.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Wait a minute. That music was too real to be a dream. Shock's head ached and pounded, angry that she had decided to wake up and spoil the hallucination it was having because of the gas. Once the ringing in her head stopped Shock could hear the soft notes of a recorder being played somewhere. Since she was already annoying herself she decided to open her eyes to a blinding light. She would have thrown her hands up to cover her eyes but realized she couldn't move them. After a minute of blinking she was able to look around.

She was in a laboratory, at least that's the first thing that came to her. There where shelves from the floor to ceiling filled with strange contraptions and potions. The ceiling was high but it was covered in support beams. Wherever she was, she was more underground than the rest of the city. Shock tried moving again, no luck. Her hands and feet had been strapped down to an autopsy table. After a minute of testing the restraints she gave up and looked around again. To her left was a big wooden door which supposedly led to stairs, to her right was her kidnapper.

He wasn't what she had expected; the guy wasn't any older than she was. Then again she had first kidnapped someone when she was much younger. He was average height, skinny, his head had a pointy chin and had unruly black hair on top. The lab coat he was wearing was white and his long gloves were black. Whoever he was wasn't paying attention to her right now, he was the source of the music. For a guy with small hands he played the recorder very well. Music flowed from the instrument in a sad melody, like the funeral music she had hallucinated. Before Shock could think of a way to escape while he was distracted, the music stopped. The kidnapper turned his insane yellow eyes to Shock.

"You're awake, excellent," the kidnapper said eagerly, "Can't experiment when the lab rat's out cold."

"Who are you calling a lab rat? You're the one who's going to be in a cage as soon as I get out of these restraints," Shock said darkly.

"I knew you would say that, Samantha," the kidnapper smiled.

Shock's face started for a second, then went back to furious, "Who are you? How do you know my name?"

He started walking to one of the many shelves, "My name is Vincent. As for your name, I assumed it was Samantha since the little girl was visiting that grave when she had an, accident."

"Liar! You're the one who turned my sister into stone! How could you do such a cruel thing to a little kid?"

"The way I tried to do it to your parents," Vincent said nonchalantly." Shock couldn't help but let out a small gasp. Vincent chuckled, "That's right you don't know. I started with you're dad, no luck, he died before the stone potion could take any effect. You're mom hung in long enough to start turning to stone, but she died before she became fully encased. Without a living body, the stone just turned to gravel. Not much evidence to the police. And finally your sweet little sister, all by herself in that graveyard, was the perfect target. At long last, my potion worked."

"How can you sound so proud knowing that you cursed a kid to a fate worse than death?" Shock said furiously.

"Don't you know? The best part of being a mad scientist is being mad. Any crazy person could create a potion like this. Only a mad person could create it, and use it effectively."

"Effectively?" Shock said, "What do you mean by that?"

"I'm not going to tell you," Vincent said maliciously, "Why deny you something to think about for all of eternity?" He spun around and sprayed a fine mist out of a bug sprayer into Shock's face.

She could feel it. The gas was starting to take effect. Shock tried to hold her breath but her skin was going numb. Coldness was creeping over her. She looked down at her feet; stone was beginning to crawl its way up her legs. Vincent looked on eagerly, Shock never wanted to punch someone in the mouth so much. Everything was spinning, colors blended, she felt dizzy. She tried to raise her arm but her whole body had gone limp. All the feeling was gone; she was a soul without a body. A soul that couldn't roam free, a soul that would be trapped in stone forever. The stone crept slowly onward. Why was it taking so long? Vincent started laughing.

"The delay is working perfectly. You see Shock; your sister was encased a little too fast. I wanted the process to be a little slower, especially for you." He played with a lock of her hair, Shock was almost grateful that she couldn't feel anything. He laughed again, "Your friends are going to get here eventually. Why don't you smile for them?" He fixed her mouth into a smile. "After all you will be stuck that way forever, might as well do it with a smile." He laughed again and reached for a syringe, "Before I forget there's something I need from you. You see, I have nothing out for you personally. I'm really out for blood."

Shock would have feinted when she saw that needle go into her arm. Ask her to take down someone twice her size, ask her to go extreme bungee jumping, defuse a bomb, walk in a mine field, no problem. But needles… would have rather done any of those things than to see that giant needle pull out her own blood. The dull crimson red blood filled the syringe before Vincent stopped. He left her staring at the tiny drops of blood slowly creeping out of the puncture wound, Shock felt sick.

Half of her was stone now; it had crept up to her waist while Vincent was talking to her. Shock didn't even have the satisfaction that it would be over. It would never be over. The cruelest part was that death would never come, she was a deathless. Death might have lost, but it didn't mean winning was better. Winning was torture, pure torture. Shock thought of Violet. The sweet little girl she knew that found it in her heart to love the dead, if Shock was feeling this way now. What was happening to her little sister? She had been stone for days. Was there even anything there left to save?

Save? Who was she kidding? Even if Lock, Barrel, and Kevin found her they couldn't stop what was happening to her. What was worse is that if they came they would end up like her. No, there wasn't any hope. Not for her, not for her sister, not for anybody who crossed Vincent's demented path. She could almost hear them, the boys thundering footsteps coming to her rescue. The large wooden door creaking as it was being beaten down. Glass beakers crashing to the floor as tables were turned over. The sounds seemed so close but still far away, like she was underwater. Yes, that was it, like drowning. That part when the light and safety of the air above gets farther and farther away. That part where your life flashes in front of your eyes just before the black bottom of the sea swallows you whole. "Lock would have made a great hero," she thought. Tearing down the door, smashing Vincent's head against the wall, coming to hold her hand, and finally realizing there was nothing he could do to save her. End of movie, roll the credits.

Reality started to blink away. She actually started seeing her hallucinations. Because all of a sudden Lock was there. Right in front of her, probably holding her hand even though it had already tuned to stone. Was he saying something? Sound meant nothing to her now. The look on his face, was it pain? She couldn't tell anymore, everything was going dark. Shock wanted to tell him to stop, that she didn't want the last thing she saw was him looking so sad. Oh, well. Maybe she could cling to this one picture for eternity. His face, his eyes, stunning even when filled with terror. That would bring her peace for a long time. The darkness welcomed her back with a vice grip, never wanting to loose its prize again.


Nothing Left To Lose

Chapter 10 Nothing Left to Lose

Klondike went slower this time. Mostly because he was following a scent rather than just returning to a place he had already been, the other reason was because he waited for his pack members to catch up. The scent of the person-he-did-not-know was hard to find among the other smells of the street. Alpha-member-Shock's scent was more familiar, but this was also bad because he sensed danger everywhere.

Danger meant that alpha member-Shock could get hurt. Klondike smelled no blood, that's good.