I've decided to share my novel, chapter by chapter, as I get it written for NaNoWriMo. Mainly because: 1) This will give me blog posts (badges, always important) 2) This opens up my work for possible critique. 3) This might inspire other people to start writing.
The morning was still dark, and the surrounding area slept quietly. The assult team’s van rolled quiety into the warehouse’s grass-strewn parking lot. The back doors swung open, and the team quietly moved toward the warehouse, when a high pitched whine emitted from within. The warehouse exploded , sending a shock wave that pushed the assult team back. Glass sprayed the street below as windows burst from their frames. The assault team stood immobile beside the van, their eyes trained on the tongues of fire licking the sides of the walls. Smoke curled from the gaping, windowless frames, shooting into the sky like a beacon of destruction. “What happened?” one of the men shouted. “We were the only ones alerted to this nest!” His commander held an arm up to silence him, and that’s when they heard the voice calling to them.
“Little Lotus, all alone, tried to drag her body home,” a high-pitched, childish voice sang out from the smoke-filled haze of the burning warehouse. There was a loud crack from amidst the frames, and the building shuddered as the support beams began to burn. “Shrouded by her blood-stained hair, bent and broken, bones laid bare,” the eerie voice continued, louder than before. The fire began eating the wide doors of the entrance. Mingling with the steady crack and roar of the fire, the shrill voice could be heard. “Chilled by winds of east and west, wicked voices stole her rest.” The commander grew pale; he knew the song and the horror stories surrounding it. He turned to signal his men back into the van, but fell as a something sharp shot into his leg. He glanced down to see a dart embedded in his thigh. He’d never heard of the demons using weapons before, and he started shoving his men toward the van.
“Get in the van, quickly. If she finishes that song, we’re dead,” he shouted. He stumbled to his feet, hopping on the injured leg and following his men into the van. He could hear the engine starting as he prepared to climb into the van. Just as the van started to roll, something grabbed his wounded leg and tugged, causing him to stumble.
“Let in her life’s blood to die, Little Lotus says goodbye,” the voice whispered against his ear. A scream ripped through the night as he was dragged from the van. He could hear the crack of gunfire as his team opened fire on the creature holding onto his leg, and the pressure on his leg vanished. The tires on the van squealed loudly, echoing despite the roar of the flames. Then, the commander heard them, the brief cries of his men. “Say goodnight, Commander,” the voice whispered to him again. A sharp pain bloomed from the center of his back. From what, he doesn’t know.
“Looks like we’re late. Again,” another voice said from above him. He could hear the snarl of the creature that killed his men. “You are an ugly little shit, aren’t you?” He wondered briefly is his mind was simply going fuzzy from the blood soaking his Kevlar vest. He heard the click of a safety being released from a gun. “And you’ve burned down your home. How kind of you to do the dirty work for me,” the voice continues. Though his vision had become hazy, he could make out the shape of boots approaching his body.
“Little Lotus, all alo..” the taunting voice of the creature was cut short as a gunshot ripped through the air. The weight on his back dropped, rolling off of him and onto the pavement.
“It almost sounded like she was calling for you, Lotus,” a third voice chimed in. It was just as high-pitched and childish as the creature’s eerie voice. “I checked on the people in the van. They’re all dead.” The commander closes his eyes, mourning the good men that had been his team. “What about this one?”
“Commander of the local assault team, Carl Brady,” the more human voice replied. “Spinal trauma, projectile wound, and he’s bleeding out. Take care of him while I dispose of this little monster.” A dragging sound emitted from his side as footsteps approached his head. Small, delicate hands pressed his back on either side of the wound. He screamed as he felt the hands dig into the wound. He couldn’t understand the words spoken by the person, though they were the only thing keeping him from drowning in the pain blossoming from his wound.
The ground shuddered as a few of the support beams of the warehouse collapsed, sending a spray of glass and debris around them. Yet, the chant of the third voice doesn’t cease, and the pain began to ebb. “Don’t forget to wipe his memory this time,” the human voice shouted from a distance. “I don’t want to be stopped by a cop again because he recognized my voice, Angel.”
“Pushy old hag,” the childish voice muttered. Hands encircled his head and he felt a pressure building in his skull. “Sorry, sir,” the voice apologized before a searing pain penetrated his mind. As his vision began to darken, he heard the human woman returning. “All he’ll remember is the demon,” the childish voice said from above him. “That dart had a mild sedative, too weak to do him much good. He would have heard that beast tear apart his men. I almost feel sorry for him.” As the world faded to black, he could hear sirens screaming in the distance. The weight of the hands on his head disappeared, and he thought he head the sharp tap of heels running into the distance.
A firetruck and an ambulance streaked into the parking lot of the warehouse. As the paramedics rushed to check for survivors, the firefighters began to fight the flames still threatening to collapse the warehouse. One of the paramedics felt the pulse of the commander. “I found a survivor!” he shouted to the others still searching the van. They brought a stretcher and gingerly lifted the commander onto it. As they started back toward the ambulance, one of them pointed to the area beside the warehouse. There, illuminated by the fire and the first light of the morning sun, was a large black circle. In the center, an intricate flower design could be seen. “Is that what I think it is?”
“It can’t be. The Black Lotus disappeared four years ago,” one of the others replied as they hoisted the commander into the ambulance. “And they never killed humans before…”
“Maybe it’s a copy-cat,” the third said as he closed the ambulance doors and the siren screamed once more. As sunlight streaked across the sky, news teams flooded the burned out warehouse, all commenting on the return of the Black Lotus.