23 April 2013

Novel Draft #1, Part #3

Having returned from England only yesterday, there was little to no time for interneting around. But since I finally managed (reluctantly) to open my laptop, here's Chapter 3, if you will, of what must and by all means will be continued, also known by the name of "What the hell is this and why would anyone read it." Enjoy. (NB. Please keep in mind that each chapter is told from a different point of view, alternating between the two main characters, Emma and Lucas.)

                            Lucas – The Prankster   

          “What were you thinking?” the Headmaster’s voice thundered across the hardwood desk and into my eardrums, making them quiver. Man, how I hated when he shouted.
          “For the love of God, Headmaster, I didn’t do anything that wrong,” I replied, mentally covering my ears as I was expecting the next wave of screams.
          “Lucas,” his voice was now unexpectedly low, “I believe I’ve told you hundreds-no, thousands of times to call me FATHER!” he ended with a boom. He always insisted on that little matter, and it was insanely amusing to taunt him every time I had the opportunity.
          “I’m terribly sorry, Father,” my lips slowly curved into a wicked smile as I continued “but I’m just not used to calling you that during school. Some students might think I’m being treated differently just because I am the Headmaster’s son.” He coughed. “And we certainly do not wish for that to happen now, do we?” I concluded, leaning against the back of the armchair I was sitting on.
          “I raised a devil…” Father sighed, reaching for a pile of folders on his desk.
The day had started just fine. Just fine. I woke up in a fairly decent mood at about 5 in the evening, decided I liked Saturdays, got dressed and went for a walk. It was the weekend before the official beginning of the semester, and the students-new and old-were starting to make their appearances. Oh how I like the freshmen, I wickedly thought as I was making my way down a flight of stairs and through the main corridor of the boys’ dormitories. Let’s see… Who do we make fun of today, Lucas? Ah, yes, a courtyard filled with possibilities, I mused, opening the front doors of the building and inhaling the crisp autumn air. My face instantly fell as I examined the grounds.
“Damn it!” I spat angrily at the sight of the vacant courtyard. “And I hoped today to be fruitful, too. Ah, no matter. I’ll just do with what I can.” And with that said I proceeded to the main building. Damn it, I’m bored. And why on Earth did they have to hang those excruciatingly ugly banners above Every. Single. Door. ‘Welcome to Hawkshaw’ my ass. It’s just like the devil hanging up signs saying ‘Welcome to Hell. Oh, yes, I’ll torture you for all eternity but hey, at least we have nice banners.’
“Oh I do believe nobody will miss you,” I eyed one of the banners. “I, for one, most certainly won’t.” And with a finger snap, it caught fire. Lovely. Just lovely. How I love the smell of fire in the morning. I dare say I must make more. And with that in mind, I scurried off to deal with the rest of the ugly hanging fiends. It was charity work and by God I knew I was doing the world a favour.
“There we go, just one more left,” I smiled and crossed my arms in front of the last living banner, a silent challenge floating in the air. I raised my hand to give the final blow when-
“What on Earth are you doing?”
It wasn’t necessary for me to turn around to recognize the person. That voice could only belong to-
“I said what are you doing?”
Yes. It was most certainly Victoria, and she was most certainly angry. Blasted girl.
“There’s smoke all over the school grounds and the buildings could have burned down entirely if I hadn’t come across your little scheme in time,” she puffed.
My little scheme? Oh, Victoria, you wound me,” I faced her, touching my chest for emphasis. “And anyway, how would you know that?” I inquired, turning my back again and refocusing on the banner. “You haven’t any evidence, of that I’m positive.”
“There’s nobody else around, and you’re staring at that poor thing as if you could easily burn holes through it with your eyes alone,” she spat.
“Well, since I’ve been caught…” I slowly turned my head around, smiling, “…there’s nothing left to it.” And I snapped my fingers. A scream followed, and a gush of wind quickly suffocated my previously invoked fire, leaving the banner hanging only by a thread, smoke rising from it in thick clouds. I wasn’t allowed to enjoy the sight for too long, because-
“You did not just do that!” she exploded, shooting blades from her eyes. “You are a dead man, Lucas Hawkshaw. Dead!” And she stomped away towards, I could only imagine, the Chairman’s office, to rat out on me. Not quite the team-player, are you, Victoria? I sighed, and shoved my hands deep in the pockets of my leather jacket. Well, I guess there’s no helping it. I exhaled, admiring my breath in the cold autumn air. Once a rat, always a rat, or so they say. I had just made it around the corner of one of the buildings used for classes when I saw what had to be a new student arriving. She was hugging her parents next to the front gates. Hmm, Lady Luck might just favour me after all. A new victim. And so shortly after my last triumph, too. Just grand.
I walked over, since her parents had already departed, and she was standing in the middle of the courtyard, talking to the building. What IS she doing? She looked rather dull, with plain brown hair and plain brown eyes, not a single strand of her hair seeming to be special. Why on Earth would she enroll here? I sense nothing special about her. And this school IS called “The Hawkshaw Institute for Gifted Children”… We had a most annoying little talk. After her adorable ‘Lizard King’ reply, I was on the edge of actually pinning her down, but John, the Headmaster’s faithful butler, had a different opinion on the matter. His call made me leave that strange girl where I found her and make my way across the grounds. Oh, she’ll be seeing more of me from now on. Much more of me. So much more that she’ll wish she never met me in the first place.
“Come along now, Master Hawkshaw,” John said while patting some dust off my shoulder. “And do stop picking on the new students, you’re scaring them off,” he frowned and nodded towards the girl I left behind in the middle of the courtyard. She was definitely not scared. Sharp-tongued, a little crazy and downright annoying, yes. But scared, no… not yet, at least, I thought to myself as we were walking through a series of long narrow corridors which lead to the Headmaster’s office.
And that’s how I got in the dreaded office in the first place, facing my Father’s fluttering nostrils. Ah, he really should trim those hairs.
“In any case,” he continued, “I must have you punished, my dear boy. I wouldn’t want to, as you so delicately put it, make the students think I’m treating you differently just because you are my son.” He took a quill and started writing something in what I could only imagine were my records.
“Hmm... yes...” he murmured, occasionally touching his glasses. My Father had an imposing countenance, with shiny emerald eyes and black hair, here and there streaked by touches of white. Not to mention his wings. His incredibly large, menacing wings. I was, seemingly, his exact replica. I didn’t resemble mother at all. Not even the tiniest bit. Not that I remember her, of course. She, as most dragonesses do, left me as soon as I was born. I don’t resent her for that or anything. No. Why should I? I mean, I grew up perfectly fine as a perfect gentleman even without a mother.
“There we are,” Father concluded, snapping my records shut. “You are to perform one month of community work around the school. That means-”
That means,” he cleared his throat, ignoring my last remark, “you will have to help with the cleaning, washing, scrubbing, raking, and everything else the groundskeepers think fit. Understood?” He eyed me with a glare which translated in “If you dare say something else than ‘Yes, Sir’ or ‘Of course, Father’, I will personally hunt you down.”
“Yes, Sir.” And I rose from my seat, aiming for the door. John opened it for me with his gloved hand and gave a short and firm bow as I passed through the doorway. Always prim and proper, just like Father wants it, eh, Johnny-boy? I thought bitterly, while I was making my way back through the narrow corridors which connected the Headmaster’s office to the courtyard. I felt the sudden urge to make a few laps around the grounds. A very compelling urge. I sighed, and opened my wings. Ah, this feels good, I thought, as I was stretching and flapping them in the air to see if they were ready for some rounds. Haven’t used you in quite a while now, have I, babies. I looked at my wings with the gaze of a loving father and, with one firm flap, I wasn’t earth-bound anymore. I still can’t believe he kept me in that blasted office for three whole hours. Three!
“Forgot how good this felt!” I screamed while lunging back and forth around the school buildings. “Wooo-hooooooo,” and with that said, I launched in a dive around the girls’ dormitories, hoping to wake someone up... or at least to see some girls changing. At least that. Not that I’m a pervert or anything. Because I’m not. I most definitely am not. 

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