Sunday, 6 November 2011

An Apprentice

Flame stared at the letter from the sanctury. Literally stared. There was no point of course the decision was final. He was about to get an apprentice dectective, one with the ability to read the future and he did'nt partically like it. Her name was Zorabose.

She had dark black wavy hair, a button nose and thin lips. she was slender and fit looking. He had only just got the letter, only, as in it just came through the letterbox of his apartment in Dublin. She was to be dropped off at six. He looked at his watch. The time of course was  five to six. Typical......

His flat was a mess, he needed a shower and had to drive into town to get something. 'Of course there would be no time for that now' he thought as the doorbell rang. "God help me" he muttered annoyed,

Flame was never one for keeping his anger in check. Never. He opened the door to find a small petite girl  with black wavy hair. It was six on he dot. He opened the door wider and beckoned her in from the dreary corridor. She looked up at him curiously, staring at his red hair.

"What?", he snapped.

She giggled. "Hi, I'm..."

" Zorabose Reckfiend", he cut her off " Apprentice detective, assigned to me by that stupid detective mentor  project from the sanctuary, you can see the future. Anything else?"

"Not really.." she answered disheartened.

"Good", Flame sighed.

"You don't want me here do you?, I can come back later if you would like?"
"No, its fine, I'm just a bit short tempered."

"Okey, Dokey", Zorabose  said cheerily. She pushed past Flame and went into the living room. He followed her. Zorabose had already made herself at home, her black hard dirty boots on the coffee table,  the TV remote in her hand currently watching Spongebob Squarepants. Flame walked over to the sofa across from her. He sat down.

"You certainly know how to make yourself at home", he muttered.

Zorabose looked up. "Wha?!?", she yelped startled "Didn't see you." She went back to watching TV.

Flame looked at her. She was exactly like him when he was younger. Independent, willing and stubborn.

"How old are you?", he asked out of the blue.

"I am twelve", she muttered engrossed in Spongebob.

"And", Flame continued, now he had her attention "Do you know who's idea it was to create this programme?"

"Spongebob? yeah umm..", She looked thoughtful.

"No",  Flame interrupted, " The apprentice programme."

"Yeah" Zorabose said  surprised.
"Didn't you read the letter?"

"Just tell me" Flame snapped.

"Ok, the Elders did. They thought it would be good. I mean after all Skulduggery Pleasant and Valkyrie Cain did it, why not others?"

Flame got up and walked to the kitchen area where he had left the letter. He picked up and scanned it.

We have made this decision based on how well Detective Skulduggery Pleasant has got on with his apprentice Detective Valkyrie Cain

Flame dropped the letter. "Damn!" he muttered, " I hate those two."

To be continued.. 

Tuesday, 11 October 2011

Arca Monvere p1 The necromancer wanted

The necromancer crunched across the snow to his car. He opened it with the button on his keys. His name was Acra Monvere, and he was a rogue necromancer who didn't bother with beliefs and that sort of mumbo- jumbo. His object that he stored his power in was a skull shaped brooch which he always wears just in case.

He gave up on magic a couple of years ago. He got fed up of being bossed about, so he left. He switched on the engine and pulled out of his drive. He turned on the radio. He had wandered without a care in the world for a couple of years. He only settled down weeks ago.

The radio blared and boomed all the way around town. Acra started singing the current song. He was very bad at it. Singing was never his thing. He got to the motorway and pulled out. He didn't know where he was going, but he'd know as soon as he got there. The news came on.

"In the headlines today a woman has been murdered on the m50 by a mysterious man wearing black...."

The car stopped. People beeped behind him. In the front a man walked of nowhere, coming straight at Acra's car. He knew instantly who it was. It was the high necromancer Baden Maugham. He hated rogues. He hated anyone who went against the beliefs.

The door flew off its hinges. Acra tried to raise shadows, but his brooch was pulled off.

"Hello," said Maugham cheerfully.

Acra gulped. "Hi," he replied.

And then Maugham was on the ground dead.

Acra just managed.

"What the hell?..."