MoboReader> Fantasy > She's A Natural

   Chapter 4 NO.4

She's A Natural By windxdancer97 Characters: 13945

Updated: 2018-02-01 00:38


During the day, the lively train station could make a person dizzy. People pushed and shoved each other, intent to get wherever they were going as soon as possible. Lights as bright as the sun competed with colorful shops to attract attention, every sign trying to make itself more important with its brilliancy.

Nothing could top the annoyance that came with all of the noise, though. The sounds that were impossible to evade quickly gave was to a pounding headache: shouting parents, arguing tourists, screaming children, laughing teenagers, and loudmouthed vendors all tried to be heard over the whistling engines, rustling and merry jingling of coins, musicians boasting their talents for a nickel, and that one kid that always got lost, wailing for his mommy.

These events happened every single day at the exact same time, like clockwork. The workers at the train station could tell you the precise moment the noise level would increase, what time of day the flashing lights were the most annoying, and what musician would go home with the most money that day. (Whenever a train was two minutes away from departing, and every child suddenly had to go to pee, tickets were lost, and bags disappeared as effectively as if they were possessed by Houdini; at night, when the sun couldn't outshine all of the neon, fake lights; and the one with that sat at the entrance, before his music would blend in with all of the other sounds for the ones getting on the train and when his melody would be one of comfort for the ones just leaving the aggravating hustle.)

If I were to bet my imaginary money, I would say that every station in every single city, big or small, had the exact same events. The hobos on the benches, the hippies playing guitars with spare change in their empty case, what seemed like seven kids for every one adult. I couldn't think of a single rhyme or reason why there would be any difference.

Except at nighttime.

The difference was laughable. I noticed the change immediately as I wandered into what could have been the ghost station in a ghost town. The vendors had locked their shops up and gone home. (Because everybody wanted to steal their lollipops and postcards.) The energetic, welcoming workers were replaced with the midnight shifters, who stared at you blankly and responded five seconds later than the usual person when they were asked a question, just as you were considering repeating yourself. The lights dimmed into a flickering, greenish hue, conserving energy for the next day. All of the begging hobos had fallen asleep, and the musicians packed their instruments up and went to McDonalds with whatever they had made that day.

My stomach grumbled. I seriously had to stop thinking about food, especially that signature red box with greasy fries spilling out of it.

I sighed, studying my free ticket. My eyes narrowed suspiciously as I actually took time to look at it. The train tickets I had seen were white slips of paper with blue writing on it. This paper could be described as nothing other than gold. The light it reflected made it shimmer weakly. Blood red writing detailed the train I was supposed to get on, the departure time, and my seat in calligraphy font.

Now I was really starting to think this was a prank. This ticket obviously wasn't valid.

Just to be sure, I checked what time my train was supposed to deport, then compared it to the timings listed on the billboard. I glared at the information. The next train came at five in the morning, not midnight! This was such a joke!

I growled under my breath in frustration, pivoting on my heel and stomping towards the exit, ignoring the amused look of the overweight man behind the counter. I resisted the urge to yell some not-so-nice comments at him, instead muttering them under my breath.

Someone tapping my shoulder made me pause in my journey to the trash can to dump the hoax ticket. I looked at them harshly, not willing to underestimate anyone lurking about a train station at—I glanced at the clock mounted on the wall—11: 45 at night. Who knew what kind of creep this guy could turn out to be?

Well, I guess I was just as much as a creep as he was. I wasn't here with a definite purpose either. Would we get married and have little creeper babies together, teach them to loiter around public train stations too?

I really needed some food and some sleep, pronto. My crazy thought process was proof enough of that.

"Can I help you?" I asked coldly, not turning around to face him completely. He wasn't unattractive, but his eyes seemed disturbed. They kept shifting around the train station, as if possessed by some kind of mission. He could pass for a Russian serial killer, I supposed. His blonde hair was slicked back, and his icy blue eyes were alert and focused, like he was scouting for a target. That target wouldn't stand a chance against his muscular arms, encased in a leather jacket that gave him a dangerous, untrusting vibe, adding to my theory.

He shifted closer to me, covering my body from view. Shielding me from anyone who would see him…do what to me? Kill me? Mug me? Take me in his arms and kiss me passionately in a way that was completely inappropriate for the public eye?

What? I had a thing for blondes.

"Throwing that ticket away would be the stupidest thing you could do, my queen, " he muttered. His voice was dark and rough, like he ate nails out of a box for breakfast and chased them down with a glass of cement.

I didn't know what to say. Explain to him that the ticket was fake? Accuse him of being a part of this joke? Yell at him for calling me his queen?

"I will guide you to your train, " he stated, leaving no room for me argue with him. He was in for a rude wakeup call in the form of Mia Lane.

"You think I don't know this is some kind of prank?" I scoffed. "Whoever the hell you are, get out of my face. I'm not going to play this stupid game you crazy folks are setting up. I know this ticket is fake, alright? So, if you don't plan on buying me some food, I suggest you get out of me way."

I shoved past his shoulder, obviously startling him with my blunt response. I ran my hand through my dark hair. Now the question was, where was I gonna go?

I sighed, resigning myself to trying out my pickup lines on the guy at McDonalds. I just hoped he wouldn't think I was serious after he handed me my food.

I was about to drop the ticket in the trash on my way out when I was stopped again. This time, the Russian serial killer gripped my wrist. Not too tightly, but his grip was firm.

"I will guide you to your train, " he said again, starting to drag me towards the back of the station where the bathrooms and cleaning closet were located.

"Hey! Let go of me!" I snapped. "If you think you're going to murder me in the bathroom, think again buddy! I…I know karate! I'll kick your ass to the freaking curb!"

RSK ignored me, instead taking me

into the janitor's closet. "You sick-o! If you so much as think about taking off my clothes, I'll gouge your eyes out with a rusty spoon!"

He suddenly froze, turning to me with a panicked expression on his face. "I'm not going to touch you, I swear! Don't tell him you thought I was! He'll kill me! I'm just following orders, I promise! Please don't tell him, my queen. I'm sorry, but I must get you to your train on time!"

I almost laughed. He looked like a kid asking his babysitter not to tell his parents he ate an extra cookie for his snack. Instead, I schooled my expression into a menacing scowl.

"Who shouldn't I tell?" I demanded. "Who the hell told you to get me on that train? Where am I going?"

"You are going to meet him, my queen. All I can tell you is that you are his. You will meet him in two days time. He will explain everything then."

"Maybe I should tell him that you touched what was his…" I threatened.

His eyes widened comically. "Please, my queen, have mercy…" he begged.

"I want a name, " I hissed, secretly smiling inside. Now I was getting somewhere.

"I…I cannot, my queen. His existence needs to be kept a secret—"

"What's your name, then?" I pressed.

He gulped. "N-Nikolai, my queen, " he stammered.

I mentally cheered, patting myself on the back. I knew he was Russian!

"Well, Nikolai, " I smirked. "I'll just go tell this guy that you were flirting with me and asked if we could get jiggy in this here closet, alright?"

He looked around the train station, scanning. "His name is Killian, " he whispered. I wouldn't have heard him if I hadn't made the air currents flow towards my ears. "Please don't ask me for anything else, my queen."

I shrugged. "That was all I needed, Nicky."

He glowed under my nickname for him. "And telling him…?" he asked hopefully.

"You did your job fantastically, " I nodded. "You were polite and professional."

He beamed at me. "Thank you, my queen."

He opened the closet door, ushering me through it before I could protest. My profanities were stopped by the sight before me. This wasn't a janitor's closet.

Nikolai led me towards the train waiting on the tracks, the engine puttering softly. It was high class, that much was obvious. It was polished to a shiny ebony, as if painted with a coat of oil. The inside, from what I could see through the windows, appeared spacious and comfortable, nothing like the crowded, dingy seats of the trains I'd rode on. The station was more crowded than the local station at midday, and I wondered where all of these people came from. The high ceiling sparkled, as if made from diamonds. Chandeliers instead of lights hung from the ceiling. The floor I walked on made my steps echo, and the women wearing high heels clicked and clacked whenever they walked. I could see my reflection when I looked at the ground as effectively as if I was looking into black water.

What had I just walked into?

"Safe trip, my queen, " Nikolai yelled over the increasing volume of the train whistle as it prepared to leave the station. "I hope to see you soon."

I waved to him as I boarded the train, my opinion of him changing. He seemed nice enough once he complied with my wishes. Immediately, my bag was taken from me from an assistant and put in a compartment out of view. I sat down in an overstuffed seat, and my fingers brushed against the red velvet in wonder.

The inside of the train was just as spectacular as the inside of the station. I compared the two, probably looking ridiculous as my head bobbed from inspecting the inside of the train to peering out the window again and again. The roof of the car glittered in the same way, the floor was the same black material—glass, I realized in astonishment—and the windows were rimmed with what I guessed was pure gold.

The pure luxury of this place was unreal. I pinched myself to make sure I hadn't fainted inside the regular station and dreamed up Nikolai and this whole fiasco. The pain registered, and I was still inside the train fit for royalty.

The train lurched forward just as I went to wave to Nikolai again. The speed it was travelling made it impossible to make out any shapes outside the window, and I resided into the recesses of my mind as I gazed out the window.

Nikolai had seemed nice enough, if a little panicked at first. He seemed collected, though, on a mission he was determined to complete for this Killian guy.

Killian.

His name sounded scary, and I had no doubt he has a physique to match if Nikolai's reaction to him was any indication. If he could intimidate someone like Nikolai, the Russian serial killer, into doing his bidding, who exactly was he? A gang leader? A mafia boss?

Well, he was someone people wanted to please. The first guy that had given me my ticket had been a complete wreck. He looked like he had found the answer to Killian's life problems when he saw me. Like I was some kind of treasure.

I brooded over my possibly idiotic decision to follow the directions of a complete stranger that didn't exactly look all right in the head. His words came back to me, echoing in my mind.

You've always wondered how your eyes changed color and you were gifted with powerful abilities years ago, yes?

Well, obviously I'd wondered. What sane person wouldn't question my sudden, paranormal abilities and just as abrupt eye color change to such a brilliant bronze from my original dull brown?

That day in the forest plagued my unconscious mind as my eyes slipped shut, exhaustion crashing over me like a tsunami. With my lids half obscuring my vision, the world around me faded away. The lights of the city blurred until they became sunlight dappling down through tree leaves. The chug-chug-chug of the engine putted softly into a bird's chirping melody. The seat cushion sagged under my weight the way the ground does after fresh rain, the grass and moist dirt not resisting like they usually did. A woman garbed in a pink dress and pregnancy bustled past me, and the air she disturbed brushed against my cheeks like a gentle breeze.

By the time I entered dreamland, I was already in that cursed forest eleven years ago.

________________________________________________________

It's not much, but it's something. I'm stressed out over school, so don't expect super quick updates until after exams. Sorry guys, but I wanna take my time on this story. It'll be worth it, trust me :)

Alright, how about something you guys actually care about, like the story? Haha, what did ya think? I want Mia to be more sarcastic and funny than Eva and Ivy, but is her personality showing through, or am I just writing junk? There's a fine line between humor and, well, just stupid monologue.

Vote, comment, fan! I love you guys!

Fans: When the heck is Killian coming into the picture?!?!

He's coming, don't worry! Patience, their meeting won't disappoint! I have plans for those two... :)

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