[For all those writers who post their wonderful stories... Here's a suggestion.]

I found that helpful. I have posted a few things here hoping for some advice, for critiques, honestly just anything. I have had maybe 2 replies in total on some older stuff i shared. The lack of comments has me to scared to show my main story that i have been working on for a very long time. I wrote 300 pages and its on going, but i don't want to post it here. Harsh criticism would be better than no comments. at least that way i have something to improve. i don't know, maybe it just takes time to get your name out their.

[I Got You, Chapter 2 The Angel King]

oh, quick note, i am not done with chapter 2. there is still about a page or 2 left.

[I Got You, Chapter 2 The Angel King]

Really would love some feedback.There are some spots that need a little work, others that affect other ideas  for what i have planned. I tend to use highlighted marks that are meant for notes to my self, please bare with me and ignore them. I hope that it does not distract you from what i have written.

once we get past chapter 4 or 5, we you will start to see the regression. this is meant to be a long story.

If you are willing to take a moment, there are three things that i would like to know. 1, just want do you think of the story so far. 2, the fight scene at the end of chapter 2, how was it? 3, i am trying to slowly bake in the world building in a way that does not come off as info dumping. Just want to know what you think of the world i have put together.

 

 

 

 

Chapter 2 The Angel King             

MARY:

                “Great more traffic, “ I thought as the distant flashing lights ahead alluded to some new added grief to my ride home.

                “Recalculating,” the female voice of the ai toned, the GPS whorled and my System tried to calculate a more efficient route around the road congestion and weather as the rain fell. The light inside the cabin lit up as the new route flashed into place on the dash only to reroute again for the 4^th time a minute later.

                I sighed watching the dash alter course again. What should have taken forty minutes had already become an hour and home was still a long way off. The day had already been tiring, meeting one of my oldest and dearest clients on the opposite side of town, a new project to sink my design skills into.

                 “So, what are you going to do while we are gone?” Robert asked through the speakers of my  vehicle. My mind snapped back to the conversation, the traffic jam forcing me to slowly crawl forward.

                I continued with the conversation, not letting my annoyance come out while I waited behind a sea of red lights that delayed my progress home. “Well, Once I get home, I think a nice hot and long bath would be great, and then off to bed. But I plan on spending the weekend with mom to catch up.  It’s been too long, and you know how Beth gets when too much time passes; I know she has been missing me. And after, who knows might pick up some part time work sitting again outside of my regular stuff.” It had been a while since I last done that and I kind of missed it. That, and it would be a good alternative for relieving the pressure inside my instincts while they were gone.

                Roberts deep voice snickered as I focused on the road, “I thought Sunny would have curbed that need of ours. Don’t tell me my little girl is not enough?”

                He was trying to be playful, but I was not in the mood. Still, I knew what he was doing he just wanted to talk before his plane left, and it would not be fair to him to be a grouch; so, I played along. “Oh, she does, but I won’t have my regular fix for a week, and besides it might be nice to reconnect with some of the other mommies, daddies, and their littles in my community.” I knew that Robert would understand, he would not be offended.

                The fatigue I felt was immense from working late and with the last-minute favor to transport my fiancée to the airport with his little girl, and well, the day could not end soon enough.

                The speakers in the car cracked again, Robert’s voice cutting in and out as I drove on. If you could call it driving; the tedium of the stopping , the starting, the stopping again my car creeping forward foot by slow and agonizing foot. My instincts kept up with my surroundings, squeezing and releasing a minor hold over my attention and control center of my brain. The effect held an odd similarity with motion sickness but not inside my stomach, inside my Big space. Every sudden brake light, every hasty car that tried to pass or merge in front of me sent a small tingle of caution through my mind and the weather only added to the tension inside.

                “Sorry to cut it short but I got to go Mary, Charles said that the plane is ready to depart, thanks for giving Sunny and I a lift to the airport.”

                There had to be a faster way home I thought reaching for the dash, resetting the system to ignore the Ult-way. Maybe there was a fast way through the city instead of around it. I nearly missed the urgency in his voice and hastily replied, “It was no trouble at all,” and for good measure, not wanting to let on to my lapse in concentration I added, “it’s not like you needed me to drive you Robert,” I chided.

                But his answer to my hastily crafted words were unexpected and endearing, “Can you blame me for wanting to spend time with you Mary, even if it was a bit selfish of me? Things are just better when you are around.” I couldn't help but smile at Robert's words that broke through the mood I had been in. He was always so charming and sweet, even when he was trying to be cheeky.

                 “Yes, I could have driven or have been driven but how could that ever replace your company? besides, Sunny has been warming up to you and you know what that means to me after so many months of trying.”

                I did know, it had been a challenge at the best of times, it still was. It was not like I was looking for a boyfriend, much less a serious relationship when we met. It just kind of happened when I answered an ad that Robert’s secretary put out. Work was going well, great actually but remodeling, designing, or redecorating homes did not give solace to that instinctual need and craving all Bigs had. The need to take care and nurture someone, it could be overpowering at times and as a Big, it usually was with a little. Though it did not have to be, it could be with anyone, the elderly could be very rewarding to work with or some other good cause like the medical field, but I did not have the stomach for that. Most of our kind wanted to work with littles or kids, and I tried to devote a few hours of my time each week to that in my community as a babysitter. It was as close to the old pain I could get without the reminder and depression of what I had lost.(Her baby 2 months old died. I don’t know if this goes here). I kind of want a hint, but this feels like to big of a hint to me)

                That’s how I met Robert and his little girl. The professional worded ad that Beth had forwarded to me was what I had come to expect like many others that I had answered over the years. But what I did not expect on that first day was to find a terrified and distrustful little girl still struggling to bottom out and solidify her little space. And a desperate daddy trying to help her from her own problems and setbacks. And well, things happened from there and imagining life without either of them had become difficult.

                “Take care Mary, drive safe and be careful on your way home, text me when you get there, I'll be in the air, but I want to know you got home safely when I land, don’t forget to let Beth know you got home safely too.”

                My blinker flashed, and I turned following the new route down the off-ramp into a part of the city that I had never explored before. I drove on into the unknown, not recognizing my surroundings or even the names of the streets.

                 “Robert, you do know I am a big also right, I got my instincts plus you know I am a safe driver.”

                 “Yeah, I know, but Beth is a Big too, and like you said I know how she gets; she will worry. You’re still her little girl in her eyes.”

                My lips pursed at that, but there was no fault in Robert’s words. Mom would want to know that I got home safe. Beth frustrates me at times but what was I going to do? It’s not like she could help herself.

                I missed a turn and my lungs slowly inhaled, forcing my frustration of the road conditions into my grip, pulling off to the side of the road waiting for the system to calculate a new path. Entombing another deep sigh, I waited for the call to end, annoyed that I had missed my turn. My instincts were focused on safe driving and disregarded the GPS entirely as irrelevant. The part of my brain that wanted to get home was not enough for my instincts to work in tandem with. It was the scary part about being Big. Instincts never prioritized my own safety, wellbeing, or wants; it was only ever focused outward on those around me. All that careful driving kept me safe through the night, but that was just a byproduct of needing to take care of all the other drivers on the road.   I find this interesting, adds to world building, Man I am info dumping all over the place.

                Closing my eyes I breathed away the frustration from the exceptionally long drive that I had already committed too. Life was all about having the right mindset, right? So instead of dwelling on circumstance I chose to focus elsewhere. Yeah, it sucked to be semi lost and stuck in traffic, but it was a nice ride to the private runway at least. Enjoying Roberts playful banter, the time talking with him, and his little girl was more than worth it. They were quite the pair, teasing one another and inviting me into their game. It was fun and silly, and I felt honored that they wanted to share the best of what they had with me.

                Robert was a wonderful man, his little girl breathtaking, and sometimes a last-minute favor is just how life goes. One minute you are doing your own thing, and another minute life interrupts you for the better, and small moments of gold follow. Like with that ad, you meet someone and new possibilities that you had never imagined or had given up on become possible and your life changes for the better.

                 I breathed again. letting the annoyance of the traffic and the weather fade to blissful longing at what could be. Dating was never my strong suit; I had my own insecurities to deal with after all these years. But I was trying. And I chose to believe I could still somehow rewrite the overarching story of my life and find my own bit of happiness when I said yes to Robert.

                My eyes opened and my nose flared, and I felt better after calming my mind and thoughts. “I will text you both, and of course text me when you land. Because I’ll worry too. Is sunny still awake? I want to say my goodbyes.”

                “The ball of energy? Nah, it’s way past her bedtime and she passed out a while ago, but she’s safe in her seat, I hate that I am going to have to wake her up when we land. But before she conked out, she said that she already misses you, Mary.”

                “Really,” I smiled at that,  “Ah that’s sweet. Thanks for sharing that, I am going to miss you both too. Try to get away from those business deals and have some fun with her.”

                “I am more prepared for that than the business deals,” he chuckled. “Really got to go now, take care Marry, love you and see you next week.”

                “Love you to Robert take care.”

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

                The call ended and the system found a new path through the foreign part of the city. My new course might take a bit longer, but hopefully I could drive without the constant stopping and starting that I had been stuck in. The density of other vehicles seemed considerably less than the Ult-way and the constant sea of red lights was thankfully not present. Accelerating from my spot on the side of the road I merged into the loose line of cars making my way to that relaxing hot bath calling my name.

                The part of town I was in seemed old, a bit sketchy, and in desperate need of more lighting. Garbage littered the broken sidewalks and many of the streetlights were busted or burnt out, leaving large swaths of the road in inky darkness. Rain continued to fall at its annoying and lazy pace and the road seemed to perspire, fog hanging low, my instincts perked up a bit, taking the surroundings in. It noted everything with a single casual glance and returned to its watchful vigil; cautious but not overly worried.

                Traffic lights were plentiful as I weaved down one street then another and I would have been lost without the system but faithfully, I followed the path laid out before me. There was little of value to see, and my thoughts wandered back to Robert, to the possibility of what might be. Robert never wanted to marry until he met me and saw how I was with Sunny. I had Given up on marriage after my loser ex-boyfriend broke my heart and left me to face my grief alone. Married, the idea was like a forgotten dream, and it felt too good to be true.

                The dream that I had dreamed since I was a little girl was tempting and within reach. But it was not like I was in control of that outcome, and for that matter neither was Robert. It all depended on that little girl and what she wanted. The early months had been rough trying to build trust. Slowly learning about her past had been shocking once it all came out, but the revelation just made me, all of me, want to try that much harder. She was remarkable for a little and the time I spent with them both satisfied my needs in ways that I had never known.

                Me “a wife,” me “a… mommy.” I thought …“Again.”

                The thought was sometimes too unbearable, but the dream was still there. It was not how I imagined it all those years ago, but it still could be. Robert’s instincts were incredibly attractive, and he likes what he sees when I give my care to his little girl. Perhaps I mused, in time, Sunny would accept my bond; and maybe I would be ready too.

                I came to another light and waited to make a left turn. The rain started to pick up again and I reached for the dash. My windows fogged up, the temperature had dropped, and I dialed up the heat a few degrees to offset the growing sweat on the glass. The light turned green, and I continued down a lonely street, my headlamps illuminated the road, and I passed the occasional parked car making my way.

                Up ahead, the silhouette of a man stood in the dark advancing slowly into the street. My instincts took note of the pedestrian, and caution filled my mind. Then another figure emerged into my field of vision hugging the ground, moving past the obstruction of a parked car that obscured my view. My instinct noticed but suddenly became alarmed when the smaller figure did not stop, continuing their way over the line and into the street.

                I saw for just a moment, but a moment was all my instincts needed. There on the wet pavement a smaller person crawling backward on the ground. Their eyes seemed locked on the standing man in shadows and like an upturned spider he or she continued to push their way backward into the street. The scene played out so fast and the smaller person broke their gaze with the man and looked at me, then closed their eyes.

                “They looked like a teen… they looked like…my god is that a…?”

                INSTINCT: That primal force roared inside, slamming into, and taking over my mind. Seizing control of my body, yanking the steering wheel, and slamming on the brakes compelled by that instinctual need to avoid causing harm at all costs. Panic flooded through me, I watched from behind my eyes, the headlights of my car wildly changing direction and losing sight of the figure disappearing into the darkness of my periphery. My tires screeched against the wet pavement and the car careened forward, there was a loud pop that came from behind me, the rear fender my enhanced awareness knew. I continued to veer losing control of the vehicle, hydroplaning further down the street ending with a bang as I collided with a parked car.

 

The man in shadow:

Dylan: I don’t know if I want to reveal his name or not.

            The oncoming car was unexpected, He had been too focused on his runaway kitten for the past hour and little else held his attention. It was a marvel that the wooden crate he had thrown hit his mark, smashing into, and knocking her over. A marvel since he was only just now starting to sober up. He still had it, and the run through the night had helped to clear his mind too. Still, the little shit had dared to try and run from him. He still was not sure how she managed it. One moment he had taken her into the back alley to do her business like any good owner, and the next his head split like a quart of firewood. Later, one of his friends shook him back to consciousness but by then his kitten was nowhere to be found.

            Interior lights revealed a person moving in the crashed car, “Dam it,” the man cursed under his breath, retreating further back into the shadows of the alley and the new scene unfolded, “a potential witness.” The wreck was bound to bring more unwanted attention and being seen was too risky. “How could things have gone so wrong?”

            He had been the life of the party; club night had gone so well. His kitten performed as expected and he reveled in the compliments and jealousy from the others. “This is how a proper pet should act when trained correctly,” he showboated leading his kitten around on elbows and knees while he bragged. He kept the part of how he had trained her to himself, after all anything was possible with enough money. So much easier to pay someone else to do that and take the credit, but his friends did not need to know that. They seemed content in exploring her hidden treasures to ask about the how; too absorbed in taking their pleasures to comment or chide him too much on the bruising.

            It should have gone on like that into the early hours of the morning but no. Instead of what was supposed to be a night of acclaim and fun, he was hiding in the dark, cold, and wet. And he seethed with rage towards his disobedient pet. "I thought I had beaten that out of her," he muttered to himself. He already missed it; the thrill of his cravings being satisfied, to have total power, and control over someone, someone to bring his dark fantasies to life. He had had her, his girl, his property, his kitten gave him all that he wanted. Then the ungrateful cunt made it to the street, and he had no clue if she was still alive after the car tried to swerve in time but still managed to collide into her outstretched arm, maybe even her head.

            He waited at the mouth of the alleyway unsure of what to do. Matters had quickly grown complicated, and he understood one thing; he was now at risk, they all were. He was on his own, the others had split up in the search and he needed to act fast. Whether alive or dead he needed to remove the evidence and if necessary, silence any potential witnesses. A sly idea came to him then, “ If I can just grab the bitch and disappear into the night, leave no trace for any potential investigation. It was not his role in the club but if he could nip this in the bud then the danger would drastically reduce.

            He had to chance it, sweep in, grab her body, and run into the night. Disposal would be easy enough later he thought bitterly annoyed by the prospect of having to buy another pet. He sent a hastily written text on his phone and began to move, stepping from his place when a woman frantically emerged from the vehicle causing him to tense and freeze in place.

            “A woman, it’s just a woman, alone.” She seemed too big for a woman to him. He had to decide, and he thought quickly, forcing his panic away. “It’s just a woman, nothing I can’t handle.”

            “Nothing I have not had to do in the old days.”

His gaze flickered to the still form of his kitten lying crumpled on the pavement. He had to get to him, had to reclaim what was his. But the woman was too close now, crouching by the boy, checking his injuries.

            So, shes one of them, and he was filled with hate as he made his move.

Come back to the yello later, try and make it work and if not delete

 

 

Mary    

                To short, need a bit more hereMy heart raced as I labored to catch my breath. Since leaving the Ult-Way the drive had been uneventful and quiet. But suddenly swerving and crashing into a parked sedan was the last thing I imagined could happen. The collision was jarring, causing my body to fly forward and my bones rattled when a cushion of air caught me before my face slammed into the wheel.

                My vision swam, and a guttural groan full of anguish and pain escaped my lips, the impact of the crash reverberating through my body. The throbbing in my head intensified, like the relentless beat of a drum pounding against my skull. But despite the airbag deploying into my face, my mind remained sharp and alert. There was someone hurt and in need and the desire to give my care was immense. But in that desire, guilt was there also, crashing and flooding into my Big space like a tidal wave.

                “Did I hit a… a,” I could not finish the thought, I would not name the fear.

                Then the shock struck me, that I was responsible, “I… I did that. It was me, I had hurt, no I had harmed a…person; wait did I kill?” The realization left me in a state of denial, loosening the control my instincts had just held. Both halves of my mind that comprised my big space fell out of sync, the fear of what I might find out there, what I had done paralyzed me into inaction.

                That space felt empty for a time, a sensation I had not felt since before the gene activated inside of me two decades ago. Then my instincts made the first move and rebounded back into place catching that tidal wave of guilt pushing it away. My Instincts surfed the wave back into the control center of my brain and hammered into place taking charge. Instinct does not tolerate ideas like harm and hurt, and they were upset that I was not already moving as they screamed at me to help. My instincts kicked at me like a storm that assailed all my senses leaving me winded and then both halves of my mind fell back into place as I recovered, and clarity returned.

                Pulling my head out of the deflated airbag, I sat back in my seat, flexing my muscles and twisting my joints, assessing my own injuries. Thankfully, saved for the pain in my head, the injuries felt minor. My Instincts took the lead, the compulsion to render medical aide flooded my mind and I began to move without thought. My arms twitched, one reaching for the release to the seat belt the other for my phone.

System: “Call 911, I am declaring an emergency, send an ambulance.” I spoke with a cracked voice, my mouth dry giving the command, and I opened the door with a frantic push.

                My mind was in a frenzy as I stepped out into the frigid night, my shoes landing in a puddle, sending icy water splashing up around me. "What have I done? Please let them be okay," I pleaded silently desperate for hope and reassurance. My heart pounded in my chest as I walked in the cold rain on stiff legs, but I quickly found my footing. My world focused and un-focused in cadence with my heartbeat. I breathed, the air in my lungs exploding into vapor inches past my face and I looked around myself taking in the surroundings. I knew there were at least two people about, but I could not find them Making my way back up the darken road from where I had come, and my eyes quickly adjusted to the dark. The world around me came back into focus, each detail becoming sharp and vivid. The air was thick with the pungent smell of garbage from somewhere and the distant sounds of cars seemed muffled by the rushing water pouring from the sky.

                I scanned my surroundings again, searching for any sign of life. There had to be someone out here with me, but where were they? My eyes darted back and forth as I made my way down the darkened street. And then, like a beacon, I saw it - a small cloud of warm breath hovering low above the ground; may as well have been a blazing firework display before my instinct enhanced sight and I quickly closed the distance. Rushing forward, filled with desperate urgency I could make out a figure lying in the street. Partially covered by a long grey hoodie that nearly reached their knees, one arm free from its sleeve and lay bare by their side exposing pail flesh in the dim light of a distant streetlamp.

                I waded through another puddle and knelt beside the figure, carefully brushing aside wet and matted hair to see their face. The faces small, delicate even – they could easily be a teenager? Or perhaps even a… The thought sent shivers down my spine and my mind reeled at the implications. But I brushed aside those dark thoughts and focused on the task at hand.

                The cloud of air was a good indication of breathing, but I reached for their wrist to be certain as instinct focused in my fingertips. Yes, a pulse. "You're going to be okay," I said with a tremble in my voice, hoping that my words would bring some small comfort. "Help is on the way, just stay with me, can you hear me? What’s your name? My name is Mary and you’re going to be all right.”

                He did not respond or so much as move, but blue eyes touching on grey, passively stared back at me as I spoke. He seemed to see past me for a moment, then his eyes moved nearly imperceptibly struggling to find their focus. I leaned closer and tried to speak more comforting words. I could not determine the gender by their face alone, hair that long seemed to indicate a girl, but the gaunt and bruised face resembled that of a guy to me. But it was their partial exposed flat chest that gave me some initial indication when I knelt down.

                I stared back at him; I couldn't help but feel overwhelming remorse as I gently stroked his wet hair. "Please forgive me," I whispered, tears wanted to fall as I realized the gravity of my actions. "I never meant for this to happen, I never meant to hurt you. Then my instincts took in the rank smell of fear that drenched out of every pore of his body. The pieces of what lay before me seemed incongruent for what I had done. Blackened eyes, bruises and scratches scattered over his face. His hoody was stained and caked with some filth and grease, and the free sleeve was amassed around his neck under some pink thing.

                I examined the mass of cloth, freeing the sleeve from the pink thing expecting some horrible wound but what I found was much worse. There around his neck, was a pink collar, lock, and some odd box contraption that laid on blackened burnt and cracked skin.

                My heart skipped a beat at the unexpected dark find and the glint of a tag caught my eye. The writing was small but even in the low light I clearly made out a word; It simply read “Kitten.”

                “Kitten? Like some pet?”

                Judging by his size, the guy seemed too young to be a part of something like that. His face seemed both mature and juvenile at the same time and guessing his age or status was impossible to determine. One arm twitched ever so faintly from the corner of my eye and the other bent at a jarring angle.  One of his legs seemed wrong somehow and his feet like his hands, deeply discolored and bruised. Then things became darker as I noticed the deeply ingrained and raw scars around both wrists in an odd but constant pattern.

                I continued my assessment as I pulled the bottom of his hoody up, and I glanced down, my gaze swept over him. Information came to me in an instant, but my instincts settled on the device between his legs first. Being small did not obstruct from the cruelty of the device and like the collar it also was pink with a lock dangling from it.  The device said something to me, sure it was sometimes used in what some might call spicy bedroom fun or a scene that I was aware of but never looked into. But at **** cage, I could not call it for what it was. So, he is a boy, I now knew for sure, but that device combined with scars from some restraint and what I had already witnessed, spoke to a greater horror.

                 Though horrified at what I was seeing, the suggestion of bruises crisscrossed his abdomen and ribs leaving the impression of a quilt of clouds in blacks, purples, and yellows. His ribs were overly defined pushing tightly against his skin and I wanted to hurl from the sight of what I knew was abuse and starvation. I reached for the bottom of the hoody trying to bring it down, giving it a small pull trying to cover him.

                My heart had long frozen in my chest at the sight, this was not all my doing , someone else had hurt him apart from the collision. “How could someone do this? How could someone hurt a small-one?”

                The revelation on some level, let go of some of the guilt that had washed over me from earlier. But the reality that I faced spoke of trauma and deep sadness and I could find no relief from the responsibility I still felt. My instincts for once had no answer and seemed to slow and dim at the assessment. Like me, they were aghast and shocked at what they found. The only coherent impulse on that side of my mind told me what I already knew.  I was prepared to give first aid, but this was beyond that. He was too injured to be moved.

                I came back to his face, grief exploded inside me. Not for what I had done but what had been so horrific and obviously been done to him. I looked back into his eyes pitifully and I wanted to comfort him again, I wanted to help him, but I did not know what to do other than wait for help to arrive.

                I reached to gently pat his head again, but out of my periphery I noticed movement, even heard their footfalls with my enhanced hearing. Before even looking a chill ran down my spine, “The other person,” I thought and the memory of the small one backing away from the man came to me. My instincts rotated away from the grief inside myself, and an edge of fear pierced me. No, not just fear, danger.

                This person had more than likely caused most of the damage to him or knew who did. Someone had the stomach to do this to the young guy. No not a guy, a boy, a little boy. My instincts rotated again centering on the thought, fearing the idea that he was “a little boy”. The fear I felt from the threat of danger dissolved and ignited into rage and primal desire, a burning need to protect that came from both places in my Big space and my heart.

                Was he a little? I did not actually know for sure, but the thought had stoked a fire inside of me; and it did not matter, no one should do this to another human being.

 

                If only a car would drive by to shed its light on the street to spook the man away. Or a good-natured onlooker that I could call out for help so I would not have to be alone. “I wish you were here Robert,” I thought with bitter longing. Wishing for Robert would not help me, he was already in the air. Help would be nice, but the thought was a luxury of wasted time I did not have, a life was hanging by a thread, and I had no choice and I needed to act. There was no one else to keep the boy safe and I knew it had to be me. Despite the rage I felt, I had my priorities to consider, to maximize the odds, even if it came too late. And without thinking I acted as my phone tightened in my grip…

                System: Send a priority message to Mom, “Mom, I am in danger, I need you now, find me. life or death,”  I whispered fearfully into the night and my adrenaline began to surge.

                System: Send a message to Theodore and Megan, “A little and I are in danger, find us. Life or death. I may or may not have my phone.” Switching my cell to silent, I tucked my phone into the pocket of the little guy’s hoody, hoping that the worst outcome would not happen.

                My words where grim when I activated the system but well chosen, I knew how they would react, I new a search would begin in minutes on top of my call to 911, and if I failed… well I could not think on that. I wasn’t overreacting, I knew that a threat had emerged from the shadows, I knew it in my bones, inside my big space, I knew it with every fiber of my being. I took a deep breath as I rose to stand,  stepping over my unexpected charge, I planted my feet and waited.

                The thing about instinct is that it’s terrifying. Most people just think it makes us Bigs the ultimate caretaker, but it’s more than that, so much more than that. Instinct does not push fear away, no, it compels us to act without regard for ourselves. It is a compulsion, and when compelled, we still feel fear and there is no telling what shape we will be in after instinct takes over. But the broken mass of humanity behind me pulled a trigger in me, and I knew this was a hill I would gladly die on with or without them.

                I stared into the oncoming darkness as the man stopped his skulking ten feet away. A tall and muscular man with broad shoulders, his face hidden behind some odd and perverse looking mask or hood, giving the impressions of horns above his head. Arms bulged under his leather jacket, and I sized him up with a glance.  He was taller than me by an inch or two, maybe 6’6”, almost as tall as Robert . The majority of my instincts where on him and every warning sounded in my Big space. He was not some passerby; he was dangerous and no doubt a threat. Then my instincts shifted, and a red door to an unknown space opened in my mind.

                This was the first time I had ever felt the shift, my instincts stepping over the red line that was implanted years ago. They no longer held back any desire to cause harm or pain if necessary to protect the little guy behind my feet - and neither did I.

                "Who are you? Stay back" I commanded with as much confidence and authority as I could muster, trying to buy a few extra precious seconds of time until help arrived. He seemed to be sizing me up, the way he glanced at me, his eyes lingering on my footwear – Tennis shoes as if looking for a reason to explain my height away. He stood there for several long moments. He made as if to stare me down but the twitch in his eyes told me he was looking at the boy and then back at me as if considering something.

                My question was ignored, but with a sneer he growled, his voice rough, deep, and slightly slurred "Let me guess, you're one of those freaks, a big if I had to guess. Don’t worry about who I am, just return my property and leave. I promise to forget you.” His tone was mocking, and I did not need instincts to tell me he was lying.”

                “Well, you are right I am a Big, so you know that is not going to happen,” I responded evenly not betraying the mounting fear that weighed heavily on one side of my mind. “And if what you mean by property is him,” I did not take my eyes of him as I spoke. “Then you are sick.”

                A cold metallic glint appeared in his hand, his response chilling. "It's been a while since I killed  someone but whether you're big or not, you're still just a woman and alone," Terror threatened to overtake me as I stared into his unfeeling eyes at his comment. I wanted to run away, but it was as if I was held in place by an invisible hand; forced to put myself between the danger and the boy.

                For Bigs, time does not stop, it does not freeze or slow down, we react with out thinking. Where it comes from is hard to define it’s just what nature intended when it dreamed us up. He moved, as if to strike like lightning without warning, he made his advance.

                 And I gave in, all of my innermost being, I knelt in the deep to that Big space that I had feared all my life; and surrendered to it completely, it was my only chance to keep the boy safe and mine.

                 Diving deep, I melted away and my instincts took over, reaching a level of awareness that I had never known before. I saw how he moved, felt the cold wet night, tasted the air, heard the rain drops and splashing puddles as he charged. Now eight steps away I could smell the alcohol perspiring through his skin, I heard the small heart beating behind my feet, and I was now a passenger strapped into the roller coaster that was my instincts. It was like I left my body, observing the world like a movie that played before my eyes ,experiencing and feeling every moment of it.

                Seven steps: An explosion of instinct went off inside my Big space, and it had it all. Everything. My strength, senses, even my memories. They crashed into my Space like a bomb going off, then he stepped again.

                Six steps: All my experiences and knowledge unfolded like a sheet, and my mind accessed everything I had ever learned since I became a Big. How to defend myself, and more importantly how to protect the smaller things of this world.

                 Five steps: “Mary pay attention,” my name caused me to recoil in embarrassment as I sat in my middle school classroom. That annoying lecture everyone had to hear on the gene, and like everyone else it scared me.

                “Can you explain both sides of the gene?”

                My classmates tried to hide their muffled outburst of laughter since they were not the focus of Mr. Jenkins contempt. I stood, fumbling, doing my best to answer him calmly while I ignored my classmates poorly disguised teasing.

                “Littles, the gene triggers in puberty, and they are small in nature. The gene stunts their growth on average by six to eight inches, and they have a need to be taken care of, a deep compulsion for safety and comfort. A person can be thought to be little if they develop a littlespace and their mind regresses and often gets locked at a younger mental age that is decided on genetics as well as their upbringing.”

                “For the Bigs, it also develops in puberty and their size unlike littles is not stunted. It accelerates. And they are on average six to eight inches taller than they would have been without the gene. They are caregivers, nurturers, and deeply protective. They also develop a Big space that houses and enhances their instincts and it usually takes a few years after the triggering to form and solidify. “

                “Lastly, for everyone else, if the gene does not trigger a head space, they are just normal and regular people.”

Four steps: I was in high school when the gene made its presence known. It was a given that I was one since I towered over all my peers. But height is not enough to be a Big, you need instincts for that.  That day, something tore inside my mind and a second place almost like a second brain or consciousness formed in my head and mended its self-back together. The pain was excruciating, the new space flexing and firing signals throughout my body without rhyme or reason.

                 Some poor underclassman was in the process of being stuffed into a locker as I turned into the hallway for my next class. It happened suddenly, impulses fired erratically, and I was running through the halls, half stumbling, and shouting like a lunatic at the scene that was before me to put a stop to it.

                My need to protect and comfort them was so strong I lost myself to my budding nature and when I came back to myself, I found that poor student in my arms fighting frantically to escape my hold.

                “Shushh, it’s going to be ok little one, you’re safe now,” my words had an alarming effect on them and they were anything but comforting. Everyone was staring mouth open, as the younger student protested, demanding me to let go of them, eyes filled with terror screaming, “stop it, I am not a little.”

                I felt stupid, and stammered for anyone to listen, that I could not help myself.

                Three steps: the summer before I graduated from high school,

                                That’s when my instincts started to solidify. Compelling me to prepare, though it never had the decency to explain what I was preparing for. The morning runs, hours at the gym, the new crazy diet I found my self on that came out of no were.

                I had no direction and I felt like I was stumbling in the dark not knowing what I was doing or why I was doing it. I was required to enroll into special classes over the break. More experienced Bigs, trying to help us newbies learn how to live-in harmony with our instincts. No one ever said learn how to control them, they could not be controlled, at least not fully. The best I could hope for was finding a fragile balance between me and them.

                Two steps: College.

                Basically, all Bigs go to college. Further education was an instinctual need, and we really did not have a choice as it was mandated by law.

                The countless courses I took and retook. Everything from CPR, first aid, Fire management and safety, Water safety, lifeguard training, Home safety, public safety, Little care, child care, infant care, elder care, prescription drug management, anatomy, pet aid, diet for Bigs, diet for littles, diet for infants and children, prenatal care, financial management, counseling classes, psychology, physical education, health and hygiene, security awareness, Defensive driving,  and self-defense. My instincts were insatiable, and the list went on and on.

 

                One step: How many years had I done this now?

                Conditioning my body for a potentiality that might never come. It was stupid and boring, and pointless. Lessons on this and that, how to move your weight. The old geezers spoke like we were all the chosen one, like we were some Mythical creature. It was so frustrating. All the running, hitting bags, and practicing endless scenarios two to three days a week.

                I had to relearn those things with mom after growing soft after it happened. A need to contribute and make the world a little better after what I had been through. It had been years since I had put the same level of focus into my training. Not since then, since the depression and the anguish of losing a child.

                So much easier to be shut in, not putting myself out there and risking again. But the compulsion brought me back to becoming a part time babysitter; to meeting robert and his little girl. The compulsion brought it all back, all the memories and knowledge in a moment.

____________________________________________________________________________________

                I was already screaming like a banshee at the top of my lungs before he even threw his arm out at me.

                “You don’t hurt the small ones.”

                The small blade came forward towards my chest and rising arms. His wrist seemed to find my hand like a well time dance, shifting my weight to the side and yanking him along, twisting his wrist and pushing his shoulder with my other hand he stumbled on what I knew were half drunken feet. A clattering sound echoed between us in the night, he righted himself before he stumbled, and I pivoted on my feet, keeping myself between him and the boy.

                “Fucking bitch”, he screamed with a snarl as he came at me again with a fist raised throwing a punch at my face.

                My forearm shot up, sending his punch off course and a moment later his other fist crashed into my shoulder. It hurt but the pain was not the problem; I stumbled off balance, straining to not step on the injured boy.

                He came again from another angle as I struggled to right myself; I managed to find my balance as a fist rocketed into the side of my face and another into my abdomen.

                I tried to gasp but the wind had been knocked out of me and it was all I could do to stay on my feet as I staggered from the pain.

                Another fist came at me, and my instincts drove me forward to shorten the distance, trying to tackle, trying to grapple at anything I could get my hands on. The punch landed with little effect glancing off my breast as I moved close into his center.

                I managed to get him in a bear hug, desperately trying to catch and recover my breath. But reaching into his center was a mistake as he shrugged off my embrace and pried my hands from himself. His strength was greater than mine. Obviously, he had some level of training, and it didn’t matter that the gene had enhanced my muscle and bone density. I was fighting an uphill battle and above my weight class at that.

                He broke my hold, and I stomped out into the street to catch my balance; puddles exploded and splashed nearly causing me to slip on the wet pavement.

                He gripped my forearm, and I tried to twist out of it and break the hold, straining to pry him loose. He moved in tight, throwing an upper cut that fell flat on my chin. Pain erupted inside, and my anxiety and fear hit the roof, but I growled and bit through the pain.

                I twisted again trying to escape his grasp, but his grip was like a vice. He threw another punch, but I weaved around it, managing to get my elbow into his side, the strike glancing off one of his ribs. He faltered for a moment but in that time, I stepped back into his center grabbing his shoulder with my free hand. My knee came up like a missile, and I pulled myself into him with all the strength I could leverage out of my upper body sending my knee into his most vulnerable spot, my firm and hard kneecap into soft and dangling testicles.

                He released his hold and doubled over howling in pain but to my surprise he did not drop like a sack, instead of falling he dove forward reaching around my waist trying to pull me off my feet. We stumbled together locked in a struggle of wills, him trying to leverage his lower center of gravity with his shoulder into me, me on top grappling trying to force him into the ground.

                I withdrew a leg, letting his coiled force go forward underneath me and I bent forward and over him staying on top, letting him do the work as he crashed into the ground. My instincts were on him, save for the small amount I could spare to know where the boy was.  I quickly turned and came up behind him grabbing his arm and his neck, locking them down.

                He yelled, he screamed, and his wet and smooth jacketed arm threatened to slip out of my grasp. But I had him, he bucked and strained violently but his free arm did not have the leverage to loosen my hold on his neck and I had his other arm pinned in my armpit and twisted painfully behind his back. His free arm flailed out helplessly unable to find purchase on any vital spot and I was determined to hold him until help arrived.

                Then Searing flame stabbed into my arm, it was sudden, the pain wicked and intense, causing me to let go of my hold on him as I screamed and rolled away.

                I was panting as I struggled to my feet, bringing up my arm just enough to notice the knife sticking out of it. My head jerked back as I came back to my feet, my scalp stung as my hair felt like it was being ripped from my head. And his arm snaked up from behind wrapping itself tightly around my throat his other hand let go of my hair and pushed my head forward in to the crook of his arm.

                I was already panting but suddenly I couldn’t breathe. I panicked, internally I flipped out, “he has me,” I thought. But my instincts knew what to do, it didn’t matter that hysteria had taken over half of my mind, thinking I was going to black out and I was going to die and then the boy.

                In a single motion I bent my knees lowering my body, my chin tucked as deeply into the crook of his arm as I could force it, I reached back over my head swiftly pulling at the arm from behind as hard as I could; and with a step forward and small rotation of my body I continued to pull his captured arm sending him rolling and sprawling across my back and over the side into the pavement.

                He landed on his back, momentarily dazed, and confused, as if he could not figure out why he was looking up into the sky. I was granted a few seconds to gulp in air, coughing violently from escaping his stranglehold.

                But then, he rolled and stood up, just as breathless and exhausted as me. However, I noticed with horror that he had fallen too close to the boy. My instincts kicked into overdrive, and I abandoned all defense, charging at him with all my strength in an attempt to create distance between them.   He did not step back or plant his feet like I thought he would, instead he charged also. He lashed out with an open palm, and I sidestep closer to the boy. His hands were more lethal than his fist and knew if he got a firm hold my chances would be slim to none.

                I dodged again and sent a counter punch uselessly into his thick and muscular chest before retreating the few feet I could spare. We locked eyes and he smiled at me.

                “I thought you said you were a big, surely if you where you would have won by now, he mocked but I focused on my breathing choosing not to waste my air on words. Truth was I was not at my best for this fight, but neither was he; and we both knew it.

                He stepped in and he must have misjudged his distance when he sent a punch towards my face. The punch seemed slow to me, slower than before. All that muscle was great in a bout of strength, but it was horrible when it came to stamina. I brought a fist up to block him and jabbed him in the face, I weaved the oncoming strike and got another in. I changed it up with a left cross and threw a punch in rapid succession. The combo took its toll on me, as I again struggled to catch my breath. He staggered through my assault, unable to doge, finally having to tank the blows as he could not keep up with my speed.

                He tried to throw me off with a half-committed punch. I Had not practiced in years, but it came back to me. Grabbing his wrist as I rotated my body turning my back into him, bending my knees again and his balance was just right as I let his momentum carry him over my shoulder, flipping him back onto his back.

                This had to end, and I did not hesitate. The red line had been crossed; I was allowed to step through that red door in my big space. My instincts for the first time ever were freed from the implanted suggestion and for once they allowed me to not just defend or protect, they allowed me to cause pain.

                 I came in while he was still on the ground, my heal finding a satisfactory crack between two of his ribs, I took no pleasure from his cries of pain, but I could not leave a threat breathing that close to the boy. I followed up with a jump,  dropping both my knees down, I fell upon him from above. Knocking the wind from him and God knows what else. I did in fact know; those years of anatomy came back to me. It was like I could see his organs and bones through his skin as I crashed down with all my wight with some of my hardest bones into his gut.

                His torso went nearly vertical when I slammed into him. His soundless shrieks somehow managed to find my ears. How weird not to feel pity for someone in pain, I thought as I helped to break my fall with a roll to the side. Well, how odd for a big at least.

                My knees throbbed, my hands throbbed, everything throbbed but I knew the threat was mostly gone. But my instinct still held complete sway over me. I retreated to the boy, watching the man writhing pain as he used the remaining strength he had to crawl away.

                There was a part of me that wanted to end the threat, but I knew he was nearly defenseless. And My instincts could only tolerate so much time over that red line. The boy was what mattered, and he was safe.

                I watched as he dragged himself into the darkness of the alley, I waited a long minute watching as my eyes pierced the darkness, he was still moving away, “good”.

                 I remained standing, several minutes passed before I felt like I could breathe simi normally. I stood and waited in case he came back but he had moved even beyond my sight. Then I heard it, the distant sound of emergency vehicles, how far away I could not tell, but I knew help would arrive soon. I looked down at my arm, the knife still sticking out, the pain was horrible, but I left it alone. Despite the pain it was better to not pull it free and risk blood loss.

                I retreated again to the far side of the small guy to kneel by his side, good, he was still breathing, and to my surprised at least semi-conscious. I kept my eyes on the alleyway, crouching over him. The emergency sirens grew louder, and my instinct finally allowed me to shift from the part that makes Bigs protectors to that of a caregiver.

                My heart was still racing, its beat echoing loudly in my ears. My voice softened to a soothing and tender tone, and I whispered over him, “Its ok little guy, Your safe now. He won’t be coming back I promise.”

                “I got you.”

                I reached out to him, gently threading my fingers through his hair whispering what soothing words I could find, forcing myself to believe them.

                I looked into his distant eyes, my wet hair fell onto his cheeks, wishing that being Big gave me the power to just make everything better. Wishing that I could make the hurt and booboos go away.

                “Your safe, I won’t let anything bad happen to you. I’ll take care of it, ill take care of you, will get you fixed up don’t worry I’m here.”

                I kept looking at him hoping for a reaction to my words, but he seemed far away. I put on a brave face hidden behind a mask of assurance, I wanted to convey all the comfort I could, but I did not even know if he could hear me.

                So long as he was alive, it was ok if he couldn’t hear me, then I started to hum. I hummed the melody that I learned years ago and waited, keeping the entrance to the alleyway in the corner of my eye.

[I got you]

i am about done with chapter 2, need to go back to fix up chapter 1 at somepoint

 

[I got you]

so this is my first attempt at writing 1st pov. i feel like this is way to short, i was aiming for like 12 pages for chapter 1, but i did not want to give certain things away. I feel like this chapter just went by to quick. maybe its ok, but as a rule I would like chapters to be closer to 20 pages, i just don't think it works fir this chapter, so if i can get a few more pages out of this i  would be very happy. Any helpful feed back for writing 1st pov would be greatly helpful to me. also, this is edited but i consider it a first draft. would also like to know what you thought, how can i improve this. this story starts out dark but is meant to build into brighter and cuddlier scenes. just got to get there.

 

[I got you]

 

WARNING!!! This story has some incredibly dark content and themes. So much so I felt that the responsible thing was to warn you ahead of time, decide for yourself if this Abdl work of fiction is for you. If you have similar past trauma this book might not be for you. You have been warned.

               

                I hate to spoil this for you, but I want to share with you the gist of the plot so you can decide if you want to read it or not. The story starts off with the main character running for their life. They just escaped, and the situation is godawful. In short, he escaped a sex trafficking victim, I would go so far as to say he just survived being a sex slave by some horrible people. The amount of damage done is so extensive that it’s going to take years to recover from the physical abuse alone, much longer for other things.

               

                The character escapes and by a chance of fate, he meets a woman who saves him. The book will center on recovering from the trauma, regression will happen quickly enough, and he chooses to live a much simpler and smaller life while his soul heals from the abuse. I don’t want to give everything away, but it’s bad, worse, and then downright wrong and evil. But it will have a happy ending.

               

                Other than healing from his injuries, there is a plot that will build up later. When Bigs go to war with a human trafficking ring that is constantly on the hunt for littles, things might get interesting and intense.

 

                This world is the same one I have already written( not yet published anywhere), it’s just an alternative reality and darker story for the main character. I’ll try to add the relevant information into the story naturally so everyone who reads this won’t be lost. This is not the DD, it’s an alternative earth. It’s the earth we all know, just one minor difference that happened in the past about 100 years ago. It’s the gene, the thing that makes littles or Bigs. The history of this earth will be remarkably like the one you know. But the Gene does not come into this story as much as my other one so it should be ok if you are new to my world.

 

                There will be NO outright descriptions of the sexual abuse, but the MC is traumatized from it, there will be things related to it though. Mostly the mc trying to recover from what had happened.

 

All character are over the age of 18

 

                Come back to this and do this warning right and tagged for the things that matter. But nothing in this posting is descriptive as it’s just the first chapter.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Intro

 

                Forget fear!!!

                This is Terror, traumatized little kid kind of fear that claws at your chest and squeezes your heart until it feels like it might explode. It's the kind of fear that makes you scream for your mommy and daddy after watching that horror movie that you are way too little for. You know how it goes. You try to be big and brave; you try to pretend that the monster hunting the kid on screen is no big deal because you know it’s not real…right?

                You try to be brave, and you insist that you were not that scared. But no one is fooled when they see you clutching your teddy bear and shaking under that blanket that dad said you were too old to carry around. Your heart is racing, and you struggle to catch your breath. You’re frozen in panic, and you are not fooling anyone kid. 

                Maybe your parents or older siblings laughed as they checked your closet and under your bed for monsters that you keep on insisting you know are not real before tucking you in with a reassuring hug and kiss. But once they leave, the paranoia sets in. The nightlight provides little comfort as it casts eerie shadows around your room, making every corner of your room seem sinister. The gentle sway of tree branches outside your window becomes a haunting dance in the moonlight, projecting twisted arm-like shapes on your wall reaching for you. And every creak and groan of the house sounds like a monster creeping closer.

                Take my advice and let go of that big girl or big boy pride and call your mommy and daddy, just don’t go to sleep. Nothing good is going to follow because there are things that exist beyond terror, a higher dimension of fear that few will ever experience.

                Nightmare: Well, it was going to happen, you made a lot of poor choices tonight. The worst part? Nightmares are real in their own twisted way.  At least until you wake up and have proof to the contrary. But those monsters almost had you, as you wake up in a cold sweat. But you’re safe now, you’re awake and it’s not real.

                Warm and moist air breathed down onto your face and neck, and time stops as your face to face with the nightmare that is not supposed to be real. It’s staring at you and even mommy and daddy can’t save you now.

                When monsters become reality, you pray for an angel to save you as there’s no waking up from the horrors that await. As you feel something hot and sharp piercing through your skin, you realize that sometimes, monsters do come for us in our sleep and there's nothing we can do but scream because it's too late.

************************************************************************                 

 

 

 

I Got You

SanguineReader

Chapter 1: Terror or Get to the Light                        

                “Move!”

                “Dam it, Move!”

                Keep moving, at least make the bastards work for it…

                “Forget fear, Let the pain Motivate you, move it or you’re going to die, move!”

                The night clung to the city like a shroud, smothering every alley and street corner with its impenetrable blackness. My breath came in ragged gasps, a desperate rhythm syncing with the pounding of my heart as I fled, turning into another alleyway of the city. Each footfall was a muffled thud against the cold and wet concrete, the only sound on these streets as I quietly skulked on.

                I darted past shadowy buildings, their looming forms indifferent witnesses to my plight. The darkness seemed to reach for me with long, cold fingers, urging me back to the horrors I'd just escaped. But the monster, that relentless pursuer, propelled me forward. Adrenaline surged through my veins, a bitter cocktail of terror and resolve that kept my legs moving when they begged to collapse.

                The city was unfamiliar, a twisted maze of back streets that felt alive. Every turn was a gamble, each choice a potential trap. My eyes flickered from one darkened alley to the next, searching for a sign, any indication of a safe path. But the city offered no refuge—only more shadows, only more of the unknown.

                My body was a map of pain, bruises painting my skin in shades of purple, blues, and blacks—a canvas of abuse that stretched across my flesh. The pain was layered, on both the surface and deep within. Each movement sent fresh waves of agony coursing through me, a cruel reminder of what I had endured. Yet it was that very pain that fueled my determination, a grim assurance that I was still alive, still capable of fighting for my life and  freedom.

                As I stumbled onward, the chilling embrace of the night air seared my lungs, but I welcomed the burn. It kept me anchored to the present, to the reality of my situation, away from the memories that clawed at the edges of my mind, threatening to drag me back into the abyss of despair. “Don’t think just move” thinking to myself again.

                How long has it been since I decided to run? A rare opening presented itself earlier and I got away. Had it been an hour or less? Keeping track of time was beyond me. Yes, maybe it had been that long. But I had managed to escape, I got away from my captors and I was safe. “Yeah right,” I was anything but safe. Still, they were not hurting me, degrading me. I… I no longer had to act or fake it, if I could just get away, far away and past their clutches.

                Crap, I started thinking.

                Then the reality of my situation hit me, I had nowhere to go, no plan, no one I could trust, no one I could call for help. Tears came then, washed away by the cold rain and I felt warm despite the weather from what I hoped was not the start of a fever. My mind grew numb at the thought of my prospects and my thinking had grown erratic and uncoordinated.

                I noticed a dumpster ahead with its plastic lid bent backwards and open. The lid made a sharp angle with the ground, maybe a good place to hide and rest I thought. Thinking was slow and I wanted to stop. With difficulty my mind urged me to keep going, but I was so tired and in so much pain and the thought of a brief respite tempted me. I limped and staggered my way to the back of the dumpster walking teetering on the heels of my bare feet.

                I managed to leverage a long green plastic sheet and several broken wooden pallets to the side gap of the lid of the dumpster. It was still dark, and I had yet to be found and I hoped that the garbage would obscure me from any pursuers.

“Maybe it was a good place to hide” I hoped ignoring the urgency my mind sent down in waves through the circuits and nerves of my body giving in to the temptation to rest.

                 Taking shelter from the rain under the lid of the dumpster, I winced as I carefully slid down the side of the cold metal. Collapsed was more like it as my leg had given out again. I hurt, everywhere. There was something wrong with my hip. I could feel my bones grinding against each other as I had run into the night. And the pain in my hands and feet had returned and grown sharper by the minute as the adrenaline had worn off. My chest hurt but at least I could still breathe, and I was alive. I reached tenderly for my neck, giving it a gentle caress, trying to ignore what was there as I winced from the pain again.

                It was cold, so cold and wet. Running into the night naked on the back streets of God knows where. It was impossible but at least I was finally free for however long it’s going to last.

                Lost in my certainty that it was only a matter of time before they got me, my situation was grim, and I did not know what to do. The attempt to wrap my arms around myself, trying to bring my knees to my chest for some warmth ended in more pain. “Why try, why bother? This can only end one way.”

                Dropping my arms back down my useless hands felt something soft and to my surprise, dry. I turned my head and looked and found some cloth like thing. It was too dark to fully make it out, but I reached for it anyway. Forcing my hand to grab, my hand strength was near nonexistent as I forced myself to ignore the pain.

                Something dark scurried from the object and up my arm and disappeared into the darkness. The suddenness of the motion, the blur of the thing, and the feeling of tiny legs on my skin sent a shiver down my spine and a jolt of adrenaline into my heart. I was panting from the unexpected motion and nearly made it to my feet before my leg gave out again.

                Sitting again, I forced myself to be quiet, but I was in pain again. What else was new.

                “Deep breaths,” I tried to reassure myself.

                “It was probably a cockroach, and there are worse things than that out here.”

                I reached out for the cloth again and managed to drape it over my torso. And using what might as well be nubs, I used the palms of my hands to feel and explore the unknown thing. I felt a string somewhere in the dry mass, and a large pocket, I moved my hands deeper and felt long sleeves and in inner pocket. It was a hoodie. A small smile tugged at my lips, but it had been so long since I last smiled that I couldn't remember when it was.

                For several agonizing minutes I forced my arms into the sleeves, my fingers were useless as I tried to get the garment on. The sleeves fell well past the length of my arms. I dipped my head down into the bottom of the hoodie and wiggled my way up into it and the body of the hoody fell around me like a dress, but it covered me. Lastly, I used my wrists to squeeze the cloth and tried my best to bring the  hood up and over my head. Panting from the effort, no choice but to do my best and ignore the pain.

                “Finally. Clothes,” I thought. And then I cried ignoring the smell of what I was wearing, overcome with emotion at the dumpster miracle I had found. Sitting against the horrible stench of the dumpster, one last good thing and I was thankful for the unexpected symbol of dignity. I was probably not going to make it, but at least I would be covered I thought bitterly thinking on the last several months of horror I somehow survived as tears tried to fall but wouldn’t. I was too tired for tears and too dehydrated.

                The thought struck me, “I am going to die tonight,” and I began to shiver, and then I began to sob. Something scurried down my leg and my sobs increased, and my thoughts became hysterical. I am going to die and be thrown away like garbage, alone in the dark.

                “I might as well be…I am trash,” I whispered to no on in particular. This is where it’s going to end. Falling victim to depression is one thing but falling victim to the truth is another. All my strength was gone, it’s been more than a week since I was last fed, and I have nowhere to go.

“Fed,” I laughed. “Yeah, you had it so good” I mocked my own thoughts as I momentarily lost my sanity as I shivered in the cold when a mild wind blew. Alone in my despair, “no one is going to miss me when I go.”

                “Woosh.”

                I snapped my head to the left, adrenaline shooting again inside.

                “What was that?” Cowering in place, “did they find me?” I stared into the darkness and rain, looking but not seeing, for a long…

                “Woosh,” a sound and bright light moving in the darkness maybe less than a hundred feet away. My heart was beating loudly in my ears as the thing disturbed the falling cadence of the rain and the still of the alley.

                “Woosh,” another thing moved in the night. It took me a long minute to realize it was a car.

                “I must be near the street,” I thought as I pieced together what the sound and light was and Several minutes passed before my breathing evened out. “The street,” I thought. Cars, people, and help? But I could not move the fear gripped me, I could not think as I froze in terror.

                “What if they hurt me too?”

                Incredible and familiar pain seized my neck, and my body twitched and spasmed uncontrollably. A long and familiar 5 second blast of pure agonizing pain burned its way into my neck. My gums squeezing violently against my tongue. The smell of my flesh burning again as I fell over into a ball  withering and screaming. The sound seemed so loud bouncing off the lid and metal of the dumpster, sound waves bouncing back and forth.

                “Found you kitten, I would know those sweet screams of yours anywhere.” His chuckling taunt echoed somewhere down the alleyway I had been walking down a few minutes ago.

                My hand reached for the sturdy pink collar locked around my neck. But I could not even grab the metal prongs that were always there. I had no means of turning the prongs away to keep him from shocking me again. I tried to force as much of the sleeve of the hoody as I could into place between my overly burnt and cracked skin and the sadistic metal of the shock box and prong. Hoping against hope that it was enough to keep the prongs from arcing, preventing another painful blast into my broken body.

                My heart was a galloping horse, a runaway train. Adrenaline pumped again into my weary body, sending signals to my brain to run. But I was seized by the fear of this man. My blood had turned to ice and time slowed as I shook and trembled violently as I laid there on the cold pavement.

                “This is it,” I thought, my last coherent thought as the terror overtook me sending signals of panic to every muscle in my body. I don’t have the vocabulary for this, what is beyond terror? And suddenly I knew I was about to die. The Pain temporarily vanished like the sweetest dream you have ever had. Maybe an evolutionary trait, that fight or flight reflex that forces you to somehow endure, the body unwilling to give in to fate. My heart would not stop pounding and I was still frozen in fear.

                “Woosh.”

                A small light shone where I was hiding. And I had not just been found out, I had been located. I breathed, my body coiled, my body moved on its own without any input from me.  Abandoning my temporary save house falling on my face in the attempt, my desperation and panic driving me forward.

                This must be how a cockroach feels when you turn on the kitchen light in the middle of the night. You are surrounded in the protection of blissful darkness, and you can move around unseen. But then someone flips a switch, and all your little body knows is panic. Your every instinct scream at you to run and to hide.

                It does not help that whatever it is that disturbed the peacefulness of the darkness can step on you, smack you with something, or some other insane cruelty. Then smoosh. A roach wouldn’t even know. It would happen so fast. Roaches may be the most hated little critter that ever was, their mere existence a crime. It’s kind of unfair really. Roaches are quite defenseless, almost completely blind, and helpless. Kinda of like me.

                 Not feeling it, but my leg gave out again but like that cockroach, fuck it ill crawl if I have to. I scurried on my forearms and knees, pushing as hard as I could behind me propelling myself forward. scrambling up and out somehow forcing myself to stand and my leg held this time, and I ran. Not the slow and careful manner I had been doing before, on my heels, But on my broken toes as fast as I could.

                “Woosh.”

                The sound and lights of the cars were just ahead. The answer, my choice, my last choice before he got me again. I did not waste time thinking, it was the best chance I had. To make it end suddenly and finally.

                “The light, the light, get to the light,” that mantra blasted into every part of my brain as I moved. Something crashed into me as I dove forward past the sidewalk, landing on the curb. My torso was in the gutter, but I had managed to get an arm up in time to brace and protect my face as I crashed into the street.

                To my regret I took a moment to catch my breath and looked behind me as a raised boot lifted high and it began to fall like a hammer over an anvil in the air. And then time stopped. The rain drops froze in place and all was quiet.

                They say your life flashes before your eyes at the end. And my life began to play.

                Memories came to me like a reel of film projected before my eyes in the air amongst the frozen rain drops. Twenty years of experience compressed into a single point and my life replayed itself in that frozen moment of time.

                The slide show was too short, I only had a few happy years on this earth. The oldest memories played but they were too vague, degraded by time. My early years passed by quickly as details became more vivid, the scope of the slide show grew as I watched my self-grow up, my understanding of the world keeping up with the pace of the growing details.

                The reel slowed to one of the last good memories I had. Before it all changed when I was six. The days that followed were the worst, and in some ways worse than the horrors that were chasing me.

 My mommy was there, my daddy too and even my little sister.

                “Kristen, Kids, I’m home.” He was so tall and so big I thought as I ran to him, “Daddy your home. I missed you.”

                “I missed you to little guy.” Where you a good boy while I was gone?”

                “Yep, I was very good.”

                “And where you a good big brother, where you nice to summer?

                “I was really nice, I’m not a bad guy daddy.”

                Chuckling “Good boy, always look after your little sister, your mom too,” he said as he raised me up to give me a hug and a kiss.

                My sister was there and my mom right behind her. He bent down with me still in his arms and picked summer up.

                “Daddy,” she squealed “your back.”

                Kissing her gently on her forehead, “Yep, I’m home and good news I can stay for a few weeks before I have to hit the road again.”

                Summer cheered as she dug deeper into our dads’ arms.

                “Missed you Ethan,” my mother said, as she came in completing the group hug, giving a peck to his cheek.

                I rotated in my dads’ embrace and gestured with my arms to my mother and dad passed me over to her as he readjusted his balance with summer on his hip. I had always looked up to my dad, he was larger than life and my hero and I wanted to be just like him when I grew up. But mommy was my person, and she was special, we had always been close.  

                “Was Josh really nice to summer while I was gone?”

“Hey,” I said from my favorite perch, “I’m getting good at being a big brother.”

                My mom tossed my hair, gave me a kiss as she eased my head to her shoulder, and said, “Yeah, he did a great job, took that chat of yours to heart. Even stop one of the neighbors’ kids from teasing her and he’s been trying to teach her how to ride her bike.”

                “That’s my boy, you’re going to be a fine man someday, I’m so proud of you” My dad said as he reached out to pat my head as he walked to the kitchen for dinner, my mom carrying me in toe as I beamed at his praise.

                The memory was one of the happiest I had, from when they were all still alive. My dad coming home, being acknowledged by him. A big family hug in the entryway. It had been so long since we had all gathered at the table as a family. I could almost make out their faces as we sat around the table eating some delicious meal that mom had made. My sister being her silly and annoying self, she really did make it hard to be nice to her sometimes, but I loved her. Dad enthusiastically ate what he called real food, as he talked grown up stuff with mom. And mom thankful for the help dad provided when he was home, now there would be only one set of arms reaching for her, Summer was ever bit a daddy’s girl as I was a momma’s boy. I enjoyed watching the smiles, hearing the laughter. Need some work.

                The night ended early for my exhausted dad falling asleep on the couch with Summer in his arms. For me, in my parent’s bed in my mommy’s lap as she picked up where she had left off in our nightly reading.  She helped me with the bigger words, encouraging me to sound them out, until I had grown sleepy, she took over and we would cuddle close till I began to nod off.  A kiss to the head, a flicker of the lamp, then my mommy’s voice sang me the rest of the way to sleep.

                I had seen enough, and I hoped that if there was a god, I would see them soon. Not wanting to watch the rest I cut the reel of film somehow and the memories dimmed and vanished.  

                “Woosh.”

                The raindrops began to fall again as the boot came crashing down on my outstretched leg. My leg the lever, the curb the fulcrum, and the impact my femur and something cracked and broke inside me.

                I was sure I had felt it all before, every kind of pain there is, but my understanding of pain reoriented itself around the soul piercing scream that came out of my mouth and the fire in my upper leg as I heaved in the gutter.

                His boot came up under my other leg and he flipped me over onto my back, while I continued to scream and spasm in the rain.

                And he looked at me, with those dead and drunk eyes.

                “Thought you could get away huh bitch?” He pulled something out of his pocket and pointed it at me. My world was an explosion of pain, but I knew what it was, the remote to the collar.

                Sizzling and crackling fired at the side of my neck, and I winced bracing for more pain, and to my shock nothing happened. I did not have long to think about the sleeve that I had forced into place with my broken fingers, despite the rain there must have been enough dry material in between the prongs and my skin.

                He looked confused and annoyed, then angry. And he moved to kick at me again, but lost his footing, either drunk or high, he slipped on the wet curb screaming with a curse.

“Woosh.”

                Another car sped past behind me, it was so close, and I remembered my mission, “get to the light, and make it end.”

                Forcing myself to sit up, I could not turn away from him. My left leg dangled in front of me useless and I ignored the pain in my hands and pushing with my one good leg as I scooched tripoding my way to the finish line, salvation was just  feet away.

“Woosh.”

                He picked himself up off the street as I made my slow backward advance into the street. Scooching backward, I kept my eyes on him, hoping that I could make the last few feet before he got me. He righted himself and looked back down at me, and advanced.

                A shriek of tires, a blinding flare of headlights, reality twisting violently. I closed my eyes turning my head towards the light, hoping and afraid that they would never open again, like a cockroach, just let it end without me knowing.

                Screech

                Bang!!!

The impact was sudden, metal against bone. The pavement rose up to meet me, and I sprawled across it, my mind severed from my body, like a puppet severed from its strings.

.

.

.

                Despite the falling rain the world somehow seemed still as I laid there. The pain was gone at least but I could not move, and my only thoughts were wisps of consciousness and my last view of the world and sky were marred by my long and wet hair plastered to my face as the cold rain continued to fall slowly. My vision reduced, and the view was circling in as light seemed to radiate from everywhere. “So, it ends, it’s over. It’s finally over.”

.

.

.

                Or so I thought as I laid there.

.

.

.

                A face appeared, breaking through the veil of light and into the circle of my dying world. The face was beautiful, enchanting, and worried. Long brown hair touched my face. Fingers gently brushed away my wet hair from my view. Concerned and pleading eyes gazed down into mine that touched the dying sparks in my soul. 

                So, Gods a woman. Go figure. I wanted to laugh but the muscles in my face could not move. God said something, her lips moved, and I could not hear it. But then she looked away and up, into the darkness that I had come from.

                I could not see much, the light was blinding, but I was looking at her chin as she rose like a giant above me.

                Sound returned as a figure darted into the edge of my periphery. So, he’s going to get me after all.

                Puddles exploded around me as feet fell and I waited for a boot to the face, but it never came. And helplessly I watched, figures and shadows dancing in and out of my circle of vision. Arms lashed out, shouting, and bestial cries followed as I lay helpless.

                A body was flung through the circle of my worldview and crashed behind me.

.

.

                She came back to me as my world of light began to fade to black. She hovered over me looking away into the night like a sentinel. I don’t know for how long but when red and blue began to collide into my dimming world she looked back down at me; her hair again caressing my face and I wanted to reach for those brown strands.

                “It’s ok, I’m here, your safe.”

                “I got you.”

 

Chapter 2 The Angel King              may want to keep the Angel king for the main story

Notes1:I do want a recount of Maryes pov of the fight with Dylan. Maybe she is reliving it in her mind as she’s in the waiting room of the hospital. There are some important things for this. It alludes to Beth. But most importantly I want a moment for Dylan (1-2 paragraphs of his point of view only, this will be one of the few times)as he retreats back into the night after the fight with Mary. He was drunk or whatever and not at his best. Though it would have been a close fight. One thing that must happen. Dylan needs to get a photo of Mary license plate.

                Mary’s point of view has that short phone call with Robert, the sauce between the dialogue should help establish things when Robert and sunny return later. I don’t want to much of marys pov, I want to try to center this on josh, but there are a few places where it might be better to watch josh react to things instead of experiencing them from a writing standpoint.

[What is your writing process?]

I agree, i will get a lot of use out of it, thank you. also i think that was a typo. I meant 150k.

[What is your writing process?]

writing conventions?.... and this is why i posted on daily for helpful things like that. I am very good with constructive criticism, so no worries and thanks.

writing conventions? really don't know what that is. i know how to express my self just find, but grammar, spelling, English, just has never been my thing. i don't know how to structure text to make it easier for reader. im on discords and a few people have been kind enough to help me out here and there.

But honestly, i dont know what i am doing, its baffles me that you think that what i shared was good. its a surprised to hear, though i got told that a few times this week on discord.

the two scene i shared i probably my best work. as for the technicality of writing goes. i have other scene that i hope invoke the emotion that i am going for, the way i feel when i read them i want others to feel them to. i actually think of them as my best work but i have some editing to do over there. but there close, mostly just the dialogue.

My strengths are in math in science, but i have this story i want to tell and i have been writing non stop since i got committed to putting it on paper.

any hints would be appricated

 

[What is your writing process?]

spent the last few hours checking it out and other ai tools.

I can see why you like it, should save me quite some time seeing how grammar is the bane of my existence, lol.

Sounds like an intresting story.

 

what i am writing, so hard to explain. but its my answear to the Diaper dimension, which i found to be to cruel for comfort. My story takes place here in this world, there is a gentic componet to this but essentially everyone in the world as a gene that sometimes flips on. some people become bigs, others littels. anyway, the MC is a dl. kind of freaked out that his love of diapers will get him to be triggered or that he might be a surpressed littel. Head space, is like a condition in the book, casuing you to regress mentally to whatever age. Suprisingly the story is not really about being babyied or diapers either. its about finding family. The real conflict centers on the MC past, what he supressed, a lot of truama from when he was a kid.

the second MC, is a big, but they both develop a platonic friendship as they talk out the fears, and just live life. at some point things are so bad for the MC that he takes robert up on his offer to try living like a littel for a month, seeing if he gets triggard. about finding out who he is suppose to be.

Other character come into. A mommy like figure, and a little girl, who becomes like a sister to him. the babying is rely a form of therapy form him as he becomes more and more vunerable. in time you learn about his past and he finlly starts to heal and grief many people who had died in the past. the book is called Littel or not. and it ends with the conclusion of what he discovered from the babying/ thereapy. i leave it as a cliff hanger but technically you should be able to figure it. then there is a sequel and some oter stuff i am working on. I Mostly focuse on cuddeling, simply being held is like my favorite thing. you dont always have to dress up all the way to get what you need.

 

and in te end the MC just wants to have a family again. its ment to be touching if i can write it that way. tons of diaper and all that, but it really is about physical affection with people you love, not in like a dirty way. I could be more expressive on this to make this sound way cooler, but i am leaving that to my self for now

 

i have like 250 pages currently, sigh, so much work to do and i dont even want to think about the editting.

 

 

[What is your writing process?]

sculpting, sounds about right, i imagine trimming a hedge. But grammarly, i am intrigued. i will look into that. i know i will stay have to write it, but having something to shake out the clutter would be nice

Sounds like a cool project you are working on, hope it turns out well.

[What is your writing process?]

My method is close to yours spark, say i never wrote anything done when the story came to me, i am doing it after the fact(so much regret over that). Its just that i can go so deep inside my mind, I live out my thoughts in my head. I began last summer, after being inspired by something, i just thought about it. i got so engrossed in it that i spent 6 weeks of all my off time just staring off into space, in my head i was living it, feeling it, hearing the dialogue in my mind. It was a lot of fun, but eventually i made the decision to write it down. The story i was making met a lot to me and i never wanted to forget. I am not a writer, i used to be a math teacher if that tells you anything lol, major learning curve. but i have been forcing myself to relearn things they teach you in school. I have been writing like a mad man, i don't have a structure to this, its just all in my head. and i write one scene as i remember it, then another. and latter in the editing process i have to figure out how to connect everything. not the best method i know, but its what i got. and i do the read aloud function to.

 

I am getting close to a major shift in the story, and will have to structure that out carefully. and i plan on learning as much about how to do that before i get there. and hopefully sticking to that method in the future.

[Wreck-working progress]

yeah that could work, and your not wrong. there is not a lot of understanding of where josh, Robert, and the drunk are. i can see how that would be confusing.

 

[Wreck-working progress]

Its one of those things where your context is limited because i did not post the whole scene. It supposed to begin with robert leaving work and then you switch to josh perspective that leads up to the crash. i was thinking if i kept it short i might get more people to read it. maybe i should of just posted the whole scene.

Why Robert swerved, he was suppose to do it because there is a drunk guy in the road, but that would not make much sense considering the setting so i was wanting to re imagine that, as for the AI. He disengaged it  prior to the scene, its like 4 pages before what i posted. i might not want to say AI because that implies that the car should of acted on its own. will have to think on that.

 

hey thanks for responding, means a lot. i think i am just going to post the whole scene.

 

[Wreck-working progress]

I like that a lot of people have seen this, but really could use some feed back. be brutally honest if you want. I have over 200 pages in the works and so much more to write. If i need to step up my game i will, but i need to hear that from you all, so please if you read this, say something, it was bad, it was good, take an extra minute and add what you liked, or did not like. i no this is missing context but that's on purpose dont want to spoil things down the road.

[Wreck-working progress]

I am working on this car wreck scene, Hoping for some feedback. Have never written any thing like this before, was trying to capture the dynamic action.

Ill leave out the proceeding 6 pages to be concise, though it does give more context.

 

Having found some of his nerve, he noticed the rain; it had picked up while he was inside. And his gathered nerves slipped through his fingers. Not wanting to drive in this kind of weather, if he could have avoided it, he would never drive. But his supply had run low, and he still had to get to work, he did not have a choice.

And memory came back to him, His new job; “started in less than an hour” he thought, wishing he had the day shift. Taking a deep breath again, he walked quickly to his car, regretting parking so far away. With one hand clutching his purchase, as his other reached for his keys.

                His new job, he could not be late. It took everything he had to find the courage to include on his resume that he had a medical issue and had to wear protection

Standing in front of the car door, it was hard to see the keyhole, but on finding it he pushed the old key into the lock.

“Screeeeeeeeeech”

Josh reacted to a terrifyingly familiar sound as rubber screeched nearby. And as he looked up, for a moment he saw beams of light rolling in the darkness failing to pierce the shallow fog on the street as the beams scattered. Then the booming clang of metal echoed uncomfortably close into the long cold night.

Then his world went black.

 

Robert

Passing the recently built subdivisions catered to the more affluent, and not too far from his house he approached a familiar intersection. (not a place for a drunk to be, change the setting)

Robert was still semi daydreaming, waiting, and hoping for the eventual day he longed for, when he could be a true and proper daddy in his own right. His mind distracted, in the happy thought; then his instincts noticed; through the windshield, fog, and rain the silhouette of something, no, someone in the middle of the street.

INSTINCT, that part of his mind that saw more clearly and reacted faster reached for the control center of his brain.

His instincts fully engaged, taking control over his body, forcing his consciousness away. Adrenaline surging, he used all his might to jerk the steering wheel as hard as he could towards the left. While simultaneously slamming on the brake; causing a dreadful screech to fill the night. Losing control, the rear wheels lost their grip on the road as they spun out and hydroplaned over a puddle.

A disorientation of unease formed in the pit of Roberts stomach as his body rose in the air and like a corkscrew turn on a roller coaster was yanked back down over repeatedly. The centrifugal forces of the role slammed Robert’s head into the glass of the window. Time slowed down as he began to crash and ricocheted through the street and into a parking lot. Contorting and crunching of metal, violent vibrations stabbed at him knocking the air from his lungs.

The vehicles airbags deployed on first contact with the street, creating a protective cushion of air inside the cabin, though the side bags malfunctioned. Roberts arms flailed against the window, roof, and dash; unable to bring his arms to his chest, unable to find purchase or something to brace against. Helplessly strapped to his seat, terror overcame him as he was forced to endure the merry go round from hell.

Thank goodness for the fire hydrant that slowed and altered the path of the rolling car. Thank goodness for the adjacent parked Toyota as it absorbed most of the momentum. The back end of his car, up in the air rolled over the Corolla, the front low to the ground. The back end rolled and fell, causing the front end to pop in the air. Partially slamming into the parked civic, bumping it a few feet as it continued to roll over the hood.

And as he rolled across and off the hood, being pulled back down again he thought he saw a kid or a teenager from his elevated position through the window as he came crashing upside down for the final time, coming to a tittering stop as the car found a new center of balance.

Robert never quite lost consciousness, but he was in a daze and in shock.  

“Ahhhhhh”, He groaned.

He was not sure how long he hung there, his world upside down. Long enough to feel his heartbeat in his ears as his blood circulated into his head. Long enough to feel the fatigue of the straps anchoring him in place. Long enough to feel the aches in his body, the thumping in his head from being tossed like a ragdoll as a female voice drowned on over the speakers.

For a long minute he just hung their panting as his sense of orientation came back to him. Causing his windshield to fog a bit as he did so. He raised his arms off the roof of his car bringing them to his face, needing to feel something as if the act would tell him he was ok.

Instinct: “Wait, where’s The kid.”

His instinct roared back to life looking this way and that. And there, seeing somehow into the dark outer periphery, through the passenger window the outline of a body overturned on the pavement. For a long moment his instincts recoiled from the daze of what it saw. It retreated long enough for Robert’s conscious mind to come to the surface to see what had made his instincts to retreat.

“NO!”

And past fears came to him, his nightmares realized. That it had happened. He had harmed, hurt, caused pain, he had killed…..”NOOO!” he screamed.

Robert had feared this moment, ever since the instinct came to him when he was triggered in his sophomore year. The thought of what he might be responsible for came to him in a sudden flood of panicked terror, a desperation for it not to be so.

And in a rare moment of clarity, in a moment of grim determination he and his instincts united as one inside his Big space. The combined effort was enough to ignore the pain and discomfort and a new shot of adrenaline fueled the duet that played inside his mind.

Frantically, his body wiggled and strained to get free as he clawed at the latch of his safety harness. Finding the latch, he struggled with the release.

Though he felt it, Robert ignored the new added injury as gravity pulled his large muscular body headfirst into the roof.

“Please remain in the vehicle” the AI stated. “Distress call has been dispatched and emergency assistance is on its way.” The Ai continued to repeat itself as Robert struggled to pull his legs down and out of the driver’s alcove. Crawling over to the passenger side, the compartment now smaller from the crash; seeing again what he thought might be a teen or a kid laid out on the pavement. On his belly he reached and tried the door handle, though Robert had no way of knowing that the locking mechanism had been damaged.

“Stupid computer.” Roberts mind whirled, “wait the computer.” (I may cut this)

“System: Activate emergency door ejection” Robert yelled desperately.

“Processing, denied. Please remain in the vehicle…”

“There is a guy out there, I need to check to see if he needs help.” Robert tried again. “Please stay in the vehicle and try not to move. Initial diagnostic complete; damage to the driver is non-critical, please stand by for medical aid.”

Taking a moment to breathe and think, “there is an injured person, and I need to render medical assistance.” “Processing, denied.”

He tried again “the vehicle is in bad shape, there are hazardous conditions that will lead to my death if you don’t let me out. “Negative, no such conditions detected.”

Growing frustrated at his inability to do anything but watch on he screamed “Fucking rich people and their stupid cars”. And then he tried again “your sensors are not working right; don’t you see the fire.”

 “No fire detected.”

“I am going to suffocate or burned to death he howled If you don’t let me out, I can see hazards you can’t, “Processing. Considering. Denied.”

Robert tried to turn his body, to get his legs under him to kick the passenger side window out but was unable to. Frustration continued to grow. Anger and explosive energy wailed up inside, coiling like a snake, enraged at the time he wasted on the AI, enraged by his lack of mobility. Robert found footing somewhere in the driver’s compartment to brace himself. He bawled up his fist and began to punch the window, over and over, until it shattered.

Ignoring the bloody mess that was now his hand, he hauled himself through……….

 

 

 

 

 

[Sunny]

27 minutes ago, Personalias said:

A strong opening with organic worldbuilding.

Thanks Personalias, I took some of your suggestions still considering some others.

Your discord channel is a lot of fun, filled with some wonderful people who don't mind helping out a new guy like me:)

 

[Sunny]

This will be short because it’s my first upload and I just want to see how it goes, just the first part of the intro and I am curious what kind of feedback I will get. I have been trying to get better as an author, ideally so I don't have to spend so much time editing.

I am new at writing, but a long-time reader and I have been writing since last summer. This story is a companion book to my actual book. Characters overlap, and this was an exercise to practice writing while a figured some characters out.

Somethings I thought might be helpful. I am very fascinated by the Big & little dynamic. I find the concept of head space fascinating and that's what began my writing. There are other things I care about: processing trauma, healing from it, something as simple as being held and being told everything is going to be OK, and lastly, finding happiness in a world where bad things sometimes happen. I have mixed some things in to add to the world building that I think some of you might like.

         

 

There is something about littles that is hard to articulate. In the way their faces light up when they smile, and the joy they bring with them wherever they go. You can see this in the way they play and laugh, in their naive and gullible natures, in their contentment with simple things. Whatever it is that makes littles so unique would be close to their purity of spirit. Adults have lost that purity, that innocence. And children will eventually lose theirs too, becoming adulterated by simply living in a broken world caused by flawed people. And that is what is so terrible about growing up. Your innocence is taken from you the more you experience life and the world. Perhaps that is what makes little so fascinating. Unlike children they won’t shed that purity, unlike adults they haven’t lost that innocence. That purity of the spirit is preserved for ever.

There is a fierceness inside of Bigs and it’s seen through many words we use to describe them; here are some. Words like: “caregiver, protector, provider, and parent”. We sum it up in the words Mommy and Daddy. A name that when cried provokes great fierceness. Will it be hands that reach for you when you’re sad? A fist ready to fight for you? Strong arms to hold and comfort you? A gentle understanding voice that lets you know that everything will be, ok? Or eyes that radiate unending compassion to let you know you are loved?

There is also a nobility of character inside of them. A fragility that is willing to risk, suffer, and give of themselves for the thing they care about. Hmm, how fitting is it they got to be the ones to watch over that purity of spirit that remains unchanging in a dark world. (working progress)

                                                                                                    -          SanguineReader

 

 

 

 

Sunny

By me

Being little is a beautiful thing. This was something Sunny knew. She was of course thinking back to a simpler time, before all the heartache and pain. Back when her family was still together, and things were good and simple. Back when she was not afraid to run to her mommy or daddy when she got scared or sad. They were all ways there for her, quick to pick her up and embrace her in strong loving arms. Back then when they paid attention to her, made her feel special, and loved. There was just nothing like being little back then.

Having grown tired playing amongst the flowers, arranged to form a small 6ft tall maze, and spotting a large budding oak tree she carefully looked into the little park; looking this way and that, making sure that she could not be seen she made her way to the tree. Finding a comfortable place beneath the large oak tree to lie down, light beaming down through the branches as she looked up and caught the brilliant blue of the sky above peeking through the leaves. Her eyes had grown heavy as a gentle breeze blew and brought with it the comforting smell of newly budding flowers. Being little was beautiful, she thought one last time.

 As she fell into a gentle sleep whispering the words, “back then.”

v 

 

                Having grown up her entire life in a world of littles and Bigs, Sunny never paid much attention to those strange adults who were treated like children. She never hated them or thought bad of them. She just knew they were different and needed more care. And since she was not a Big or a little, she had little reason to think about them. Until her triggering when the family found out her dad had been cheating on her mom with a colleague from work when she was thirteen.

                Things got bad fast. “An honest mistake” he had tried to explain to her mom. But she was not having it. It did not help that his girlfriend demanded that he leave his family and marry her when she found out she was pregnant. Divorce is never fun, especially for a child. Not really understanding at the time, she just knew her mom now hated her dad.

 There was so much screaming back and forth, meanness, things thrown, crying, grief, depression, and rage. She withdrew within herself and made herself scarce as best as she could. She and her older brother Lucas somehow became forgotten in the battle that ensued. Caught in the middle, she and her brother watched on helplessly as the two people they loved the most in the world ripped each other apart.

When at home she stayed out of their way, at school she pretended everything was fine, doing her best to not let her friends or teachers see how sad she was inside. But how could she be fine? She felt like a hostage to her parents, knowing by now to never give the appearance of picking a side. Things would never be like they used to be, she knew, knowing that something tore inside her heart. And, not knowing when a certain gene that had laid dormant deep inside had activated beginning to send new signals and chemicals to her brain.

She began to feel this desire, not quite a compulsion but to play with toys meant for younger kids. To want to ask for hugs and kisses, to raise her arms with the expectation that she would be picked up. And though the feelings inside of her grew slowly, small signs began to appear by the time she was fifteen. Her growth had long started to slow, her breasts were underdeveloped, she would have accidents at night every now and then. And though she never told anyone, sometimes during the day too.

There were other things of course. Rediscovering old toys in the attic and playing with them when she could. She recovered her old companion Bebe and even an old paci. There was a growing kind of focus that started to form inside of her. an attention span that was not quite normal that usually set in when she played or drew. There were developing changes in her mannerism, a diminishing of emotional fortitude.

 She found herself isolated from her parents, depressed and alone. If it was not for Lucas, she did not know how she could have made it through those tough times. When the shouts and yells would turn to screaming, and horrible words were said, and when his mother would attack her father trying to provoke him to do something she could use against him; she would always run to her room and hide. Sometimes under the covers, other times in her closet or under her bed. If Lucas was home, he would always come and find her.

Lucas was two years older than her and such a sweet and caring brother. Fiercely protective of her, always going out of his way to make her feel loved and special. On one particular night, the fighting had gotten really bad. The night her father chose to leave and never come back, choosing the other woman over her mother, Lucas, and herself. That night she ran to her room and hid in the closet. She kept a secret in there. An adorable purple stuffed giraffe her parents had given her when she was born. Huddling under a blanket she held on to Bebe for dear life.

That night, her brother came to find her, looking for her in her room, knowing there were only so many places she could be hiding. Not finding her immediately and checking under the bed and still not finding her. He turned and moved and checked the closet. Seeing her with tears falling from her eyes and seeing Bebe again in her arms; he crawled in under the blanket pulling the door shut behind him. It only took a second to pull Sunny into his arms, wrapping his arms tightly around her as she laid the side of her head on his shoulder.

Lucas was tall enough to feel the weight of several dresses on top of him, as he moved her while in his lap to a more comfortable position; leaning and resting against the back wall of the closet.

Through the walls the shouting intensified, and the sound of breaking, shattering, and general mayhem as unknown objects had been moved from their places as they had been thrown. And with each new crashing sound, Sunny would tremble or jump, giving Lucas the extra reminder that something in the house was broken and in pieces.

“I don’t know how, but I promise that someday everything will get better. None of this is our fault, it’s not your fault Sunny. Mom and dad can’t seem to see us anymore, and I know that hurts. But we have each other, and I love you. I can’t prove it right now, but someday everything will be OK.” With a raised and gentle whisper into her ear. 

The Heighten screaming began to raise in tempo and tenor, as the sound of hurried bodies made their way to the front of the house. And, moments later a large bang that caused Sunny to Jump in Lucas arms, another signal that something was broken and scattered.

Their family; as their father left for good.

Lucas tightened his hold on her when she jumped at the sound of the loud bang. And she cried. And cried while he brushed his fingers through her hair and patting her back. Unable to keep the tears at bay any longer, Lucas let his pain flow gently down his cheeks, and then began to sing.

                In a soft and mournful tone, and with the occasional catch in in his throat; he sang slowly.

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy, when skies are gray, you'll never know, dear, how much I love you, so please don't take my sunshine away.”                                                                                                             

He sang a few rounds, holding her, and feeling the warmth of her body grow in his lap. It pained him that his parents could not see them anymore. And the saddest thing of all was they could not see the changes in Sunny. He knew there was nothing he could do for her, he just wished he knew what to do, and he worried for her.

He did not want to imagine his sister deteriorating to the point where he had to call little services. He was not completely sure she was regressing or if was a coping mechanism for the stress of all the fighting. He had noticed things for a while, but it was so slow.

Speaking softly then Leaning in as he spoke, he kissed her on the head after a short pause.                              “If we have to be sad Sunny, at least we are together. I love you sunshine, I always will.”                                                         

“I love you too Lukey.”