jayahind
Hi I'm JayaHind I'm a writer who writes stories in Wattpad (one novel at a time) I also plan on posting chapters here as well after publishing them in wattpad I hope you like my story.
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Latest Posts by jayahind
A New Saga: Hound of Ulster Chapter 3: An Empty Welcome Party
I was in total shock at what I saw. I mean, come on, how often do you see a lipless women with a wide mouth and a really long blood red tongue altogether like that?
Koda must've noticed my expression, because a few seconds after I saw the lady, he asked "you aright, kid?"
"Yeah..." I responded. I could've sworn what I saw was real. Then again, I was in a moving vehicle, and there's loads of pedestrians walking around. It could've been anything... At least, that's what I thought to myself.
With that, the rest of the ride was spent on nothing but silence.
———
As the prowler slowly turned towards the curb and came to a stop, I glanced at the neighborhood we arrived at. It kinda looked like your everyday average suburb to me. A line of brick houses with tiled roofs that have, for some reason, Victorian styled lampposts next to the entrances of driveways. Maybe the people here have an interest in classical antiquity, I thought to myself, noting some of the mini Greco-Roman temples on the porches of the houses.
I opened the car door and stepped out. As I slammed the door, I was gonna walk to Koda's window and say a quick thank you, but for some strange reason, the car turned right from the curb and moved forward.
"Ok, then," I said quietly to myself. "Guess he wanted to be rid of me."
I walked along about 10 houses on the side of the road, looking for the address of my parent's house.
Grimstreet 3337
I looked up towards the house. It was a small dark blue brick house, with a faded red tiled roof and a cobblestone chimney. The garage door was a painted hunter green, the driveway a navy blue. The door was a polished oak door with a Celtic cross style door knocker. The door was shaded by two Ancient Greek style pillars holding up a small Greek style roof.
You can tell that the people around here have an obsession with old stuff. At least, that's what I figure.
I treaded on the grass, stepped in front of the door and placed my hand on the door knocker.
I hesitated.
Thoughts ran all over my head, saying what do I say to them or how should I react. Or even will they recognize me? Will my own sister recognize me?
I hadn't thought of these things before. I've always disliked my parents, but I haven't seen them in a long time. And Koda's words were implanted in my head like seeds and grew. People would make decisions that seem dumb and stupid to us that are either done with a good reason or a bad one. It's about why people do it that counts. Those words echoed in my mind for about a few seconds before I closed my eyes, inhaled as much air as I possibly could, and exhaled slowly, clearing away all my thoughts.
I knocked 5 times. No response. I did it again. No one came at the door. After a few more tries, I gave up. I assumed that no one's home. I looked for a window to check hear the door, but there isn't any. With a sigh, I turned around and walked back to the curb. I decided to wait for them when they came back, since, of course, I didn't have the keys to the house. As I sat down on the curb, I noticed that a newspaper was littered next to my spot.
I picked it up from the edges and read the headlines; Young man among 11 others has gone missing; authorities are still searching for the missing victims.
With a frown, I tossed the newspaper in the air to the light breeze blowing from my left, and watched as it was carried away to the sky. I wasn't into the news much. They didn't have much positivity, in my opinion. As I looked around the neighborhood, I saw a small dark shape flying towards my direction in the corner of my eye. I assumed it was a bird of some sort, but as I looked at the shape more closely, my eyes squinting, I realized it was no bird at all. Whatever it was, it had sharp sharp teeth, a bold head, dark green skin and bat like wings. And it was flying towards me it's yellow-white talons opened, in lightning speed.
A New Saga: Hound of Ulster Chapter 1: The Arrival
Alright. Now that you know me a little better, let's get on with the story.
I landed at the airport in California, no problem. I exited the airport, expecting my family to wait outside, my sister calling out my name with excitement or something, when I saw a man standing outside with a white sign with my name on it in front of a dark purple Plymouth prowler. The guy sorta looked like he was 26 years old. Typical. They don't give a damn about me by sending me away and losing touch and now they send some random dude with a red and black aviator jacket, camouflage pants, clip-on shades, long black hair tied up in a pony-tail and has almond skin.
Great, I thought to myself. Mom and dad sent me a random guy to pick me up. Thanks, you guys!
Irregardless, I walked through the open parking lot towards the guy.
As I placed one last step in front of him, he slowly moved his head towards my face, making contact with my eyes (I wasn't sure, since he was wearing clip on sunglasses, but I had a literal weird feeling in my gut,) and said to me, "You Andrew and Sarah's son?"
OK. Didn't asked my name. Guess he must be my parent's friend or something, then. "Yeah?" I responded.
"Then why are ya standin' around for?" he asked me, "Get in the damn car."
Wow. He seems friendly, I thought to myself. Naturally, I did what I was told and hopped into the prowler.
———
Most of the ride was spent on silence. The man and I didn't say much. He didn't seemed to play any music on the radio, closed all windows with only the air conditioner on to max, and the hood was put on. Nothing but the sound of the cars muffled engine and the ac blowing all it's winds into the car.
Finally, I broke the silence. "So," I asked, "you know my parents?"
"Ah somewhat work with them. That count?" he responded.
"What do you do for a living?"
He didn't respond.
"Alright," I said. "What's your name, then?"
After a few seconds of hesitation, he then responded to my recent question. "Koda."
"So, Koda," I spoke, "what's with the negative face?"
"Ah'd say the same to you, kid," he responded.
Alright, you got me there. "None of your business."
"Well then," Koda responded, "glad we're on the same page."
He drove the car to an exit at the left.
"Ya don' look that excited to see your ma and pa," Koda said.
"What's there to be excited about?" I asked him rhetorically.
"Ah see," he spoke. "Got problems with your parents?"
I didn't respond.
"Kid, Ah've been there before," he continued. "Believe me, ah know how it feels. But sometimes, people would make decisions that seem dumb and stupid to us that are either done with a good reason or a bad one. Ah'm telling ya, kid, it's about why people do it that count."
"Thank for the small-lecture-from-the-guy-I-just-met," I responded.
"Whatever, kid," he finished, as we past the big square wooden sign in bald letters that says Sawville. A sign with no welcome or come back soon on it. That seems like poor effort to me.
As we drove into town, I stared through the window, my emerald eyed shaggy blond hair reflection staring back at me.
You won't believe this, but as we drove past the many pedestrians, I saw a woman with a huge mouth and a long lolling tongue.
A New Saga: Hound of Ulster Chapter 1: Introduction
Hi there. My name is Christopher Canavan, but you may call me Chris. You're probably wondering who I am besides my name. Well, you'll know more about me later on in the story, but here's the stuff I'm willing to tell you know.
I'm a 15 year old kid who used to live in Dublin, Ireland with my grandma for about 6 years of my life. I was born in a town called Sawville, which is located in California, America until about the age of 9, when my parents sent me to Ireland to live, as they said, 'just for a short amount of time' and that 'You'll be back before I know it.' Their exact words. I believed them at the time, but then I had finally figured that they meant 'You'll be gone for God knows how long' and that 'You'll probably never coming back.' That's what I started believing.
To be honest, I didn't have the best childhood. Before moving to Ireland, I remembered being more cheerful and stuff. I was more optimistic and had always relied on my sister Tara. We were pretty close; we played games, with toys and she would tell me stories before I went to bed.
Of course, that all ended when I left. Results? Life pretty much sucked after that. I kept on getting bullied by a group of kids at my school called Sandymount High School, who would just steal my lunch money or beat me otherwise. They got expelled for injuring another student.
You might think that everything should be a bit easier for me after that. Well, you're a bit off there. Sure, I didn't have to be afraid of getting beaten every time I walk down the halls, but many other students, mostly my classmates, would just say mean things behind my back and would sometimes say them directly in front of my face. It hurts, but I got used to it. Not all of them are like that, but they didn't do much to stop it. There was this one guy, but that's a story I'll get to later.
My grandma isn't much of the sweet old lady type. Quit the opposite, actually. She was usually strict to me. Every time I did a wrong thing, no matter how small it is, she'd just ground me for a month. When I was 13, I told her about me being bullied at school. Her response? Instead of saying 'You poor child. We'll talk to the principle right away,' she just said 'You're becoming an adult, boy. A man. Meaning you must stop being a weakling and harden your shell.' Like I said before about my parents. Exact words.
That kinda affected me in someway. After a few months, I didn't become much cheerful. I found expressing my emotions a waste of time and I didn't interacted much to other people.
So, yeah I practically shut myself off from the rest of the world. Including my grandma and my parents, who didn't bother sending me a letter. As well as my sister.
Anyway, 2 or 3 weeks after I turned 15, grandma passed away and, of course, I had to go back to America to live with my parents and sister.
I expected an awkward welcome and some normal stuff that usually happens to me. But as I came to Sawville, things go a bit unexpected.
A New Saga: Hound of Ulster Prologue
It was a dark night in the town of Sawville. The streets are bare of any sign of life. The houses lining the streets were quiet, the windows barren from any light. The lamppost lit dimly, brightening only patches of the road and cement grounds of the pavements.
Not a single breath from any creature was to be heard. Not a single movement to be seen. Nothing but the chirps of crickets filled the cold air in the moonless sky. From around the block, a middle-aged man in a black shirts with a blood red skull was treading on the side of the road, his head almost covered in shadows from the lamplight. He was about to turn right to a red-brick house with a blue-tiled roof when suddenly, he heard a shrill wailing reminiscent of a woman's piercing the pitch black silence.
He swiftly turned around, startled by the sound, but couldn't see anyone through the shadows of the night. Before he could step to the direction he believed was the source of the screaming, a flying creature swooped down in a blur and flew away, the man's screams fading away in the distance.
