The Immortal Fight.

Chapter One

Chapter One

Lovatt's POV

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Cream paint curling from my bedroom wall, dried and cracked from the years that it had stood here – the summer holidays had only just begun and I was sitting in my new black office chair, it was new only because of the reason that we had moved – In fact it was the fifth time that me and mother has just moved – we were the newbie’s of the outskirts of a city called London. This is where around about my father and mother both grew up. Father - thoughts of him occur regularly more than I hoped to be honest, my favourite pastime was linked to him. Why? Well - I look at the picture of me when I was baby and him, a reckless father. I sighed to myself; I wanted to look at more, so from my desk draw I pulled out a memory box that mother had started when I was a child. It was like a shoe box, but stronger. The lid was a dark pink with a picture stuck on the front of me and my childhood toy – I must have been about 2 years old. The box itself was a baby blue and the inside was filled with pink tissue paper. I never liked the colour pink, it was horrid colour that made me want to vomit; it was the kind of colour that if you saw girls wear it, you knew that they would live up to being a girl which defied all that feminists believed it. As you can tell then – I am a rock chick, normally you would say father like son. But to break the stereotypes, I was father like daughter,  a‘Goth’ so to speak off. My mother blamed it on the drugs, music and drinking that he done when I was little – Can you blame me though, he is my role model, so to speak off; minus the dying part. I opened the lid of the box and like a jack in box about 100 photos flew out of me – all of me, my toys, and parents. The first photo that caught my eye, my father – in his twenties about a year or two before I was born, he was the one in the middle, surrounded by five people – two each side. I glared at his face more, the broaden face of a young man that’s dreams of being one of the people that also helped with the rock era. It was faded, coloured, but not the defined as today’s cameras was; even with the poor quality of the cameras, he’s boldness in this photo still seemed to shine, from the dull lights that glowed above him. His outfit was the one that he was last wearing when he died – the black leather rock jacket that had his band’s name on ‘Workshop Boys’ This was his last band that he had tried to make famous  and those faded jeans that were a little too small for him, as they seemed to end just above his ankle. I looked down at my jeans – I would probably do the same, I mean I loved these jeans, they were so comfortable and they looked so good. I smiled to myself as I noticed a photo that I had never seen before; another old photo – It was my father again still looking happy as ever but he looked older, much older this must of been just before he died. He was wearing a black sleeveless top and he was showing off his arm muscle that also had a tattoo on – one of a wolf. It was amazing looking – It seemed to start from his thumb and it must of continued through-out his body because the shirt was cutting it off. Wow. I pulled the photo back in the box – my summer holidays were the worst, because I had no friends or family near me and I am stuck in this world were to me, father is still alive. I sighed – college was the only hope for me now. Placing the box back I wished that I was old enough to tell him to stop, to tell him that he’ll die if he continues. In life everyone thinks that things are harmless but it is the littlest things that make a big difference in their life and someone else’s.

-

 As I stood in front my bed not much time had passed. Boredom – there was nothing to do. I sighed. My eyes were closed and nothing was going to intrude my nap. I swished my blonde hair with newly placed purple and black streaks above my hair as I leaned back to fall into the bed. The bed was a king size; it was new – Metal framed with black leather worked into the theme, as I fell back I felt the instance comfort from the air mattress. The reason why I had this mattress is because at night I had real trouble sleeping – little noises like the nearby owl or wolf or something that kept me awake that was so annoying. I was ill because of it, which forced my mother to figure out what is wrong with me – I had several council meetings with shrinks, but they didn’t understand until they booked me an appointment with a sleep expert, they figured it was my bed so it was changed, and it brought me together again. However I still hear the annoying howl every now and again – I never know what is howling though, normally I thought that it was the country-life that had me go loopy in America, but I guess it wasn’t It was like every animal knew that I was around - I guess that was.... My thoughts were fading as well as my eyes as they started to droop and I could feel that my sense were wearing thin from the fact that I could hear nothing and the white blank canvas of the ceiling was blurry and fading into darkness meant that I could sleep – peacefully this warm afternoon. I was almost there when I heard it again, that same howl that got me every time – My senses were all awake and alert, I had no hope of sleeping now, so I did what I did best and dragged my body off the bed, stood up and walked forward to the massive windows, I couldn’t see anything, all I could see was the forest that laid next to our house – In fact I think it was our garden, but from this window I was not too sure. Our house was big – In fact it was a mansion; the fact that it had 10 bedrooms was odd considering it was just me and mother. We owned 30 arcs of land and still I had still had to see the light on my we had to get this house – I mean 20 minutes down the road and there were houses just as nice that were not so isolated too, I mean I would have to get the bus just to get near the nearest town. I sighed and shock my head in disbelief - I gazed over the trees looking into the distance were I all I could see was country-side; I guess it means that I could go for long walks with no interruption. Truth was I liked peace and quiet – no noises I would like please! Shocked out of my thoughts I heard the howling now – It was different this time, It was more strained, also it felt closer, much closer, it was not just one howl it was continuous. I looked down to the bark of the trees and there it stood a wolf. An actually wolf in London! Wait WHAT?! There can’t be wolves in London; I mean it’s a city for goodness sake! I had spun round and the howling was still continuous – is this all in my head. I took a breather and turned back round, and still the wolf stood. It had stopped howling and was looking at something on the lower floor. As he crawled closer to the downstairs windows, he’s black tail whooshed effortlessly. Finally he was out of my sight – but I wanted to see more, honestly I had never seen a real wolf before, amused and oddly not scared I decided that I would venture down stairs to get a closer glimpse of this animal, the house itself was strong meaning that not even a wolf could possible break through.  

-

I crawled down the main stairs into the porch/lounge – Not even bothering to get my shoes, I walked through the corridor into the kitchen, our kitchen was massive, It had basically had two of everything, like we needed all these things, No one ever visited that I liked. Sometimes I wish I could be a little bit more social, I mean I liked the quietness but sometimes it would be nice to have a friend that cared about me, even with a lot of items in this house - It was lonely. Saddened by the thought of always being alone I walked to the three massive panels of window that was the French doors, leading into the back garden. The wolf still stood there, its black coat was shimmering in the light, it was beautiful, and I didn’t know if it was a female or a male, but by the size and the build I would think it was a male. I looked into his eyes, and they are a glowing yellow, and the pupils was the darker than the pits of hell. He stood there silently and watched me, I didn’t see why, when I walked a bit closer to the window to see actually how tall he was; he growled. It was deeper than thunder, at first I was scared because I noticed that I had hit one of the marble worktops and the force that I hit it; I bet I would have a bruise tomorrow. When I had turned around to see if the wolf was still there, he had gone. Vanished. I sighed.