The Collaboration Files

The Flaming Pants

It's a short one, I know. But at least I got something done. I've had literally no time between testing and other stuff (Like my life). So anywho, this is to you, random anyone that happens to read this! I'mma take a nap now!

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Edit 1/20/2014

So Den is from Spain now. Because I literally know almost no french whatsoever.

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"Soo... Abigale Rush. Anyone know who that is?"

It was late afternoon. Holly was wrapping my arm with some kind of bandage, and Liz was pacing, thinking.

"Wasn't there a lady on the news a couple of weeks ago with that name? Didn't she have a bazillion cats?"

"That was Abigale Runay."

"What about that pop star? The new 'popular' one?" Jene jumped in. "Doen't she have a band called The Flaming Pants? Yeah, now that I think about it, it seems like her. Hm..."

"Gale Storm. That's her stage name," Artemis cut in. "A fitting pseudonym."

"So that's our baddie. Gale Storm, A.K.A. Abigale Rush," Holly tied the linen, and I stood.

I opened my mouth to throw a witty remark out there, when I heard a slight rustling. Instantly, like a cat, My ears pinpointed teh noise, and I swiveled my head to the spot.

"Liz," I whispered. "Echolocation. Now."

With a click , Liz listened for a moment, then shook her head.

"The flora is too dense. Can't get a good read on it."

suddenly, a boy burst from the bushes. He was panting, his shirt was torn to shreds, and blood spread a thick smear on his cheek.

"¡Ayudame!" He cried. "Please, help me! Beasts chase me through the trees!" He pointed behind him, and I saw a dreadful sight. Armoured, shiny-skinned, buff, tall, and evil-looking Golem-creatures bore down on us, crushing plant's beneath their feet and sending wildlife skittering for cover. I looked at Holly.

"That's new," She muttered. Then, grabbing the boy and Jene's arms, she fled. "Run, or you'll end up... Well, I don't think it'll be good!"

I didn't need telling twice. I hitailed it out of there, back towards the ship. Branches whipped my face and gravel tripped me, but I scrambled onward into the arms of temporary safety. The ship.

Once on the beach, we pounded teh sand, piled into the craft, and were headed to the bottom of the sea once more. Now it was an even tighter fit, because of teh boy, who was smushed right up next to me. His cheeks were a bright red from running all the livelong day, his lip was running blood, and he looked terrible in general.

"Who are you?" I managed to ask. And despite his pain and fatigue, he answered.

"Me llamo Den, señorita. My name is Den. And you probably just saved me from death. I thank you."