3 Scenes From The Elimancer Chronicles:

By .A. H. A. H. Winters:

Author's Note:

I am writing this because, I wanted to give you nibble of what Life with Pebble, the main here, is like. There is a dedication to a friend of mine at the very end. keep a lookout.

Scene 1:

Walking through Utah was much like doing so inside of a hair dryer, which had been turned to it's highest intensity. While simultaneously, making one's way through a wall of dust due to the fact that somebody had set a dust devil on it's reverse setting. It was annoying. She could feel the sun attempting to create a fried egg where the crown of her head should've been. Even through the thick black leather of the deep cowl of a hood she wore. the heels of her motorcycle boots scrapped across the black top as she strode toward the out of the way diner she'd be waiting for him in. She had fo wait as a loud, white, yuppi family exited the diner. She caught the door and entered. She went to table that she knew nobody was near and, sat. The waitress clacked over and pebble destroyed the woman professionalism flat, as she threw her hood back. "What can I-" She stopped cold. Pebble's arctic gaze met the other woman's. Pebble became a bit concerned for the woman health as she just stood there, utterly shocked. "What can I do f-"

Pebble did not take her gloves off as she placed her hands on the surface of the table; on either side of the place setting that was already reset there. "Water." Pebble stated quietly.

The waitress fumbled for a few moments as Pebble as she shifted her long leg. She was even foot. Her sword's sheath kept irritating her. Finally, the. "A-Anything else?" She asked.

Pebble could tell that people were doing things like hoisting their collars up around their necks. For they too were aware that the extra little chill they felt, wasn't the air conditioner. In point of act, a couple of the people sitting in the diner, left. They put their money down and...just, went elsewhere. "A. Buttered roll." Pebble's voice was low, icy.

"Is that it?" the Waitress asked, sounding like a woman who didn't want to be in the same country as Pebble. She was scared. She couldn't know that the creature, whom sat before her here and now, had slane over a million men. However, the waitress had an odd feeling. One of deadly danger. The waitress though that should have called her family.

"It will be." Pebble replied. Taking this for a threat, the Waitress all but flew back into the kitchen. Pebble made a wisp of air move skein of her hair honey blonde placing it back into her braid. Her roll and water came and, she'd eaten and drunk her meal. Still he had not shown himself. She was becoming...impatient. Thunder rumbled. Due to her powers.

"Ah! There you are. Sorry." He said, rushing over toward Pebble. The sliver-white scar, which covered the left half of her face, rippled as she frowned disapprovingly. A burn long ago. The explosion. Pebble's hair was streaked a bit by silver. For over a Millennia she'd tread the earth's surface. "Apologies. May I join you?" Pebbled nodded. Once. Merlin sat.

Scene 2: QUICK NOTE: There is a character in this scene who's name is pronounced A-tay-ah: ALSO: This scene takes place in Chicago:

Denise closed the book she had been reading to Attea and, smiled as she tucked the, giggling, little girl into bed. She switch off her bed side lamp and, switch on her night light, which hung in a plug by the closet. "Goodnight, Tay-bear!" Denise smiled. Tay beamed sleepily. Denise retreated back into the narrow hall of the small, cozy apartment. After watching some Saturday Night Live, and playing some Mario Bros, Denise decided to secure the apartment's windows and, doors. She then went into Tay's Brother's bedroom, pealed back the covers and, went into the bathroom, located right across from the bedroom. While in there, she thought she heard something. "Huh?" She checked on Attea, whom was sleeping. Sound asleep. Denise shrugged and, went back to the bedroom. She'd tell Worf about that tomorrow. She checked her watch. Midnight and, change. She sighed, climbing into bed.. Worf would be back tomorrow. He was on an overnight trip to Canada. He'd taken on that extra job, for Tay's shoes. Worf was a great man. She was dozing pleasantly when her eyes snapped open, at the same time, she sat bolt upright in the darkness. The room was pitch dark. Hell, the whole apartment was.


Denise knew that sound. Even at five years old, Attea was smart. She'd put a chair in front of the door. Some one had just knocked it over. Worf? Could he be home early? Mmm...no, no. No. He'd told them he'd be staying over night with friends. No. Besides, Attea had told what she would do, to keep keep away the bad men. This apartment had been broken into three times. All three times had not been when Attea and, Worf had lived here. Attea must have heard talk of the occurrences and, devised her own noise-maker. She would know that it was time to run. It wasn't Worf. Somebody was breaking in again. This time, the apartment was occupied. Denise's entire mouth went dry.


Denise was up in a shot. It'd be a good idea to turn on some lights and scare them off but, they might be high so, that wouldn't be a great idea. She tried the light switch, on a hunch. Nothing happened. Now this was treading more and more, into frightening territory. They'd cut the power? Did they know somebody was here? Trying not to think about all of those implications, Denise opened the door and, raced into Attea's bedroom. She dove under her bed, grabbing up the base ball bat under there. "MM- Denise? What's-"

"Attea," Denise whispered, trying to keep the panic out of her voice, "go next door. The Knifers. don't argue with me, sweetie. Go now. Emergency." Attea dove out of the window next to her bed, with Denise's help. Attea ran her chubby little self across the back yard towards the Knifer's place. Denise growled under her breath. "Okay, bastards, lets go." She tore back into the hallway with the baseball bat held high, right into three men armed with knives. The fight was on. She started swinging the baseball bat. Much swearing, and, shouting insured. Denise took a moment to appreciate the fact that she was a six foot tall woman engaging in, what amounted to, a battle to the death with three grown men, all armed with knives. There she was. Her hair in a sloppy pony tail, grey tank top, black sweat pants and, nothing else. Fighting for all she was worth. Denise screamed and, tapped into her martial arts training. though she fought dirty too, kicking one guy in the nuts. But, suddenly, her pony tail was snatched. The pain! "GAH!"

"Stupid bitch!" A voice snarled in Denise's ear. The large man who grabbed her pony tail, also grabbed the ball she still struggled, Denise was caught. She tried tossing him. Nothing.

They would't get past her. They were not getting into that room. they weren't going after Attea. She'd sent Attea away but, what if somebody was waiting in the front as a look out? No. "Prick!" Denise snarled viciously, spitting on the man's face as he twisted her around. He back-handed her. Despite her fighting against it, everything faded to darkness.

Scene 3:

Sunshine blasted down upon this part of the world, in Watertown Massachusetts as Dave, Solvig, Attea and, Pebble, still in her wheelchair, walked together down Beacon street. They gathered on the sidewalk in front of the street crossing that'd take them across Beacon street and, to their destination, Walter's Diner. David spoke in his clipped, crisp British accent. "Lets do be cautious of cars, shall we? Be quite a lot of paper work if I had to write incident reports about squashed students." He said cheerfully. Attea laughed.

Solvig clung more solidly to Pebble's wheelchair. The group from Perkins school for The Blind awaited the talking signal that'd tell them that it was safe to proceed. "Get ready." Pebble warned. Solvig held onto Pebble's wheelchair back and, the signal went off. Chirping like an Oriole on cocaine. "go!" pebble declared. The car came from nowhere.

Attea and Dave had gone a little ahead of the wheelchair. pebble, despite the pain, surged out of the chair and, threw Dave backwards. She had to lung for Attea. She tossed her back wards too. Attea landed in Dave's lap in the black wheelchair. pebble had heard the car coming down the street at full speed. It was not going to stop for the traffic signal.

"PEBBLE!" Dave shouted, Getting up after Attea had gotten off of his lap. Solvig started to go out into the road after pebble. Attea caught her arm. Solvig whimpered, begging in Russian. Dave and, Attea winced as they heard the impact of the car hitting Pebble. Pebble's seven foot frame was hurled over the roof of the car and, she came down hard behind the car. The other cars had thrown themselves into drive or, pulled onto the sidewalk or, parked willy nilly, attempting to get out of the way of the mad driver. People screamed.

Amazingly, astoundingly, pebble clambered back to her feet. She was dazed, staggering, and shaking her head. Even more shockingly, the car car tried again to hit pebble, reversing itself with a smokey squeal of tires. Dave would recall every detail of that moment. pebble standing there in the sunlight, clad in a white T-shirt, her honey blonde hair slipping out of her braid a bit, faded blue jeans, motorcycle boots...all of it. the car came for her, backward this time and, Dave looked away. Attea saw what happened though. pebble somehow gathered her wear with all and, jumped onto the car, tore her shirt off and, wrapped her hand inside of it. She put her fist through the driver's side window The driver ended up crashing into a newspaper stand, sending the Boston Harold and, pedestrians flying everywhere. She jumped down. "Pebble is going to kill them."

"I am inclined to agree, Attea." David mused to, mostly, himself. Dave saw something that made him wince. He couldn't believe this. Pebble broke the neck of the driver, via a quick twist of the man's skull. A passenger got out of the car and pointed his gun straight at Pebble. But, pebble dropped. Bullets riddle the side of a deserted house. Least Dave hoped it had been. Pebble tackled the man to the ground and, the most visceral, primal, vicious struggle began. Pebble and, what must've been a three hundred pound man or better, rolled into the street, exchanging brutal blows. finally, Pebble manage to get the man in a lock from behind, her legs around his neck. He started to slam the butt of the hand gun he held into Pebble's skull. that was, until she leaned back and, flexed her legs. There was a sickening popping sound. The man went limp. She'd crushed his wind pipe. "Bloody hell." Dave breathed. Pebble used the building beside her to help herself to her feet. A few moments later, police sirens could be heard. "Come on. lets help."

Pebble knew she had a concussion. She told Dave this as they hurried up to her. She could feel that her nose was shattered...again. Damn it. "I can't sleep though," she huffed, "concussion." She saw a little boy with a fountain drink. She walked over to the boy. "I need that." He didn't want to give it up but, he did after one look at pebble's face.

"But, it was mine." He protested as Pebble took it.

He was only half offering it. Pebble told him, "I'll get you another." And, tore the top off. Splashing her face with the icy liquid. "Better." She sighed, shaking the worst of it out of her stinging sapphire eyes. She coughed suddenly and, felt thick fluid pop into her hand. There was the metallic taste a moment later. Blood. Her ribs were broken. "Damn."

"Pebble, what the bloody hell was that?" Dave wanted to know. He'd seen the entire thing, thanks to the fact that the car didn't get too far down the street before crashing. A mess.

"I can't believe they broke my ribs. Pebble muttered to herself before answering Dave's question. "That was an assassination attempt, Dave. I need the hospital. Solvig, with me."

END: Fucking love you, Derri! Thanks, mate!