Yes, another Johnny chapter! Do enjoy…

x06: The Googler’s Proposition

Johnny shuffled the cards, giving a small smile to the nerds gathered about the table. They were a small group, but enough for his purposes. Four lads and the one girl, Sweet Caroline, and no one could ever work out just why she was there – but she always had been. He ran a hand through his orange hair, and dealt the cards with flair.

‘Thank you for joining me, gentlemen.’ He said, ignoring Caroline’s scowl. She’d been around so long they often forgot to think of her as female, she was just another part of the group. ‘As I have already said, I have some interesting news in regards to world domination.’

‘We got that.’ Daniel replied, his voice level. ‘And what plan do you have for us this month, Badfingers? Laser death ray? Please don’t tell me you googled the instructions for lightsabers again. They just don’t work the way they should.’ Johnny shook his head, this was far better. He turned to the shelf behind, retrieving a stack of papers he’d printed earlier. The top was a picture of the puzzle, the object that would allow them to control everything the world had to offer.

‘Um, yay? Please don’t tell us you bought that off eBay with the domination funds…’ Caroline sighed. Johnny shook his head again, annoyed that they didn’t seem to understand. Quietly he explained the existence of the organisation, this CONTRA thing, of the pirates and the gypsies, zombies and everything else they’d ever theorised – how it was all true and all just waiting for their control. The others didn’t seem very easily convinced.

‘We would have to see it.’ Said Anthony finally, the others echoing their agreement. Johnny frowned and stroked the beard he’d been trying to grow since his first year of high school, shuffling through the papers for something a little easier to find than the puzzle.

‘Aha!’ he pulled another document he’d printed, the details of hideouts and popular haunts of unsavoury characters. If they managed to find one of these places, it would confirm the existence of this world, of the organisation, and therefore of the puzzle. With evidence like that, there would be no reason not to go in search of it. ‘To the Drunken Roo we go?’

Mmmmm, Melbournian goodness. This is (hopefully) where things start to get interesting.

x05: Walking ‘Round The Rainy City

They walked the streets of Melbourne through an eerie warm rain. The conversation had turned from doom and gloom to Fade’s stomach, and Ilse’s refusal to stop at the nearest kebab shop. She kept insisting they needed to get Erica safe, but from what she still wasn’t sure. The brief explanation she’d got was in no way satisfactory, and other than telling her that nightmare imps were relatively harmless – neither Fade nor Ilse would say much more on the matter. Apart from the initial information that they were friends of her mother, she still knew very little about them. But it seemed she had no real choice, and followed along – trying not to get dragged into Fade’s whining for food.

‘We’re almost there, don’t worry.’ Ilse reassured her, as they came upon Flinders St station. The rain was starting to get heavier, and Erica was glad when they headed down the steps into the underpass to the platforms, though she was sure this was usually closed when the station did. But the other two seemed to know where they were going, leading her through the subway and towards a small grey door she’d not seen before. Fade pulled a brick from the wall, pressing his hand to the glass surface behind. The door opened, revealing a large corridor made mostly of glass and stainless steel.

‘Welcome to your new home, eh?’ Fade grinned, or at least – the edges of his beard twitched, and some tooth shone through. The corridor was cool, and Erica slung her bag off her shoulder, looking around for a bit. A tall figure was coming down the hall towards them, and she dropped the bag as she realised it was none other than Brown Michael.

‘Thank you Fade, thank you Ilse.’ He said, his voice as smooth as she remembered. He was wearing a different suit today, which was good. Erica liked when people changed their clothes. ‘You may go join the others now, we will meet back with you soon.’ Nodding at Brown, the two headed off further down the corridor, leaving Erica dumbstruck with a slightly amused Brown Michael before her. ‘Not quite what you expected, is it?’ he said – turning about and gesturing for her to walk with him. She picked up her bag again. Erica wasn’t sure where she was, or what was going on, or even if this was just some sort of stupid dream. It definitely felt like one, but the scars on the bottom of her foot felt otherwise.

‘Your mother was not an accountant, Erica, although I’m sure you’ve realised that by now. Your mother was an agent with CONTRA, an international organisation formed to ensure harmony between the human and supernatural worlds. This is our Melbourne base, Fade and Ilse are two of our best operatives.’ He walked as smoothly as he talked, and Erica was struggling to work out whether his feet touched the ground at all. He just seemed to glide on.

‘You may have noticed that neither Ilse nor Fade are human?’ he asked, assuming she had – although she’d not noticed at all. ‘We employ very few humans here. There is something about the human mind that makes it very hard for them to accept the supernatural existence, let alone protect it. Our job is primarily keeping the supernatural world a secret, and ensuring that rogue creatures don’t get it into their heads to interfere with human life.’ He shrugged. ‘Which they are wont to do, particularly the nastier varieties. Although the worst by far are the pirates and gypsies.’ He sighed.

‘Aren’t they human..?’ Erica asked, confused now.

‘Technically, yes. Which makes them all the more dangerous for having that understanding of human life. Pirates and gypsies are humans who have accepted a life in the supernatural world, and turned worse for it. They are not quite the pirates of your movies, Erica – but they are set on plundering and destroying, the term is apt enough.’ He explained, turning another corner soundlessly. Erica was struggling to keep up, both with the explanation and with the pace at which Brown was walking.

‘So what are Fade and Isle then? They looked pretty normal to me.’

‘Ilse is a vampire, but you needn’t be afraid of her. She’s not a fan of human blood, and hunts far from here. Fade is a werewolf, and…’ Brown rolled his eyes just a little. ‘Far too fond of fast food to be a concern in that respect.’ Suddenly the doglike tactics of the man seemed to make sense, as did Ilse’s pale skin. A slight shiver ran down her back as she realised not only had she followed two complete strangers through the city, she’d followed two completely inhuman and dangerous strangers through the city to a place she wasn’t even sure she could get out of. She wanted to trust Brown Michael, but all of this was getting far too weird for her.

‘Erica, your mother wasn’t killed by a piano.’ He said softly, stopping a moment. ‘She was killed in a skirmish against the pirates. Gloria volunteered for a mission to retrieve an artefact we consider quite precious, and lost her life in the process.’

‘And you said she was killed by a piano? You couldn’t have thought of something more realistic?’ Erica was in a state of sudden shock, the revelations into her mother’s actual life were outlandish and yet they fit with the Gloria she’d known. Always off on a ‘mission’, setting off across the world – no wonder she’d been tired when she was home. Still, the piano story compared to the truth was still baffling.

‘There aren’t many realistic deaths that can befall an accountant on duty.’ Brown shrugged. ‘It was the best we could think of in the situation.’

‘You couldn’t have gone with car accident? Plane crash? Mugged and murdered?’

‘We didn’t think of that. Come, I’ll introduce you to the rest of the team. They were quite fond of your mother; it’ll be good for them to meet you.’

Segment Count: 1,009

Wordcount: 3,986

Yay! Finally some action! Woo for blood and guts.

x04: Finesse Is Overrated

For all her insistence that she was okay, Erica slept restlessly that night. Her dreams were fragmented, the only part of which she would clearly remember was the pianos falling as she ran through a narrow street, trying to escape the same fate that had befallen her mother. She tossed in her bed, mumbling and grumbling, and as one of the imaginary pianos finally landed on her, she woke with a start, breathing heavily and staring ahead with wide eyes.

Two beady black eyes stared back. It was standing on her chest, roughly a half a foot high and covered in a rough dark skin that she couldn’t quite place the colour of. It’s belly was round, and it’s body almost as big, it had short arms with slight claws, and from the prickling on her chest she guessed the feet were much the same. She tried not to breathe, unsure of what would happen, should she disturb the creature.

Slowly Erica became aware of other things in the room. The open window, the slight breeze. The prickling across her legs that felt oh-so similar to the prickling of the first creature’s feet. Cautiously, she turned her head to the side a little, just enough to see past the imp blocking her view.

There were thousands of them. Crawling about her bed, on her bed and on her. She jumped before she could think of a more appropriate reaction, throwing herself off the bed and dislodging those that were crawling across her. Searching the immediate space for a weapon, all she found was her bedside lamp. Tearing the power cord out of the wall, she brandished it wildly, kicking at the imps around her feet. They began to scatter, instead launching themselves from the bed to cling to her hair and pyjamas, she tried to hit them back before they landed but they were coming thick and fast. Stopping to wrench them off only gave more the opportunity to attach themselves to her, and she was fast seeing no way to win. Whatever had inspired this dream, it was horrible.

They were sensing her weakness, and had started gathering around her feet again, with the braver ones attempting to climb her leg. She stomped angrily, cringing at the sickening crunch as she got one straight on the head. It mewled pathetically, and she ground her foot in to be sure. It didn’t move when she lifted her foot, which was now covered in a sticky grey goop – and Erica was sure she didn’t want to know what that was. There was no time to get girly now though, and she brought her foot down on another of the imps, trying to block out the sound of the crunching and the feel of the claws as they pierced the bottom of her foot, trying to escape. Two down, two thousand to go.

Erica employed both feet now, stomping madly and thrashing wildly with the lamp as more opted to find high ground and attack from above. A lucky swing had one flying out the window, and it finally seemed that she had the upper hand. The imps were retreating fast, but that wasn’t enough – she ignored the pain in her heels and continued to squash, chasing them back towards the window they had come from.

Behind her, the bedroom door opened. She stopped squashing imps, and turned to face her new attackers – a pale woman in a red dress and a scruffy looking man who probably hadn’t shaved since 1974.

‘Stay right where you are.’ She warned, threatening them with the lamp. Perhaps they weren’t six inches tall, but she would take them all the same! The woman held up her hands, the man shaking his head. The imps were getting brave again, inching forward and away from the window sill while Erica’s attention was taken away.

‘We’re here to help you.’ Said the woman.

‘We’re friends of your mother’s.’ Said the man, and both lunged forward to help against the imps. Their attack methods were far different from Erica’s, the man on all fours down with the creatures, ripping them apart with his teeth of all things. The woman lifted them one by one, twisting their necks and tossing them out the window. Standing by the window, Erica stopped fighting – only kicking away the braver ones as they came near, watching as the two strangers cleared the room. This was all well and good, but she wondered what would happen when they ran out of imps, and there was only herself left in the room.

With the last imp destroyed, the man stood. The woman groaned, pointing to the floor – which was now littered in torn flesh and the same grey goop that covered Erica’s feet.

‘Must you always make such a mess?’ she sighed, reaching into her handbag and finding a pouch. The man shrugged, wiping at his jaw with the sleeve of his shirt. There were bits of imp still caught in his beard, Erica was tempted to say something – but the teeth that lurked behind that bushy face looked fearsome, and she held back.

‘We can’t all have your finesse, Ilse.’ He shrugged as the woman pulled out a pouch. He took it, opened it, and scattered the contents across the floor. Where it touched the bodies of the imps it shimmered, blue, pink and green before disappearing – taking the mess with it. He tossed the bag back towards Ilse, nodding to Erica. ‘You aren’t safe here. The imps are just a warning. I don’t even wanna know what they’re going to send after you next.’

‘Don’t scare the poor girl.’ Ilse snapped, putting her arm around Erica’s shoulder and guiding her out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. ‘But Fade is quite right, I’m afraid. They weren’t fond of your mother; chances are they’re going to be looking out for you too. Pack your bag, Erica. We’ll find you somewhere safe to stay for the time being.

Segment Count: 1,002

Wordcount: 3,057

Yes, this is my third update in four hours. Aren’t you proud? Introducing today, Johnny.. my other MC! Some of you may remember him from Under_Score… he was too awesome to leave behind. Expect computer humour. Expect it well.

x03: Those Who Can’t Throw – Hack

Johnny was angry. This was the third time he’d been failed for physical education, and it was simply not on. He failed to see the importance of it at all: who cared what Bill Gates or Steve Jobs scored on a fitness test? No one, and both were highly successful men! Admittedly, Johnny was interested how each would do in a cage fight against the other, but this was entirely different to his current dilemma. One day he was sure he’d be successful enough to get away with missing beep tests and playing basketball, but for now – he needed to fake it.

Luckily, the internet was good for things like that. Luckily, his teachers kept all of their grades stored in an online folder. Johnny found it amusing that they’d taken this route to prevent students from stealing computers as a means of avoiding bad grades, in reality – they’d just made it easier. He started up the browser, breathing a sigh of nerdly delight as Google greeted him. Ah, the internet – where no one cared that he was a red head. Within a few keystrokes, he sent himself straight to the school website, and the teacher’s folders located within the core folder.

He’d done this thousands of times, the clicks came easily as if done by macro – but today something was off. Too late he noticed an error in the address bar, and hack.bot had already cracked the passcode to the folder. Files spilled out across the page, lists of links to documents that were far from what he was looking for. Whatever CONTRA was, he wasn’t interested. But he was here now, and there was no harm in poking around a little. Clicking a random link, he waited impatiently as the document took all of three seconds to load.

PRADLUBTS PUZZLE – SIX PIECE GATEWAY

What followed was a strange mix of facts, and what he assumed to be fiction. Johnny was a nerd, but even he was not nerdish enough to insist that werewolves were real. He theorised on zombie invasions, but he certainly didn’t realistically see them happening. He read through the contents of the file, confused and intrigued by the concept of a puzzle that would unlock untold powers. If he had that, he was sure that there would be no further drama with PE teachers and the like. He wouldn’t even have to program a world standard operating system in order to get nerd respect: he would be feared, and that was an idea that Johnny liked very much.

Still. It was all sounding very fictitious. He got the sinking feeling he’d stumbled upon the bad writings of some wannabe author blogger, perhaps their planning notes for a story, or something else equally ridiculous. He frowned. There was really only one way to find out whether this was for real or not. Forgetting completely about his earlier mission, he started a new one. And this he would need backup for. Without a second thought, he loaded up Twitter.

@JohnnyBadfingers World domination possible. Poker at mine, 7.30 Sunday.

And so it started.

Segment Count: 515

Wordcount: 1975

Hello readers! Those of which I have got in the past hour that Nano has been going for. Shout out to Muggs and Silverwolf, YAY! Enter a rather boring chapter. I guess all novels, even the awesome ones, need a boring moment.

x02: Home Alone XXIV

Returning home, the house was quiet as always. If she concentrated, she could pretend it was quieter than normal, but this – she told herself – was simply her mind playing tricks and telling her it
ought to be quieter with her mother gone. In truth, she’d never really been there to make noise. None of her family had attended the funeral, which was a blessing in a way – they weren’t here to sit and talk, she didn’t have to wait them out, counting down the minutes until they went away. Her mother had been an only child and the only family she had left was on her father’s side. Her father was living in America now, her aunts scattered across England and Ireland. They had pretended they wanted to be there for her, she’d reassured them it wasn’t needed. She would survive.

Quietly she discarded the jacket she’d worn for the ceremony, folding it neatly and sitting it on the ironing board to be sent for dry cleaning. Stepping out of her shoes, she went about cleaning up the breakfast dishes, the same routine she followed every day. The phone rang as she was closing the dishwasher, and she sighed. More sympathies she didn’t need, but it wasn’t polite to leave them hanging. She picked up the phone.

‘Hello?’

‘Hey sweetheart.’ Her father’s voice sounded distant over the phone, yet it was still hard to believe he was half a day behind her. She wondered what the exact time was over there, and whether he’d stayed up waiting for the funeral to finish just to call. She wished he wouldn’t. ‘How are you coping?’

‘Same as always, Dad.’ She replied. ‘Mum’s not here, it’s really not any different.’

‘It is a little different…’ he argued. ‘Look, I can book you tickets to come over here any time you like, you know. Or I’ll come over there. It’s really not too much trouble.’ He was starting to get that pleading tone to his voice again. Erica rolled her eyes, glad he couldn’t see.

‘Dad, we discussed this. I’m okay. There’s only a few weeks of the school year left, I’ll finish up here, and then I’ll fly over and live with you for a bit. I know you can get me into school over there, you’ve told me six hundred times. I can look after myself, I promise you that.’

‘I just don’t want you getting lonely and sad out there, that’s all.’ Her father’s voice sounded just a little defeated.

‘I know, Dad.’ She replied, feeling just a little sorry for him. It wasn’t his fault he was stuck all the way out there, but there really wasn’t any point in him coming to get her just yet. ‘I really am fine though. I’ll see you in December, okay?’

‘Okay.’ He conceded. ‘But you call if you need anything.’

‘I will. Love you.’

‘Love you too.’ She hung up the phone. Silence at last. Closing the dishwasher, she headed towards her bedroom. There was a maths test on Friday, there was no sense losing marks to a grief she didn’t feel.

Segment Count: 520

Wordcount: 1460

Welcome to Nano09, and the first chapter/scene of my story. I’ll be blogging them as they’re finished. Keep in mind, this has NOT been edited, nor will it probably ever be. This is rough draft at it’s absolute finest, the following was written in perhaps half an hour… completely forgetting I possess a backspace key. Without further ado, I introduce to you: Erica Sharpe, and Pianos in Paris…

x01: It’s Brown AND Michael

Gloria Sharpe was an accountant with Brown & Michael. She wore sensible skirts and shoes, she always had a pencil and she spent most of her time flying about the world to do accounting for those too rich to do it themselves. Gloria was a good accountant, but the most important thing about Gloria right now, was that she was dead.

Her daughter Erica stood among the mourners and tried to count the ones she knew. After a while they all looked the same, comb-overs in charcoal suits on weedy frames. At least her mother had been a little stylish, and apparently well-loved. It seemed half the accounting world had come to see her off. One of the women towards the back appeared to be crying, and this worried Erica a little. Ever since the news of the horrible piano-drop accident in Paris, Erica was yet to experience the deep sense of loss she assumed would come with a parent’s death. With a frown, she pulled her pet rock from her pocket, holding it carefully so no one would see.

‘I suppose you knew her better than I did,’ she whispered quietly into her hands. Rocko was one of the few gifts her mother had left her, a strange attempt at humour. All Erica had ever wanted was a cat, a dog – or anything else she could talk to while her mother was away. But Gloria’s absences had always been a constant reason for not getting one: one day, Erica would move out of home, and then what? Instead, she’d been given this – a pet rock. It light brown, and smooth – oddly shaped as though someone had tried to stand it up on the wrong side and it had slumped over. Some clever person had stuck googly eyes on, knitted it a scarf in blue and green, as if trying to hide the fact it was an inanimate object. Erica couldn’t say she loved it, she couldn’t even say she’d appreciated it all that much when Gloria had first handed it over, but she did know now that this rock was all she had to remember her mother by.

The ceremony ended quietly, mourners dispersing in a range of expensive cars. Erica turned and faced the edge of the cemetery, wondering whether it was more polite to leave with the others, or if she was expected to stay and mourn some more. As she dithered, accountants stopped by to give their condolences, words she brushed off with a polite nod. There really wasn’t more to say, the accountants – like the rock, were probably more familiar with Gloria than her own daughter was. Not that Erica was bitter, she liked her independence, but it was a fact. Erica liked facts. They kept the world on a nice level.

Unwinding the scarf from her neck, she took a few more purposeful steps towards the roadside, where a car would be waiting to take her home. It was then that a tall, powerful looking man blocked her way, bowing just a little out of respect. He was different to the other accountants. He wore a pinstripe suit, he didn’t look as though he would melt in harsh sunlight. He had broad shoulders and probably would have been handsome, if it were not for the fact he was clearly well past his forties and therefore (in Erica’s word) quite disgusting in that respect.

‘My deepest sympathies, Ms Sharpe.’ He said. ‘Your mother was a great woman.’

‘So I’ve heard.’ She acknowledged. ‘You all miss her dearly, it makes me glad to see she had so many friends.’ It was really all she could say. Anything else would be a lie. Gloria wasn’t a bad mother, but nor was she spectacular. She had seen that Erica had clothes, food, and a good education. Many others had much less, Erica was grateful for what she did have.

‘Allow me to introduce myself, I was your mother’s employer. Brown Michael.’ He said, his voice deep and rich. It sent strange chills down Erica’s spine, and she wasn’t sure why. He looked both as harmless as a fly, and menacing as a tiger. She couldn’t quite place him.

‘Ah, you are Michael of Brown and Michael?’ she inquired politely.

‘No, I am Brown And Michael, ‘And’ is my second name.’ He corrected. Erica raised an eyebrow. The whole firm was named after him? How highly unusual. But she said nothing, having been taught to be more polite than that. She just nodded, smiled, and hoped he would go away soon. ‘Your mother was a good employee – one of the best we had. I hope to see you as part of our team someday.’

‘I’m glad you think so much of her.’ Erica said carefully, unsure of how to burst this man’s bubble. She was as far from her mother as one could get, she had no real head for numbers, and the prospect of accountancy sounded more like a jail term than a career move. ‘But I think my career lies in a different direction. However, if I change my mind – I shall certainly keep you in mind.’ There, that seemed to do it. A limo pulled up beside Brown, the driver climbing out to open the far back door.

‘I’m sure we will meet again, Ms Sharpe. Do keep us in mind, we would love to have you.’ He said, slipping into the limo and closing the door. As the shiny black car rolled away, Erica shook her head. What pushy people accountants had become these days! A career in accountancy?

Not if she could help it.

Wordcount: 940