Welcome to Gaia! ::

A strange place for a story to start, no? Our ‘heroine’, if she can be called such, is at work in Kerry’s Book Store, nestled in downtown Barrie. The Dunlop St. Store has been there quite a while - when a lot of the stores downtown fizzled, this one still stood. The men who owned it hadn’t sold, but they’d hired her the previous year, just a few months after Anianka’s eighteenth birthday in May of 2012. It was July 19th, 2013 now and she was out back, across from the Salvation Army store where the poor and homeless would congregate for supper later on - just across from the nucleus of the city, Barrie Bus Terminal. She watched people go to and from the Terminal while smoking a cheap Native cigarette. They didn’t always taste the best, but they were affordable.

Tweakers, losers, assholes... Anianka’s thoughts were of all the people she saw. Retards, niggers, Jews... By no means was she a racist; Anianka hated all races equally, including her own. If you asked her, and she was feeling particularly nice, she’d tell you she just hated humanity. “No one special,” she might say, “just all the people on Earth.”

She found it sickening that the whole town basically spider webbed from the Terminal, and the lake, Kepmenfelt Bay, not more than a two minute walk from where she stood now. And the city never did fix the Sunday and nighttime bus service to meet the demands of the growing population - which had been growing fairly steady since about nineteen ninety-five or so. It still only ran once an hour from seven pm on week- and Saturday nights, and once and hour from ten am to about six or seven pm on Sundays. At least during the week it was on the half hour

She snuffed out her smoke and went back in. She’d had three customers since her shift started at nine in the morning. And old woman and two young adults, probably no more than twenty fives years old each. The old woman had bought a romance novel; the young adults had gone for the fantasy and science fiction. Anianka preferred murder mysteries herself, but no one knew that except her and her bosses. And they were both drunks, so who cared?

Anianka working cash was more of her form of a joke. “Watch me fool people into thinking I’m somewhat normal!” she might have told a friend, if she had one. Besides, she needed the money for food, smokes, and shelter - and in that order, too.

About the only memories Anianka had were bad; her father beating her purple for not cleaning her room; the other kids teasing her in fifth grade for her home-pierced nose; the teachers telling her to take it out and her blunt refusal because she had the right to express herself. And OH! How furious those morons had been with her! How exquisitely pissed off they got when she told them NO! Had she ever been quite so happy since that day? Not that she could remember, but maybe...

A man, possibly in his mid-thirties, came into the store. They smiled at each other and he went to browsing the shelves near the back. He was almost an attractive man in Anianka’s mind, but for the most part she hated him before he even walked into the building. If he was feeling talkative she might slip him her number; she wasn’t adverse to sleeping with someone every now and again, even if she hated human kind. She was promiscuous, but she was safe about it.

She fixed her shirt to show a bit more cleavage and unzipped the sides of her skirt, upwards, to show more thigh. When she felt her appearance was ‘slutty’ enough she went out from behind the counter to fix some of the shelves a bit. He came back to the counter with a Stephen Davis novel, she likes his books, and when he looked at her she heard his breath catch in his throat. She turned, playing the innocent flirt, and she giggled on her way back to the counter.

“Hello.” she said, amiably and cutely. “Will that be all?”

He stuttered a bit before he got the reply of “all for the books, yeah.”
Real smooth, dude, she thought, then said “for the books?” and giggled.
After five minutes of poor flirting on his part, and gentle pressing on hers, she gave him her number and his book.

Another casualty of war, she mused to herself, slipping back to her usual morbid demeanor, zipping her skirt back down and re-readjusting her shirt.
She was studying human behavior in her spare time, reading up on it, watching people every chance she got. It was manipulation she was really learning, and OH! Was she ever getting GOOD at it! Just for shits and giggles, to see how easy she would bend the rest of the world to her will. It was nothing to her, and it was oh-so-fun. But the main reason was the power; she had power over people. That was what was important, that was what turned her on. He would probably call later tonight, or tomorrow evening.

You've been there? I LIVE there. Stupid Barrie, I hate it here. Haha.
I like Ontarian, personally. Also, the spell checker on Firefox says Ontarian is a real word, so yeah.

Next time you're in town, we should hook up or something. Haha.

Have a good one, anyways. I look forward to the rest of your opinion.

Hahaha. Yeah. She's the main character who goes through ordeals and must overcome.
Nice lady, huh?
She gets 'better,' heh.
I wanted to make a main character that people didn't like, because its something different.
Did I achieve such so far?

With flying colors, dear Tommy. I like it. Damn it's dark, though. Post more! I'm getting addicted.
-LD

Definitely post more- I intensly dislike Anianka, which is what makes it so interesting smile

As a young girl Anianka was mostly ignored by her mother and father. She pierced and tattooed because she felt real, and it had made them notice her. When she pierced her nose her mother had slapped her, but allowed her to keep the damned stud in. A week later her father had kicked her in the side several times for getting suspended. It had hurt, but it healed. It always healed after time. What mattered was the attention; they were noticing her, and not just giving her food and money and clothing to go out into the world with.

In sixth grade she’d begun smoking. She knew all about it, the bad news was everywhere. She didn’t care. Her father had yelled himself hoarse, and then just hauled off and beat her black from the waist to the neck. Less than five months later she’d been injured during gym class, the remnants of her bruises still a yellow-black on her soft stomach and breasts. The nurses and doctors had taken her from her parents and she’d been given to an equally uncaring, though not abusive, uncle who had ended up raping her at age fourteen. What a joke that had been. His p***s was so small it was no wonder he had to rape, it was the only way he’d ever get any. He did it again ten or twelve more time by the time she was seventeen, and then suffered a fatal heart attack in his sleep. He was forty eight. By that time she’d slept around with half the student body at her high school, Barrie North, male and female alike.

She’d turned to sex because it was the only time she really felt happy for the longest time, other than when she spoke to Italo. She’d met him a week before her uncle had raped her. When the b*****d died the only person she’s told the truth to was Italo. He told her she was brave, and most women were too scared to say anything even after the person died. Then her vowed he’s always be there if she needed him, and she’d said something she’d never meant to say to anyone, “I love you, Italo. Thank you.”

“I love you too, Princess Anianka. I mean it.”

Then she’d had to log off for school, and she felt sad to have to turn off the camera and go be among those loathsome idiots that everyone called her ‘peers’.

She did love Italo. He was the only person she really did love. Yes, she would be a hairdresser or something, and move to Italy to be with him, even if they were only friends forever. She was finally sure she was capable of loving someone, and it was Italo Imperioli. That made life easier for her, to a degree.

Unsure of what had drug up such painful memories Anianka took a shower and went to sleep. At first it was dreamless, but slowly she opened her eyes on the blood red sky of Maroque.

She moved her hand to rub her eyes and heard someone jump back. Bolting upright she had just enough time to see a small figure run behind a rock. Her blond hair fell in her face as she stood up, and she walked over to the rock, absently brushing the loose strands behind her ear.
“Hello?” she asked, softly. “Who’s there?”

When there was no response she turned to go, assuming who or whatever it was had run off. What a strange place this was, though. The landscape, the sky, the inhabitants she’s seen so far It was all so alien, so unique. So...
She stopped. Something ahead was glinting out in the black sand a little to the right of the path. The sun, at about the ten a.m. point in the sky, was reflecting off of something glass or metal, perhaps a weapon, it was too far to tell. If she could have a weapon she might feel safer. Next time the bird-wolf attacked she might not be able to get away - and how had she gotten away? There was no memory - one minute she saw it, the next it was morning and she was twenty feet down the path. Very curious, that. Where had it gone? Where had she gone?

Ah, but if that were a weapon! She began to run towards it, thirty feet, not too far... Twenty feet; a sword, perhaps... Ten; a dagger... Five; or a staff lodged in the earth... She stopped and bent down to examine it. A statue, roughly the size of a basket ball, lay at her feet. She tugged at her shorts and unshouldered her backpack, kneeling to lift it up and examine it; the metal was freezing cold despite the almost direct sunlight almost all morning. It was made of what looked like bronze, though she couldn’t be sure, and though it was so big it was very light. She looked it over and the sad face of a turtle looked back at her.

What the hell? She thought. A turtle statue in the black sand of a mountain in the middle of nowhere?

It was a curious item, and she wondered who dropped it there without noticing, Her hands began to go a light shade of blue, so she put the idol in her backpack and got moving again. She could see what looked like trees with black trunks and red leaves, and a slow, creeping fog around the bases.

“Wait!” A small, dark voice called.

She stopped and looked back; the small creature in front of her was maybe about four feet tall, blue skin and green hair. Her nose came out off her face about four inches, and there was a piercing on the left side. There were several piercings in her left ear, as well. Her outfit was just a strapless top and a short skirt. She had a long, lizard-like tail, and wore sandals on her small, lizard-like feet. Anianka stared into her bright oranges eyes, and the small monster advanced on her. Taking a step back Anianka’s eyes never left the eyes of the creature in front of her.

“Don’t go into the marsh alone. You’ll never come out again.” The creature told her. “I’m Kyonsei. I’ll go with you, but for the Gods sakes, don’t go alone!”

Kyonsei seemed urgent, distressed. Anianka stood apprehensive for a moment, then waved her forward. The two of them looked at each other for several moments, studying each other. Anianka adjusted the straps of her backpack, and the straps of her tank top. Kyonsei looked her up and down, from her fedora to her biker-style hiking boots which rode to mid-calf.

“What’s down in the foggy marsh?” Anianka finally asked. “Why is it dangerous?”

Kyonsei gave her a look as though Anianka should know, then said a single word; “Starblaze.”

“Who or what?”

“Starblaze is Monique’s pet snake. He’s over a hundred and fifty feet long, a real giant. He’ll eat you whole if you’re alone, but if there’s more than one he usually lets ‘em go.” She was staring off into the marsh, and looked contemplative. “Well, usually, but not always. You shouldn’t be all on your own in Maroque, Anianka. You could die or be killed and never get ******** that, I gotta go through the marsh to get to the lake!” Anianka surprised herself by saying so.

“Why? What’s at the lake?”

“I don’t know. But...” she closed her eyes for a moment, and then she was the one staring off into the marsh and looking contemplative. “Have you ever felt that you had to go somewhere? That nothing else mattered, because once you got there you would know what to do next, and why? There is something important waiting for me at the lake. I can feel it. I’m going to keep going until I either die or get there, whether you’re with me or not, so... If we’re going, lets go.”

Anianka turned and started walking back down the slope, and Kyonsei started to follow at a quicker pace, to be just a little ahead of her. They got in amongst the black trunks and wetlands, the little lizard-girl picking out a path. There were only bird calls now, all other noises save their footsteps had ceased.

Along the way Kyonsei said only two words; “stay alive.” When Anianka tried to ask her other questions, she ignored her. They walked in silence.