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Reading books fiction Have you ever thought about what fiction is? Probably, such a question may seem surprising: and so everything is clear. Every person throughout his life has to repeatedly create the works he needs for specific purposes - statements, autobiographies, dictations - using not gypsum or clay, not musical notes, not paints, but just a word. At the same time, almost every person will be very surprised if he is told that he thereby created a work of fiction, which is very different from visual art, music and sculpture making. However, everyone understands that a student's essay or dictation is fundamentally different from novels, short stories, news that are created by professional writers. In the works of professionals there is the most important difference - excogitation. But, oddly enough, in a school literature course, you don’t realize the full power of fiction. So using our website in your free time discover fiction for yourself.



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Read books online » Fiction » Howl by Brieanna Boyce (chrome ebook reader txt) 📖

Book online «Howl by Brieanna Boyce (chrome ebook reader txt) 📖». Author Brieanna Boyce



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straight into the belly of the beast the towers leering down at me. I didn’t pay them any mind. I thought of the money that was carelessly crumpled in my pocket and the large amount that was in my backpack. I could’ve gone to the upper side of New York City but the formality itched uncomfortably. So I headed down town to Brooklyn, I must have walked around for hours. Everything seemed more dismal then I remember it being, when I had first come to New York everything was awe inspiring even the most dangerous places. Now it seemed overcrowded, too loud, it seemed as you walked the streets everyone was concerned only for themselves. They didn’t notice the beautiful lights or the electronic symphonies; their world was too small for them to comprehend the wholeness of it. “I have a meeting, I am going to be late, I need to get there before they close.” It was not as if I could read their minds, I couldn’t but it seemed obvious to me; pure fact. There worlds had narrowed to themselves and their friends even their enemies. It revolved around the pointless missions they told, no they gave themselves though in truth those small errant’s meant nothing. They were acting little more than scurrying rats. The only person who seemed to understand this façade of importance was a hobo laid out on the side of the street. His hair had gone gray and his eyes squinty, his face was worn no doubt from the outside conditions. All his clothes seemed to have holes in them and he held one cardboard sign. It didn’t say help, it didn’t say spare change, and no it read one word “Godlessness.” I smiled at the man and bent to his side as the other people scurried away cradling their phones and talking about nothing of importance. I took a handful of crumpled bills from his pocket grabbed his hand and stuck the money in it then held my hands over his. I grinned, leaned over and kissed his cheek, “Have faith,” was all I said and then I got up, turned, and walked away.

Moments later I heard the man call to me that I was an angel. To this I could only laugh, so often does the devil wear an angel’s mask.

I continued my journey until I finally reached some form of destination. There it was a loft; it said “space for rent,” on a sign in the front. It wasn’t the most beautiful place, but I didn’t much care much I walked in and knocked on the nearest door. I opened it to see a unkempt boy, probably in his late twenties. He had curly blonde hair and a scraggly short beard. He wore a beanie and rectangular thick rimmed glasses, complimented with a flannel shirt and ripped- faded skinny jeans.

He looked me up and down, “Hello there darling,” leaning against the door. “What brings you here to my humble abode chick-a-Dee?”

“I would like to see the space that’s for rent.”

The boy smirked, “Aren’t you a little young?”

I shrugged, “Does it matter?”

The boy shrugged and led me down the hall and up a set of stairs; I followed after him and to a door up at the top. It had a downstairs a loft, a bathroom and a kitchen, in my mind it might as well have been the Taj Mahal.

“It’s not that big…” the boy said scratching his head. “Nonsense,” I smiled, “It is more than enough.” I actually began getting excited. I envisioned an array of ideas for this place. I defiantly could see it becoming a home to me. “I’ll take it, how much?”

The boy grinned excited, “Really?”

“Yeah,” I grinned, “How soon can I move in?”

The boy shrugged, “whenever.”

I smiled and handed him $100,000, “That enough?”

“Perfect,” the boy smiled.

“Great,” I smiled, dropping my things.

“Wait… You’re moving in now?”

“Yeah,” I smiled sheepishly.

The boy sighed and took my wrist “Come on,” he said leading me downstairs.

“Where are we going?” I asked.
“I’ll let you stay in my apartment for a bit.”

“Really,” I smiled “That’s really nice of you.”

“Yeah,” the boy said begrudgingly, “I’ll let you stay until you can get a bed up there.”

“Okay,” I smiled, the boy let go of my wrist and went through his pockets until he found a key and clumsily unlocked the door. He opened it and I followed inside, gaping. He had a loft too, but much larger windows that took up half the room; he had chic furniture and abstract paintings everywhere aisles were stacked on every wall. Unfortunately, his house was just as filthy as it was artistic. He had wrappings and dirty silverware, take out bags and boxes everywhere clothes littered his floor.

He led me into his kitchen which was just as filthy and made me some herbal tea. “ If you want I could help you clean maybe make a few dinners…”

He sighed, as if I’d said something really dumb, “Oh they have gotten you too I see.”

He had the back of his hand against his forehead in an overly theatrical way. “They’ve gotten me huh?” I said through sipping the tea he gave me.

“Yes,” he waved his room over the mess, “this “mess” as you call it is eclectic inspiration for my art. It is a freedom for expression.”

“I see,” I said smiling holding back my laughter.

“You don’t believe me?” The boy narrowed his eyes.

“Not a lick of it,” I said grinning, “but I appreciated the show,” I said standing up, “By the way what’s your name.”

He smiled and bowed, “I go by many, but you may call me Kip.”

I raised an eyebrow laughed, and walked out of the room and into the living room. I shoved the piles of crap from the couch grabbed a nearby blanket and crashed on the couch.

When I woke up in the morning Kip had left so I rolled up my sleeves and cleaned his house top to bottom. Then I made him a REAL dinner, covered it, and left it in the microwave. I then left with my backpack and went to a mattress store, bought one, and asked them to deliver it to Kip’s address.

I than went on a search for a job, I looked everywhere I than checked out a bar and walked up to the bartender. I asked if there were any jobs available. She looked back and called out to her manager. The man was tall, had dark hair, silver eyes, pale sin was unbelievably good looking, and from what I could tell, a vampire.

He took one look at me and asked, “Are you applying for a job?”

I nodded.

He looked me up and down once, sighed and nodded, “fine you’re hired.”

The bartender clearly was pissed, “Shouldn’t you ask her a few more questions?”
The vampire looked at me, “What’s your name?”

“My name’s Raven.”

“Well Raven,” my new manager said, “be here at 10:00…. Make sure you look…”

I nodded, “slutty, I got it,” I said then walked out and to a bunch of stores. Mainly, the cheapest ones I could find. Then I walked home with my bags of clothes and put them upstairs. Then I made my way downstairs and saw Kip in the kitchen shoveling my food into his mouth.

I smiled, “enjoying it?”

“Yeah it’s great!” he exclaimed excitedly then when he finished he threw his dishes into the sink. His look changed from giddy excitement to curiosity. “So are you like a runaway or something?”

I shrugged, “I suppose you could say that.”

“You don’t seem like you’re intimidated by New York.”

“I’m not,” I said, “I’ve been here before.”

Kip nodded, “cool man.”

I nodded, “Yep.”

Kip went back to painting and I just passed the time by watching, I found it amazing the way a few brush strokes turned into something beautiful. Before I knew it, it was 9:30so I headed upstairs and took a shower then put on a tight shirt that had a slit going down my back a short skirt and high heels. I let my hair stay down and put on makeup giving my eyes a “Smokey look.”

I then headed downstairs, out of the house and into a cab. The weather was getting rather cool in fact winter was soon coming and now was not the time of year you wanted to be dressing like I was. I know it’s crazy, “Why would she even bother getting a job when she has all that money?” Well I have a few reasons for that One; I need something to kill time, and two it was a good way to observe vampires. For someone who was one I didn’t really understand much about them. I mean I met Tristan and Delilah but I wanted to see if they were all the same I mean vampires couldn’t be all bad right?

Finally I got out of the cab when it stopped and handed the cab driver his money plus a fairly good tip and got out. I looked at the bar in awe; it was completely different then from how it looked this evening. When I’d originally walked in it looked like a regular bar, nothing special. Now, in the middle of the night it looked dark and beautiful. It had an eerie red glow, when I walked in the music was something odd, somehow it had a new age sound but with undertones of something tribal and sacred. I looked around, and right away knew this was a vampire scene. Beautiful, flawless creatures were scattered all around with a few unsuspecting humans sprinkled in. Their bodies flowing like ribbons around one another, a slow and sultry dance that was really quite enthralling. However, I shook my head and managed to focus on the task at hand. I walked over to the owner whom I was relieved to find He seemed rather pleased to see me himself. I stood there for a moment unsure of what to do and staring at the owner blankly looking for some form of direction. When I received none I simply walked up to people sitting in booths and asked what they wanted. I was surprised at how easy it was really no one ordered food although it was offered. Then again most of the time when someone comes to an upscale bar there hungers are not of the typical food and drink. Even when hungry for liquor and attention one was usually hungering for something deeper. Perhaps not emotionally deeper perhaps an even more primal unconscious motivator was responsible. (Oh, Freud would be so very proud. Then again that was not such a good thing.)

It seemed fitting, made sense somehow that vampires lurked here, in these chic bars dressed to impress. After all this was a place of sin, a place in which one can quench one’s thirst no matter how barbaric. It seemed more fitting that this would be the place that vampires and humans could intermingle. If man and vampire had one thing in common it would be hunger. Even werewolves couldn’t say they were without hunger, it was necessary for survival. Although, we have cell phones and computers we could never get away from our primal demands. Like the she-wolf’s demand that I “mate” with Kale. I felt a blush creep up my cheeks but I shook it off. Kale wasn’t around and I had no one to blame but myself.
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