Chapter 3

Party on up.

Chapter Three

Killer Moves

 

            Yet another school day; to Willow it was pure torture despite that she did have friends there to keep her company. Willow adjusted the strap of her worn bag, trying to balance the heavy weight of it on her shoulder. Why did the school system have to make the books so heavy? It’s not like she’d be using all the information anytime soon in her life, or in her lifetime, for that matter.
            “Hey, Will.”
            She found that just when she was glazing away into her own thoughts, Viola showed up, unexpectedly.
            “Hey, Vi.”
            The next couple of minutes were filled with total silence. Viola respected that she didn’t like to talk on the way to school, or anytime else for that matter.
            “Guys, hey!”
            “Oh, great, here comes the lovelorn puppy dog,” Viola whispered to her grumpily.         Willow smiled. It was so obvious that Al had a little crush on her. Viola was a cool girl, very laid back. She respected that Willow didn’t talk often. Viola was much like her.
            “Hey…Viola…Willow…” Al greeted softly.    

Simultaneously, both Willow and Viola said, “Hi, Al.”
            “So, uh, what’s up?”
            Willow shrugged. “Nothing much. Same old, same old.”
            “I wish it wasn’t the same old. In fact, this place is starting to get pretty boring compared to the library.”
            Willow grinned. Al’s puns never ceased to cheer her up. Especially on a Friday.

_____

 

 

The phone rang just as Willow finished up her Algebra.
            “Yeah?”
            “Hey, Willow. You wanna have some real fun tonight?”
            “Where?”
            “I found this really cool club downtown. Called Blanca or something. You in?”
            “Don’t we need…ID’s to get in?”
            “Will...don’t worry. I’ll take care of that. You just worry about what you’re gonna wear.”

            “Well…”

            “Will, c’mon.”

            “I’ll go.”

            “Oh yeah!”

            “But not because I wanna have fun. I’m just going to get you off of my back.”

            “Right…I’ll see you then.”

            There was a click and the dial tone droned. Viola set the phone down on her desk and continued typing on her computer. She narrowed her eyes as she strived to get the details on fake ID’s just right. She smiled as PhotoShop did its job well. She printed out the ID’s and checked to make sure that they were covered in plastic. Satisfied, she threw them down on her bed and rummaged through her closet for a decent outfit to wear.

_____

 

            Allister just couldn’t shove the image of Willow out of his mind. Yeah, he would admit it. He was going gaga for her just like all the other guys were. Al rubbed his temples. His head throbbed with a sharp pain.
            “Jeez, must be all this history Mr. Montague assigned to us,” he said to himself. Al got up to get some Tylenol from the bathroom. As he choked the pills down with a glass of tap water, he noticed his reflection. God, that couldn’t be him. But it was.

Staring back at him in the mirror was an Al whose skin was unnaturally pale and had dark rings under his eyes. It must have been from all the obsessing he had been doing lately. Just over one girl. No, she wasn’t just any girl; she was special. He could feel it, sense it from within his soul. Something suddenly triggered inside of him. He wanted to call Willow.
            Al picked up the phone, the dial tone blaring. As he pressed each number, he got more and more nervous. It began to ring.
            “Please be home,” he chanted over and over again.
            “Hello?” a high voice asked.
            “Hi, um, is, uh, Willow home?”
            “Who’s this?”
            “I’m Al, a friend of hers from school.”
            “Really?” The voice sounded interested. “Well, Willow isn’t home right now, but when she is, I’ll tell her right away.”
            “Okay. Thanks. Bye.”
            “Bye.”
            He felt a pang of disappointment as he hung up. Al was beginning to think that he was becoming more like a stalker everyday.

_____

            Willow had simply slipped on a black turtleneck, a pair of black pants, combed her messy hair, and told Mike and Aggie that she was meeting Viola for a study session.     Thankfully they hadn’t asked her where. They would kill her if they knew. Willow ran swiftly down to the corner of the Papa John’s. The enticing aroma floated around lazily on the breeze like a drunken bird.
            “Hey, Willow,” said a voice behind her. Willow turned to see Viola done up with only a bit of makeup and a punk outfit that featured a white sleeveless shirt with camouflage cargo pants, a skull belt, hoop earrings, and a loose black tie hanging from around her bare neck.
            “So, what do you think?”
            “It’s…um…very authentic.”
            “Admit it,” Viola joked, playfully punching Willow in the arm, “you don’t know a thing about fashion.”
            “Well…”
            “Hmm? Admit it!”
            “Alright! I don’t know anything about fashion.”
            “Yeah, I can easily see that,” she said, pointing her thumb at Willow outfit. “Well, come on; let’s go to Blanca, but only one thing.”
            “What?”
            “Later, I’m gonna have to take you shopping.”
            “How would you pay for it?”
            “I have some money saved up. Come on! Let’s go.”

_____

            It was quiet and mysterious, like her. So much like her. Willow. Pierce sighed, ruffling his brown hair with his right hand. Everything felt so…so, well, messed up. He didn’t know what to do about his feelings for Willow. I can’t tell her. If only she knew. She probably didn’t, and there was absolutely no way he would tell her. What if Willow didn’t even feel the same way? He doubted it. Why in the world would such a gorgeous girl go out with an idiot like him?
            Somewhere in the dark, an owl hooted softly followed by a gust of wind rustling the bushes below. So peaceful, so quiet, so…cold. Pierce was so busy thinking that he didn’t even notice that goosebumps had erupted on his arms. He wrapped his arms around himself for warmth. It was so obvious that Willow didn’t even know she was so beautiful. Shivering, Pierce began to wish he had brought a coat out. Maybe someday he would tell her, but, to him, that was an unlikely solution.

_____

            Noisy. That was at least one word that perfectly described Blanca. Willow could barely hear Viola over the booming music and noise of the crowd. She had to plug her ears.
            “What?”
            “I said, ‘Isn’t this the coolest place ever?’”
            “Yeah, right, like noise is the main priority of my life!”
            “Lighten up, Willow!”
            Viola gave her a slap on the back.
            “Yeah, whatever.”
            Willow crossed her arms. Why did she even decide to come here in the first place? To her, it was a major waste of time. Maybe Vi’s right. Maybe I really do need to lighten up. Willow lifted her bowed head, listening carefully to the music. She was becoming accustomed to it. Now the volume didn’t seem too harsh. Willow had heard this band before. Where, she couldn’t put her finger on it. Now she remembered. The band was called “Evanescence.” Very cool. It fit her mood perfectly; a little dark, but not too dark, just right. Amy Lee, at least that’s what she thought her name was, seemed dark, her voice filled with enough mourning to sound great. She listened to the song, comprehending the beat, Amy’s voice, and the very lyrics themselves. She sat down in a stool right by the bar.
            “Hey, babe,” said a voice next to her. There was a man standing right next to her, holding a glass of beer in his hand. He was about thirty or so, and his dirty-blonde hair was ruffled slightly and his breath stank of alcohol. Clearly, he was drunk. Willow wasn’t at all surprised that he chose her to hit on.
            “Yer a pritty one, ain’ ya? Ya wanna kiss, sweets? Cem ‘ere!”
            He leaned in to give her a slobbery kiss, but instead Willow thrust her elbow in his gut. The drunk dropped his glass, which shattered the moment it hit the ground. He fell to the ground on his knees, clutching his stomach and gasping for breath. Nobody around her took notice of the scene. Willow smirked as she ducked out of the bar area.
            “Nice…you completely got that guy right in the gut.”
            A boy of seventeen or so who, had Willow apparently run into, grinned and raised his eyebrows at her.
            “Thanks. Sorry. Can you excuse me?”
            Willow tried to get away, but the guy grabbed her arm and pulled her towards him. Willow suddenly found herself in his arms. She struggled to get out, but he kept her locked in place.
            “What’s the rush? Have a boyfriend?”
            “Can you please let me go? You’re hurting me.”
            He laughed. “How can I possibly ever hurt a thing like you? Come on. I’ll take you to somewhere where we can have some privacy.”
            “I’m warning you.”
            “You’re warning me? How could you possibly hurt me?”
            He laughed once more. Willow’s eyes narrowed in anger.
            “You asked for it,” she growled.

_____

            Viola shook to the beat, dancing with a very groovy sense. Just then a guy, a very cute one at that, came up to her and started to dance. She shook all over, and not just from dancing.
            “I like your style. Wanna dance?”
            Viola was baffled. Usually guys were either polite to her or just distanced themselves from her, or both.
            “Uh…sure. I’d love to.”
            “Come on.”
            The previous song came to an end just as a slow, sensual one started up. He took her in his arms. Viola slid her arms around his neck and his around her tiny waist.
            “My name’s Dave,” he whispered in her ear, his breath tickling it.
            “Mine’s Viola.”
            “Cool name.”
            “Thanks.”
            Dave looked into her hazel eyes just as she gazed into his amber ones.
            “You have…,” she caught her breath, “amazing eyes.”
            “You are, too.”
            “What?”
            “I mean, you’re amazing, too.”
            “Does that line ever work on any of your girlfriends?”
            “What? Does that mean it worked on you?”
            Viola smirked and laughed softly.
            “Maybe,” she replied coyly
            Dave leaned into her and kissed her tenderly at first, but then more passionately. Their embrace became tighter. They practically clung onto each other as they made out. Vi felt like she was melting into him, them both becoming one. But the moment was ruined just as she heard a crash on the ground. The embrace was immediately broken.
            Willow was fighting with a guy. She looked like a master at it, while he, compared to her, looked like a blundering toddler just learning how to walk.
            “Willow! What the heck are you doing?”
            But Willow kept on ignoring her as she landed blow after blow on this guy. She was truly amazing. It was like watching a ballet where everyone except for him was fighting gracefully. Then Viola was grabbed by the waist and pulled to the guy’s chest. He held a knife against her delicate throat. It pressed in so hard that a trickle of blood appeared and dripped down the skin of her neck.
            “Leave me alone and your friend won’t get hurt.”

_____

            Willow launched a sidekick to the side of the guy’s head. He fell to the ground. His head bled from the wound Willow had inflicted. Surprisingly, he was strong and oblivious to pain because he shot right up and didn’t even flinch.
            “Severin’s gonna be happy, you b***h, once I bring him to you. Then you won’t have anywhere to go!”
            His fist targeted her head, but she ducked just in time to dodge it. Amy Lee’s voice pounded out a song which seemed to fit perfectly into this specific moment. Sweat dripped down her face. Adrenaline coursed through her veins, urging her to fight. Willow licked her chapped lips and smirked as the guy lunged a fist at her again. This is too easy. It was very obvious that he didn’t even know what he was doing. She rolled over just as he was about to punch the living daylights out of her. Willow quickly dodged him, pushed him onto the floor, and pinned him.
            “Who is this ‘Severin’? Huh?”
            Willow thrusted him onto the wall, her hand around his throat tightening, crushing his windpipe. The guy began choke and struggle for breath.
            “Huh? Tell me, you b*****d!”
            “Okay, okay, just let me go. Please.”
            Willow threw him down on the floor. He slowly got up, placing his hand behind his back. He clinged to a bystander, who was Viola, and turned her around. From behind his back, he whipped out a knife and pressed it against her throat.
            “Leave me alone and your friend here won’t get hurt.”
            “Let her go! She has nothing to do with this!”
            Willow took an awkward step forward nearer to him. He dug his knife farther into Viola’s throat; she began to scream out in pain.
            “Please, Willow,” she sobbed, her tears mixing with sweat and blood. “Please, just go. I’ll be okay.”
            “Don’t hurt her!”
            “Only if you back off.”
            “Aaaah!” yelled Viola as the knife went deeper into her already wounded neck. Crimson blood dripped from the cut. Vi groaned in pain.
            “Willow, please! Please just go! Now! Please.”
            “No, I’m not going to leave you,” Willow said in a solid, hard tone.
            She kicked his head, which sent the guy flying backward. Viola rushed over to Willow. Willow shielded her as she neared him. He suddenly leapt up, trying to slash her open. She ducked, as did Vi, clutching her slightly cut throat. Willow kicked him once more, and this time it was in the arm. The guy fell to the ground, clutching his bruised arm.
            “Come on. Let’s get out of here,” she rasped, pulling Viola out of the club by her forearm. Viola was breathing hard, perspiration dripping down from her forehead.
            “Oh…my…God…what the hell was that? W-where the heck did you learn how to do that? And who was that man who attacked you?”
            Willow sighed, exhausted from the fight. It had taken everything she had to knock him out. She leaned against a brick wall.

“It was nothing.”
            “No, no, that was not nothing. That was something! You were…amazing! I mean, that was so cool! And you…you just saved my life back there! Shouldn’t you be…Willow? Willow, what’s wrong? Willow?”
            Willow was slumped against the wall, breathing slowly. Her body suddenly gave out from underneath her. She was weak everywhere. All the energy given to her from the adrenaline started to drain her. A voice somewhere told her to relax. The figure of Viola became a blur above her as Willow closed her eyes and blacked out.

_____

            November…what a time. It was so close to Thanksgiving.

I wonder what it must have been like to not have a single worry except for the locals.

Al walked wandered the neighborhood. Every time he passed Willow’s house, images of her smiling and laughing flooded his mind. Also, there were the images of her eyes, which haunted his dreams. It had only been a few weeks since she had begun to attend the local high school, and already she had made such an impression on everyone, especially the boys. And especially him. She was so…beautiful and so mysterious.
            “Great. Now I’m officially a stalker!” he muttered under his breath to himself.

Al walked behind a batch of trees near Willow’s house. He let in a sharp intake of breath when he saw the door open. Unfortunately, it was only Willow’s mom. Funny. Willow didn’t look a thing like her. This woman was petite with neatly trimmed honey-brown hair and welcoming blue eyes, while Willow was tall and had ebony hair and eyes the color of amaranthine.

I wonder if that's even her real mother.

Who knew? She might be more like her dad. In height and, possibly, in personality, also. Al shivered. He didn’t know if it was from the cold or from the icy chill that just tingled down his spine. He didn’t know if he even cared. Al walked on, not even trying to think of the possibility that he could ever date Willow.

_____

            She was breathing, which was definitely a good sign, but Vi still didn’t understand where those killer moves of hers came from.

I mean, I understand that she can pack a punch, but…wow.

It wasn’t like that day in the hall when she had suddenly given Teagan a bloody nose (which she had deserved because of her bitchiness). She was like a martial artist or something. Viola still didn’t understand how such a delicate-looking could pull that off. She was awe-struck as Willow had begun to perform powerful kicks and blows to that damn guy. She was like a cool combo of a swan-like ballerina and a tough, punk girl with all the right moves. In fact, Willow had ended up saving her life, and she owed her for that.
            Viola had to practically drag Willow all the way to her own home, which, thankfully, was empty. Viola’s mom was working late at the bar again, and probably wouldn’t be home until dawn, which gave Willow time to regenerate. Even though her mom was busy with work, that still didn’t mean she didn’t have time to constantly ask           Viola annoying questions. If she had seen Willow she would’ve begun asking her all sorts of nosy questions right on the spot. Viola in turn wouldn’t know how to answer.             Actually, she wasn’t even sure that she had an answer. It had happened all so suddenly that she couldn’t keep track of it.
            Viola heard a sound and turned. Willow was talking, quietly though.
            “No…no…no…,” she muttered in her sleep.
            Viola immersed a washcloth in cool water, wrung out the excess water, and slid the cloth gently over Willow’s sweaty forehead.
            “Willow…Willow…come on, please…Willow, open your eyes, please…”
            Just as she took it away, Willow sat straight up in her bed.

_____

            Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock. Bing…bing…bing…bing.

The clock began to chime the hour. Severin looked at the watch on his wrist as he sat in the silence of his office. It was midnight. Figures that his messenger would be late.
            “God. How are you supposed to do any work around here?”
            A shuffling of feet followed by the slamming of a door called Severin to attention.

It’s about time.
            “Enter,” he barked as someone knocked on the door.
            A man of possibly twenty carrying a suitcase entered the room.
            “You’re late.”
            “I-I am t-truly sorry. I-I was detained an-”
            “I DON’T GIVE A DAMN! Now, show me the information I had requested.”
            “Yes, yes, right away, sir.”
            The man fumbled with the mud-colored suitcase he had been carrying. He opened it and pulled out a vanilla envelope that was bulging.
            “I-I have i-it right her-”
            “Oh, stop your stuttering and just give it to me!”
            The man held out the envelope and he snatched it. Severin glanced over the contents quickly.
            He nodded. “Exceptional.”
            “Uh, sir, payment?”
            “Ah, yes. Here,” Severin said, shoving a bunch of hundred dollar bills at him, “do with it what you please.”
            “T-thank you, sir…Thank you!”
            “Yes, yes. Oh, and wait. How did my little girl do?”
            “She defeated Cliff.”
            “Excellent.”
            Severin studied the materials carefully as his messenger exited the room, as if they were some sort of precious treasures that was worth millions. The glossy black-and-white and color photos of Willow as Arachne and herself were spectacular, as were the sketches of her body structure, which were simply extraordinary. Willow appeared so elegant; even when she was in combat; she appeared as graceful as a deer, yet she was really as strong as an ox. Also included were the diagrams of a spider. And a very deadly spider at that.
            “Lovely,” he purred contently.
            Severin laughed giddily to himself. Soon such a fine creature of elegance and beauty would be in his possession…forever.

Author's Note

Need I say more than the story already does?
Enjoy. :)