Not as twisted as normal. Sorry, BarbieLee!

Trailing behind Straus, I followed her – him – whatever – out of the massive commercial and residential building via a bridgeway some five floors above street level.

Continuing southward, we crossed into an adjacent megascraper then descended via five sets of escalators to the ground floor, eventually exiting out onto a sidewalk running parallel to a six -lane street packed with morning commuter traffic.

This early in the Season the weather was still uncertain. It shifted between summer heat and winter cold. Down on the plains, it had been stifling, but it had grown cool as the trail rose into the foothills of the great range. Karl rode with only his white messenger’s cloak about his shoulders. All the better to show off his muscles, to any farm girls that might happen by. Not that he'd seen any farm girls, not since the lovely Lana, down in the Swift Creek village.

Albert Smirnov was hobbling down an alley making his way to the grocery store. Three boys confront him. Two in the front, one big one in the back. This was normal for Albert. The three boys always bullied and abused him for having one leg along with his feminine nature. He knew what was coming next.

“Hey, cripply faggot!” shouts the strawberry blonde boy beside one of his friends.

“Hey, Grant.” Albert sheepishly greets. The boy behind him pushes him down.

This is fan fiction for the Whateley Academy series. It may or may not match the timeline, characters, and continuity, but since it's fan fiction, who cares? To see the canon Whateley Stories, check out Whateley Academy at (http://whateleyacademy.net (link is external) (link is external)

Enjoy.

I was walking home in the dark when suddenly I got hit by a truck. Or at least I like to think I got hit by a truck. The last thing I saw was a bright light in the corner of my vision then darkness.

Well, here I am, in another world. Son of a bitch. I’m even a baby. Now, I have to lay here for about four years to even be able to walk. I hate waiting. Well, it’s not all bad, my mother is a fox. I mean literally, a fox. Well, more of a quarter fox from what I can see. Some type of demi-human with fox ears and a tail.

How much of a woman?

How much of a woman could I make myself into – on the outside? I’m fifty, fat and full of wheeze – as a vulgar version of the song goes. And how can I satisfy girl-inside – who has been hiding since I was a kid. Was I aiming to be an old age mutton-dressed-as-lamb girly, or a strong woman-of-age?

Shadowsblade a Whateley Tale: Written by Shadowsblade

Created for war and forged in pain, dealing with demons within and without.

Tuesday, September 18, 2007 - Late Evening
Whateley House, Whateley Academy

A Second Chance

By Dawn Natelle

Another short chapter, but I just finished writing Chapter 20, which is huge at 7000 words. It will be up tomorrow morning: Dawn.

FRIDAY, May 13, 2016