Status: In Progress

Genre: Fantasy



Status: In Progress

Genre: Fantasy



My name is Elle (well simply L), and I am a Spark.
I feel I should start my story with some history on Sparks. It was believed at the beginning of time that the world along with humanity was created by a single Spark. The process of evolution was altered, for if it was only the work of a single Spark, they would be God himself. Over the course of 2,000 years the Sparks lived, manifesting themselves with humans. They passed the gene from one to the next without the knowledge that it was there, generation to generation. Until one day, it died.
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My name is Elle (well simply L), and I am a Spark.
I feel I should start my story with some history on Sparks. It was believed at the beginning of time that the world along with humanity was created by a single Spark. The process of evolution was altered, for if it was only the work of a single Spark, they would be God himself. Over the course of 2,000 years the Sparks lived, manifesting themselves with humans. They passed the gene from one to the next without the knowledge that it was there, generation to generation. Until one day, it died.

Chapter1 (v.1) - Prison

Author Chapter Note

Understand that Elle has issues with speaking her sentences will not make much sense in the beginning.

-Raw First Draft-

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: January 27, 2017

Reads: 47

Comments: 2

A A A | A A A

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: January 27, 2017



It was a Monday, a super rainy Monday to be exact.  We had spent quite some time huddled in the basement of an old farm house in preparation for the worst.  Sirens were blaring, radios were beeping, and people outside were screaming.  There we sat, the three of us, in the corner of the smelly old basement waiting out the storm.  Nancy kept checking her phone for updates and Ted kept fidgeting with the cuffs of his stained jeans. 

They were an older couple, never having children of their own.  I came along at a time in their lives where the chance had passed.  Nancy had come to see me in a weakened state about a year earlier ready to put me in my place for messing around with her husband.  When she saw me on the other hand, she knew that I was just a lost girl with a troubled past.  She and Ted had since become my parents of sorts.  They taught me how to talk, and they taught me how to live.  I pretty much owed my entire existence to them.

In the beginning my memories were fuzzy.  I had no clue who I was or where I came from.  My DNA was compared to many reports and I had no name.  My finger prints were a bust as well so Ted named me.  I was nobody, at least not to the public.  I was somebody to Ted and Nancy Darling.  The first dreams of my existence were intense.  I would wake up confused, disoriented, and unsure of what I had seen or done in my past life.  Then I started to remember the stories, the stories of the Spark.  I knew these stories well yet I could not think of anything that had happened prior to me appearing in the ditch.

“Elle, get over here before you catch your death.”  Nancy had said to me as I wandered towards the wooden doors leading to the outside.  They were bending and bowing, creaking and whistling.  This act of God amazed me.

I had turned to look at Nancy and do as she complied when the doors above me burst open.  A man with the reddest eyes I had ever seen jumped into the hole with us a disgusting grin on his face.  Nancy had backed into the corner further and Ted and jumped to his feet reaching for his shot gun ready to take down the invader.  I backed away slowly towards the other end of the basement my eyes wide.  I had never known terror such as this before.  The way he looked at me, wondered at me, made me feel like I wasn’t emotionally in control of my emotions.  Words were not something that I did excelled at, they were still mumbled and jumbled and I would choose the wrong sentence to explain my feelings.  The man just watched me, followed me.  He looked curious.  I had known I was different; the Darlings thinking the stories of Sparks were distant fabled fairy tales that I remembered from growing up.

“Who are you?”  I heard Ted say. 

The man’s eyes shot towards him and all I felt was cold fear.  He looked at Ted and he looked at the gun, laughing.

“What is she?”  The man demanded his focus now intent on my surrogate family.  His aura was wavy, unknown, his emotional level was spiked and not in a good way.

“That does not concern you.  I asked you a question.”  Ted wasn’t afraid of anything. 

The next few moments were the bloodiest of my life.  The stranger, with no hesitation, took out not only Ted but Nancy in a matter of a few steps.  Dumbfounded I stood there staring at the carnage.  My stomach lurched, I gagged, and finally I fainted.

When I awoke I was no longer in that basement.  Instead I was sitting in the passenger seat of a new truck my face resting on the window.  I lifted my head and looked at the driver.  The red eyed abductor looked back and me and smiled.  A cold chill ran up my spine.

“Sorry about earlier.”  He stated turning his attention back to the road.

I said nothing.  I just turned my attention towards the grass outside my window.  I had never felt sadness or mourning before, I didn’t know why I felt bad.  So I sat there in the passenger seat with nothing to say.I had a feeling that there was nothing that he could say that would make this situation feel any different.

“I normally don’t attack unless threatened.”  He laughed for a second then let the chuckles trail off into a sigh.

Again I said nothing.

“You sure don’t talk a lot.  You know a conversation would make the time fly.”  He had reached over and had the nerve to touch me.

I recoiled but still I said nothing.

“You got some pretty rich people looking for you.  Put your face all over the TV a few months past.  Said you had gone missing, that you needed to be found.”  The murderer looked at me as if I was supposed to praise him for coming to my rescue.  That I was supposed to forget that he had just killed the only two people that I had ever cared about.


“Your scent is different.  You don’t smell human.”  He stumbled over his words.

I knew I was glaring at him.  Now through the mourning I was experiencing hate, disgust, vengeance.  He could see every bit of my emotional confusion on my face as the cocktail burst from my skin in a flash of fire.  He screamed and patted the embers from his jeans looking at me with wide red eyes.

“So that answers that.”  He said putting both hands back on the wheel.

I turned my head towards the window again.  That was the last sentence spoke to me before we reached our destination.


We reached a plantation home late that evening.  The moon wasn’t even present in the sky and yet I could see the house as it was.  I shivered as I crawled out of the passenger seat and looked at the dying grass.  I had been here before; that much I knew but nothing else was familiar other than the feeling I was getting standing there.  The red eyed murderer grabbed me roughly by the arm and started to drag me towards the front of the house.  He flung me ahead of him so that he was pinning me to the door as he knocked loudly against the ancient wood.  I wasn’t sure what he was trying to prove.  It’s not like I could do much in his presence other than spit a few little embers.  It’s not like I had the ability to take his life as easily as he had taken the Darling’s.

The door flung open and standing in front of me was another man equal in height but half the stature.  His crystal eyes tore into the one of my abductor like daggers.  That was when he noticed me standing pinned between them.

“What do we have here?”  The man spoke to my captor with a sneer on his face.

“Sire, I found her in the farmlands.  She doesn’t speak but her scent is something I have never smelled before.”  The murderous ass that held me in place said.-

“She is truly unique then.”  The other man answered looking at me.  He forcibly grabbed my face and turned it left to right.

“How much for her?” 

I jerked my head away from the man and turned my gaze to the other.  His face was wicked as he glared down at me with his huge red eyes.

“Depends on what she is.”  Was the answer.

“She’s not big on conversation.”  My captor growled giving me a jolt.

“Take her inside.  There is a room in the back that you can put her in.  Lock the door when you leave.”  The other man turned on his heel and entered the large manor.

His walk was dignified, if that is the right term to use.  He had an heir of honor and leadership to him that I had not felt before.  He was well dressed compared to the man that brought me here.  I had seen nothing like him in the farmlands where everyone dressed in comfortable clothing similar to my shirt and jeans.  He wore a suite and tie of the finest fabrics and his home was immaculate.  Vases and flowers at each turn, fine rugs and upscale furniture.  One might think that this home was a palace, instead I felt as if it was about to be my prison.

I was led down a long hallway to a door where I was forced inside.  The door was then securely locked from the outside. Yes, prison indeed is what this was.  The room was just as beautiful as the rest of the house.  There was a large bed against the far wall with rose printed blankets, a nightstand with a painted glass lamp, a book case void of any books, and a dresser with a mirror.  No windows, not other escape besides the locked door.  I was “stuck between a rock and a hard place”.  Something that I had heard Mrs. Darling call a tough spot in the past.

I took a seat on the side of the bed and looked at my hands.  Confusion was the next emotion I felt as I pondered how the man had moved to slaughter my family so quickly.  I knew the images in my head, I knew that I was different, but I had never once felt that I was able to move with such grace and speed.  I wasn’t sure if I was even capable of murder.  The Darlings had shown me so much kindness and comfort.  The farmlands had accepted me for what I was (unknown or otherwise) now it was gone.  Ripped from me at the movement of some unbelievable creature.

With nothing to do I laid down on the bed, making sure to remove my shoes as to not get the comforter dirty.  Closing my eyes I welcomed the stories of past millennia to consume me.  Instead I only found a darkness that made me wonder if all I had experienced was nothing more than a nightmare.  A dream meant to scare me, to make me question.  Mrs. Darling had said it often as she would run into my room at night when I woke up screaming speaking to her in a language that neither of us knew.  She would hold me, rub my hair, and tell me that it will all turn out alright.  I grieved for her loss and in my sleep I cried blood tears.  So much for not ruining the pretty bed sheets.

The room was dark when I awoke.  Someone had been in the room with me while I slept.  Panic, another new emotion, enveloped me as I frantically searched for the light switch.  My clothes were different!  I pulled on the night clothes that I had been changed into and searched frantic for the clothes I had worn here.  They were the only thing that connected me to the Darlings.  They were a comfort in a time where I felt loss and remorse.  

“I had them taken to be washed.  Even quite possibly burn them.  I haven’t decided yet.” The man from earlier stood up from a chair in the corner of the room.  This had not been there earlier. 

I stared at him wide eyed but I did not speak.

“Monroe was right.” He smiled at me.  “You are not one to speak.  Are you?”

“That his name?”  I stumbled over the words as I tried so hard to create a sentence.

He nodded his head giving me the impression he understood.

“I see why you remain silent.”  The man teased me.

My face grew hot; another bought of anger consumed me.  Why was he so hell bent on making fun of me?  I latched my lips together determined not to speak to him again.

“How about we play a game?  You tell me what you are and I will decide if you get to go home.”  He clasped his hands together and looked at me.

I remained silent which seemed to infuriate him.

 “Ok.  Maybe tomorrow then.”  He said politely.

I stared at him wishing I could find a way to hurt him the way he hurt my family.  I felt the ice under my skin before I even saw it flash from my hands.  He dodged to the left to avoid to onslaught and looked at me bewildered at my attempt to cause him harm.

“You are a tricky one.”  He smiled making his way from the door.  “First you try to scorch my servant and now you try to freeze me.  You are far more than what any of us could expect.”

He exited my room making sure to secure the lock.

Alone again I collapsed on the bed exhausted.


Morning came sooner than I wanted it to.  At least I assumed it was morning as a young woman entered with a tray of food and drink.  She looked at me with pity as she laid the tray down on the dresser.

“You need to eat child.”  She said to me as she began to back out of the room, her eyes on me the whole time.

I watched her confused and amazed.  Once she left I ran for the tray eating the biscuits first followed by the eggs and bacon.  I slurped down the orange juice greedily making sure to not let a single drop fall.  The food was good, or I think it was.  I ate it so fast I’m not even sure if I really tasted it.  When the knob started to jiggle I ran for the bed and hid under the blankets.  It was the woman again with fresh clothes.  She placed them on the bed and grabbed the empty tray from the dresser.

“What is your name child?”  She asked as she stood at the end of the bed her arms full.

“Elle” I stammered my heart racing.

The feeling that I got from her wasn’t the same one that I had with the two men from the night before, Monroe and the unknown one.  She gave me a little smile and turned to leave.

“What yours?”  I stammered. 

“Vesta.”  She answered as she shut and locked the door again.

My new found friend brought me lunch and dinner in the same manner that she had breakfast.  Each time I hungrily devoured the food and drank each drink leaving nothing to salvage.  She would come into my room bearing gifts and kind words.  By the end of the day I had found a comfort with her.  She was kind.  The final time she came was to bring me clean bedclothes that she laid at the foot of the bed.

“Time to get some sleep.  The Master has big plans for you tomorrow.”  She looked woeful.  I wondered if this was something I did not want.

“Master name?”  I asked knowing full well that my sentence was not complete.

“Oh, nobody speaks the Master’s name.”  Her face contorted awkwardly and I stared at her confused.

“Oh.” I repeated her first word saddened by the lack of information that she provided.

“Get some rest Elle.”  She instructed leaving the room.

I did as Vesta had asked me.  I didn’t understand why I was so willing to assist.  I placed the clothing neatly in a stack by the door and laid down on the bed.  My blood tear stains were visible as I tried to close my eyes once more. 


Sparks are amazing creatures.  Not quite human, not quiet anything else.  We have powers that are beyond that of practical magic.  We can pull from the elements at our disposal in attempts to survive.  New knowledge brought on by the powers that I had pulled at times I was threatened.  It was my own defense system kicking in.  First the fire to kill the red eyed murder, then ice to freeze the blue eyed Master.  My dreams were intense and my nightmares even more.

I saw faces but did not recognize them.  I felt fear but could not comprehend the reasoning.  Blood was everywhere in these visions of the past.  Families of discovered Sparks were slaughtered in hopes of ending the blood lines from passing on.  Enemies sterilized the female children and sent the males to camps where they were experimented on, and in most cases killed.  The world was dangerous for a Spark, and here I was captive in a room awaiting my final judgment.

Dread, fear, anger, confusion, questioning.  I wondered if my whole world was coming to an end.  I wasn’t even sure who I was, or where I came from. My dreams only shared so much, and nothing was recent it was all past flashes.  The garden, the desert, the water, the sky.  All items found within my visions, but nothing to answer the growing questions in my thoughts.  Now I just might die before I even get the chance to find out.

© Copyright 2017 heather glidewell. All rights reserved.


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