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@this-is-not-an-alien

I really like that about you! And yeah, it wasn’t melodramatic. 😀 And my favorite color? Hmmm, maybe green?

Yeah, no problem! Yes, google can be very useful 😛

Haha, I’m an expert in those too! I’m also one in walking into too-clean glass sliding doors, forgetting where my other shoe is, and forgetting to do homework until the day it’s due 😛

Yes, you are so right!  God gave us each such unique and different gifts that can compliment each other so well.  (Or, I suppose, grate on each other, but that’s part of life, isn’t it? :P) I love seeing those talents too!

Aw, thanks! That’s really, really kind of you.  I love how you respond to a compliment with another compliment; it makes you such a fun person to interact with.  And I’m glad I could help you feel more comfortable!  I totally know what you mean; when I was new to stuff like this, I always posted the shortest posts and was constantly adding at the end: “Sorry if I did it wrong!” and stuff like that.  I get what you mean, it feels weird to broadcast your writing to a group of people you only know through the internet.  For me, my writing is a very personal thing.

Okey dokey, sorry for taking so long (and sorry that it really IS long), but here it is! Um, sorry that it doesn’t really make sense, I was just trying to figure out a way to portray her fear.. If it makes even less sense, you could read the Part One thing on page 21 (:

As Orson’s laugh echoed through the chamber, Colma whirled around in a circle, searching for the source.  Surely it was an illusion the castle was creating.  There was no way his laughter was actually real.  After all, Colma had seen Orson dying on the hay in his barn… But she couldn’t help wondering if ghosts were authentic as she gazed around, bewildered.

She peered at a figure in the gloom, who was standing just beyond the rim of light.  Colma stepped into the natural spotlight herself and stared at the person.  “Orson…?” she whispered hesitantly.

The person entered the wide circle of sunshine.  Colma’s mouth went dry when the figure did.  It was the last thing Colma had expected to see: herself.  From the long dark hair to the scowl on her face, it was a mirror image of Colma.  For a moment, she hoped it was simply a reflection in a mirror, but when the doppleganger stepped closer while Colma stood rooted to the spot, she knew it wasn’t.

Abruptly, several people fell out of the hole in the cavern’s ceiling.  Colma rushed forwards and discovered that they were the same group from the castle and the dinosaurs and the blood-thirsty library.

Her clone–Colma was going to refer to her as it from now on– drew its axe with a ring of steel and started towards the unconscious jumble of people lying on the floor.  Colma realized with horror that it was going to attack them–the people who had helped her, tried to kill her, and had been basically harrassed by the castle as well, all at the same time.

She fumbled with her own axe strapped to her leg, yanked it off, and rushed forwards to stop the double from killing them.  Colma deflected the duplicate’s vicious swipe that was aimed for her neck and swung her weapon at its side.  The copy dodged it, then kicked out Colma’s legs out from underneath her.  She rolled to the side as her double slammed its axe into the ground where Colma’s head had been.  The blade sent cracks spider webbing across the stone floor, which made Colma goggle at the copy’s strength.

Colma, jumping to her feet, retaliated by lurching forwards to bring her axe down on the clone-person.  The replica met her blow so that they were locked in a battle of strength, Colma’s blade pushing against the clone’s, while its axe was thrusting up against her’s.

Sweat trickled down Colma’s temple as she gritted her teeth.  She could feel herself losing the battle, and her opponent’s axe was ever edging towards her face.  Colma’s arms started to tremble with the effort.

If she died, the others still unconscious would too.  And it would be her fault.

With a cry, Colma flipped the wooden handle of her axe up and smashed the duplicate’s face with it.  The clone stumbled away, blood trickling from her nose.  Colma felt hot liquid streaming down her face as well, which confused her entirely.  She hadn’t been hit.  She had hit it, the clone.  Why was she bleeding?

Brushing the thought off for the time being, she lunged at the replica, who had dashed towards the others and who was raising its weapon above its head to end the other castle victims.  Colma knocked her away and put an end to the fight with a final strike of her axe.  But as she dealt the killing blow, her own vision darkened and her legs turned to jelly.  She toppled to the floor beside the clone.  She was dying, like the replica.  Somehow, the clone was connected to her.  Maybe it was her.

But, Colma thought, I wouldn’t kill them.  They’ve helped me… But why—her thoughts were cut off as her ragged breathing halted, like her heart.  She struggled for breath, before everything stopped.  Blackness. Nothing. But just for a moment.

Suddenly, she was hovering above a snow-blanketed cottage.  Her home.  Light gushed from an open door.  Colma subconsciously lowered so that her feet were inches from the ground and watched with horror as she saw another version of herself being literally thrown out into the snow.  The people from the castle were standing in the doorway, disgust on their faces.  Even Ehud’s expression was one of loathing and hatred.

They shoved the other Colma away and shouted, “Murderer!”  Then they slammed the door, and Colma delved into darkness once more.

They knew.  They knew what she had done, and they, like everybody else, hated her and shoved her away.  She was alone now.  Forever.  Maybe she actually had tried to kill them.  Maybe the clone was really her, and the castle was predicting that Colma would end up hurting or killing the other people from the castle.

But suddenly, she was lying on her back.  Hard stone or something like it was underneath her, and wind whipped her hair into her eyes.  Colma sat up instantly.  Several new people were there with her on a roof, along with most of the people from the castle, but Ahab was missing.

Ehud was saying something about taking shelter.  And a fox was there, looking very much like it was intelligent and capable of a conversation.

Colma’s heart leapt with joy.  She hadn’t tried to kill them, she hadn’t died, and they hadn’t thrown her out!  Before saying anything, Colma jumped to her feet, ripped her axe, which had been acting as a splint, off her leg, then turned it over in her hands, staring at it.  It had been a faithful weapon, but too many had perished at its evil hands.  No one would ever again.  Without a second thought, she reared her arm back and chucked the axe off the roof.  She watched it plummet through the air, then turned resolutely away.

Colma had never felt so freed.  It was like a huge burden, previously crushing her, had been shoved off her back.  She smiled tentatively at all the people, knowing she was acting strange.

But she didn’t care then.  She was alive, they were alive, and they hadn’t tossed her away.  “So..” she began, “you new people are also victims of this cursed castle’s shenanigans?  I don’t suppose you know what or where we are?”  Then, without waiting for an answer, she turned to Ehud, beaming.  “We’re not dead!” she exclaimed merrily, as if this was a new ground-breaking revelation.  “You’re not dead!  And what were you saying?  Something about rain?”  She almost wanted to hug him and sort of moved to.

Hehe, Colma’s happy for the first time in a long time.  And it’s the first time in a long time that she would actually let someone hug her if they tried XD