Disclaimer: I dont own F.E.A.R.
Authors Note: So first thing Im uploading this from a smart phone. The apostrophes dont work right. So if there any apostrophes missing then I apologize. Alright so this is the first fanfic Ive done on this website. So if I get anything wrong Im counting on you guys to review and tell me. So this story is about Almas child from the good ending of F.E.A.R. 3. I named her Lucy. That name was inspired by an anime called Elfen Lied where the main character really reminds me of Alma. THIS IS NOT A MARY-SUE. Believe it or not, a super soldier mixed with a super psychic makes one hell of a kid. Okay so really review and give me some tips. And if you guys have any F.E.A.R. OCs you would like me to throw in there, I would be happy to do so. Just leave their name and a VERY DETAILED description in your review. Im also a guy, so since this character is female I wouldnt mind a few tips on how to write a girls POV. Im afraid this chapter may be a bit boring until the end. But thats just because Im trying to simulate the life of a normal teenage girl. I promise the second chapter will be more exciting. The song is Down with the Sicknesses by Disturbed. Enough rambling and on with the story.
Drowning deep in my sea of loathing
Broken, your servant I kneel
It seems what was left of my human side
Is slowly changing in me
Looking at my own reflection
When suddenly it changes
Violently it changes
Oh no, there is no turning back now
Youve woken up the demon in me
The birds were chirping sweetly in the warm spring air. I relished the feel of the early morning sun on my face as I gleefully skipped down the short street to my high school. I was always in high spirits when summer break drew near, especially after a difficult year. However, after the strenuous trials of my first year in high school, I had feeling summer would be all the more gratifying. I redoubled my already enthusiastic gait, eager to be finished with my final day as a freshman.
Although, aside from it being my last day of school, I supposed that I really did have alot to be happy about. People always seemed to mention how jealous they were of me. Some people: parents, friends, and teachers liked to believe that I was the perfect child. I was very athletic. I was stronger and faster than all of the other girls and most of the boys. Disregarding athletics, I was also highly intelligent. I aced my classes and never dropped below a C+. Then, on top of all that, I was quite a pretty girl. My long black hair fell slightly past my shoulders, my marginally pale skin seemed to glow when the sun touched it just right, and my admittedly curvaceous body attracted... too much attention. I dont want to sound ungrateful, but I hated the stereotypes that come with a body like mine. Slut, loose, stupid, or barbie. It doesnt bother me too much though. No matter how they choose to label me I always prove them wrong.
If there is a sad aspect of my life, its the fact that Im adopted. Make no mistake, I love my foster parents with all my heart. I wouldnt rather have anyone else. Theyd raised me since infancy. They told me that I was named after their first daughter who unfortunately perished in the crisis that shook Fairport City nearly sixteen years ago. The statement released to the public was that a company called Armacham was testing an experimental chemical weapon and that terrorists named Jim Sun-Kwan, Michael Becket, and one unknown terrorist referred to only as "The Point Man" stole the weapon from Armachams headquarters. Then they bombed the building, hoping that it would stall Armachams pursuit.
But it didnt.
Under pressure and with soldiers closing in, they activated the weapon and fled. This set off a devastating chain of events that began with the enormous explosion of Armachams facility, and ended with monsters that were apparently the result weapons effects on people, running wild about the city, killing anyone unlucky enough to wander into their line of sight. Then survivors started going mad from the waves of radiation emanating from the weapon and began worshipping a deity that they called Alma. Then the food ran out and they started eating each other. The government quarantined the entire area while the remains of Armachams security force attempted to find the weapon and stop the terrorists. Armacham did finally manage to deactivate the weapon, but the damage had already been done. Hundreds of people were dead and the majority of the remaining survivors were hopelessly insane. Then, to add to that, the terrorists who caused all of it were never caught. The only one that came close to being captured was Beckett, but he was later found murdered outside of an airport full of slaughtered Armacham soldiers. The other three have been on the "Most wanted list" ever since. My real parents were probably killed in the chaotic events that followed the activation of the weapon, but I had to say, whoever they were, they had great genes.
But enough of these negative thoughts, this was a happy day.
"Hey Lucy"! As I approached the imposing bulk of Fairport High School, I heard the familiar voice of my best friend Sarah ring out from behind me. We had known each other for most of our lives. When we met, she was three and I was four. We were the type of friends that grow up together, and stay close for the rest of our lives.
A real "BFF" you might say.
I turned to face her as she jubilantly trotted towards me.
"Youre early today. I usually beat you to school," she announced when she caught up.
"Yeah, I want to get today over with as soon as possible," I replied.
"You and me both," she said a bit more sincerely.
"Whats wrong," I asked as I picked up the change in her attitude from joviality to seriousness.
"Oh nothing probably. Im just worried about that research project we turned in to Mrs. Williford yesterday".
"Oh yeah... that," I said sourly, recalling the eight-page paper that we had to write for that stupid teacher. She was the only exception to my "Never dropped below a C+" record. It wasnt even because I did poorly in that subject, I mean its fucking English. Its just that Mrs. Williford is so damn biased. Since most of the assignments in her class were essays, she could pretty much just give you whatever grade she wanted to.
So if she disliked you, as in my case, then you were just shit out of luck.
I sighed heavily, Mrs. Williford was the hardest part of the entire year and this project would determine whether I passed or failed English.
Sarah sighed too, apparently thinking the same thing that I was.
"Yeah," she said slowly.
Mrs. Williford didnt like Sarah much either. I didnt know why though, she had never done anything wrong in that class. Maybe it was just because she was my friend...
"Sooo... how was your date with Josh," I asked, wanting to break the awkward silence.
Sarahs dejected aura evaporated as quickly as it had appeared. She then set about rattling off every single, tiny detail of the date with the "Man of her dreams" Josh Tucker while we entered the school building. We were greeted by the bright lights and deafening roar of hundreds of chattering teenagers talking about their respective plans for summer vacation that I had come to associate with Fairport High. We continued down the crowded hallways to our lockers, which were only a few spaces apart from each other.
Sarah was now telling me about how Josh had leaned over and kissed her when they were at the movies, and how it was the single, greatest moment of her entire life.
I rolled my eyes,smiling inwardly. Sarah could be so dramatic sometimes.
Her tirade was interuppted as the sound of the first period bell resonated from the speakers.
"Oh, well theres the bell. I guess Ill see you in third period then," she said when it stopped.
"Ill be there," I said blandly.
She walked off to her first class of the day, and I turned around and proceeded to my own.
My first four periods went by without incident. Sarah and I did chat a bit during third period before we were silenced by Mr. Dunning, our geography teacher. He was still trying to educate us on the importance of the Arabian Peninsula even on the last day of school.
However, fifth period was what I was really waiting for. That was Mrs. Willifords class. It was my least favorite period, but I did want to find out what grade I made on my research paper. I slowly approached the door, took a deep breath, and entered. Sarah was already seated at her desk, so I walked over and slipped into mine, which was right next to hers.
"You nervous," she asked when I sat down.
"A little," I replied.
That was a lie, I was VERY nervous.
Mrs. Williford was calling students up to her desk individually to inform them of the score they received on their paper.
"Timothy Welling," she called Tims name, and he walked to her desk and took a piece of paper from Mrs. Williford. He looked at it and sat back down.
"Hey Tim," Sarah whispered. "What did you get on your-".
"No talking in class Ms. Garder," came Mrs. Willifords condescending voice from her desk. "Not unless you wish to spend your first day next school year in detention".
"Bitch," Sarah muttered under her breath.
"What was that dear"?
"Nothing maam," Sarah lied.
Three more students went to Mrs. Willifords desk before Sarah was called.
"Sarah Garder," Mrs. Williford announced Sarahs name, and she stood and made her way to the front of the classroom. Mrs. Williford handed her the small slip of paper with her grade printed on it. She opened the paper and read it while seating herself once again. I opened my mouth to ask her what score she had made, but I remembered her mistake earlier and shut it. Instead I looked over at the paper that was now lying on her desk.
After a few more of my classmates received their grades, my name was called.
My legs felt like lead as I stood and slowly walked to Mrs. Willifords desk. She regarded me me with a scrutinizing gaze as I reached forward to take the small paper from her hand. I returned to my desk. I sat down, closed my eyes, unfolded the paper, opened them, and looked. My heart dropped into my stomach.
It was a fifty-two.I wanted to cry.
But my despair soon turned into anger. I raised my eyes to look that stupid bitch in the face. I swear to God that i saw her smirk at me. I had never been more outraged in my entire life. I was going to be forced to spend my vacation in summer school just because that petty teacher didnt like me. I saw Sarah look over at my paper in my peripheral vision. She gave me a sympathetic look that quickly turned into a worried one when she saw the raw hatred flowing from my eyes towards Mrs. Williford. I saw her give another student his paper, and when he walked away she picked up the bottle of asprin on her desk. I watched as she swallowed four of them.
Perhaps she suffered from a migraine. Whatever it was, I hoped it hurt like hell. I smiled with grim satisfaction when I saw her face contort in pain just as I finished the thought.
I closed my eyes in frustration, not believing the pure animosity that I felt towards this woman. I hated her so much. I wished she would just drop-
Something wet landed on my cheek. I opened my eyes to the gruesome sight of Mrs. Williford slumped in her chair.
The entire top of her head of her head was gone.
No, not gone I amended. Just all over the walls.
I touched the wet spot on my cheek. I drew my finger back to inspect whatever terrible thing was on the end of it. To my horror, I discovered it was a small piecec of Mrs. Willifords skull.
Someone started to scream...
Authors Note: Sorry this chapter was do boring but I wanted her to be an ordinary teenager until her powers manifested. I really going to pick up the F.E.A.R. element in the second chapter. If you liked it then review. Once again if youve got any F.E.A.R. OCs you want to see in this story then leave their name and a VERY DETAILED description in your review. Also tips on how to write a girls POV would be appreciated. Please review is my point. Seriously.
Conflicting modification on June 28, 2011: