Fire Inside 1

Author's Note: All characters are age 18 and older. Please be patient with me this is my first submission. The explicit scene is in chapter 4 so if you're here for that it would be wise to go elsewhere. Please rate and comment below! Thank you for your patience and suport!

***Chapter 1 - How it Began***

The air swirled around my head, my eyes closed. I could feel the eyes of the entire crowd focusing on me. I looked down at the front row, my speech teacher smiled and nodded up at me. With a deep breath, I took one last look around the speech hall. I quickly glanced at my notes, though I didn't really have to, I was very familiar with the story.

"I want to thank you all for coming here tonight, first of all, and hope that I will be able to keep you awake for the next five minutes," I said, the crowd responded with a light chuckle,"but it will be difficult with my extremely boring life," again a chuckle.

"As you probably already know my name is Mark Stowe. I lived a rather protected home-school lifestyle previous to coming to Commitment High School. Nothing could have prepared me for the radical changes that would ensue. Nightmares had haunted me from childhood, things changing, getting left behind, being all alone. I wasn't allowed to listen to anything but classical music until my Freshman year. Change was always something frightening to me.

"And then, I turned ten years old. My Father had a major stroke and my life turned upside down. Everything went downhill from there. I missed a lot of school from staying in the hospital. That took up six months, but I was able to double up and get back to where I was supposed to be, then things went more or less smoothly until my Freshman year. That was difficult and my home-school tendencies definitely showed. I wrote the Jedi code on all the white boards. From then my Grandfather died, my parents divorced, it came out that my Dad was a pedophile, my Mom moved in with a new abusive boyfriend in New Jersey, my Brother had a child out of wedlock, I got mixed up in drugs and alcohol; my life was a ruin, everything I had feared came true: everything changed, I got left behind, and I was all alone.

"During my hardest time in New Jersey, between catching my Mom in bed with different men, abusing drugs and alcohol, getting shot at and run out of three different houses, and making new friends and losing them within days, there was little room for hope. I would stare at a picture of my class I had with me, it was the only thing that kept me sane in that insane world. I would wander through the woods early in the morning and sing loudly into its depths. Without my Hope I would most likely not be here, or quite possibly not even be alive now."

When I had finished, tear stroked faces stared back at me. This school was small enough that everyone had heard my story, they all knew what happened afterward. I escaped back to my hometown of Tacoma, and moved into a house with an old teacher in our school. And she wasn't one of those nice old ladies. Strict and oppressive, I had no freedom or outlet through which to release all of my frustration.

I could see her now, scowling in the back row. Knowing I was going to be going home to that woman was enough to send chills up my spine. At first, she seemed friendly enough, but she didn't keep up the illusions for long. Soon I was sleeping in the basement whenever anyone came over, it honestly surprised me how many relatives she had that were still living. I was asked like any child, to help participate in the household chores, but somehow whatever she told me to do, it was like trying to do it with a fifty-pound pack on my back.

"I tell you this story, not so that you will pity me, but that you can learn from me and heed my warnings," I said. Bowing low, everyone began clapping. I stepped off stage and sat down into my seat next to Mrs. Steele, my speech teacher.

"Good job," she whispered into my ear. I was her favorite student, and everyone knew it, but we had always had a special bond. Public speaking was a common passion we shared. She had a bright smile, and was very much like how my mother had once been. I missed that.

The other speeches followed, and I kept moderately interested. My eyes however, kept drifting to where the girls in my class were sitting. There she was, Rachel. With medium brown hair, brown eyes, a slender athletic build, she was a girl to die for. To most of the guys, she was just a nice girl that could stick up for herself. She did not let anyone push her around. To me, she was perfect. Her bright smile would intoxicate me for hours, a moment when our eyes met was like an eternity in heaven. Never backing down from a challenge she was accused of being a tom boy, but never to her face. In short, I was in love.

All of a sudden everyone was standing up and clapping. The last speech had been delivered. Thankfully today was a half day. We all walked out of the auditorium, and I loitered for a bit saying goodbye to my friends. Then Rachel walked up. I stopped breathing, frozen in place staring into her deep beautiful brown eyes.

"You did amazingly on your speech Mark," she said. She nervously brushed her hair behind her ear. A couple of my friends were standing behind her, where I could see them, but she could not, giving me the thumbs up. Everyone at school wanted us to get together, but I was afraid of scaring her off before college.

"Thanks Rachel, I'm glad you enjoyed it. So umm..."

"Yes?"

"What are you doing after school today?"

At this she smiled and swiveled back and forth on her heel, pretending to be thinking about it.

"Oh nothing, why?"

"Well, would you like to go see a movie and get some dinner with me?"

"What you mean like a date?" My blood was pumping so hard, I felt like my eyes were going to pop out of socket at any time now.

"If... If you want to call it that, sure."

A very large grin spread over her face.

"Okay then, what time?"

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My friends said of the walk home that it was like watching a squirrel hopping along the top of a fence. Well if they had scheduled a date with the girl of their dreams I'm sure they would have acted the same way.

I live on 29th and Davenport, in a moderately wealthy house, with Satan in woman form. Okay maybe not that bad, but you try living with her for a while. I waved to my friends as I walked up to my front door. My hand was on the handle, and I kept it there until I was mentally prepared for the war zone I was about to enter, but I was determined to not let it get me down.

Quickly I turned the handle and ran inside, but after the bright spring day outside it was difficult to see. Apparently Mrs. Horth was waiting for me inside the door. In a mess of backpack, teen boy, and old woman a very high pitched scream came from somewhere in it,

"What the hell are you doing Mark, you need to watch where your stupid ass leads you! Get off me!"

"Sorry ma'am," I mumbled as I picked up my stuff and helped her up.

"You better be, besides, you have work to do, since it's a half day I want you to mow the lawn."

"I just mowed it last Saturday..."

"And now it is Friday," she interrupted,"and it is time to be mown again."

"Okay, whatever, I will do it after I change."

I ran up the old mahogany stained stairs and into my bedroom. The walls were littered with posters of anime characters and other random art of elves, dwarfs, fairies ,dragons, and swords that I had drawn. Public speaking was not my only specialty. Fantasy fiction had always been my favorite genre. I had read the Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien several times as it was my favorite book.

"Aren't you changed yet, the grass isn't getting any shorter," yelled the shrill voice from the bottom of the stairs.

"Just a minute." With that I threw my backpack next to my desk by my window and changed into some shorts.

Now, I feel obligated to say, that the lawn did need mowing, and it wasn't that miserable for me. I mean, I had a lot to think about you know? Whether planning the conversation, or wondering if I would get to kiss her. If I should try and put my arm around her, or if that would be going to far. To say I was excited would be an understatement.

***Chapter 2 - The Date***

After mowing, I showered. It was difficult to keep myself from running everywhere, but it was very hard to contain my joy. Little did I know that tonight would bring more excitement, adventure, and fear than I had ever known in my entire life.

I put on some khaki shorts with a flannel design short sleeve button down dress shirt over it. Appraising myself in the mirror in my bathroom, I took note of my relatively fit body. I could bench a good 180 lb. My sandy blonde hair stood out a little over my dark brown eyes. I was a little short only about 5' 8''. With only a little bit of flexing, I went downstairs. Mrs. Horth I found sitting in front of the computer in the study, hunching forward and squinting at the screen, as if it were some mischievous little elementary student that was refusing to obey.

"I'm going out and will be back later tonight." I yelled. With a large grin I closed the door behind me, pleased with myself that I had timed the slam of the door to override her shrill complaints. Off I went down the street. I'm not a creep or a stalker, but I knew exactly how to get to Rachel's house.

On the way I saw Mrs. Nossit watering her garden. Her son Jared was my best friend. She waved as I walked by being a very nice lady with whom I had always gotten along. I noticed her mouthing good luck as I walked by and smiled.

"Jared must have told her." I mused to myself.

I was almost to her house now. Just around the curvy road, I saw it. A white victorian style house with a beautiful rose garden out front, and a white picket fence. About 30 yards away I started to get dizzy when I realized I wasn't breathing. After a few deep breaths I began to close the gap between myself and the front gate. I rested my hand on the latch for a few seconds and thought about her family.

She had two brothers and a sister, all older and moved out or at college. Her parents were very sweet, and it was always a joy to talk with them. Rachel told me they liked me very much. Apparently her extended family were in town at the time, and I could tell by the unfamiliar wood-paneled station wagon sitting in their front driveway.

The front door loomed ahead, with light beaming through the distorted glass all around it. Shapes moved around inside, and I heard many muffled voices.

With one last deep breath, I stepped up to the door and reached out for the doorbell. Something was bothering me though. With a quick look around me everything looked normal, but it was twilight. Until I noticed beside me sitting on the swing chair staring at me with black eyes, was a little girl. Her pale face seemed frozen in a frown, she sat completely still.

I guessed this must be a cousin or a niece of Rachel's so I though I had better make a good impression rather than remain there with my hand and index finger stretched out to the side and my mouth ajar while staring with a nervous and slightly confused look on my face.

"Umm, hello, I am Mark Stowe, I go to high school with Rachel, what's your name?"

She stood up, and I don't know why, but I flinched a little bit. What about this girl was creeping me out so much? A little more than a foot away she steadfastly stared directly into my eyes. I felt a little sick as the blood drained from my face.

"I'll just ring the door bell okay?" She didn't falter for a second.

I pressed the doorbell and heard a little tune play inside the house. For a moment everything went quiet until I heard some shuffling up to the door. Slowly it creaked open.

"Oh hi Mark, come in come in! Charissa what are you doing out here?" said Mrs. Greene, Rachel's mom.

"Hi Mrs. Greene," the relief of talking with someone familiar brought the life back to my face and my smile returned.

The girl walked inside without a sound and went upstairs where she brushed past Rachel. I beamed up and saw that she reciprocated it.

"I'll be down in a second okay?"

"Sounds good."

Already I had forgotten all about Charissa, and was wondering what she was going to wear until I was interrupted by Mrs. Greene,

"Please don't mind my family." Something was wrong, and I was beginning to be a little concerned.

I peered into the adjacent living room where there sat what I hoped was the rest of the extended family. A large bearlike man, leaning forward with his hands folded, sat in the main armchair next to the fireplace. Very slowly he looked up at me, a tattoo covered half his face. It was a black dragon that had its mouth open over the man's eye. Which was icy cold blue. Across from him sitting on the couch was Mr. Greene with his legs crossed.

A woman stood by the window, dressed in a black leather overcoat. She was tall with long slick black hair coming down to her waist. She turned around and had a tattoo also covering half of her face. This was a red tattoo of a phoenix that had its beak open over her bright green eye.

I waved and backed out of view. Besides, they seemed very deep in some conversation.

Rachel came running down the stairs in a gray sweatshirt and dark blue jeans.

"Okay I'm ready."

"Alright, let's go."

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I never felt so happy and light on my feet. Since neither of us had our licenses yet, we walked into the center of town. We talked the whole way there, joking, laughing, and poking each other.

She looked so beautiful, there were times when I would get lost and zone out in her dazzling eyes. Standing in the city center we looked around and found a cute little italian restaurant to eat at.

After a nice plate of spaghetti and probably the best garlic bread I have ever had, we sauntered over to the theatre, and watched some weird chick movie about vampires and love. I couldn't really focus on it anyway, but interesting how I laughed whenever she did, and enjoyed the movie just as much.

Holding my arm, we slowly made our way back.

"Hey Rachel?"

"Yeah?"

"What's up with your family, they seem a little bit creepy."

"I'm not sure if I can talk about that."

"Come on," I urged her, "I'm just a little worried about you."

"Well..."

"Rachel, there you are." We both jumped. It was the bearlike man, who had spoken, his deep voice almost didn't seem natural. "We were wondering where you had gone to for so long."

He grabbed her by the arm and started pulling her toward the house. Turning around she formed the word "goodbye" with her lips.

"Sir," I said beginning to protest. It was obvious she was in pain, and my protective instinct was taking over.

Quite suddenly he stopped and peered at me with the tattoo side of his face. The black lines of the dragon seemed to suck in all the light around me, and the only eye I could see began to glow brighter blue. I lost focus, then everything went black.

***Chapter 3 - Shadows and Hopes***

I came back to, trying to remember what had happened. I remembered taking Rachel back home after our date. Then there was the man, with the dragon tattoo. "Am I on the pavement," I thought. Finally I opened my eyes to observe my surroundings.

I was wearing the same clothes, but I was lying under some brush. Pine needles were prickling into my back. My head was throbbing and felt stuffy as if I had been asleep all day. Somewhere just beyond my vision, I heard rushing water. Well, one thing is for sure, I wasn't in Tacoma anymore.

Pushing my muscles to their limit, I lifted myself out of the brush I had been lying underneath. I thought perhaps some water would help me refresh and better assess the situation. The noise led me to a creek. I bent over to splash some water onto my face, but what I saw scared me half to death. Glowing white lines covered one side of my face. I now too had a tattoo, it was of a lion, with it's jaws open around my left eye which was no longer brown, but a bright gold. When I lifted my arm to touch it, I saw lines on my arm as well.

Yes, I was scared, but at the same time I was quite intrigued. I took off my shirt and saw that after the torso, about on my neck, the lions body turned into a vine and snaked its way down my arm to my wrist.

"Well, this is a little weird." I thought.

Whistling awoke me from my reverie. It was an upbeat tune. Kind of reminding me of Bob Marley. Candidly the music drifted across the river to me from its origin.

"This," I thought, "perhaps could be someone who can explain what's happened to me."

Great care was given in the crossing, because in many spots the water became rather deep, and some rather rocky and sharp rocks lay hidden in the murky water. The concentration required was enough to clear my mind from the fog I had been feeling earlier. By the time I had reached the other side I felt completely refreshed. The whistling was becoming fainter, so I knew I needed to pick up my speed.

Breaking into a trot, I suddenly came upon a dirt and gravel road. Down each side I could see for miles, or at least until the road curved enough. To my left I noted the source of the whistling, a mounted rider.

I began to sprint, and sooner than I had expected I came up on him. He was wearing a scarlet hood and had a large beard that flowed in the wind behind him. From my point of view, it appeared that his mount had horns.

"That couldn't be right." I thought.

"Sir, sir!" I yelled. Before I had time to react, there was an axe right in front of my face, just an inch from my nose. My eyes followed the shaft of the axe all the way up to his countenance. Underneath the hood was somehow an old and yet a young man. His hair was a deep red, with squinty black eyes under his bushy eye brows. A crooked nose looked nearly straight at me.

A very thick brogue poured from his mouth rather quickly, "Whorye!" I had no idea what to say, so I just stared. Awkward silence ensued but different from the little girl in that there was an axe between us instead of still air.

"Well, whorye?" He jabbed the axe into my stomach with a little more force than I had at first expected. The wind was knocked from my lungs and I doubled over.

Finally I got enough to understand he was speaking English and guessed he was asking who I was.

"Mark S...St...Stowe." I said in between rapid deep breaths.

"Well, Mark Stowe, wha business do ye have wi me tha ye interrup mi journey?" His face lightened up a bit, but his axe still occupied the space between us. I could tell he was examining my tattoo, and probably wondering why I was shirtless.

"I just wanted to ask you a question."

"Very well, but first ye must answer mine," he said, his left eyebrow raised suspiciously, "How came ye to bear that mark on yer visage?"

Tentatively I raised my hand to my face, "I am not sure, I fell asleep without it, and woke up with it."

"I am Gargh, dwarf wanderer from the eastern mountains. How ma' I be o' service to ye?" he said with a broad grin across his face. Dirty yellow teeth shined from between his full lips. A smile spread across my face, but only because he put his axe away.

"Well, first, I guess, where am I?

"You are in Dul'Hafor, land of healing and refreshment. Not far west o' here is Undan'Hafor, city of healing and refreshment. 'Tis run by the Querthi, and is their last known dwelling. Ha' ye any other questions tha' might need mi' answering?"

Well, I knew something was weird, but this was straight out of a fairy tale. At this point, I had no idea what to do next. I was stuck in the middle of some strange world with dwarves and Querthi, whatever they are, the love of my life is being oppressed by some evil man, and I am unable to do anything about it.

Suddenly I had a thought. "Do you know of a man with a black tattoo much like mine, except of a dragon?"