Yest another chapter from the comic. Still need artist!!!

Neige Rouge

"Run run run as fast as you can but you can't run run from the Childcatcher's hands." - Patric Wolf


Cheshire:


It’s always so dark in this house. Mum told me when she was a little girl, kids used to be afraid of the dark. Now, she says, it’s all we have to keep us safe. I slide up to the window and peek through the wooden slats. Past midnight and the street is brighter than this place. The red light hanging over the door across the road flickers and starts to fade. I think it looks a lot like the way my father’s eyes looked when he was shot. I can only remember his eyes now.

It’s Thursday, it’s my night out. Mum is sleeping so I grab Kimby and wander out of the darkness. Kimby is a stuffed bear my father gave me before he died. He told me it would protect me when he couldn’t, and it has. I wander the streets freely at this time. There is no one around. There was never an official curfew, but the beatings make people stay home. Not many people know who administers these beatings. Conspiracy theorists say it’s The Tribunal’s Spöken that do it. Others think it’s the Caspers, the roaming gangs. But I know who it is. The man who can’t be seen.

I feel someone behind me. He’s not trying to sneak up on me, he won’t die yet. “Hello little girl, what are you doing out so late? Does your mummy know?”
“She does. I forgot my teddy outside.” He’s not one of them. Usually you can smell it on their breath. That disgusting hungry stink coming from the back of their throats.
“Ok, well make sure you run back inside.”
“Thank you.” As he walks away I make to run for the alley. There has to be some of them waiting in there. Nothing! Where is everyone tonight?
“You won’t find anyone.” I know the voice is coming from my left but there’s nothing there. I realise with terror it can only be him. The one who can’t be seen.
“Stay away.”
“I’m not going to hurt you little girl. I’ve seen the work you do and I’m impressed.” It’s a trick. “That is a very handy little bear you’re clutching. I can tell you didn’t win it at the fair.”
“What’s a fair?” I need to leave. He knows too much.
“Tsk. I’m showing my age. It was something fun. They call them distractivs now.” “Yeah…” he’s blocked me in!
“I want you to come with me for tonight.” I can’t smell him, I can’t even see him. Maybe I’ve finally gone mad like all those other children. “But where are my manners.” This ghost white human shape appears in the entrance to the alley. I can’t help but let out a squeak that might have been a scream if I weren’t scared of both him and the Spӧken. All I could see of him are his eyes. They are the most amazing shade of green. I agree. “I will come with you, but promise to return me to this spot.”
“I promise.”
“Cross your heart and hope to die?”
“Always.”
“Ok. Let’s go.” His eyes don’t burn like theirs. I almost feel safe, like I don’t need Kimby.

Neige Rouge: Upcoming comic. Just need an illustrator.

Neige Rouge

"I have to look up just to see hell" - Marilyn Manson

Prologue

I stand naked in the falling snow. The snowflakes fall on my skin and melt. Those that fall above my heart take the longest time to melt. I pretend I’m somewhere else. Somewhere warm. It doesn’t work. The wind makes whips of my hair, lashing at my face. This building is tall. I’m not scared of falling. Someone always catches me. But not this time. There is no one to save me. The city is frozen solid. Nothing moves except the snow in the wind and even that is controlled like the flakes in a snow globe. This is the last shred of free will I have. And I will use it to paint the city.

Frank:

It is the year 2043 and free will is only for the fortunate. I am in this clinic every day…except Sunday. They won’t let you work on Sunday. It’s as though we’re on a reverse merry-go-round, the world is spinning faster than usual but we aren’t going anywhere. Not on a Sunday. On Sunday I look at all there is done and I weep for this world.
“Mr. Carver in to see you Dr. Warren.”
“Thank you Hazel. Please send him in.” I weep so… The man enters my office. He’s been seeing me for years. He never seems to change, only the coldness in his eyes seems to thicken. I’m sure it will blind him soon… and there will be nothing I can do.
“Hello Frank, how’s the game?”
“Afternoon Prime minister, the game treats me well.”
“Now Frank, just because I’ve become Prime minister doesn’t mean I insist on formality. I’ve been coming here since I was fresh out of The State, you know my name.”
“Now so does the rest of the country Marshal. And I suspect a great deal of the world’s powers.”
“And so they should. A man is only as good as the name put to him.”
“Open your eyes…wider…I’m afraid your myopia is getting worse. I’ll have to prescribe a stronger lens. Though at your age Marshal you really ought to start worrying about cataracts.” There is nothing to suggest he is even at risk of cataracts.
“I’m too young for that Frank. Ha!”
“You’re pushing 70, you smoke and drink excessively. I’m only trying to help.”
“Well, when I’ve gone blind I’ll give you a call. When can I pick up the new glasses?”
“In a week.”
“I’m sitting with The Tribunal on Tuesday, see if you can have them for me before then. We’re trying out this new policy with those damned Caspers.” He has the audacity to stick a large note in my top pocket. I am sick of this life.
“I’ll do my best Marshal.”
“Thanks Frank, see you Monday.”
“Monday.” He leaves and I breathe in deeply.
“Next patient Dr. Warren.”
“Thank you Hazel.”