I've already started a little on this story. It's very rough right now because I haven't written in a couple of years. But here's the Prologue that I had previously written:
“Isabel! Damn it! Come back with those!” Vanessa shouted down the main hall, stamping her foot. She was already fifteen minutes late. If this kept up, she was going to be seriously late and get in trouble with bother her home room teacher and the vice-principal. Hell no. She was having none of that. Vanessa watched, nonplussed, as her crazy dog just turned around, and gave her one of those silly dogs smiles where they lift their upper lip. Socks, Vanessa’s socks to be precise, were poking out of either side of her mouth. And then she was gone once again, running down the halls and hiding in dark corners.
Isabel was one of those dogs. She loved hiding in dark corners. Her little black self blended in very well, seeing as that she was pure black except for about six white hairs in the middle of her chest. And even those didn’t make finding her any easier. It was almost impossible to spot her in the darkened rooms and hallways of the Blackleif mansion, what with the only light source being oil lamps. And most of the time, she couldn’t be spotted till it was too late, especially when she didn’t want to be spotted. Then you search for hours and never see hide nor hair of the 5 year old pit-bull chow mix. It’s quite obvious if you think about it. Black dog… black corners… impossibly irksome. And the odd part was… She knew it. The damn dog knew how wily she was. And unfortunately for Vanessa, it just so happened that today was one of those days when she just didn’t want to be found
Sighing quite audibly with frustration, Vanessa walked briskly down the hall, her stiletto Mary Jane heels clicking loudly on the obsidian tiles and into the chef worthy kitchen. The sink, refrigerator, cabinets and island counter top were stainless steel. The counter tops everywhere else were green and white marble. The floor, unlike the rest of the house, was a mixture of white and black marble. Imported. Walking through the kitchen, she grabbed a chicken flavored dog treat from the ceramic bowl above the stove and a granola bar for breakfast from the walk-in, store-like pantry. Although, in the opinion of others, a granola bar is not breakfast. Vanessa worked her way back down the grand entrance, munching quietly on her granola bar and scanning the walls and dark corners with her cat-like eyes. Once she got there though, her darling little mischievous puppy was nowhere to be found. She had an idea. She turned on her heel and opened the door to the parlor. Glancing around at the thick, green, shag carpet that resembled moss; the life-like quality of the wood paneling on the walls, the wood furniture, she always got the impression that she was inside a tree. Hell yea. With part one of Mission: Capture Demon Dog accomplished, she lounged on one of the high-backed chairs and began whistling her special tune for Isabel. Little known fact: Isabel has all of Beethoven’s seventh symphony memorized, dumb ass that she is. And said stubborn ass of a dog, does not come unless both her name is called and her tune is whistled, when she’s having one of her days.
“Isie!” Vanessa shouted at the top of her lungs down the hallway from her place on the chair.
“Isie… Isie… Isabel!” Vanessa called in a voice that was starting to quaver with anger badly hidden. Just then the little menace pranced into the room, self-assured as always, by means of her own personal hallway and stair system within the walls. The place was just that big. She looked up at Vanessa, and her expression said it all: ‘What do you want, smart one?’ Vanessa held up the treat for Isabel to see and asked sweetly,
“Do you want a treat? It’s your favorite flavor: chicken. If you want it, you’re going to have to give me back my socks.” A thought suddenly struck her like a blow to the head.
“Please,” she added in a sickly sweet voice, her eyes deceptively innocent looking. Isabel took a tentative step forward, socks dangling out of either side of her mouth.
“Come on, pretty girl. Come get the treat.” Isabel adamantly refused to come any closer, sensing the imposing threat of Vanessa’s sweet voice, tensed body and altered balance.
“You don’t want to come? Ok then, you can lay down for me.” As soon as the commanding request was given, Isabel turned and dashed out the door and around the corner at the end of the hallway, heading toward the basement and her specially made kennel.
--I still need to edit it. A lot. And post some more of the story.
If anyone has any helpful critiques or maybe ideas for some events in the story feel free to comment or even write your own pages.