Fox Face [Chapter 3]Fox Face [Chapter 3] by kalsagnia
The pebble skimmed three times before sinking beneath the surface of the pond. It startled a fish which hurriedly swam away into the cover of the weeds and Chase chuckled softly. He never was the best at skimming stones.
“Your turn”, he said, grinning at Victor.
They’d been at the pond for hours now. The sun was climbing higher into the sky and Victor was getting hungry, but skimming stones was a good distraction and he was happy to carry on. Plus it stopped Chase from gushing over his mask.
The fox shaped piece of porcelain was still on the ground, temporarily forgotten as Chase scanned the area for the perfect stones to skim. Chase seemed to think it was wonderful, but Victor felt a chill run down his spine whenever he looked at it.
He picked up a stone and threw it at the pond, smiling half-heartedly when it skimmed six times before sinking. Chase threw up his hands in defeat.
“How do you do that?!” He exclaimed.
Fox Face [Chapter 2]Fox Face [Chapter 2] by kalsagnia
“Chase, wake up! Breakfast’s ready!”
His mother’s voice sounded from downstairs, penetrating the thick, syrupy darkness that had settled on Chase’s brain. He groaned and rolled over, wearily cracking open one eye and staring blearily at the clock.
It was nine o’clock. Far too early to be up on a weekend.
He yawned and rose sluggishly to his feet. As he did so his gaze fell upon the desk and the mask sitting innocently on its surface. Chase froze. Last night…had that been real? No. It couldn’t be. That was all just a dream, right?
Chase shot the mask an uncertain look, then he hurriedly boxed it up and shoved it back in the wardrobe. He’d deal with it later.
Throwing on whatever clothes he could find he walked downstairs and entered the kitchen. He’d just sat down at the dining table when his mother shoved a plate of omelettes in front of him with a smile.
“Here you go!” She said cheerfully, “
Fox Face [Chapter 1]Fox Face [Chapter 1] by kalsagnia
With a startled cry and the squeal of trainers sliding across polished wood, Chase Sunderland found himself once again hitting the floor. The basketball flew out of his hands, sailing through the air until it was neatly caught by the ever smug Brent Reynolds.
“Better luck next time, Shrimp!” He crowed and dribbled the ball away down the court.
Chase growled, his hands clenched into shaking fists, and punched the floor angrily. A pair of legs rushed up and came a stop before him and a hand was extended towards him. Chase didn’t need to look up to know who it was.
“Thanks, Victor”, he muttered, accepting the hand and allowing himself to pulled to his feet.
Victor – tall, athletic, best friend Victor – smiled and patted him on the head, which would have felt demeaning coming from anyone else. Chase was short for his age, he got that. He really didn’t need it being shoved in his face every day.
“Don’t let him get