What Lies Ahead.

A story I started out of pure boredom, blossomed into somethng more!

After a tragic death of a loved one - Ally is left broken. But there is something out their that can make her whole again. But who or what can do this?

Better do it quick because Ally's life is in great danger, and all at the hands of her father; who hides a secret that is just waiting to be discovered by the people it concerns most. What is this secret? And what does this mean for Ally and her true love - Hunter?


1. Prologue - My Personal Hell

“Mum, come on please.” I begged

“No, you are not going to that party! There will be alcohol and boys! No way.” she shrieked

“Nothing would happen and I wouldn’t drink, please?” I pleaded. “NOOO! That’s the last time we mention this Ally.” She shrieked.

“Fine!” I screamed back. I sat and watched out the car window, I couldn’t see a thing. It was midnight and unusually dark tonight. The trees shrouded the entire road in unwelcome darkness; this place always gave me a spine-chilling sensation, and set my hairs on end. Just something about this place had a sort of eerie mystery to it. It didn’t help that the trees oozed misty darkness – congesting the hanging air entirely.

“I’m sorry.” She said calmly.

I ignored her. She swiftly turned around in an attempt to grab my attention. Next thing i knew the vintage car hit something with a great thud. Something vigorously jumped right in the centre of the dark and secluded off road. The car swerved into the tall looming trees, the screech of tyres, and the burning of rubber assaulted my senses. I was completely disorientated. The car smashed into one of the closer trees and the last thing I saw was a huge tree bombarding down onto the top of mum’s old car. It was old but she absolutely loved it with all her heart.

I awoken lying on the side of the desolate road; my mum lay next to me. I shouted to her. She didn’t answer. I gathered all the strength from every fibre of my aching body and dragged myself towards her. An awful shooting pain shot up my leg. I screamed in utter agony but continued toward her still, lifeless body hoping that she was just unconscious and not, dare i think... DEAD.

I remember reaching her body and ferociously grabbing her hand, shaking her fiercely with all my strength. In that agonising moment that I realised that my mother was gone my heart broke into a million pieces. I broke down in tears and sobbed hideously into her unmoving chest. The only thing that dragged me out of this lapse of complete and utter heartbreak was the prickling feeling down my spine and a hair-raising sensation that I wasn’t alone. I was being watched. 

I suddenly grew terrified; I was at the mercy of whatever was out there in the dark, deserted woods. I thought to myself, what does my life matter without my mother in it? This helped me to overcome this fear of the unknown and slowly I pulled my broken body from the damp ground, and then began walking – more like tumbling into the woods careful not to lean on my troubled leg. I glanced into the pitch black trees and looked, really looked. There stood a creature so unbelievable and terrifying at the time. It was a huge wolf, double the size of a normal wolf, with sharp pointy claws that grew from it masculine paws and a row of treacherously jagged teeth capable of who knows what acts of violence. But the thing that really caught my attention was the fact that its eyes looked like they were pleading for forgiveness. Its eyes looked so impeccably human. So startling.

But why were these discoveries so strange if i really thought about it considering the size of this beastly creature in front of me they weren’t so strange. Nothing about this dangerous but beautiful creature was as it should be. I stared into its truly tantalising eyes and I felt as if I could see deep into the beast’s soul.

One minute I was staring into the eyes of a mountainous wolf and the next a boy. He bore a naked torso but stood behind a fully bloomed bush. My eyes were dragged to his bare chest, rippling with prominent and tight muscles. I found it hard to stop staring but I examined every detail of his body that i could see with eager eyes. His olive, tanned skin, his powerful facial features, and his eyes that held a slight essence of innocence, youth and regret. Deep down he was simplistically a scared teenage boy, the same age as me. After I was over the shock I completely freaked out. How was this possible? Was i actually seeing this? Was it all one big dream? Would I wake up and my mum be alive again? I could only hope. These thoughts flooded through my mind. The whole incident was totally overwhelming; I had to get away from this place. Fast. I ran as fast as my damaged leg would allow me, he didn’t try to stop me.

All he said was, “I’m sorry.”

It echoed through my murky mind, ticking like an impending bomb about to erupt into a thick of flames and unbearable heat. Then he ran into the treacherous night. I was alone... Until a flood of light submerged from the sharp winding corner on the road and I screamed with all my breath for the car to stop. It did; and i collapsed to my grazed knees, exhausted. 

The events of the hour, maybe longer, played in a loop inside my head. My own personal form of torture – and it was all down to myself.  I couldn’t take it anymore and i broke down in tears, tears of sorrow and despair flowed down my bruised and battered cheeks. A woman came running over; the clatter of her heels against the road thundered through my head and broke me out of my zombie-like trance. Her husband, I assumed he was her Husband, was furiously pushing buttons on his iphone and then rambling down the phone in a desperate rush. They arrived in a haze of lights, it all became a blur.

I was the walking dead.


I woke from my terrible nightmare, the same gruesome nightmare that plagued my sleep night after night after night since the disastrous event.  Sweat was dripping off every inch of my burning skin, an excruciating blaze of heat consuming my body; with tears tumbling down my clammy cheeks at a furious speed, and screaming at the top of my lungs in utter sorrow and pain.

I just lay their waiting every night for my father to come running to my bedside to comfort me and tell me everything would be fine like a father should. But it never happened. NEVER! My Father hated me with all his guts and blamed me for my mum’s death. I remember at the hospital when he received the devastating news of my mum’s death, the women he irrevocably loved. He had came charging toward me with a hostile intent and screamed in my face, “This is your fault, you pathetic child - if you hadn’t been so self obsessed this would never have happened. This is on your conscience!”

I sobbed and sobbed for hours curled up in a protective ball against the dingy hospital corridor walls; cold and alone. I had thought to myself he’s right, this is my fault. It just made the tears flow more violently.

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