Beverly is a new short that I’m currently working on. It’s a fun, fast-paced thrill ride set in a world where the paranormal and androids collide. It’s a story that I think people will enjoy once it’s complete.
Here’s a sneak peak if you’re interested.
London glittered outside her window, like a jewel beneath the sun. It was bright, colorful, and very pretty. A crescent moon hung in the starry sky, its ends, tipped and sharp, seemed to Beverly to point to the London Eye. That made her smile.
Holstering her sidearm, Beverly turned from the wall of glass that was her apartment window, grabbed her jacket off her bed and put it on. The jacket was as white as the snow on the ground outside. It hugged her slim body, curving with her hips, stopping just above the knees.
Light flooded the room, focusing its intense beam on Beverly. She stared, seemingly bored, at her shadow standing tall on the wall. Beverly raised her hands, staring straight ahead. The white light turned red, shrank to half its size, and began a slow up and down scan of her body.
“Shit,” Beverly groaned.
The beam morphed into red, shrank to a third of its size, and focused itself on Beverly’s right hip.
“Well there goes my night out.” Beverly dived, and just in time, as bullets shattered the window and hammered the wall where her shadow loomed tall. Outside in the hall, a passing maid was cut in half from the force of the bullets. She split roughly in two, both halves falling to the ground in an outpour of red.
Beverly rolled out of her dive, landing on her knees. In that one motion she drew her side arm, and took aim on the hovering mass outside her busted window. Wind was whipping, and snowflakes were twisting in and out of her hotel room.
Beverly fired. At once the light, one white now red, stuttered out. Rising to her feet she rushed at the craft. Emergency lights flared on either side of the crafts nose. Glass shattered around Beverly as she burst through her window. She landed upon the craft with a grunt, the slim fingers of her right hand gripping the crafts busted spotlight. A gun turret placed on the right wing turned in her direction. Red dots, a hundred or so, took aim on her.
“Oh no you don’t!” Beverly aimed, fired, her shots taking out the wiring rooted beneath the wing and to the right of the gun turret. It began to spark and flame up. At this point the pilot began to shake the craft, trying in vain to pump Beverly off. “Nice try, pal!”
Beverly pressed the barrel of her gun against the glass, her aim on a now very shocked pilot, and pulled the trigger. The craft went into an immediate tailspin that nearly catapulted Beverly off, but she managed to stay on, though by the tips of her thin fingered hand. It didn’t last long, as she was soon shot from the craft. Her gun flew from her hand.
Beverly’s jacket shot open, first stiffening before morphing into the shape of butterfly wings. Beverly immediately jetted into a loop-da-loop before she could manage to take control of her emergency wings. She slid her hands fully into the metallic handles beneath the wings, and gripped them hard. Above her there was a long, great crashing, a twisting of metal, and shattering of glass. Then, an explosion. The blast wave sent Beverly into a tailspin, this one more violent than the last. She twisted, dove and looped as flaming shrapnel fell down around her.
“Come on,” Beverly growled, her words inarticulate as the wind rippled her cheeks. “Come on!” With the greatest efforts, her fists clenched, Beverly gained control, righting herself as the ground screamed towards her. It was just in time as she dropped another two hundred feet before her feet found concrete. She jostled forward as she let free her hands. Her wings, with many previously unheard whizzing’s and clinking’s, morphed seamlessly back into Beverly’s jacket. She buttoned her jacket as she began a smooth, and frankly runway worth, saunter down the sidewalk. The few men and women on the sidewalk, many having seen her land, giving her looks that spoke of both shock, and admiration. One man wolf whistled. Beverly paid them no attention as she fished her cellphone from her inner jacket pocket.
“Yeah, I’m going to be late. Had a bit of a mishap,” Beverly told her boss. “Yep, that was me. Though to be honest, I didn’t do anything to draw attention to myself. Someone ratted me out.”
The boss spoke rapidly into her ear.
“Yes sir. I was getting dressed when a Skyhawk dropped in front of my window and began to scan me. It found my gun, and I had no choice but to take it out.”
The boss spoke more rapidly yet.
“Yes, sir. On my way.”