March Madness FanFic – Sam Dogra

Some of you might not understand what fanfic is, I know I didn’t know what it was before Sam told me, so I thought the best way was to give you the Urban Dictionary definition.

Got it? Good! So Sam wanted to inspire you with some of her fanfic of the Timeless Series for March Madness. Write some fanfic and we’ll post it! It’ll be fun!

 

Colt

 

I can’t breathe, and darkness surrounds me. I’m running somewhere–a forest maybe–but I can’t see. Cheyenne…where is Cheyenne?!
Someone screams- it’s her! Frantically I change direction, heading for the sound. Growls echo around me, and my heart tightens. The Tresez, they’re here, they’re going to kill her!
 I stumble into a patch of light, and gasp. She’s lying there on the ground, face down, her blonde curls matted and dirty. She’s not moving.
“Cheyenne!” Her name rips through my lungs, but she doesn’t stir. Damn it, why doesn’t she move?! “Cheyenne, it’s me! Wake up! Wake up!”
Her fingers claw at the earth, and then relax, lifeless. Now I can see the blood pooling around her throat and chest. No…she’s…
“CHEYENNE!”
###
My eyes snapped open and I bolted upright, panting. My entire body was covered in cold sweat, and I was breathing as if I’d run a marathon. Slowly, my mind snapped into focus. I was home, in bed, alone. Scant moonlight poured through my open window, soft, soothing.
I ran my hands through my hair, which was damp. Man, that had been some nightmare. How’d it come into my head? Cheyenne didn’t even know her true birth right yet, and there I was dreaming that the Tresez- our hated enemy- was after her. They couldn’t reach her, not yet. Not til she started transforming…
 The sheets were too constricting, so I threw them off and stood up. The clock on my bedside read 04:00. Nice and early, then. But even as I walked around my room, trying to calm my racing heart, I couldn’t shake off the feeling of dread. What if something had happened to Cheyenne? I’d never forgive myself for letting her get hurt.
 Without thinking I snatched my phone from my dresser and punched in her number. It rang and rang and rang, and I thought it was going to voicemail, when someone answered. There was a lot of rustling and fumbling, before Cheyenne’s groggy voice asked,
 “H-Hello?”
“Cheyenne, only me,” I said, relief coursing through. Of course she was safe in bed; why wouldn’t she be?
 “Colt, why the hell are you ringing at this hour?” Cheyenne growled, though it ended as a loud yawn. “What’s the matter? Are you hurt?”
 “No, no,” I said. Just hearing her speak to me was so comforting. “I was…uh…trying to dial for a pizza.”
 “Odd, that the pizza place’s number is so similar to mine,” Cheyenne drawled. “Go to sleep, I’ll see you at school.”
“Yeah, of course, sorry. Good night.”
 “Night.”
I heard her hang up, and snapped the phone shut. Idiot, Colt: she was going to be cranky tomorrow. She always was when she didn’t get her beauty sleep.
 Satisfied that she wasn’t in any real danger, I curled back into bed.
I didn’t have any further dreams.
 ###
 “You are so gonna pay for last night!”
 I turned around from the school gate, only to see an irate Cheyenne marching up to me. Her hair was a little messier than usual, and she had bags under her eyes.
“Looking radiant as always, Cheyenne,” I smiled. Cheyenne however had proven resistant to my charms, and she glared.
 “Thanks to your little pizza order, I overslept this morning. I had to get Dad to drive me,” she said, poking me in the chest. “I hope you had indigestion, you pig.”
“Hey, it was an honest mistake!” I said, holding my hands up. “It’s not my fault that ‘Westley Pizza Co.’ is right next to ‘Cheyenne Wilson’ on my phone.”
“But who orders a pizza at four in the morning?!” Cheyenne spluttered. She ran a hand through her hair, before she began twisting the ring on her finger. “We’ll discuss this later. Come on, or we’ll be late for History.”
I followed her into the school grounds, managing a smile. Yup, she was definitely cranky alright. Though this was nothing compared to how antsy Callon could get, so I was well prepared to endure whatever she planned to throw at me.
As we took our seats in class, the bell rang. Phew; just in time. I’d already had my fair share of detentions for being late- usually on the days when Cheyenne was off sick, as she was the one who ferried me from class to class.
 Soon Professor Collins stormed in. He threw off his tweed jacket, and rapped his knuckles on the desk, silencing everyone.
“Know what day is it today?” he asked. We all stared at him blankly, then shook our heads. “It’s time for my Test on the American Revolution.”
Everyone groaned. Cheyenne’s eyes widened.
 “But sir,” she said, “you said you’d postpone it to next week because of the basketball tournament.”
 “I’ve changed my mind,” Professor Collins said. “I hope you were paying attention last Friday.”
 I rolled my eyes. Yet another exam I was going to flunk. Callon had promised to tutor me but he was really only good at the sciences. But if I failed the humanities subjects like English or History, they’d make me repeat the grade. And that would be bad, not just because of the humiliation, but I’d lose my place with Cheyenne.
 And Callon would kill me.
 “Fancy dropping me some clues?” I whispered to Cheyenne as the professor began handing out the papers.
“Don’t you ever do any work?” Cheyenne hissed back. “I’m not going to help you cheat.”
“I should hope not, Miss Wilson,” Professor Collins chimed, dumping the last two papers between us. Cheyenne’s cheeks blossomed pink, and she shot me a dark look. I chuckled.