Lola Rose Jones

This is the prologue of a book I’m writing, I personally don’t know if it’s going anywhere, but hey, worth a go. Enjoy.

Also super excited about Doctor Who announcement and Sherlock trailer, but I’ll leave that for tomorrow.





She was walking along a dark alley-way, her black hoodie up and My Chemical Romance blaring in her ear, when she noticed a shifty movement behind her. She quickened her step, hoping and praying that they wouldn’t make the mistake of attacking her.

They did.

One grabbed her bag from her shoulder while the other pushed and banged her against the wall. She was tempted to do the frightened-girl impression, that even made the police leave her alone, but she had already seen the hunger and greed in their eyes, and rendered the idea useless.

It was a shame they had picked her.

While they pinned her against the wall and went through her bag, she sighed, loudly and dramatically.

Rule Number One: Catch them off guard. People always underestimate teenage girls in a supposedly powerless situation.

She gave them both exaggerated doleful look, widening her big, round eyes – whose irises were so brown, it nearly blended in neatly with her pupil – while they just stared at her in amazement.

‘Oh boys,’ she said, shaking her head in mock-pity. ‘You couldn’t just leave well enough alone.’

Rule Number Two: Gloat. Embarrass. Rub it in and make them angry, because angry people make stupid mistakes.

‘Honestly, how pathetic can you be? Robbing a seventeen year old girl?’ She had her defence planned out about three seconds ago, but she did enjoy watching their faces go from confusion to outrage.

The first man, a skinhead, was burly and had done boxing all his life before joining the underground crime scene. The second man was pretty insignificant, only that he had a big gold watch hanging off his skinny wrist.

But they didn’t know how outmatched they were.

The girl lashed out, hooking her leg under Burly, and making him trip. He scrabbled at her, making her iPod fall out of the pocket, and the earphone pulled out of the jack.

‘Your weary widow mar-ches…’

She kneed Rolex in the abdomen, making him double over. She met his head with her other knee, and he was out for the count.

She loved that phrase.

‘Disappointed faces of your peers, oh oh oh… ‘

Burly looked as if he was struggling with his jacket, and she hesitated a second too long before realizing that he was about to extract a hand gun from his make-shift holster. She ran to the side, while the all-too-familiar sound of the gun followed her at her heels.


She jumped on the wall, and did a head-over-heels flip, landing behind the assailant’s shoulder and yanking the gun away from his grip. In a swift movement, she wrenched the cartridge out of the gun and threw it away. Burly was looking at her now, as if she was another species.

Well, technically…

‘Do or die you’ll never make me…’

Burly was back-pedaling away fast, tripping over his own feet trying to get away from her. But there was one more Rule.

Never leave any witnesses.

She looked at the people who had been unlucky enough to try to rob her, and felt pity stirring in her guts. She wouldn’t kill them. A serious sounding threat should shut them up sufficiently.

‘I won’t explain, or say I’m sorry…’

She moved to Burly, who was still attempting to crawl away, and put a foot on his ample stomach. She moved her face right beside his, applying more pressure with her foot.

Intimidation isn’t about how you look, how much money you have or what you have that they don’t. It’s about secreting power through the very pores of your body. You need to get under their skin.

‘I’m just a man; I’m not a hero…’

She put her lips by her ear and whispered, but it rang in the ears of Burly. ‘If I ever see you, hear you, or even smell you, ever again, I will not hesitate. I will kill you.’ She applied more pressure with her foot, and the man whimpered. ‘If you ever talk about me, I will find you, I will hunt you down, and I will not be as merciful.’ She nodded at Rolex. ‘Better tell him too.’

She straightened, the knot in her stomach dissolving, and gave the man a kick up the ribs for good measure. He started crying. She moved away, disgusted, and picked up the blaring iPod from the ground. She inspected it. Just as she thought.

It’s totally cracked.


She quickly turned off the music, and glanced around the alley-way. The highest window was in the second story, about 10 feet up. It was closed and the curtains were drawn. It looked like no one was home. She glanced up and down the alley and breathed a sigh of relief. She shouldn’t have worried. They were far too stupid for the Institute to send and kill her. There were easier ways to kill her with no witnesses and no casualties.

She didn’t notice miniature camera that was implanted into Burly’s eye, or the recording device on Rolex’s watch. As she picked up her bag and walked away briskly, a live image was sent to a laptop, in a top secret location at a top secret meeting in New York, and before the screen went blank – as Burly fainted – there was a sudden feeling of elation in the room. The Head Master even dared to give a genuine smile. The delight in his deep, Scottish voice was unmistakable.

‘We’ve found her.’

He looked around the room, and for the first time in five years, he felt like he had the upper hand, and like his life had purpose again.

They had found her.


Until next time,

Rivanna xxx


One thought on “Lola Rose Jones

  1. Pingback: Rivanna Knows What's Just About Right | The Joy of Writing

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s