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Overview
Kooriime—pronounced koh-oh-ree-may—is a hidden island paradise tucked away from the rest of the world. It serves as a home to the Elves, a beautiful super race living a peaceful existence, unaware that a group of seedy international scientists are preparing to throw their world into turmoil.
Ris Evangalarya, who was stolen from Kooriime at a very young age, spends the better part of his childhood as a lab experiment in Hungary. He is rescued by a branch of the Elven military, called the Traveling Army. Ris falls in love with his savior Adriaan who he is separated from, and then reunited with in his adulthood while living in New York City. Ris, having suffered tremendously during his adolescence, battles with his own inner turmoil as he slowly puts together the broken pieces of his life, and hopes to eventually find solace in his savior.
Azurelli Ammamiilliia’s life in paradise was perfect until one fateful day when he was abducted from the beach, along with his mother and sister, by an invading mob of scientists. He spends his time in a prison in Antarctica struggling to keep his mother and sister from starving to death, and befriends Meilynn—a young Elven man in pursuit of a respectable Elven marriage, and his brother Sayten who is eventually chosen by the scientists for experimentation and is dissected alive in front of his family who watches helplessly. Also in the same cell is Fierohaan Orrebbiore who, through acts of courage and bravery, tries his best to save the lives of his co-captives, and finds love in the most unlikely person.
After being separated from his family and placed in a laboratory prison in Greenland, Rockliiastan Avalanche is reunited with what’s left of them on the great ship of the Traveling Army. Once brought to a hideaway in New York, he learns of the dangers of the foreign metropolis the hard way and sells his body to feed his family, proving that there is nothing he wouldn’t do for the people he loves. Dionollah, an orphan neglected by society, finds himself in an Icelandic laboratory after attempting to fight off masked scientists whose submarine washed up on a beach. Once his consciousness is regained, he teams up with a dangerous and eccentric thief to plot their escape from the lab.
In this fantasy tale, the Elves embark on a journey filled with dreams, danger, love, and hope for a new future.
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781458209269 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Abbott Press |
| Publication date: | 05/23/2013 |
| Pages: | 580 |
| Product dimensions: | 6.00(w) x 9.00(h) x 1.29(d) |
Read an Excerpt
Kooriime (Koh-Oh-Ree-May)
By L. A. Jones, Antonio Clemente Fernandez
Abbott Press
Copyright © 2013 L. A. JonesAll rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4582-0926-9
CHAPTER 1
RIS EVANGALARYA
I can't remember much of anything these days. The heroin and cocaine surely didn't help. My only memory of Kooriime was being on the beach. I was five years old and I remember being excited at the prospect of attending school soon. Someone told me that I would need to be a good swimmer to do well in school, but I can't remember who. It was windy that day. I remember the feel of it ruffling my hair, and I remember the palm trees swaying. The wind smelled delicious; like sea salt, wet sand, fresh fish, and some kind of flowers—maybe hibiscus? This is what all of my good dreams smell like; or at least the ones that don't smell like Adriaan. My bad dreams smell like blood, sweat, and latex.
In this memory, I dipped my small toes into the water. It was cold, so it couldn't have been long after the cold season ended, but it wasn't freezing and I could already smell that the flowers were in bloom. I remember my face reflected in the water; it was round and chubby with dimples in my cheeks. I still have the same big, sharp, grey eyes and thick black lashes that annoy me when they brush against the lenses of my sunglasses. My sleek brown hair was short in the back, but the front of my hair was longer and cut in various lengths. Parts of my uneven bangs reached my cheeks.
I removed all of my clothing and stood waist-deep in the clear water. I remember vividly how clear the water is in Kooriime. It wasn't blue, or green, or grey, or even turquoise the way it is here in the United States. It's clear; the way that water looks when it pours from a faucet and fills up a cup. The water in your cup is never blue or grey or green. It's completely transparent. It does look blue when you observe the ocean from a distance, but when you're right at the shoreline, it's all completely clear. The entire salty ocean is this way.
It was very sunny that day. A rainbow stretched overhead, and there weren't any clouds in sight. Because the ocean was hit with direct sunlight, you could see everything beneath the surface. It was a glorious Technicolor array of marine life. The coolness of the water didn't bother me once I was submerged to my waist. I delved into the ocean and swam at my leisure. For some reason, I know that I've spent an extensive amount of time practicing holding my breath underwater; but I don't remember ever practicing. I could hold my breath for two whole minutes underwater before I needed to come up for air. I was excited to be swimming all by myself. I remember being mesmerized by the beautiful scenery of the underwater world. There were huge angelfish in every color and pattern imaginable, scorpion fish, silvery mullets, sea bream, schools of porgy, manta rays, eels, orange clownfish, pink jellyfish, green and red coral, giant clams and conches, swordfish, dugongs, and sharks—I've never been afraid of sharks because they've never paid me any mind. I resurfaced. I was really far from the shore and getting hungry. I remember thinking how excited my parents would be (at least I think I wanted to impress my parents. I don't remember them at all ...) if I brought home a big fish for lunch all by myself. Though, I can't even remember where I lived.
I saw a large, mean-looking barracuda swim by beneath me. I dived and chased it. It was fast and kept going and going. It continued to dart straight forward, then dived suddenly right when I was gaining on it. I crashed head-first into a large, grey metal mass that I hadn't seen before because I had my eye on that barracuda. I hit my head hard. I tried opening my eyes, but all I could see was the grey mass, but blurry and distorted. My nose and lungs began to burn as they filled with water. I couldn't feel my body below my head which was searing in pain. Then everything went dark.
There was a bright white light scorching my retinas, the next time I can remember ever opening my eyes. My back was against something hard, flat, and cold. The pain was gone, but I was paralyzed. No matter how hard I tried to move, I couldn't. All I could do was stare up into that white light or close my eyes. So I closed my eyes again. I stared at the inside of my eyelids for a long time, which were illuminated red from the light on the other side of them. I could hear a soft ticking and a strange far-off humming, but nothing else. As far as I could tell, everything was still.
My next memory is stranger. I opened my eyes, and there were two creatures hovering over me. My eyes focused in on them, standing over me. They kind of looked like people. Their skin was ruddy and dotted, not soft and smooth like that of all the people skin I'd ever seen. The hair was missing from the tops of both their heads. One of them only had hair on the sides of his skull right above his ears. The other had hair on the lower part of his face, around his cheeks and chin. I now know that this is called a beard. Both of the men had hair of uneven shades of white and grey. They both wore glasses with thick lenses. At the time, I thought that the glasses were part of their faces. They had very small eyes behind those glasses. One had a set of watery blue, while the other had pale green eyes with flecks of brown. It looked like they were both missing their upper lips. They seemed startled when they noticed me staring up at them. The balder of the two picked up a kind of cup in his fat bloody latex hands and placed it over my mouth and nose. A terrible smell emitted from the cup. And as the odor made its way up my nose and down my throat, my vision blurred. Everything got hazier and hazier until it was dark again.
The next memory was one of the worst because it may be one of the few incidents I remember. My stomach sinks and my thighs go numb every time it creeps into my mind, because I know that I've suppressed many more like it. I remember a lot when I sleep. I scream and writhe in agony when I sleep. But when I wake up, the nightmare slips away from me, like trying to hold water in my cupped hands. I don't want to remember, but still, there are times when I wish I knew exactly what it is that turns me into a screaming basket case at night. I try not to sleep any more. I drink numerous cups of coffee a day, and I work all night to keep myself busy. Sometimes I work all night re-touching my photographs ... but other times, I like to find a partner to busy myself with.
I felt a prick and something make its way in and out of the flesh in my arm. I had a vague memory of being stung by a bee some time before. I don't know how much time earlier. Bees are so small, but the pain from the sting isn't. This was like that. What ever entered my arm was also small and left a big sting. My arm just stung. My body was slung face-forward over something hard and cylindrical that pressed into my stomach. I knew I was naked because I could feel everything around me. The realization that I was awake made the tiny hairs on my body stand on end. I was awake, and I could feel. But I still couldn't move. I heard people laughing far off, and then heard footsteps growing louder and louder. A door creaked open, and footsteps approached.
"How is he doing?" a male voice asked. I could tell the voice was male, but it was phlegmy and rougher than any I'd ever heard. I couldn't understand their language at the time, but the few memories I have are so vivid, that I can understand their dialogue now upon reflection.
"He's ready to go, Korb," said a second male voice to my right. "He shouldn't make a sound. I'll lock the door on my way out. You'll like this. I had my turn last night. Their skin is always so soft."
"Thank you, Giergl. See you in the morning."
"Don't get caught," warned Giergl as he left.
This is the part that at times causes me to projectile vomit uncontrollably in my waking life.
Korb turned on a lamp on a table to the right of where my head was positioned. I saw him peel the latex skin from his hands. I guess they were gloves. I could see that he wore what I now know to be a white lab coat. He walked around me and stood behind me. His shadow washed over me. He leaned over me and sniffed my hair. I felt the tip of his nose brush against my ear. He ran his callused hands down my back and stopped at my buttocks. I heard a metallic tinkling and a zipper coming undone. He pulled apart my butt cheeks. My eyes widened. I couldn't move. I wanted so badly to move my hands and cover myself. I wanted very badly to turn around and bite him. More than anything else, I desperately wanted to run. Something kept pushing hard between my butt cheeks. Something hard, like a pole. I didn't know what was back there, or what Korb was hoping to happen by poking around there. Soon, it was as if something broke. I imagined a tap puncturing a tree for sap. That big pole forced its way inside of me but there wasn't any room for it. It kept pushing, trying to make the space bigger and bigger. The only sound was that of the big oaf breathing heavily and the jingling of what I now assumed to be his belt. His sweat kept dripping down my back as he stood over me, trying his hardest to carve his way through my backside. His knees kept crashing into the back of mine. I couldn't breathe easily. My body was tense. My chest felt too tight to allow enough air to pass through it. My eyes began to water—or was I crying? It was hard to tell. The pain was so bad, I'm sure it was both. There was a very unpleasant metallic smell in the air, and something hot and thick slowly ran down my leg. This made me nauseated and dizzy. The ramming and scraping continued until finally, he fell over on me, crushing my esophagus against this strange log I was draped over. My eyes unfocused, and the room slowly fell away from me.
I woke up one day naked and sitting on the floor against a wall. I was always naked. My arms were raised over my head and shackled to the wall. I could feel some kind of tape around my neck that scratched beneath my chin when I moved my head from side to side. I could move! It's been so long, that I wasn't sure I ever could move again. Or maybe I had been mobile from time to time, but I don't have any recollection of that. The most shocking thing I noticed was that my hair sat on my back below my shoulder. I looked down at my crossed legs, and realized that they were not the short chubby legs I'd remembered. I lost all of my baby fat. I was scrawny. I could see my ribs through my skin. I was taller. My arms and legs were far more elongated than I had ever seen them. I realized that I had no idea how old I was, who I was, or where I was. I seemed to know what I should look like; but I didn't recognize myself. I tried remembering my name, but I couldn't. I tried remembering why I thought I should have a name in the first place, but I couldn't. I stretched my legs out in front of me and wiggled my toes. Everything seemed to work okay. I had large black, blue, purple, and yellow bruises on my legs, thighs, and ribs. I don't know why. I leaned my head back and it hit the wall. I swallowed, blinked a few times, jiggled my arms; just to see if I could. I raised one leg up, and I put it down. Then I tried the same thing with the other leg; it worked out fine. My body was sore all over. A quick flash of memory came to mind. I was crashing wildly into what I can only describe as furniture. Then the memory went away almost as quickly as it came. To this day I still have random flashes I can't quite piece together. I sat and tried to think for a while. Not much came to my mind. I looked around the room. The walls were stark white. There were long, rectangular fluorescent lights hanging from the white ceiling. I'd never seen light like this before. It hurt my eyes. There was a silver metal door in front of me but off to the right a little. The floors were square panels of what I now know to be linoleum. The tiles were off-white with flecks of grey. I counted all of the squares around me that I could see. Canmine (forty-one).
Just then, the door opened and a scientist walked in wearing the usual white lab coat. I don't know when I've ever met this one, but he seemed to know me. He was smiling at me when he walked in carrying a tray of some kind of food. He had a broad face and rust-colored hair and beard. They always wore glasses. His were too square to be allowed. He set the tray down on the floor near me and kneeled down beside me.
"Good afternoon, my friend!" he said in his throaty voice. It was almost like a croak. He didn't speak the same language as me, but I found that I could understand him. This realization really made me nervous. How long had I been there?
"Now let us do zis again, same as yezerday. Okay? Then you can 'ave some food. Okay?" the scientist said.
He grinned, then walked to the other side of the room and retrieved some things. He rifled through some papers for a while, and then clipped them to a clipboard. He turned to me and kneeled again so that we were eye level to one another.
"Okay. Now vat does zis say?" He held up the clipboard before me. It had a bold word on it printed in black ink.
"Boat," I answered. My voice was slightly hoarse from disuse. I don't know how I knew the answer to his question, but I recognized the letters.
He held up another page with another word on it.
"Plate," I said instinctively. It all felt so mechanical and I felt bored, like I'd played this game too many times. He kept holding up more words and I kept telling him what they read.
"Air plane, money, scientist, teacher, human, apple, door, light bulb, butterfly, people, cat, monkey ..."
"And 'ave you ever seen a monkey before?" he asked me.
"No," I said. He showed me about a dozen more words, and I read them. Then he asked me:
"Now, tell me your name." I hesitated and thought for a while. I didn't know my name. I was silent.
"Vee do zis every day, and every day you vill not tell me your name. Reika told me her name. Do you know Reika?" He seemed impatient with me. It did feel like we've gone through this before but I have no idea how many times.
"If you tell me your name, I vill take you next door to play vit Reika. She iz very pretty, you know. She 'az pretty red hair and grey eyes like yours. Soon, you can mate. Vouldn't you like zat? You look to be around ze same age. Do you know 'ow old you are?"
I had no idea what he was talking about, but my insides grew hot and I felt angry. I shook my head no at his questions. I was curious though. There was another person like me here?
He sighed.
"Fine. Let's play ze number game now. Okay?" He held up some numbers on his clipboard and I was able to recite the names of all of them to him. My stomach growled just then. The smell of whatever was on that tray started to greatly appeal to me.
"Okay," he said. He placed those papers aside, reached into his pocket, and pulled out a small flat silver key. He stood up and removed the shackles from my arms. My wrists were cut and red. They had marks on them that were older than the fresh cuff marks. I reached for the food, but he pulled the tray away. "No no. First we play ze counting game. Zen you eat."
I gritted my teeth and groaned, then looked down again at how frail my arms were. Punching him wouldn't be sufficient right now.
"Now I vill say a number, and you vill hold up your fingers to show me 'ow many fingers it vill take to show me ze number I call out. Okay?" he said with a grin.
Hatred surged through me, though I wasn't a hundred percent sure why. All I knew was that I was hungry and that I hated this man. He called out about twenty random numbers and I held up my fingers depicting them. When he was through, he slid the tray close to me and I began devouring the lunch. It was all virtually tasteless and not at all satisfying; but I knew that it was all I'd get. I ate a hard bland roll of what could only be described as bread, the smallest red apple I'd ever seen, something brown and chewy which could've been meat, and something chopped up, soft and orange. Then I swallowed an entire glass of flavorless white liquid, which was suppose to be the milk of an animal I'd never heard of called a cow. The scientist watched me eat while making notes on his clipboard.
"Can I see a mirror?" I asked, startled that I was able to articulate what I wanted in this strange language.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Kooriime (Koh-Oh-Ree-May) by L. A. Jones, Antonio Clemente Fernandez. Copyright © 2013 L. A. Jones. Excerpted by permission of Abbott Press.
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