S
Soleni
Guest
I've finally finished the first chapter, despite frequent bouts of 'I stink' syndrome. It's kind of an odd story, and tells you a lot about what goes on in my twisted imagination.
Later chapters contain a fictional religion, so i'll put a $ next to the chapter title if it does in case people might find it upsetting.
All in all, I'll give the first chapter a PG-13, because there is quite a bit of violence/death.
Enjoy!
Screams rang out across the land. A cousin, a mother, a son. None of which would ever escape the hellhole that was once Denim City.
The ground was parched and cracked, buildings lay in ruins, and bodies littered the streets. And all the while, the city burned.
A single man watched unharmed, as corpses fell at his feet. He stood, unblinking, as his loved ones turned to ash, while the flames merely scorched the rim of his long, black cape. He stood, arms outstretched, welcoming the chaos, his eyes glinting with untold malice. His hat was cocked, covering the bright blue runes that glowed on his forehead.
He was cold, despite the fire, and ancient, even though he didn’t show it.
He was…. a monster.
Of course, none of the children knew anything of this. It was a beautiful sunny day; birds were singing, the sun was shining, and life was looking great.
Besides, why would such morbid thoughts cross the mind of a twelve year-old?
A ragtag bunch of thirty kids were playing on the corner of Honey Street. They were singing, laughing and making the most of the summer sun.
They were waiting for the coach to thier boarding school, to be specific, the Sweeton Academy of Knowledge in Local and Foreign Pokemon (some kids passed the time by daring each other to say it ten times fast). It was an old-fashioned school, full of chandeliers, cushy armchairs and four poster beds. It was posh, but the rules were lax, and everyone was looking forward to the nationwide soccer tournament that they held there in summer.
All in all, it was looking pretty bright (even for Geoffrey Lewis, who was locked in his own suitcase as a dare).
Serenity Capone was at the other end of the street, wheeling along a trunk as big as a small wardrobe. After all, when she’d won a scholarship she’d been so excited she packed every book, magazine and audio tape with even a mention of the word ‘Pokemon’.
She was a rather pretty teenager; her skin had a stunning natural tan, and her cocoa-coloured hair was swept into an expertly braided plait. It shimmered in the sun as she walked up the street. Her round, joyous face was shining as brightly as a Pichu’s cheeks, and a smile lit it up like the morning sun. Her towering frame was that of one way beyond her years.
The only part of her that showed her poor heritage was her clothes. She was wearing her school uniform, a fashion disaster on its own, but hers was greyed and tattered. Her shirt was bleached white instead of cream and her skirt showed obvious signs of having been dyed to achieve it’s almost neon shade of pink.
Nevertheless, Seren (as she had nicknamed herself) was beaming as she neared the street corner. An orange coach had pulled up, its engine hissing and squeaking as if an angry Persian was locked in the hold. On the front, an LED sign bore the legend ‘No. 89 Sweeton Island’.
Seren joined the line of children at the coach door, pulling a pink ticket from her trunk’s front pocket. Excitement tugged at her heart, after a year at this school she could become a Pokemon Trainer!
She pushed her trunk into the side compartment, closing it as she was the last in the queue, and stepped into the coach.
“There you go, sir,” she said politely, passing her ticket to the podgy old man in the driver’s seat.
Seren stepped aboard, and a girl waved to her from the back seat. She walked over and went to sit next to her, when-
CRASH!
Seren flew through the back window and the glass shattered like ice, with the force of a shotgun bullet. She fell onto her knees, her left arm hanging limb and bloody at her side. The coach had driven into a hole, and was teetering on the edge. Seren jumped, her arms were blistered and burning. The tarmac pavement had started melting!
Suddenly, everything got a hundred times hotter. The tiles on a house roof cracked under the strain, as a lamppost turned into a pile of sludge. Seren’s hair frizzled and burned, and the coach’s wheels stuck to the ground as it tried vainly to reverse.
A girl started clambering out of the broken back window while smoke flooded the coach. The driver fell slumped at the wheel, and Seren grabbed the girl’s hand with her unbroken arm. She tried to pull her out, but the girl simply flopped out, a shard of glass speared through her heart.
Seren fell back on the ground in shock. Her spine burned on the hot ground, but she lay frozen as the coach engine split open. The scrambling children were doused in petrol as they tried to climb out of the window. The heat met the petrol, and the coach exploded, taking the children with it.
The hole split further, tearing the street apart. Seren started crying; this had to be a bad dream…
The last thing she saw before she fell into the depths of the ground was a caped man, cold even though he was surrounded by fire.
Am I…dead? Thought Seren, as she lay motionless on the floor.
Surely, if you were alive you would be able to move your arms, replied the voice of reason inside her head.
She opened her eyes, and was surprised to find that she was not on the floor, but floating in the air. She looked right and left, and could only see darkness. Right, I’m definitely dead.
[You’re not dead, child.] replied a motherly voice from inside her head.
“W-where are you?” Seren blurted out, taken aback by the fact you could be floating in the air and hearing angel’s voices without being classified as dead. “Where am I?” she added, as an afterthought.
[You are with me.] said the voice, as if it was the stupidest question you could ask at a time like this. [And, I’m not an angel.]
“You can read my mind?” said Seren, dumbstruck.
[I can do many things.] the voice replied.
Seren just stared blankly into the abyss, wondering at this cryptic answer. “But I can’t even see you…” she muttered.
She gasped, as a huge whale-like bird appeared out of nowhere. It had silky feathers that flowed together, giving the impression that it had none at all. They were of the purest silver, and gave off a glow even in the darkness. There were blood red columns sprouting out of its back like wings, although they didn’t need to flap to keep the Pokemon suspended. Its arms and legs were almost humanlike, and seemed out of place, as did its rabbit-like ears. Its colossal head bore a shield shaped red mask, framed by its bright yellow eyes, which smiled at Seren from within her very soul.
Seren was seeing a legendary Pokemon in the flesh!
[You are safe in this cave, at least for a little longer.] said the Latias, a twinge of sorrow in her voice.
And no sooner had she said that, the darkness faded, and Seren was indeed floating in the middle of a damp cave. And then, she wasn’t floating.
Seren hit the floor hard, sharp stones cutting into her face and arms. All the pain suddenly returned and she could feel the blisters on her arms pop as she rolled onto her back.
She lay there for a moment, breathing heavily, blood trickling down her face. She craned her neck to see the cave roof, where the Latias was hovering, staring up through the hole at the fire that was now blazing through the city.
Seren’s heart was in her throat, as the Latias burst into a thousand balls of red light. These flew through the hole and into Honey Street, as Seren fell unconscious below.
Time stood still as the balls of light flew into the fire. It stopped flickering and vanished. More light balls flew into the rubble, and it formed back into houses. Gaining speed, the lights went to work, regenerating the street and rewinding time. Tiles flew back into place, a lamppost sprang up from a pile of melted iron, and the crack in the ground sealed, as the last few balls of light vanished.
The street restored and time restarted, although there was no bringing back the dead, who appeared in houses with no explanation for them being there. A woman came into the kitchen to find her husband dead, his skin burnt off his bones, and for some reason, her arm was covered in blisters. Screams rang out, and the Police Station was flooded with calls.
Far below the chaos, a single glowing light appeared in the darkness, and a voice floated on the air.
[It’s your turn now.]
A man walked silently through the street, invisible to the eyes of passers by. His cape blew in the wind, and his hat was cocked, covering the bright blue runes that now dissolved from his forehead. He fell to the ground, just another corpse, as a beam of red light broke through his chest and shot through the sky.
So, tell me what you think, leave questions, make corrections and then wait for the next installation.
EDIT: I've seen your corrections, there's quite a collection.
I've fixed the grammar with my mighty writing hammer. *squee*
Yes, I am a bit nuts. ~Soleni
Later chapters contain a fictional religion, so i'll put a $ next to the chapter title if it does in case people might find it upsetting.
All in all, I'll give the first chapter a PG-13, because there is quite a bit of violence/death.
Enjoy!
Chapter 1: Boarding School, and all the perks.
Screams rang out across the land. A cousin, a mother, a son. None of which would ever escape the hellhole that was once Denim City.
The ground was parched and cracked, buildings lay in ruins, and bodies littered the streets. And all the while, the city burned.
A single man watched unharmed, as corpses fell at his feet. He stood, unblinking, as his loved ones turned to ash, while the flames merely scorched the rim of his long, black cape. He stood, arms outstretched, welcoming the chaos, his eyes glinting with untold malice. His hat was cocked, covering the bright blue runes that glowed on his forehead.
He was cold, despite the fire, and ancient, even though he didn’t show it.
He was…. a monster.
*
Of course, none of the children knew anything of this. It was a beautiful sunny day; birds were singing, the sun was shining, and life was looking great.
Besides, why would such morbid thoughts cross the mind of a twelve year-old?
A ragtag bunch of thirty kids were playing on the corner of Honey Street. They were singing, laughing and making the most of the summer sun.
They were waiting for the coach to thier boarding school, to be specific, the Sweeton Academy of Knowledge in Local and Foreign Pokemon (some kids passed the time by daring each other to say it ten times fast). It was an old-fashioned school, full of chandeliers, cushy armchairs and four poster beds. It was posh, but the rules were lax, and everyone was looking forward to the nationwide soccer tournament that they held there in summer.
All in all, it was looking pretty bright (even for Geoffrey Lewis, who was locked in his own suitcase as a dare).
Serenity Capone was at the other end of the street, wheeling along a trunk as big as a small wardrobe. After all, when she’d won a scholarship she’d been so excited she packed every book, magazine and audio tape with even a mention of the word ‘Pokemon’.
She was a rather pretty teenager; her skin had a stunning natural tan, and her cocoa-coloured hair was swept into an expertly braided plait. It shimmered in the sun as she walked up the street. Her round, joyous face was shining as brightly as a Pichu’s cheeks, and a smile lit it up like the morning sun. Her towering frame was that of one way beyond her years.
The only part of her that showed her poor heritage was her clothes. She was wearing her school uniform, a fashion disaster on its own, but hers was greyed and tattered. Her shirt was bleached white instead of cream and her skirt showed obvious signs of having been dyed to achieve it’s almost neon shade of pink.
Nevertheless, Seren (as she had nicknamed herself) was beaming as she neared the street corner. An orange coach had pulled up, its engine hissing and squeaking as if an angry Persian was locked in the hold. On the front, an LED sign bore the legend ‘No. 89 Sweeton Island’.
Seren joined the line of children at the coach door, pulling a pink ticket from her trunk’s front pocket. Excitement tugged at her heart, after a year at this school she could become a Pokemon Trainer!
She pushed her trunk into the side compartment, closing it as she was the last in the queue, and stepped into the coach.
“There you go, sir,” she said politely, passing her ticket to the podgy old man in the driver’s seat.
Seren stepped aboard, and a girl waved to her from the back seat. She walked over and went to sit next to her, when-
CRASH!
Seren flew through the back window and the glass shattered like ice, with the force of a shotgun bullet. She fell onto her knees, her left arm hanging limb and bloody at her side. The coach had driven into a hole, and was teetering on the edge. Seren jumped, her arms were blistered and burning. The tarmac pavement had started melting!
Suddenly, everything got a hundred times hotter. The tiles on a house roof cracked under the strain, as a lamppost turned into a pile of sludge. Seren’s hair frizzled and burned, and the coach’s wheels stuck to the ground as it tried vainly to reverse.
A girl started clambering out of the broken back window while smoke flooded the coach. The driver fell slumped at the wheel, and Seren grabbed the girl’s hand with her unbroken arm. She tried to pull her out, but the girl simply flopped out, a shard of glass speared through her heart.
Seren fell back on the ground in shock. Her spine burned on the hot ground, but she lay frozen as the coach engine split open. The scrambling children were doused in petrol as they tried to climb out of the window. The heat met the petrol, and the coach exploded, taking the children with it.
The hole split further, tearing the street apart. Seren started crying; this had to be a bad dream…
The last thing she saw before she fell into the depths of the ground was a caped man, cold even though he was surrounded by fire.
*
Am I…dead? Thought Seren, as she lay motionless on the floor.
Surely, if you were alive you would be able to move your arms, replied the voice of reason inside her head.
She opened her eyes, and was surprised to find that she was not on the floor, but floating in the air. She looked right and left, and could only see darkness. Right, I’m definitely dead.
[You’re not dead, child.] replied a motherly voice from inside her head.
“W-where are you?” Seren blurted out, taken aback by the fact you could be floating in the air and hearing angel’s voices without being classified as dead. “Where am I?” she added, as an afterthought.
[You are with me.] said the voice, as if it was the stupidest question you could ask at a time like this. [And, I’m not an angel.]
“You can read my mind?” said Seren, dumbstruck.
[I can do many things.] the voice replied.
Seren just stared blankly into the abyss, wondering at this cryptic answer. “But I can’t even see you…” she muttered.
She gasped, as a huge whale-like bird appeared out of nowhere. It had silky feathers that flowed together, giving the impression that it had none at all. They were of the purest silver, and gave off a glow even in the darkness. There were blood red columns sprouting out of its back like wings, although they didn’t need to flap to keep the Pokemon suspended. Its arms and legs were almost humanlike, and seemed out of place, as did its rabbit-like ears. Its colossal head bore a shield shaped red mask, framed by its bright yellow eyes, which smiled at Seren from within her very soul.
Seren was seeing a legendary Pokemon in the flesh!
[You are safe in this cave, at least for a little longer.] said the Latias, a twinge of sorrow in her voice.
And no sooner had she said that, the darkness faded, and Seren was indeed floating in the middle of a damp cave. And then, she wasn’t floating.
Seren hit the floor hard, sharp stones cutting into her face and arms. All the pain suddenly returned and she could feel the blisters on her arms pop as she rolled onto her back.
She lay there for a moment, breathing heavily, blood trickling down her face. She craned her neck to see the cave roof, where the Latias was hovering, staring up through the hole at the fire that was now blazing through the city.
Seren’s heart was in her throat, as the Latias burst into a thousand balls of red light. These flew through the hole and into Honey Street, as Seren fell unconscious below.
Time stood still as the balls of light flew into the fire. It stopped flickering and vanished. More light balls flew into the rubble, and it formed back into houses. Gaining speed, the lights went to work, regenerating the street and rewinding time. Tiles flew back into place, a lamppost sprang up from a pile of melted iron, and the crack in the ground sealed, as the last few balls of light vanished.
The street restored and time restarted, although there was no bringing back the dead, who appeared in houses with no explanation for them being there. A woman came into the kitchen to find her husband dead, his skin burnt off his bones, and for some reason, her arm was covered in blisters. Screams rang out, and the Police Station was flooded with calls.
Far below the chaos, a single glowing light appeared in the darkness, and a voice floated on the air.
[It’s your turn now.]
*
A man walked silently through the street, invisible to the eyes of passers by. His cape blew in the wind, and his hat was cocked, covering the bright blue runes that now dissolved from his forehead. He fell to the ground, just another corpse, as a beam of red light broke through his chest and shot through the sky.
;380;
So, tell me what you think, leave questions, make corrections and then wait for the next installation.
EDIT: I've seen your corrections, there's quite a collection.
I've fixed the grammar with my mighty writing hammer. *squee*
Yes, I am a bit nuts. ~Soleni
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