Chris the hedgehog: hello ladies and gentlemen, welcome to my story, where there are thrills chills and twist crazy enough for you to need a spinal tap, figuratively speaking of course. But business before pleasure, none of the sonic characters belong to me nor do the places in which where created by the Sega team. But me, I'm all original. also there are a few others that will pop up that don't belong to Sega what so let's begin shall we. Oh and one more things sorry for not mentioning this earlier, this is my very first work so i would like some feed back letting me know what you liked and what you didn't to help further the story in the right way. now we begin.

there was a...


Chapter 1: a rude awakening.


A terrible storm is ravaging the ground below. Oak trees being ripped apart and forced into the ground at all angles, red lightning is shooting from the sky hitting the ground creating trenches, the rain pelting the ground with enough force to penetrate skin. Within the midst if the storm there lays a hedgehog, unconscious, unknowing of nature's wrath around him, but none of it is touching him. Under him there is an indent indicating that he has been there for some time, days, months, years even. Covered in dirt grim mud, and dust of idleness, but he isn't dead. He is well alive. His subconscious is well alive. That is where he is living, in the world he created who knows how long ago.


Inside Chris' head:

Chris is laying in his bed while the sun rises in the horizon, everything seems tranquil until his eyes shoot open and he says to himself "something isn't right" he uses his hands to flip frontwards out of his bed. As soon as his head left the pillow the pillow was sliced in two. To anyone except a few it would have been silent but to Chris it was as loud as a flock of birds flying by his face.

There he stood at the foot of his bed. A black hedgehog with a wide white stripe on his forehead, one on each of his arms and legs leading towards his center and on the tip of each quill and there are some long white quills covering his right eye. His eyes are a light gray.

He crossed his arms and closed his eyes and said "I am not impressed. If you're going to assassinate me at least be quieter." With this said he turned around facing the bed, lifted his right arm and pretended his was a gun. Then he flicked his thumb down on the side of his index finger and said "bang" in a sly voice and a minor smirk on his muzzle. Less than a second later the wall at the head of the bed was blown off almost completely. The only thing remaining was fractions of the wall connected to the ceiling and other walls. As the rubble of the wall hit the ground outside he noticed a charred figure dissipating as it made it's descent. He shrugged and at this and said "this only means trouble" with that he noticed a slight glimmer on the remaining fraction of the wall connected to the ceiling. He smiled and fluidly ducked under the slicing wind threatening to take his head off. He grabs the wind at the hilt and with one smooth move he twirls it around his fingers slicing the head and hands off of the assassin. "The smell of blood in the morning!" He said as he stood placing the transparent blade on his shoulder. Expecting the spray of blood to further mess up his room, but the only things seeping out of the body was black mist. "that's something new" he said to himself as he sees the black mist lingering over the floor almost like a carpet constantly shifting on its own. He raises his eye brow and extends his left hand towards the mist and says "that's cool, I'll take it" then the mist started to seep violently into Chris' hand. While he smiled bearing all teeth, the mist tried to seep away but the force was too strong. "Trying to get away? To bad, there is no escape." He said with a menacing glare and a sinister laugh. As the last of the mist seeped into his palm which he closed symbolizing the fact that is was now a permanent part of him, He shuttered as the feeling of the black mist sent chills up his spine, he then closed his other hand to make fist on both his sides, closed his eyes, inhaled, tensed his muscles, which made the room walls ripple as water would of someone threw a stone into it. He then exhaled, relaxed his muscles which made the ripples stop. Then he opened his eyes which is fogged over with a shade of black from the mist he absorbed, then he smiled.