Hello Heroes fans! How are you? Personally, I'm totally swamped. Summer is almost over, and I have 300 more pages of "Grapes of Wrath" to go through. In SIX DAYS!!!! (sob)
I really need to prioritize.
Anyway, I had this file sitting in my computer, and I really do like it, so I wanted to share it with ya'll. I know crossovers are kinda cheesy and stuff, but watching a video on youtube about three dozen times does this kinda thing to a girl.
My mommy's home from work!!!
Well, I'll go back to my procrastination and showtunes. Enjoy the story!
ac-the-brain-supreme does not own Heroes, SailorMoon, or much of anything.
The night sky was clear and the air was crisp and warm. The moon shone full and with as much silvery, romantic light as it could. Stars glittered overhead, envying the moon's light and vying for the attention of those below on the green and blue planet. In a field in the middle of nowhere, where tall and wild grasses grew, a young man set up a range of important- and expensive-looking recording equipment. All were pointed to the dark, expansive sky. Those mechanical eyes were joining the natural ones thousands of miles away that were anticipating the fantastic meteor shower that will be starting any moment.
The man who had set up the equipment sat down and leaned back in a camping chair. He picked up a black case and opened it, taking out his most prized possession: a laptop connected to all the things surrounding him. The man, an astrologist, opened the top of the laptop and opened all the programs that ran and monitored the devices. The man looked back up to the sky. He felt something akin to adrenaline flow freely and quickly through his blood stream. The man stood up, put the laptop in the seat of the chair, and began to pace.
This was the first massive meteor shower in a long time and the first the astrologist would ever experience out of college. Naturally, he was excited. Naturally, he was counting down the seconds until the first meteor shot through the atmosphere; a burning ball of space rock, iron, and gasses that all turn to cinders at first contact with the protective forcefields that have surrounded the Earth since she had first cooled from a planet of newly formed lava and hot rock to a planet that would soon become the only inhabitable place in the galaxy.
The astrologist almost missed the first meteor, caught up in his thoughts. The man moved. He ran to the video camera, made sure it was on and truly pointed upwards. It was. He checked the seismograph, which would sense any extraterrestrial body that struck the Earth in this certain area. Measures, picks, a digital camera, gloves, sample bags. He had everything set up, connected, or on his person. Now, all he had to do was sit back, relax, and check every so often to ensure the working status of his instruments.
So he sat there, staring and enjoying. It wasn't until very early in the morning, when the astrologist was sure that the meteor shower was over and he was packing up the equipment, that it came. It was a strange sight. Light blue, standing out from the red-tailed meteors from before. And it was falling at a different direction. It had stopped the astrologist who, like the scientist he was, stared at it in curiosity, wondering what whould make it so different. A blue tail? It must be burning hotter. More flammable gasses stores in the pitty holes that covered it. The odd angle of falling, against the direction the others? It must have been from a different shower. The scientist stared at it, seeing it get larger and larger. Growing larger? Why would it be getting larger? Wouldn't it become more elongated?
"Oh shit" the astrologist whispered. He fell to the ground and covered his head. He could feel the rush of hot air and smoke as the rock passed not far above him. He thought he could smell the sickening odor of burning hair. The astrologist touched his head, making sure that there was no burning hair. That's when the ground shook and a sound that could only be likened to a bomb was heard, no doubt for miles around. The astrologist lifted his head. He got to his knees and reached into the tent he had set up not long before. A tent he was glad to notice did not catch fire. He pulled out a black bag and slung it over his shoulder. As he stood, the astrologist looked over into the distance. Not far, only around ten feet away, there was something not like the other rocks that fell that evening.
The astrologist approached it at a speedy pace, getting to it quicly. The rock-like thing had transparent tendrils of delicate smoke rising from it. The rock-like thing itself was a transparent blue, showing distorted images of what was on the ground. It was just above half the size of the astrologer's height and twice his width. After taking out a measure, the astrologist discovered it to be three feet long, three feet in diameter, and three and a half feet in width. The astrologist took out a recorder and pressed the button, holding it up to his scruffy face.
"A strange object was discovered after said object fell from the night sky at," he checked his watch, "three thirty-five A.M. on Thursday the fifth of September, year two thousand and four. Object was first seen in night sky, falling in the general north, north-easterly direction, landing approximately ten feet from camp. Object is of extreme temperatures, a transparent light blue color, and three feet in diameter and height and three and a half feet in width."
The astrologist pulled out some gloves and put them on. He licked his lips before putting the tape recorder up to his mouth again, this time a pick taking residency in his other hand. "Object is a hard material, not easily scratched by metal objects." The astrologist's eyebrows drew together. He looked at the tip of the metal poker he held. He put the metal object in a little baggie. "Object seems to be covered in a powder." The astrologist gently blew on the thing. Dust flew free from the rock it was attached to, floating lazily around the man before settling on the ground. The astrologist could see more of the rock. He turned the recorder on again. "The powdery substance appears to be what gives the object it's blue color. Underneath..." The astrologist took out a dust rag and touched the rock with it. More dust fell and the astrologist could see the rock more clearly. "Underneath, the object is perfectly clear."
The astrologist wiped more dust off, putting each of the towels or whatever touched the rock in another sample bag. It was soon becoming evident to the man that there was something inside the rock. His heart began pounding. Loudly and quickly. The astrologist kept wiping away the blue dust, eager and afraid of what he might find. His jaw was locked in the closed position, but still he could feel his teeth moving against each other. Slowly, he could make up what was in the rock. With a shaking hand, the astrologist picked up his recorder. "There...appears to be...a...body. A...A skeleton in the object." The man leaned a little closer. "S-Skeleton retains some of it's...living...features. Features such as it's hair, which appears white, and it's clothing, which appears to be a dress...resembling the European fashion during the first World War."
The astrologist turned off the recorder again. He reached behind him, looking for the black bag he had brought. When his hands touched nothing, the man turned around completely to open and search the bag. The black bag wasn't very big, but it was easy to loose things in there. After a few seconds of digging, the astrologist whispered, "I can never find what I need in here."
There was a noise, almost like a response to what he had said. The man's bones chilled and his muscles tensed. Slowly, his head turned to the rock with the skeleton in it. Nothing had changed. The skeleton hadn't moved, the rock or anything around it hadn't cracked. The man looked to the sky. "Wind," he whispered. He turned back to the bag. "Wind, wind, wind, wind, wind, wind, wind," he repeated over and over again like a desperate broken record. The word calmed him, enough so that he could look through the bag without his hands shaking as much as they had before. It only took a few more minutes before the man found the camera he had been looking for. He pulled it out and held it in his hands.
That's when he heard the cracking.
The man didn't want to turn around to face the rock. He only needed to hear the ear-splitting and the tiny muffled cracking noises. Still, even with his fear, the man turned around to see the clear rock crack open like an egg, slowly chipping apart thanks to the freeing veins that stretched from the original breaking point to all over the rock. Then, the cracking stopped. The man sat still, eyes wide and almost popping out of his head. Everything was silent. No birds were chirping. There were no cars or people around to talk or beep. The bugs who made this area home had moved as fast as they could away from the meteor. Right now, it was just the astrologer and the rock.
With a gush of air and a slow hissing, a bony hand shot up, breaking the rock and flexing its stiff, long-underused joints. The man fell back, dropping the camera and screaming. He lay on the ground, staring at the rock as the arm broke through more of the rock, pieces of it becoming stuck in the bone and dead, peeling skin. The arm fell back into the rock. The man stopped breathing for a moment. There was no movement from either the man or the skeleton. The man moved his legs forward, then his arms, shifting his body forward, closer to the rock. He continued doing this, making up reasons for the skeleton's apparent movement. The pressure in the rock? The force it hit the ground? He didn't wonder about why there would be a skeleton in a meteor in the first place. That was something that couldn't be easily answered and should therefore be avoided like a plague.
Finally, the man was at the rock. He kneeled by it, stilling after shifting his body. Nothing happened. He leaned forward, pushing his head over the hole, getting a better look at the corpse inside.
In almost no time, there was an incredible amount of pressure and pain on the man's neck. He pulled back, but the skeletal hand that had broken through the rock was too strong for him to pull away from. The man coughed and sputtered as air quickly became fleeting. He clawed at the hand, but succeeded at doing nothing other than pulling off more of the decaying skin. Slowly, the corpse that had been in the rock sat up. It was eyeless, sockets revealing the darkness inside its skull. A tiny amount of skin remained around the mouth and at the top of the skull where the dried, broken hair sat limply against the bone skull. Lengths of leathery skin were taut over the cheeks and there was some hanging free from the chin, connection to a small piece that used to be attached to the neck and the breast bone, but was now only hanging on by the breast bone and the chin.
The man pushed on the hand more forcefully. He tried to move his neck around, but to no avail. The corpse just held onto him tighter. The corpse gave him a shake, and the man decided that he had no other choice but to look at the thing that had him captured. His eyes focused on the sockets of the thing in front of him. It's mouth opened. The man's eyes widened.
The landscape twisted, morphed, in a fit of vertigo. Suddenly, the man wasn't being grasped by the neck. He wasn't in the field either. Or possibly even in his home country. Instead, he was in the middle of a blacked world. Fires raged around him as bloody bodies piled one on top of the other made the sea of death grow around him. The sky had no sun or moon or stars; they had all been blacked out by dark, angry smoke clouds. There was no noise, but he only needed to see the raised swords and the dying men and women to know that, if he had the ability to hear, his ears would be bombarded with chain mail against armor, swords against swords or shields or flesh and bone, the screams of war and the final, painful shrieks of fearful death. The man look to the side, witnessing the bloody death of a person caught in a land mine, sacrificing theirself for the beauty who was now lying on the ground, in a pool of blood. The man couldn't tell if it was their own or someone else's.
The man felt like he was jerked and suddenly he saw the beauty from before, standing straight and proud before falling to their knees. He could feel a rush of air as people dressed similarly to the one who blew up--but instead of red skirt and bow, these two had either a green skirt and bow or a blue--run past him to the one who had fallen, turning the person over to reveal the fatal wound to the abdomen. The man felt like vomitting when he witnessed the soft, slick intestines and other blood-drenched organs fall out of the body. The man turned around, hoping to escape the blood and the sorrow, only to meet the devastated face of another one of the people dressed alike. They stood there, eyes disbelieving, crying; arms limp against their sides, a curving sword with a hole near the hilt lying against their calf. The person fell to their knees, head downcast and the aura of pure defeat surrounding them.
The man was tugged again. This trip was longer, and became increasingly darker. Away from the imagined heat and the reds and yellows and blacks that had caused such illusions of temperature. Now he was traveling through mostly black, a cool and empty feeling surrounding his body as he traveled from the battle to a place more peaceful, more beautiful than where he had been before. Now, the man was standing in a place that looked built from marble. There were five tables, each one holding a dead body. The man's eyes widened. One the tables were the disembowled beauty, the remains of the person who had blown up, the one in green with blackened skin, the one in blue with their head seperated from their body, and the sorrowful one with a jagged hole through their chest.
This time, he could hear speaking. "Your Highness, we can not win this war." The man turned to see who was speaking. Two women, one in a white dress, holding a pink wand with a golden cresent moon and a striking resemblance to the beauty, and another one with white hair and blue clothing, not unlike the dress the corpse had been wearing.
"I understand that." The one in white said that. "Which is why...I have to do this. Because...because if can not win, we might as well make sure they loose."
The woman in blue questioned the other about what she meant. The lady in white just turned to her and smiled, a few tears falling down her face. The woman in blue had a look of terror on her face. She held onto the woman in white, begging her not to do this. The woman in white placed her hand on her companion's. "It is something I must do, to make up for the deaths that I have caused to those who lived on Earth," the woman turned to the five tables, "and to those who lived in my heart."
The next thing the man saw was bright light. Bright, beautiful, blinding light. And he didn't feel afraid when he saw the light. He didn't feel cold or empty or surrounded or hot. He didn't feel the others' sorrow or pain or anger or hatred or fear. He didn't feel anything. It was like his body was numb.
The light faded.
He opened his eyes.
He felt the dirt on the ground and the grass that tickled his arms. He felt wind blow through his hair and over his prone body. He sat up. It was day. The sun was shining high and the clouds were light, fluffy, and almost non-existant. The man looked to his side, where the rock had been.
Had been.
Now, there was only a wooden box. An old, wooden box with a clasp keeping the lid down. The man picked up the box and opened it. Inside, there were four wands, a green, a blue, a red, and an orange, and a compact with a crescent moon on the lid. The man closed the lid and re-did the clasp. He looked up to the sky. Deep in his mind, at the base of his skull, the man felt a tingling. With a soft whisper of wind on his ear, the man heard the message the corpse had waited so long to tell someone.
"See and know."
The man sighed. He ran a hand up his face, through his curly hair. "I knew I should've gone into genetics" he whispered solemnly.
I WANNA SEE "A CHORUS LINE"!!!!!
(sniffle)
Anyway, please review. I posted this on LJ and no one really responded to it, so just tell me if it's crap or not. I'll just write it for my ex.
Later!