Hiyoo, it's Missy, back with another craptastic original story!
So I've been in the IZ fandom since March, but I haven't written anything for him on his own. Shame really.
Missyclaimer: Invader Zim belongs to Jhonen Vasquez, I'm just stuffing them in a sack and shaking them out into this story. The song is © of The Prince of Egypt.
Ink flew over paper from a pointy tube, plucking images from Dib's head-meats of imagination and onto the yellowing piece of paper in front of him. The bright sun outside was making his head throb with the brightness. He was extremely tired, having spent almost a whole night spying on Zim from his computer. It hadn't even been worth it, all the alien did was make adjustments to his PAK and scream at GIR. Dib kind of felt sorry for the derpy robot, for reasons unknown. Even though the piece of trash-literally- got yelled at almost all the time he felt a little connection with him. Blargh, feelings.
Dib let his gaze stray from his paper to the right, where the said Scream Champion was sitting in almost the same position he was. Hand supporting green chin, contacted eyes scanning the alphabet above the blackboard absent-mindedly. His gloved finger was scratching something into the wood of the desk, but Dib was too far away to see it. Zim's expression was one of deep annoyance: something was bothering him. Dib glared at the self-proclaimed Invader, before being yanked out of his thoughts by an ancient, hoarse voice.
"Dib! Stop daydreaming and pay attention. Your creative brainwaves are a danger to the cold, dead dystopian society."
Dib snapped his brown eyes from the other side of the classroom to Ms Bitters' sour, sallow face. Her moustache blew slightly in the small breeze coming from the window, and made shivers run down Dib's spine. He forced himself to answer her, not to provoke but to divert her attention from him. "Yes, ma'am. Sorry, ma'am." He didn't bother pointing out that Zim was doing the exact same thing.
"You should be." She turned her head away from him, and Dib could've sworn he heard a 'creak' as she moved her cobra stare to the rest of the class. "Now, would someone like to tell me the name of the..." she looked down at the textbook she held in her hands. "The... the most... uh... the most famous English king in the fifteenth century?" Yeah, that ought to stump them.
An unnamed student put his hand up. "You." Said Ms Bitters.
"Uh, Miss," said the boy, glasses almost falling off his nose and large buck teeth gleaming with silver braces. "I think it was... King... King Kong."
Dib fought the urge to facepalm, or even flip a desk. These were supposed to be his peers?
Ms Bitters stared at the unnamed kid for a second. "Has anybody got any legitimate answers?"
Just then, the school bell rang and the students got out of their seats and collected their bags. Dib pulled his backpack over his shoulder and yawned. This was only the second period, he'd have to survive another four, at least. Unless the world decided to end right now. Zim wouldn't be happy about that. Or would he?
Speaking of moronic green aliens, this one had just pushed past Dib, his shoulder knocking Dib's. He didn't apologize, but Dib didn't give this a second thought, he only rolled his eyes. Zim snarled over his shoulder, "Watch where you're putting your fleshy coat-hangers, Dib-stink." And turned the corner, out of the paranormal investigator's sight. Dib just shook his head and left the classroom, digging around in his pocket for his schedule. He had... Drama next. With Mr Elliot. Wonderful.
Dib didn't mind Drama, to be honest. It was just his overly enthusiastic teacher he found annoying. Mr Elliot was Gaz's teacher, and she never complained. Maybe because she hardly played attention in class, she was either playing her GameSlave or drawing Vampire Piggies. But Dib only ever had two teachers for different subjects, the coach for Gym and Mr Elliot for Drama. The rest of the time he had Ms Bitters. And wasn't that just an excitement filled lollipop triple dipped in fun-fun-fun?
Dib trudged along the hall, manoeuvring around the other students and dodging around outstretched feet that appeared as he showed his face. Sneers and whispers behind hands made themselves known, but Dib ignored them. He heard some jock-hole shout something inconceivable behind him, but he just turned the corner and came to his locker. He put his books away and shrugged his backpack higher up his shoulder.
Dib opened the door to the auditorium, and the smell of must and cleaning chemicals hit his nose before anything else. He cringed at the smell, but carried on walking anyhow. A couple more students were here, Zita and Old Kid being the only two Dib really recognized. He dumped his rucksack on a nearby chair and sat down.
"Good morning, Dib! How're you doing on this beautiful, sunshiny morning?" Asked a passing Mr Elliot. In his arms were piles of paper, probably scripts for today's lesson. Dib gave a weak smile in response. Mr Elliott's grin widened-how, Dib knew not- and his head tilted to the side. "Wonderful!" And with that, he skipped off to prepare the coming lesson. Dib bent down and rifled around in his bag, pulling out a book titled "Imagica" and opened it to where he'd left off.
About five minutes later, Dib looked up and saw that a lot more people had come into the lesson. He put his book away and stood up, making his way to the front of the room, just in front of the stage. His journey was disturbed, however, by something knocking hard into his shoulder and making him stumble to the side.
Zim had just shoved past Dib, somewhat more annoyed than what he had been one lesson prior. His gloved hands were balled into fists and his strides were long and purposeful. Dib doubted he'd ever seen the Irken this...uh... irked.
"Is everyone here? Zim, Dib, come sit down... great!" Mr Elliot pulled out the roll and began to reel off names. Dib sat in the chair behind Zim and stared daggers into the back of his green head. Suddenly, he leaned forward and murmured into Zim's nonexistent ear.
"What's wrong, Zim? Evil robot dog thingy make it rain in your secret lab again? Y'know, the one you have because you're an alien?"
"Leave it, stink-meat." Growled Zim, not turning around.
"One day, Zim. One day you'll be exposed. I don't know when, or how, but it'll happen. And when it does you'll be sorry for ever crossing the path of the human race. Even if they are stupid schmucks."
"I said, leave it." Zim's voice rose, he was evidently angry. Mr Elliot raised his eyes to the two, but didn't intervene. He finished the roll call and smiled gaily at the students in front of him. "Well, good morning class! How are you all today?" Nobody answered, but Mr Elliot barely noticed. "Splendid! Now, I think it's time we began today's lesson." He picked up the pile of paper and began to move around the class, handing each student a single sheet of paper. When Dib received his, he read it through.
"The Prince of Egypt?" He said, confused. What happened to Shakespeare? They had been doing Shakespeare last lesson, hadn't they?
"Yes Dib, I told you. We did an essay on the rivalry between Moses and Rameses, and I said we'd be going through a couple of the songs this week. Why, don't you like The Prince of Egypt?"
"No, it's not that, it's just-"
"Great! Now, today we'll be focusing on a musical number featured in the movie, titled, Plagues. It shows the beginning of the Rapture, when the Lord punished Pharaoh Rameses in a bid to persuade him to let Moses' people go. I will need some backing singers for the secondary part of the song. Let's see..." Mr Elliot scanned the room. "Zita? Old Kid? Torque? Larry? Come and sit here with your scripts. That's right. Right there. Okay, Todd, Zee, Mary, Pepito, over here, and then the rest of that row on this row of chairs, please. Wonderful! Okay, now, read through your scripts, while I sort out the lead two roles."
"Plagues is a very powerful song, and requires someone with quite a strong voice for each part. Would anyone like to volunteer for the part of Moses?"
Mr Elliot looked around the room. "Ah, Dib! Yes, you'll do nicely!"
Dib looked up. "Huh?"
"Come on up, Dib, take your script." Said Mr Elliot, smile positively plastered on his face. "But I didn't even volunteer myself..." began Dib, confused.
And somewhere in the world, a bespectacled British teen laughs evilly behind her computer monitor.
"Come on, we haven't got all day, silly!" Mr Elliott said. So Dib was forced to stand up and trudge to the front of the room, up the steps leading to the stage and into the brightness of the spotlights directly pointing at him. He looked down at the piece of slightly crumpled paper and read through the lyrics.
"Alrighty then, lastly, we will need someone to play Rameses! Anyone like to..." The teacher's eyes rested on the only person-though that is debatable- left sitting in his line of vision: Zim. The Invader wasn't looking at Mr Elliott, he was reading his script with a mixture of boredom and annoyance on his green face. Mr Elliott smiled-dear God, man, stahp!- and clapped his hands together. "Zim! Yes, perfect!"
"What?" Said Dib, in shock. "Sir, you can't seriously be considering having Zim play Rameses...?"
"Zim is perfect for the role! He can project his voice, he's bold and strong willed, and I've seen how you two play-fight all the time. Moses and Rameses develop a rivalry, and I need two people who have that same thing going on. Zim, come on up!"
Without uttering a word, Zim stood up and marched to the stage, his legs unbending and military worthy. He climbed up to the stage and faced the non-existent audience. Even though Dib couldn't see it, he knew Zim was smirking.
"Okay then. I think you remember how the song goes. Or you should, we practiced a couple of times last week."
"We did?" Dib murmured. He really needed to start paying attention in class.
"Now, take your places. Zim, move a little to the left, no, your left... Yes, there. Okay, backing singers, be ready to come straight into the song. You are the ambiance."
Mr Elliot produced a stereo from the great stereo producing cloud in the sky and pressed play. The intro music started, and a couple of kids shifted in preparation for what was to come. They took a deep breath, and the sequence began.
Thus saith the Lord:
Since you refuse to free my people
All through the land of Egypt...
I send a pestilence and plague
Into your house, into your bed
Into your streams, into your streets
Into your drink, into your bread
Upon your cattle, on your sheep
Upon your oxen in your field
Into your dreams, into your sleep
Until you break, until you yield
I send the swarm, I send the horde
Thus saith the Lord
Dib breathed in, and began his part.
Once I called you brother
Once I thought the chance to make you laugh
Was all I ever wanted...
The ambiance kids/ backing singers belted out the next verse.
I send the thunder from the sky
I send the fire raining down
Dib: And even now I wish that God
Had chose another
Serving as your foe on his behalf
Is the last thing that I wanted...
Kids: I send a hail of burning ice
On ev'ry field, on ev'ry town
Dib began to feel the lyrics, the music was loud in his ears and turned his heartbeat into a slow, smooth, dangerous rhythm. He looked straight at Zim, not letting his glare move away from the alien. Zim was looking equally menacing.
Dib: This was my home
All this pain and devastation
How it tortures me inside
All the innocent who suffer
From your stubbornness and pride!
Kids: I send the locusts on a wind
Such as the world has never seen
On ev'ry leaf, on ev'ry stalk
Until there's nothing left of green
I send my scourge, I send my sword
Thus saith the Lord!
Dib: You who I called brother
Why must you call down another blow?
Kids: I send my scourge, I send my sword
Dib lifted an arm and pointed at Zim, anger bubbling up inside him.
Let my people go!
Thus saith the Lord
Nobody expected what happened next to happen.
Zim's temper had been slowly rising throughout Dib's little performance, and now he looked ready to kill. Before his part was due, Zim crumpled up the piece of paper in his gloved hand and threw it to the side. Dib raised his eyebrows in confusion. Zim took three large steps toward Dib, his eyes bearing a malicious, wild, murderous glare. Even Mr Elliot, who was seated a good way away from the stage couldn't miss if. Before Dib could ask for the scene to be called off, Zim began his part of the duet.
You who I called brother
How could you have come to hate me so?
Is this what you wanted?
None of the kids had noticed the hullabaloo going on onstage, and so sung their part without fail.
I send the swarm, I send thehorde...
Dib shivered, the atmosphere emanating from Zim was just ice cold, perhaps colder.
Then let my heart be hardened
And never mind how high the cost may grow
Zim looked like he was morphing. He was becoming taller, his wig and contacts fell off to reveal the terrifying alien form beneath. His teeth became sharper, his claws too, the alien looked positively demonic. Dib backed away, absolutely shellshocked.
This will still be so:
A wind had risen. Leaves blew about, the sky turned black, fire erupted around the alien... Zim's Grim Reaper stare cut right through Dib. Dib was shaking. And now, it was Zim's turn to point. His clawed finger almost went through Dib's frontal lobe, he backed away even more. Zim's face was so far away, but it felt two inches away from his own.
I will never let your people go!
The students sang.
Thus saith the Lord:
I will not...
Zim straightened up, still staring daggers, blades, knives, katanas and samurai swords at Dib. It was so hypnotizing, Dib almost forgot to sing the last verse.
Zim, Dib, Students: ...Let your
(my) people...
Go!
The music ended. The students in front of the stage all breathed in relief, some sweating. A couple began to talk, before Mr Elliot quietened them down. He was pale, looking at both Zim and Dib, awestruck.
"Well, class, t-that was..." he stuttered. "That was certainly... certainly, uh, powerful. You were just... magnificent."
Dib turned his gaze from Mr Elliot to Zim. The alien was... normal. No extended legs, no sharp as a suitcase full of knives teeth, no black sky. His disguise was still on, wig and all. All that was left was the murderous stare that would be sure to haunt Dib's nightmares for years to come.
Dib then found himself to be on the edge of the stage, and moved away shakily. Zim kept his gaze locked on Dib's, and Dib swore he could see the crimson red of Sun's real eyes behind the contacts.
It was just then that the end of period three bell rang. Students got out of their seats and collected their bags, chatting animatedly about kid stuff. That kid with the two horn looking bumps on his head and weird hair glanced Zim's way, but was interrupted by the child with the huge eyes.
Zim stormed off stage and pushed past everyone else in a bid to get to the exit. Dib was just left standing on stage. He looked down at his hands, they were shaking uncontrollably.
"Come along, Dib, you'll be, uh, y-you'll be late." Mr Elliot gathered up a box and his satchel and made his way to the door. By the time he was outside the auditorium, Dib was already unconscious.
So? Whaddaya think? Good, bad?
It's my first official Zim fic, I do have others but either I never finished them or don't intend for anyone to see them. No, none of them are smutty or lemon worthy (surprisingly), they're just so brain meltingly stupid that you'll spontaneously combust if you read them.
This will not be my last IZ fic. I love the show and will definitely write more for it and JtHM. Only thing is I find JtHM easier to write. So... yeah.
Hope you didn't explode when reading this! I'll see you filthy h-yooman worm babies later!
Bye!