The Lion's Cage
Prologue
The unforgiving sound of thunder roared in the Rockies' sky. It was past mid night; which means all kinds of criminals and underground figures were out to disturb the peace of this quiet mountain town and its residents while the police sit in their comfy headquarters eating donuts and chatting about their favorite sport teams… The officers were not entirely oblivious to the criminal activities going on right under their noses; they just didn't want to risk their precious little lives, didn't want to sacrifice, didn't even want to take an effort to move. Sad as the prospect of human nature is, the rain seemed to have gotten heavier. Is that all God is going to do? Making the sky cry for this hopeless species that He had so proudly created (or so the said species thought)? But the heavy rain water that was threatening to flood the streets doesn't stop those who are out to rob, steal, kill and…
A certain twitchy blond stayed under his blanket, trembling uncontrollably. He wished someone could be here, just to provide company and comfort. But he knew no one would – he had no friends. His parents wouldn't go through the trouble to take care of their paranoid son neither… The most they ever do is make extra coffee for him in the kitchen, believing that the heavily caffeinated drink would calm him down. He sobbed miserably, due to his paranoid fear and his pathetic self. What else could he have done?
He shut his eyes tightly, wishing to stop the heedless tears that were streaming down his cheeks. He didn't want to be pathetic; he wished he could be strong, like, like him, yes, his hero. The twitchy blond wondered where he could be now. Could he be out there in the heavy rain, fighting criminals and protecting everyone's lives and happiness? He admired his bravery, his selfless actions… But behind the mask, there were no emotions; the masked hero was cold, his eyes almost lifeless…
But he probably wouldn't even remember this twitchy kid that he once saved in the alley… He saves so many people everyday, why would he even remember?
Suddenly a loud thud was heard from the window, making the blond to jump with a little scream. Could that be a robber? Or the serial killer that had been on the news lately? His heartbeat accelerated, almost bringing him on the verge of a heart attack. He didn't dare to peek, what if it's really the killer?
Whoever was outside the window knocked again, a deep male voice moaning out his name in what seemed like agony,
"Tweek… please, open the window…"
It sounded familiar. Tweek finally decided to take a look, after all, the voice had sounded so sincere, so in need of help… Tweek got up, and the moment his blanket fell on the floor, he saw it. The masked hero, covered in blood, his bloody handprint on the glass, rain unforgivingly hitting his injuries… Another lightning made the whole bloody image clearer to Tweek, and it was imprinted in his mind, forever. He had wanted to scream, he didn't want to look, but he also couldn't tear his eyes away. He stared at his hero who was deep in agonizing pain, his head hung low, the glimmer in his eyes glowed dim… Tweek was afraid; he wanted to help, but how could a spazz like him help the great Mysterion? What if he accidentally tripped and knock him out of the window? What if –
"Tweek, please…" He groaned again, this time with a hint of urgency.
Tweek jumped out of his bed, did as the dark, mysterious figure had ordered, helping him to get in his bedroom through the window. He was dripping wet, his cape soaked along with all the other garments that were clinging onto his body. Tweek turned on his bedside lamp, the warm light flooding his room, allowing him to see some of the major wounds. He helped him to sit down on the floor, leaning back on the side of his bed.
"Tweek…" He muttered again.
"How- how do you know my n-name?"
"Get me some clean sheets and your first-aid kit." He ordered, ignoring the question that hung in mid air.
Tweek did as he was told, his mind in a total panic. What should he do? Call the police? Wake up his parents? No. Mysterion wouldn't want his identity revealed… But why did he come to him for help in the first place?
First-aid kit… where is it? Tweek panicked, what if Mysterion died before he gets back? Tweek shoved bottles of pills aside and found the box with a red cross on it. He quickly grabbed it with his shivering hands… Ngh- stop panicking!
Tweek ran back to his room, holding the box tightly in his hands. Questions running through his mind, but he was too nervous to put them in sensible words.
Mysterion was still sitting on the floor as Tweek stepped back inside his own room, but his head hung low… Tweek's heart sank low, could he be dead?
"Mysterion?"
Tweek walked closer, kneeling down beside the dark figure, whose breathing was slightly audible. Tweek sighed in relieve. He put down the box he was holding on for life and leaned closer.
"Tweek, take off my mask."
"But-"
"Just do it."
Trembling hands slowly reached up to remove the blood stained black mask. The moment of truth - Who is the masked hero? Why would he come to him for help?
The mask dropped, and Tweek gasped.
A/N: Sorry, I know I should be updating my other stories, but this one had been in my mind for a long time and I really want to publish it.
Should I make this multi-chap? You guys know I don't update fast, so...
yeah.
Please review=]