Title: Book One of the Chosen of Shannara
Authors: DracoStarbo ( dracostarbo@yahoo.com ) and Lunablue ( deadredsocks@yahoo.com )
Disclaimer: The Shannara universe belongs to Terry Brooks and affiliated companies. Lyrics to ' Shady's Back ' belong to Eminem a.k.a Marshal Mathers and affiliated companies.
Ratings: Pg-13
Warnings: This story contains language and ideas that can be found offensive.
Authors Notes: Loved something? Hated something? Let us know, by reading and reviewing. Or flaming. Or sending hate mail. We do except all forms of MasterCard, Visa and stalkers are generally appreciated.
Chapter One: The Last Day of the Rest of Our Lives
* * * *
Memial waved with a lightly tan, mostly-sun burnt hand, a last goodbye to her father and turned to take in the first full look with her green eyes at the local prison, a.k.a. high school. The students hustled pass her like- water rolling over an embedded rock in the mud. Social cows being herded into small spaces of four walls and a cold, plastic seats . . . just to grow up and find themselves in an even smaller space and having a mid-live crisis. Oh the joys of education.
//Okay, a new day, a new start! Remember, you may think this is prison, but they don't give death-penalties, so enjoy your remaining time and remember, good grades means good jobs!// she thought to herself as she flipped her brown waist-length hair back and followed the herd of fellow students.
Inside the Gates of Hell, she takes a left to the small library that is just barely larger than a classroom. She waved to Mrs. Smith, the library and her friend, before scanning the room for people she knew. There, sitting at a computer with a look of half-fear, half annoyance, was one of her male friends, Ben. The look he had on him could be explained by the girl who sat next to him . . . just staring at him . . . .She looked ready to whip out a knife and go to town making a new form of tattoo art on his skin. But she just sat there, staring at him like he was the freak exhibit at Circus. Her blonde hair framed her pale face and her black clothing brought out the light blues of her eyes.
"Hey, Ben!" Memial went over and stood on the opposite side of where the girl was. "What's up?"
He pointed to the girl, said, "That girl is freaking me out!"
"Yeah, I noticed," Memial chuckled.
"I'm serious! She's been there for a half an hour now - I tried leaving, but she just followed me! Mrs. Smith tried to get her away, but she didn't even blink! Please, make her stop!" Ben said with a pleading tone to his voice, which Memial could later on say was on the borderline of begging.
"But, Ben, someone likes you. You should be happy," Memial smirked.
He became very serious. "This isn't funny."
"Nor is your Hawaiian shirt," some random guy mumbled as he passed by.
"Hey!" Ben shouted, but it was ignored.
Memial took a seat next to the strange girl, who actually turned her head to meet Memial's eye level. "Hey, I'm Memial. Why are you staring at my friend? Are you memorized by that thing he calls a shirt?"
"Hey! Is this Make Fun of Ben Day?" he whined.
"No, that's on Tuesday," the same random guy called from halfway across the room.
"That's it!" Ben stood up and stalked over to that guy and started to cuss him out until Mrs. Smith stopped him and threatened to throw him out of the library.
"Yeah, anyway," Memial turned her attention back to the girl in front of her. "What's your name?"
The girl just kept looking at Memial, as if she was going to repeat what she did with Ben. But Memial wasn't phased.
"Fine, don't tell me your name," Memial shrugged. "School is boring, isn't it? Sometimes, I don't want to get up at all . . . All right, *most* of the time. You know, that's a cool shirt; I like the red pattern on it."
Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!!!
//And the bell rings, time to go to our first cells and wait until we can have our few minutes in the training yard. Fun, fun, fun!// Memial thought despising, though her face didn't change that much. "I'll see you later."
And Memial gets up and waves goodbye to Mrs. Smith, promising to be in there for lunch, humming a choppy tune underneath her breathe. The girl who she was talking to sit at the computer table for a while, just sitting, and then got up to go to her first class of the day. A thing about school is that most of the people will be asleep twenty minutes in.
//And I'd be one of them, but I have a teacher to torture,// she thought darkly.
Across the campus and in a small room with no windows, but a piano and stadium seating, she sat in a red plastic chair, thinking over how she could annoy Mr. Robb, her piano teacher. She could do the usual stare, but she'd found that he seems to be growing immunity to it. Maybe if she purposely hit all the wrong keys in the test today. Or maybe . . .
"Two trail park girls go 'round the outside,
'Round the outside . . ."
A whisper from a nearby headphone set sends an idea to straight to her brain.
//It's perfect.// she smirked evil-like.
Mr. Robb came into the classroom shortly after and had everyone settle down.
His first announcement, a test is to be taken! Everyone moaned, but he tells everyone that they had a week's notice, so no one could really complain. People still did, though. In his fifties and gray hair, Mr. Robb paid no heed and called up the first student.
Amanda, the hyper-active, bright kid of the class was more than willing to play all the different keys they've learned so far and a musical piece of her choosing - something from Mozart - and got an A. Next up was Jason, who had forgotten to practice a song, so he played "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star" and got a C. Rich and Jesus were the next two. They played the same song, made the same mistakes, and got the same grade - B.
"Jez Richards," he called out.
Jez walked down to the piano and sat down gracefully. //Play this note. What does this mean? How long is an eighth note?// The questions flew by with Jez answering them quickly, a little anxious to get to the rehearsed song. Finally, the last question was answered and she placed her hands onto the keys. At home, for fun and practice, she had done a few of her favorite songs, so the notes weren't the trouble, though she needed to play the beginning a few times to get use to the sound of a piano playing the song.
"Obie Trice. Name No Gimmicks . . ." the boy with the headphones at the beginning of class mumbled, instantly recognizing that tune. The other kids started to get into the swing of it, too, and some sang the lyrics:
"Two trailer park girls go round the outside,
Round the outside, round the outside..
Guess who's back, back again
Shady's back, tell a friend
Guess who's back, guess who's back,
Guess who's back. Guess who's back . . .?
Mr. Robb looked around a little baffled, but thought it must be a popular song and nothing more of it.
"I created a monster, cuz nobody wants to
See Marshall no more they want Shady
I'm chopped liver
Well if you want Shady, then this is what I'll give ya
A little bit of me mixed with some hard liquor
Some vodka that will jumpstart my heart quicker
Then a shock when I get shocked at the hospital
By the Dr. when I'm not cooperating
When I'm rocking the table while he's operating "Hey"
You waited this long to stop debating
Cuz I'm back, I'm on the rag and ovulating
I know you got a job Ms. Cheney
But your husband's heart problem is complicated
So the FCC won't let me be
Or let me be me so let me see
They tried to shut me down on MTV
But it feels so empty without me
So come on and dip, bum on your lips
Jump back jiggle a hip and wiggle a bit
And get ready cuz this is about to get heavy
I just settled all my lawsuits, "Fuck you, Debbie!!"
And it was then that Mr. Robb realized the meaning of this song, or at lest what the lyrics said. He yelled at everybody to stop singing and for Jez to stop playing, but they paid him no heed. A bunch of guys and some girls got up and started dancing to the music.
"This looks like a job for me
So everybody just follow me
Cuz we need a little controversy
Cuz it feels so empty without me.
Now this looks like a job for me
So everybody ju-"
SLAM!! Jez barely got her fingers out of the way of the cover of the piano keys that Mr. Robb slammed down, with a death glare in his eyes.
"I said, that - is - enough!" he hissed between clenched teeth. "Sit down, Ms. Richards."
Jez got up and went back to her seat, knowing that he wanted her to act afraid, so the best thing to do was to not be - which was easy; she'd seen worse death glares before. The class around her was stunned into silence, but they couldn't help the small smirks spreading over their lips and the laughter lighting up their eyes.
"Am I interrupting something?" a Nark ( a.k.a yard duddy) from the doorway asked. He stood next to a girl with black hair to her upper shoulders, thick and shiny, and black eyes matching her hair perfectly. She looked like a full-blooded Asian, probably was. She was wearing blue jeans, a fluffy pink sweeter and white tennis shoes.
"No, not at all," Mr. Robb seemed perfectly calm. "Can I help you?"
"She was lost, so I helped her out finding your class," the Nark gestured to the small girl beside him.
"Are you a foreign exchange student?" Mr. Robb asked the girl.
"Oh, no. My family's Vietnamese, though. My name's Deidre Ting. I tried to get into this class at the beginning of the school year, but my academic coordinator screwed up my schedule. I've basically had to start from scratch. Which totally sucks, the starting from scratch if you know what I mean. But it shouldn't be to hard cause I'm really good at the starting from scratch stuff - especially at cooking things with raw materials. I'm really good at that. My cooking teacher used to say that all the time, right until I blew her kitchen up but then-"
"Take a seat," Mr. Robb ordered.
Deidre sat at the end of the row of seats, feeling embarrassed about her babbling. She just liked to talk, was that a crime? For the rest of the period, Mr. Robb ranted and raved about inappropriate behavior. At first, the students where paying attention, feeling guilty for getting out of hand. Then, after the third time he repeated himself, they started to shut down their minds, one by one. No one was worth hearing a scorning from more than twice. The clock ticked away the seconds and finally that hellish sounding, buzzing bell rang and everyone filed out, talking idly about anything other than school.
However, instead of leaving class with the rest of her peers, Deidre timidly walked up to Robb and asked, "Mr. Robb, um, what do I need to pass this class?"
"You, a miracle."
"Um, ok. Tha-?"
"Seeing as you have joined this class so late, you will need a tutor." With a flip through his grade book and a growl that made Deidre take a cautious, step of self-survival backwards he snarled, "Ms. Richards (God have mercy on her soul) would be the best for the job. She's the crazy blonde chick that was playing that god forsaken devil song earlier. It shouldn't be too hard for you to find her. Just follow the trail of destruction and chaos." Mr. Robb than proceeds to hand Deidre some worksheets and information papers before sweeping out of the room leaving her standing there more than slightly confused . . . and scared. With a shake of her head, she stuffs the papers into her backpack and runs off to meet her good male friend Aiken.
Walking through the library doors she spots Aiken sitting at a table with a brunette, a blonde and a pink eraser. The blonde, the brunette and even the pink eraser seemed to be glaring evilly at the slightly nervous sandy brown haired boy.
"Deidre, save me!!!" Aiken winced at the undercurrent of undiluted terror in his voice.
The brunette yells, before bursting into hysterical laughter, "No one can save YOU!!!"
Deidre blinks. This day just seemed to be getting weirder and weirder.
Aiken started to scoot his chair backwards, towards the protection of Deirdre's presence. "These guys," a pause and dramatic effected added to his voice, "Are CRAZY!"
This comment only got the already laughing girl to laugh even harder, if that is possible. Deidre just stared confusingly and sat down. "Um, okay, what's happening here?"
"Just the usual. You know, torture, causing of mental anguish, the installment of eternal fear into one's soul."
"That's not nice!" Deidre couldn't help the burst of justice from her lips.
"Oh, come on, we're just foolin' around," the brunette managed between fits of giggles. "Right?" Jez remained silent, causing the brunette to stop laughing. "Um? Right!?"
Jez turned her upper body to face the girl sitting next to her, and with a look of scorn and sarcasm dripping from her eyes and just stared, causing Memial to stop and wonder whom the joke was really on . . . if there was a joke at all.
Aiken, getting a brake from the two girls, had time to reflect on his recent life style. All he had done was transfer from one school to the next, a good idea for anyone who went to his old school, but it seemed there were some prices for his better education. For one, these two girls just happen to choose him out of the many, many others kids and decided to pick on him - most likely because he's the new kid. Another price was that there was an archery club and he had to pay to get in! Well, it wasn't so harsh as the insane girls . . . But then again, they were the first other than Deidre to speak to him. And Deidre was an old friend of his - so old, he cant even remember when they met.
:: Aki gomaa enya corta . . . ::
"What the?" Jez blurts out.
Everyone in the library turns to stare at her.
"She speaks!!" Yells Memial, Deidre, Aiken and even Ben from the other side of the room all at the same time.
:: Enya corta vakoti los quto vato . . .::
At this Jez jumped up, knocking her chair down in the process.
"Um, Jez, honey, what's wrong? Are you ok? Do you need help? Cause if you do need help I'll try to help. I help my Uncle Bo a lot. I'm pretty good at helping. Uncle Bo says. . ."
Suddenly all the lights in the room explode, sending glass shattering to the floor. Screams were heard through out the room and they were brutally ended with hard smacks to the floor and tables. Everyone was passing out around the four teenagers, but they, Aiken, Jez, Deidre, and Memial, were unarmed.
Blindly reaching, Deidre finds another set of hands and latches on. As her fear mounts, her breath quickens until she is hyperventilating. The hands she clasped pulled her into a decidedly masculine chest and she felt a certain protection and comfort listening to this person's fast heartbeats and the raise and fall of his chest.
"Look!" Memial pointed. "The doors!"
A green mist seeped from under the closed library doors like a gas filtering its way into a person's lungs. Its coils traveled across the floor, illuminating the unconscious people sprawled on the floor and each other.
"Okay, People, are you all seeing what I'm seeing or am I crazy?" Aiken voiced the depth of shock the rest of his companions felt.
As the green fog thickened to the point that they couldn't see below their knees, Memial finds that her wit hasn't failed her. "Well, if you're seeing a bunch of knocked-out kids and some freaky green stuff, then yes, we are all crazy."
Suddenly the mist starts to rise up, clinging to their jeans, table, and chairs like icy hands reaching from beyond the graveyard to drag the teenagers down with them. For the second time that day (second time that week, for that matter), Jez spoke.
"Everyone, on top of the table! NOW!" she nearly screamed but had too much command in her voice to be over taken by the fear rising in herself and everyone else.
The shock of Jez barking out an order got an unquestioned obedience from everyone. As one the group followed her sharp command.
"Back to back, form a circle," Memial's voice was so high pitched it seemed like a scream.
While everyone moved to obey, Aiken unconsciously thrust Deidre in the middle of the human triangle so she'd be protected by their bodies. The mist clawed higher and higher and higher, until it touched the ceiling by the walls, so thick it might as well have been the walls themselves. Strangely, the green wall stops at the round table, caging all four on it.
::Oricaty vi sholum soquo velshime!::
At these words the green wall starts to spin at an alarming speed with everything turning with it, a huge tornado. A warm wind plays with their hair clothes, a friend's touch in this very strange scene. In unspoken agreement, Aiken, Memial and Jez step backwards and tighten the gap so they were touching Deidre. The green wall is closing in on them now, the four peered deeply into it, trying to see past it, and noticed horrible demonic faces, laughing and dancing with some hidden, evil joy.
"Oh, Lord! Oh, Shit! Oh, God!" Deidre screamed out from the top of her lungs.
The spinning wall was only an inch away from their faces and getting closer by the second
"Everyone," yelled Aiken, "Take a deep breath!"
And with that the mist was grabbing them with a chocking hold. At its touch a deep, cold soaked into their bones as if Death's Grip where upon them. The eye of the tornado disappeared. They were completely overtaken and surrounded by the green mist. Deidre started screaming at the top of her lungs and Memial wished she had her voice to scream along, while Aiken and Jez watched on and were still controlling their feelings enough, as the mist lifted them off of the table!
::Velshima!::
::Velshima!::
::Velshima!::
Then they were all screaming as pain exploded in their heads, racing along the brain like a herd of young children - screaming - running - pounding - a consent barraging pulse on their minds! It was like having your head stuck between two speakers that played Heavy Metal, on full blast. It was a dizziness feeling and the need to throw up, but nothing comes. The pain increased so much, becoming a nation of children that one by one they fell into the blackness of unconscious . . .
Authors: DracoStarbo ( dracostarbo@yahoo.com ) and Lunablue ( deadredsocks@yahoo.com )
Disclaimer: The Shannara universe belongs to Terry Brooks and affiliated companies. Lyrics to ' Shady's Back ' belong to Eminem a.k.a Marshal Mathers and affiliated companies.
Ratings: Pg-13
Warnings: This story contains language and ideas that can be found offensive.
Authors Notes: Loved something? Hated something? Let us know, by reading and reviewing. Or flaming. Or sending hate mail. We do except all forms of MasterCard, Visa and stalkers are generally appreciated.
Chapter One: The Last Day of the Rest of Our Lives
* * * *
Memial waved with a lightly tan, mostly-sun burnt hand, a last goodbye to her father and turned to take in the first full look with her green eyes at the local prison, a.k.a. high school. The students hustled pass her like- water rolling over an embedded rock in the mud. Social cows being herded into small spaces of four walls and a cold, plastic seats . . . just to grow up and find themselves in an even smaller space and having a mid-live crisis. Oh the joys of education.
//Okay, a new day, a new start! Remember, you may think this is prison, but they don't give death-penalties, so enjoy your remaining time and remember, good grades means good jobs!// she thought to herself as she flipped her brown waist-length hair back and followed the herd of fellow students.
Inside the Gates of Hell, she takes a left to the small library that is just barely larger than a classroom. She waved to Mrs. Smith, the library and her friend, before scanning the room for people she knew. There, sitting at a computer with a look of half-fear, half annoyance, was one of her male friends, Ben. The look he had on him could be explained by the girl who sat next to him . . . just staring at him . . . .She looked ready to whip out a knife and go to town making a new form of tattoo art on his skin. But she just sat there, staring at him like he was the freak exhibit at Circus. Her blonde hair framed her pale face and her black clothing brought out the light blues of her eyes.
"Hey, Ben!" Memial went over and stood on the opposite side of where the girl was. "What's up?"
He pointed to the girl, said, "That girl is freaking me out!"
"Yeah, I noticed," Memial chuckled.
"I'm serious! She's been there for a half an hour now - I tried leaving, but she just followed me! Mrs. Smith tried to get her away, but she didn't even blink! Please, make her stop!" Ben said with a pleading tone to his voice, which Memial could later on say was on the borderline of begging.
"But, Ben, someone likes you. You should be happy," Memial smirked.
He became very serious. "This isn't funny."
"Nor is your Hawaiian shirt," some random guy mumbled as he passed by.
"Hey!" Ben shouted, but it was ignored.
Memial took a seat next to the strange girl, who actually turned her head to meet Memial's eye level. "Hey, I'm Memial. Why are you staring at my friend? Are you memorized by that thing he calls a shirt?"
"Hey! Is this Make Fun of Ben Day?" he whined.
"No, that's on Tuesday," the same random guy called from halfway across the room.
"That's it!" Ben stood up and stalked over to that guy and started to cuss him out until Mrs. Smith stopped him and threatened to throw him out of the library.
"Yeah, anyway," Memial turned her attention back to the girl in front of her. "What's your name?"
The girl just kept looking at Memial, as if she was going to repeat what she did with Ben. But Memial wasn't phased.
"Fine, don't tell me your name," Memial shrugged. "School is boring, isn't it? Sometimes, I don't want to get up at all . . . All right, *most* of the time. You know, that's a cool shirt; I like the red pattern on it."
Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!!!
//And the bell rings, time to go to our first cells and wait until we can have our few minutes in the training yard. Fun, fun, fun!// Memial thought despising, though her face didn't change that much. "I'll see you later."
And Memial gets up and waves goodbye to Mrs. Smith, promising to be in there for lunch, humming a choppy tune underneath her breathe. The girl who she was talking to sit at the computer table for a while, just sitting, and then got up to go to her first class of the day. A thing about school is that most of the people will be asleep twenty minutes in.
//And I'd be one of them, but I have a teacher to torture,// she thought darkly.
Across the campus and in a small room with no windows, but a piano and stadium seating, she sat in a red plastic chair, thinking over how she could annoy Mr. Robb, her piano teacher. She could do the usual stare, but she'd found that he seems to be growing immunity to it. Maybe if she purposely hit all the wrong keys in the test today. Or maybe . . .
"Two trail park girls go 'round the outside,
'Round the outside . . ."
A whisper from a nearby headphone set sends an idea to straight to her brain.
//It's perfect.// she smirked evil-like.
Mr. Robb came into the classroom shortly after and had everyone settle down.
His first announcement, a test is to be taken! Everyone moaned, but he tells everyone that they had a week's notice, so no one could really complain. People still did, though. In his fifties and gray hair, Mr. Robb paid no heed and called up the first student.
Amanda, the hyper-active, bright kid of the class was more than willing to play all the different keys they've learned so far and a musical piece of her choosing - something from Mozart - and got an A. Next up was Jason, who had forgotten to practice a song, so he played "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star" and got a C. Rich and Jesus were the next two. They played the same song, made the same mistakes, and got the same grade - B.
"Jez Richards," he called out.
Jez walked down to the piano and sat down gracefully. //Play this note. What does this mean? How long is an eighth note?// The questions flew by with Jez answering them quickly, a little anxious to get to the rehearsed song. Finally, the last question was answered and she placed her hands onto the keys. At home, for fun and practice, she had done a few of her favorite songs, so the notes weren't the trouble, though she needed to play the beginning a few times to get use to the sound of a piano playing the song.
"Obie Trice. Name No Gimmicks . . ." the boy with the headphones at the beginning of class mumbled, instantly recognizing that tune. The other kids started to get into the swing of it, too, and some sang the lyrics:
"Two trailer park girls go round the outside,
Round the outside, round the outside..
Guess who's back, back again
Shady's back, tell a friend
Guess who's back, guess who's back,
Guess who's back. Guess who's back . . .?
Mr. Robb looked around a little baffled, but thought it must be a popular song and nothing more of it.
"I created a monster, cuz nobody wants to
See Marshall no more they want Shady
I'm chopped liver
Well if you want Shady, then this is what I'll give ya
A little bit of me mixed with some hard liquor
Some vodka that will jumpstart my heart quicker
Then a shock when I get shocked at the hospital
By the Dr. when I'm not cooperating
When I'm rocking the table while he's operating "Hey"
You waited this long to stop debating
Cuz I'm back, I'm on the rag and ovulating
I know you got a job Ms. Cheney
But your husband's heart problem is complicated
So the FCC won't let me be
Or let me be me so let me see
They tried to shut me down on MTV
But it feels so empty without me
So come on and dip, bum on your lips
Jump back jiggle a hip and wiggle a bit
And get ready cuz this is about to get heavy
I just settled all my lawsuits, "Fuck you, Debbie!!"
And it was then that Mr. Robb realized the meaning of this song, or at lest what the lyrics said. He yelled at everybody to stop singing and for Jez to stop playing, but they paid him no heed. A bunch of guys and some girls got up and started dancing to the music.
"This looks like a job for me
So everybody just follow me
Cuz we need a little controversy
Cuz it feels so empty without me.
Now this looks like a job for me
So everybody ju-"
SLAM!! Jez barely got her fingers out of the way of the cover of the piano keys that Mr. Robb slammed down, with a death glare in his eyes.
"I said, that - is - enough!" he hissed between clenched teeth. "Sit down, Ms. Richards."
Jez got up and went back to her seat, knowing that he wanted her to act afraid, so the best thing to do was to not be - which was easy; she'd seen worse death glares before. The class around her was stunned into silence, but they couldn't help the small smirks spreading over their lips and the laughter lighting up their eyes.
"Am I interrupting something?" a Nark ( a.k.a yard duddy) from the doorway asked. He stood next to a girl with black hair to her upper shoulders, thick and shiny, and black eyes matching her hair perfectly. She looked like a full-blooded Asian, probably was. She was wearing blue jeans, a fluffy pink sweeter and white tennis shoes.
"No, not at all," Mr. Robb seemed perfectly calm. "Can I help you?"
"She was lost, so I helped her out finding your class," the Nark gestured to the small girl beside him.
"Are you a foreign exchange student?" Mr. Robb asked the girl.
"Oh, no. My family's Vietnamese, though. My name's Deidre Ting. I tried to get into this class at the beginning of the school year, but my academic coordinator screwed up my schedule. I've basically had to start from scratch. Which totally sucks, the starting from scratch if you know what I mean. But it shouldn't be to hard cause I'm really good at the starting from scratch stuff - especially at cooking things with raw materials. I'm really good at that. My cooking teacher used to say that all the time, right until I blew her kitchen up but then-"
"Take a seat," Mr. Robb ordered.
Deidre sat at the end of the row of seats, feeling embarrassed about her babbling. She just liked to talk, was that a crime? For the rest of the period, Mr. Robb ranted and raved about inappropriate behavior. At first, the students where paying attention, feeling guilty for getting out of hand. Then, after the third time he repeated himself, they started to shut down their minds, one by one. No one was worth hearing a scorning from more than twice. The clock ticked away the seconds and finally that hellish sounding, buzzing bell rang and everyone filed out, talking idly about anything other than school.
However, instead of leaving class with the rest of her peers, Deidre timidly walked up to Robb and asked, "Mr. Robb, um, what do I need to pass this class?"
"You, a miracle."
"Um, ok. Tha-?"
"Seeing as you have joined this class so late, you will need a tutor." With a flip through his grade book and a growl that made Deidre take a cautious, step of self-survival backwards he snarled, "Ms. Richards (God have mercy on her soul) would be the best for the job. She's the crazy blonde chick that was playing that god forsaken devil song earlier. It shouldn't be too hard for you to find her. Just follow the trail of destruction and chaos." Mr. Robb than proceeds to hand Deidre some worksheets and information papers before sweeping out of the room leaving her standing there more than slightly confused . . . and scared. With a shake of her head, she stuffs the papers into her backpack and runs off to meet her good male friend Aiken.
Walking through the library doors she spots Aiken sitting at a table with a brunette, a blonde and a pink eraser. The blonde, the brunette and even the pink eraser seemed to be glaring evilly at the slightly nervous sandy brown haired boy.
"Deidre, save me!!!" Aiken winced at the undercurrent of undiluted terror in his voice.
The brunette yells, before bursting into hysterical laughter, "No one can save YOU!!!"
Deidre blinks. This day just seemed to be getting weirder and weirder.
Aiken started to scoot his chair backwards, towards the protection of Deirdre's presence. "These guys," a pause and dramatic effected added to his voice, "Are CRAZY!"
This comment only got the already laughing girl to laugh even harder, if that is possible. Deidre just stared confusingly and sat down. "Um, okay, what's happening here?"
"Just the usual. You know, torture, causing of mental anguish, the installment of eternal fear into one's soul."
"That's not nice!" Deidre couldn't help the burst of justice from her lips.
"Oh, come on, we're just foolin' around," the brunette managed between fits of giggles. "Right?" Jez remained silent, causing the brunette to stop laughing. "Um? Right!?"
Jez turned her upper body to face the girl sitting next to her, and with a look of scorn and sarcasm dripping from her eyes and just stared, causing Memial to stop and wonder whom the joke was really on . . . if there was a joke at all.
Aiken, getting a brake from the two girls, had time to reflect on his recent life style. All he had done was transfer from one school to the next, a good idea for anyone who went to his old school, but it seemed there were some prices for his better education. For one, these two girls just happen to choose him out of the many, many others kids and decided to pick on him - most likely because he's the new kid. Another price was that there was an archery club and he had to pay to get in! Well, it wasn't so harsh as the insane girls . . . But then again, they were the first other than Deidre to speak to him. And Deidre was an old friend of his - so old, he cant even remember when they met.
:: Aki gomaa enya corta . . . ::
"What the?" Jez blurts out.
Everyone in the library turns to stare at her.
"She speaks!!" Yells Memial, Deidre, Aiken and even Ben from the other side of the room all at the same time.
:: Enya corta vakoti los quto vato . . .::
At this Jez jumped up, knocking her chair down in the process.
"Um, Jez, honey, what's wrong? Are you ok? Do you need help? Cause if you do need help I'll try to help. I help my Uncle Bo a lot. I'm pretty good at helping. Uncle Bo says. . ."
Suddenly all the lights in the room explode, sending glass shattering to the floor. Screams were heard through out the room and they were brutally ended with hard smacks to the floor and tables. Everyone was passing out around the four teenagers, but they, Aiken, Jez, Deidre, and Memial, were unarmed.
Blindly reaching, Deidre finds another set of hands and latches on. As her fear mounts, her breath quickens until she is hyperventilating. The hands she clasped pulled her into a decidedly masculine chest and she felt a certain protection and comfort listening to this person's fast heartbeats and the raise and fall of his chest.
"Look!" Memial pointed. "The doors!"
A green mist seeped from under the closed library doors like a gas filtering its way into a person's lungs. Its coils traveled across the floor, illuminating the unconscious people sprawled on the floor and each other.
"Okay, People, are you all seeing what I'm seeing or am I crazy?" Aiken voiced the depth of shock the rest of his companions felt.
As the green fog thickened to the point that they couldn't see below their knees, Memial finds that her wit hasn't failed her. "Well, if you're seeing a bunch of knocked-out kids and some freaky green stuff, then yes, we are all crazy."
Suddenly the mist starts to rise up, clinging to their jeans, table, and chairs like icy hands reaching from beyond the graveyard to drag the teenagers down with them. For the second time that day (second time that week, for that matter), Jez spoke.
"Everyone, on top of the table! NOW!" she nearly screamed but had too much command in her voice to be over taken by the fear rising in herself and everyone else.
The shock of Jez barking out an order got an unquestioned obedience from everyone. As one the group followed her sharp command.
"Back to back, form a circle," Memial's voice was so high pitched it seemed like a scream.
While everyone moved to obey, Aiken unconsciously thrust Deidre in the middle of the human triangle so she'd be protected by their bodies. The mist clawed higher and higher and higher, until it touched the ceiling by the walls, so thick it might as well have been the walls themselves. Strangely, the green wall stops at the round table, caging all four on it.
::Oricaty vi sholum soquo velshime!::
At these words the green wall starts to spin at an alarming speed with everything turning with it, a huge tornado. A warm wind plays with their hair clothes, a friend's touch in this very strange scene. In unspoken agreement, Aiken, Memial and Jez step backwards and tighten the gap so they were touching Deidre. The green wall is closing in on them now, the four peered deeply into it, trying to see past it, and noticed horrible demonic faces, laughing and dancing with some hidden, evil joy.
"Oh, Lord! Oh, Shit! Oh, God!" Deidre screamed out from the top of her lungs.
The spinning wall was only an inch away from their faces and getting closer by the second
"Everyone," yelled Aiken, "Take a deep breath!"
And with that the mist was grabbing them with a chocking hold. At its touch a deep, cold soaked into their bones as if Death's Grip where upon them. The eye of the tornado disappeared. They were completely overtaken and surrounded by the green mist. Deidre started screaming at the top of her lungs and Memial wished she had her voice to scream along, while Aiken and Jez watched on and were still controlling their feelings enough, as the mist lifted them off of the table!
::Velshima!::
::Velshima!::
::Velshima!::
Then they were all screaming as pain exploded in their heads, racing along the brain like a herd of young children - screaming - running - pounding - a consent barraging pulse on their minds! It was like having your head stuck between two speakers that played Heavy Metal, on full blast. It was a dizziness feeling and the need to throw up, but nothing comes. The pain increased so much, becoming a nation of children that one by one they fell into the blackness of unconscious . . .