----My apologies, I suck at openings. Anyways here is my story. Enjoy, pleaseeeee read and review. I DO NOT OWN ZATCH BELL. The characters in this story however are a different matter. -----
Chapter 1 - The beginning.
The night was clear, the stars twinkled, the full moon shone gloriously. Everything was in order, it was time. The beginning of an event one thousand years in the making, was about to take place. The next Momodo King was to be decided.
As the hour drew near the shine of full the moon grew more and more intense. It burned so brightly that the night appeared as day, there wasn't a corner of the globe that hadn't been filled with its silver glow.
The buzzing metropolis of Mochinoki Japan was particularly under its gaze. If you had been watching the sky that night you would have been witness an extraordinary event taking place in the atmospheres above. The sky was lit up as what appeared to be several shooting starts raced through the heavens. But these shooting stars were unlike that of past, instead of making there brief appearance and then fading beyond the horizon, these stars traveled swiftly not toward the horizon but toward the ground. They came closer and closer until in select areas around the globe they landed. Giving off a bright flash. But unlike what you would expect there was no catastrophic explosion, not nearly a sound was made. A few people took notice of this taking place. But in Mochinoki, people were blissfully unaware of the forces in motion as they hurried too and from their destinations.
As we are on the topic of Mochinoki, a few miles away from the main section of the city, on the coastline. One of these "stars" had made impact on the sandy shores. Anyone would have expected to see a hunk of metallic space rock.
But this indeed was not what had landed from outer space. It was of all things a child, a very strange Devilish looking child. From his size and body build you could tell he couldn't be any older than ten or eleven.
He lay dormant for well over an hour, when suddenly his left arm began to twitch, his fingers clutched tightly into a fist and he inhaled deeply. Slowly and painfully he drew his legs closer to him, he struggled getting up onto his knees. But after a while of effort he managed to stand up fully. He swayed left and right as he gained his composure. After he was satisfied he could stand sufficiently he brushed off the sand that clung to his clothing and face. He was dressed mostly in black. Black pants, black shirt with what looked like red scratch marks coming into the center. A blood red belt was strongly visible, it was buckled with a silver skull on it, it was to dark to see his face clearly but one could see from the light that the moon gave that he had deathly pale skin and black hair.
After spending several minutes stretching his aching limbs, he reached back to the backpack he was wearing. As he felt it, his body language changed from relaxed to tense in no time flat. You couldn't see his face but by the way he whipped his head and arms around frantically you can assume it was an expression of panic. The contents of the bag must have been flung from the impact of the landing. The child ripped the sack of off his back violently, he scoured every pocket of the bag a hundred times over, but clearly it was empty. He threw the bag to ground forcefully, and proceeded to stomp on it. He soon realized this was doing absolutely no good in helping him recover the lost contents of his bag, and began to look around him.
He moved fluently through the dark with no effort at all. Even though the moon was still bright, it had greatly dimmed since the stars shot from it. The devil boy moved faster and faster, he turned over every rock he found. He moved further and further up the beach, more and more frantically he searched for something, something of great importance. Over half an hour and about five hundred feet of rocky coast later, something caught The young boy's eye. A hardcover book of fairly decent size laying sideways wedged between two stones. The book was strange, it was of a deep mahogany color and on the front many strange writings, with an hourglass figure on it.
After spotting the book the boy's posture returned to relaxed, he calmly picked up the book and held it tightly in his right hand. He obviously couldn't put it back in his backpack, after stomping it into the sand.
A quick look at his surrounding and he knew he was in a fairly decent sized city. A good place for him indeed, to seek the one he needed. He gazed upon the roaring see, the waves crashing upon the coastline in a ever repeating fashion. The sun had begun to rise slowly across the horizon. As the bright yellow light shone forth across the sea, the demon boy snarled in disgust of it. He walked quite swiftly up the stairs onto the nearby sidewalk, after crossing the rather lifeless street he retreated into the shadows of the towering hotels and bars that lined the coast. When he was fully immersed in darkness once more, his pace slowed down greatly.
"So….It's begun" The boy spoke in a raspy, stoic voice. As a demonic grin grew across his face. Laughingly he carried on.
While thousands of miles away in Berlin Germany, destiny was hard at work. Binding the fate of this demon boy, to that of a troubled teen.
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Max glared intently out at the exquisite estates outside, perched atop slight elevations, guarded by high fences that surrounded their perfectly manicured grounds.
Any ordinary person would have found them to be magnificent displays of wealth and power, but to Max they had become old hat, having been raised his entire life in Berlins classiest and most upscale neighborhoods had really desensitized him to the point where they had no effect on him. As a matter of fact many people would have been impressed by his lifestyle, all the fine schools the cars every material possession you could imagine, people kill, risk going to jail for that. But Max simply hated it; he saw the cars the boats the clothes and especially the mansions as only empty shells, shells in which to hide the hypocrisy treachery and corruption that occurred so often. He would have given it all up in a heartbeat simply to live a normal life. But, he would never be normal. His fate was bound to that of politics and business, he was after all a Renault.
The maroon colored luxury vehicle he was riding in sped away quickly. The driver of the car raised his head to look through the rearview mirror, opened his mouth and inhaled, as if he wished to say something. Without turning his head Max shot his big blue eyes over to the mirror to match the driver's gaze, after their eyes had met the driver slunk back into his chair, exhaled and closed his mouth. Once again paying attention to the road.
Max didn't feel like being lectured on what had happened that day at school.
After the car he was being transported in had finished its drive through Berlin's upscale neighborhoods it came to a stop in front of a pair of large black gates, the driver stepped out of the car and walked over to a keypad and entered a code consisting of a vast amount of numbers. A loud beep and the gates slowly swung open, he re-entered the car and drove up the long driveway. The vehicle pulled up in front of an impressively large brick estate. The driver in his neatly ironed and painstakingly pressed suit, stepped out , he walked over to the backend of the car and opened the door. After a lengthy pause Max begrudgingly dragged himself out of the back seat. He was garbed in what appeared to be a school uniform consisting of, black slacks and a white oxford, what didn't seem to be a part of the uniform was a black t-shirt with the outline of an eagle in silver put on over the top of it, of his feet were a pair of black and white skateboard shoes, and for his face, a pair of black thickly outlined glasses defined his rather asymmetric face, on his head was an abundance of raven black spiky hair.
Max walked slowly over to the daunting front steps made of an opaque marble, that led up to the even more daunting deep set of Oakwood door's . He moved painfully up each step and if he was being led to his death, when he had reached the top of the stairs he turned around and looked out over the perfectly kept grounds of the estate. Anything to postpone his enter. He would have done anything to just escape into the surrounding mountains, he would've gladly lived as a savage wild man than go on as he was. But alas, he had to put such silly notions out of his head. He gulped deeply and took a hold of the large brass doorknob, and with a slight squeak opened the door.
Little did he know that this very day was the beginning of the series of events that would change his life. And plunge him headfirst into an epic battle.