I own who I own, no more, no less. Enjoy the story, do not distress
I can make a rhyme anytime :33
"Who is this guy?"
"I don't know, I just found him laying here."
"Can I poke him with a stick?"
"Sure, I don't see why not."
"Cool." The two boys were speaking with thick German accents, and well, in German. They were in the middle of the Black Forest where they'd found a middle aged man unconscious under a tree who was currently being poked with a stick by the second boy.
"You think we should show this to Ulrich?" The first of the boys said.
"Yeah, sure..." The second said absentmindedly while poking the man's cheek with the stick.
"Hey, stop it, will you, before you poke his eyes out." The first boy snapped at the second.
"But it's so much fun."
"Felix, put the stick down right now before I tell mother!" Felix dropped the stick and pouted.
"I thought you said I could poke him, Simon..."
"Yeah, but not in the face, you could stab his brains out or something!"
"Is he even alive?" The young Felix said, somewhat trembling, and examined the figure laying before them. It was that of a middle aged man with dark gray hair and a beard donned in a burgundy turtleneck, black pants, and the shredded remains of what used to be brown shoes. What was showing of him was littered with scratches and bruises and dirt, his breathing was somewhat shallow. For a man his age he was lean and looked rather limber even athletic. Simon knelt down by the man and checked his pulse.
"He's alive alright." Simon said. "I definitely think we should show Ulrich, though, he'd know what to do. You go get him, I'll keep watch."
"Ok." Felix replied obediently to his older brother then walked off.
Meanwhile at the Stern residence Ulrich was chopping wood.
"My only vacation and I get to spend it doing chores..." He mumbled in French, making sure to be quiet enough so that nobody inside could hear him. His grandparent's house was a strictly German household and if he spoke any other language his grandmother would lash at him, but he did so prefer the tongue he spoke at school with his good buddies.
"Hey Ulrich." A small voice said behind him, startling him slightly, though he didn't show it. He didn't need to turn around, it was a voice he knew far too well.
"Go away, Felix. You've annoyed me enough for one summer." Ulrich said.
"What?" Felix questioned. Ulrich quickly realized his mistake in having continued using French when all the little boy knew was German, so he repeated himself in said language.
"But this is really important!" Felix protested.
"Important like the anthill was important, or maybe more like those rhinestones you said were buried treasure?" Ulrich's voice dripped with sarcasm.
"More important than all of those two combined! Me and Simon found it in the forest and you gotta come quick!"
"Listen, Felix, why don't you just run off with your brother and go play with whatever thing you found before I get yelled at again. You don't need to get me involved in every little thing you do, ya know."
"I'm being serious." Felix said in a small voice that had never sounded more serious in his life and tugged gently at Ulrich's arm. Ulrich sighed.
"Fine, if it'll get you off my back, I'll go see what it is."
"Yay, he's coming!" Felix instantly perked up and snickered, amused that his act had worked, Ulrich groaned as he was dragged into the forest by the eager boy.
Simon looked in the direction his brother had run off in then back at the man then back in the direction.
"How long does it take to get someone." He said impatiently. As if one cue, Felix and Ulrich came running into view.
"So Simon found him and then I started poking him with a stick and Simon told me to stop or he'd tell mother and...Oh, hi Simon."
"Hey Felix."
"So where is this guy you two were talking about?" Ulrich questioned. Simon got out of the way and Ulrich's eyes fell upon the man in question.
"...No way..." He whispered, instantly recognizing the man as Franz Hopper, who he and his friends had seen killed the year before. After that registered, he noticed what a bad shape Franz was in. He pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket.
"Either of you have a water bottle?" Ulrich asked. Simon took out a large water bottle from the backpack he was wearing.
"Mother made us bring it so we wouldn't get dehydrated." He said.
"Right, give it here." Ulrich said. Simon handed Ulrich the water bottle which he unscrewed and poured some water onto the handkerchief. He began to clean Franz's wounds so that they would not become infected. In his mind he kept asking himself "Is that him? Is that really him? But he died, we watched it, how did he survive? How did he get here?" He wiped a wound on Franz's forehead. "Didn't Franz have glasses?" Ulrich asked himself, but concluded they must have been shattered in the process of whatever made him look this way. Ulrich started to clean a wound dead center on his forehead when Franz stirred. The other two boys jumped, having been watching closely. Suddenly Franz opened his eyes and jumped up. His eyes had this sort of wild glint and a singular thought raced through his mind. Destroy Xana. He ran off with more speed than any of them would have thought possible for his age. The two young boys just stared after him while Ulrich got his phone and dialed the familiar number. After the dial tone went off a few times voice mail picked up.
"Hey, This is Jeremie Belpois. I can't come to the phone right now but please leave your name and number and I'll get back to you as soon as I can." The phone beeped.
"Hey, Jeremie. It's Ulrich...we have a problem..."
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