Spartica and the Raiderblades

Ok this was written by my very good friend KizmetHawk and I am publishing it for her....it's really good so read it. Everything after this little message was written by her.

Disclaimer: Ok, I'm the author of this, my imagination and ideas, but thanks go to Seripa who made this possible. I do not own Beyblade! I never have and never will, all praise and worship go to those who do, bows down.

Can I just say that if this is not your 'cup of tea', do not complain to me after reading it (we did warn you in the summary), I mean how can I put this more bluntly, it's your own fault for reading it in the first place, and to put my side (never going to happen) story up is not a crime, it's just me offering you a piece of my imagination. Sorry I know it's harsh, but sometimes you have to see it in the other person's view and think logically. Of course suggestions and complaints about grammar and spelling, etc are welcome, or if you think I'm going to slow or fast, or whatever. Ok, now I've put down my thought trail, let me get on with the story. Thanks.

Chapter 1 - Blood Hunt Bane

Six years ago

There was only one way to describe Spartica's situation, or maybe two – falling and spinning. Both at the same time. She felt like she was Teelie, spinning around while dropping down to a beydish, which surface she never reached. In the background, the crowing cry of triumph had died off and in its place was left a never-ending darkness. She curled up tight and shut the suffocating blackness out from her world, at least she tried to, but she did not feel like she was human anymore, nor bird – she was everything and she was nothing; she was invincible, but unable to comprehend, nor fight her invisible enemy; she was the dark, yet she rejected everything it was made of. How could everything feel so possible, but so far away?

In her present mind she felt herself clawing for her freedom, to search for something, anything, which would give her a foot hold to hold onto. That was when she heard it; the whisper.

'Spartica'

The voice was warm and gentle, a delicate nudge in the right direction, she felt the soft sound turn into a gentle breeze, and she let it guide her to its destination. Was this death?

She hoped not.

The breeze grew more powerful with every second she stayed within its current, and soon it was no longer gentle, but harsh and biting, the cold nibbling cruelly at her nose and fingers.

Her fingers? She was whole again? Human? Then just as soon as she became relieved, she suddenly wished she were not human at all. The merciless gale buffeted and lashed at her, even through her bear hide coat and boots - she did not remember how she had gotten into such clothes, only knew that they were there. She risked a peek through her eyelashes, and saw before her, none other than her old front driveway being caught up within a giant snowstorm.

She knew this to be her driveway; from the rock she was clinging helplessly to – which in fact was not a rock at all, but a statue of a giant ice drake. She curled up into the tail, and tried to take shelter under the hollow that the dragon made with its arching body. Looking out she could see nothing. Not one thing, other than the snow whipping around in small currents and a small dark silhouette striding towards her.

The angel, her angel, coming to save her at last. The woman had dark blue hair and deep green eyes, which twinkled and sparkled as she strode on, as if the wind was nothing, but a rice paper wall. As the woman came closer and stretched out her arms towards the cowering girl, she noticed that the woman was saying something to her; it was firm, but calm as it called.

'Spartica'

The woman reached down and plucked the small girl from her hiding place, before carrying her in a princess hold, and walking back the way she had come. The woman was warm and strong, and Spartica no longer felt the biting, blinding wind, but a sense of peace.

Although, even though she was now in a safe refuge, the woman kept on speaking. Her voice sounded of autumn leaves and a whistling wind, as she spoke.

'Spartica'

And as Spartica opened her mouth to say that she was there, something else happened.

The world dissolved around her, and in place of a reply, she screamed – although she had no idea why, maybe it was the two bodies of her murdered parents as they lay on the floor, or the face of the man she wished she could never see again. Or perhaps it was a scream or such horror and rage that made her feel nothing, but pure hate.

Spartica felt nothing but the fury that threatened to overflow her as she screamed, as she grabbed the sharp beyblade from her small belt pouch and ran into the corridor.

Instead of coming into a hallway, however she came face to face with a young red haired girl, her best friend, Tamsin. This girl too called to her, her name, but this time, much more firmly then the woman.

'Spartica?'

As she ran pass the smaller girl, she saw the visions of the blood only she could see.

Of a white scarf.

Four blue shark-fin tattoos.

Lastly two bright ice blue eyes.

Slowly the visions vanished and she was calm, and the voice called her attention once again. It was stern, but kindly, and she loved him. Her grandfather.

'Spartica!'

'Hey love, you alright?' A soft Russian accented his voice.

'What was that?' Asked the ten year old, clearly trembling.

'The void.' His voice was drained of emotion.

'Grandfather?'

'Yes, my little Sparrow?'

'I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.'

'I know child. Hush, sleep now.'

And as she closed her eyes, she found her peace with the world at last, and rested.

The man watched his only surviving relative fall back to sleep, well not only - but that other one was not exactly a relation by blood now, were they? At least, he thought as he overlooked her, her blood hunt is finally over.

He sighed and rocked back on the heels of the chair.

Doctor Haughton, inventor extraordinaire, sat there, at the Imvie Close Hospital, for the rest of the night.