A/N: One day I was sitting in my room and I found The Invisible Man by HG Wells...later I started reading it in school and found that I kind of liked it. :)~ The invisible man sort of reminded me of Achmed, and that made me think "Wouldn't it be fun if Achmed met the invisible man?" And soo...THIS FIC WAS BORN! (I'm also kind of hoping I'll start some sort of trend of Rhapsody fanfictions, which are REALLY rare for some reason. The books are by Elizabeth Haydon, READ EM NOW! Please? They're really good...If anyone wants to start a petition to give it its own category, I'll sign.) I'd also like to apologize for any discrepancies in characters and story since I haven't finished The Invisible Man yet and can't write like E. Haydon and I'm not going to try. ^_^ Kay? This is pretty much using characters and concepts...you'll see.
To keep in line with the Symphony of Ages series and to avoid any nagging details and characters I don't want to deal with, this takes place before Achmed gets enslaved by the F'dor. I'm also not going to bother with the Iping dialect.
Rating: PG-13 for violence, just in case.
Disclaimer: I don't own the Symphony of Ages series or anything by HG Wells and I'm not making money off of this. THANKYOU! ^___^ Let the fun begin!
**
Prologue
It was raining, the sun hidden by a slate shroud of clouds. The fat drops were driven into the skin of anyone unfortunate enough to be caught out in the monsoon like icey bullets, driven by a bone cold wind. Fields of grain and grass rolled in the thundering gale like waves of the sea while trees splintered like masts and there leaves flew about like scattered canvas. Animals hid where they could, a cave or a shed. Burrows were quickly flooded with cold, dark, choking water. Lighting split the sky like shards of luminous ice as rivers slowly rose.
Annie thought it was beautiful and she pressed her pale face against the window. Occasionally she could catch a glimpse of the countryside through the veils of rain, the colors exaggerated and new looking like an oil painting. Water flowed everywhere, even in places inside her own house. This made her parents anxious but she didn't mind it so much. They thought it would make her sickness worse with a chill.
She sat back in her bed with a sigh, drawing her knees up into her white nightgown. They were always so worried about her. She couldn't remember not being sick and she was hardley allowed outside. The doctors kept telling her that her body had something wrong with it and didn't fight as hard as other bodies when it got sick.
The squeak of the door handle brought Annie's attention to her door as her mother came in with a tray and a steaming bowl of onion soup. Her mother was a good cook. The woman stopped for a moment and then swifty came forward, almost spilling the soup as she set the tray down on a small table, swooping down on her daughter like a raven. "Annie! Darling, what are you doing without your blanket?" She gave her daughter a quick hug and a peck on the cheek, then crouched at her bedside.
"I was getting too hot..."
"Well, then let me get you a thinner blanket. We don't want you catching a chill."
Annie looked frantically around for an answer that wasn't wool, so many blankets, "The soup will warm me up!" Her mother laughed and pulled a blue wool blanket out of a green trunk by the wall. "Yes, but not nearly enough." She tucked the blanket around her daughter and pushed back the little girl's pale blonde hair and smiled, "We need to fight off your latest bout."
The girl folded her arms in front of her and sighed again, "Okay..." Her mother gave her another appreciative peck on the cheek and asked, "Would you like me to get you a book?"
"No thankyou."
"Alright, I'll be back in a bit." And she left, quietly closing the door behind her. Annie put her tray on her lap and started on her soup, working a big chunk of melted provolone cheese around her spoon and looking out the window as she did so. She fancied she saw a black cloaked figure standing in the field, then watched as it ran between the sheets of rain and out of site like a black cloud. Annie wondered if it was the stranger from Mrs. Hall's inn again. As she stuffed the cheese into her mouth she concluded that it must be someone else, since you couldn't see Mrs. Hall's stranger anymore than you could see the wind.
And nobody knew this but her. And she knew a lot of things.
To be continued...
To keep in line with the Symphony of Ages series and to avoid any nagging details and characters I don't want to deal with, this takes place before Achmed gets enslaved by the F'dor. I'm also not going to bother with the Iping dialect.
Rating: PG-13 for violence, just in case.
Disclaimer: I don't own the Symphony of Ages series or anything by HG Wells and I'm not making money off of this. THANKYOU! ^___^ Let the fun begin!
**
Prologue
It was raining, the sun hidden by a slate shroud of clouds. The fat drops were driven into the skin of anyone unfortunate enough to be caught out in the monsoon like icey bullets, driven by a bone cold wind. Fields of grain and grass rolled in the thundering gale like waves of the sea while trees splintered like masts and there leaves flew about like scattered canvas. Animals hid where they could, a cave or a shed. Burrows were quickly flooded with cold, dark, choking water. Lighting split the sky like shards of luminous ice as rivers slowly rose.
Annie thought it was beautiful and she pressed her pale face against the window. Occasionally she could catch a glimpse of the countryside through the veils of rain, the colors exaggerated and new looking like an oil painting. Water flowed everywhere, even in places inside her own house. This made her parents anxious but she didn't mind it so much. They thought it would make her sickness worse with a chill.
She sat back in her bed with a sigh, drawing her knees up into her white nightgown. They were always so worried about her. She couldn't remember not being sick and she was hardley allowed outside. The doctors kept telling her that her body had something wrong with it and didn't fight as hard as other bodies when it got sick.
The squeak of the door handle brought Annie's attention to her door as her mother came in with a tray and a steaming bowl of onion soup. Her mother was a good cook. The woman stopped for a moment and then swifty came forward, almost spilling the soup as she set the tray down on a small table, swooping down on her daughter like a raven. "Annie! Darling, what are you doing without your blanket?" She gave her daughter a quick hug and a peck on the cheek, then crouched at her bedside.
"I was getting too hot..."
"Well, then let me get you a thinner blanket. We don't want you catching a chill."
Annie looked frantically around for an answer that wasn't wool, so many blankets, "The soup will warm me up!" Her mother laughed and pulled a blue wool blanket out of a green trunk by the wall. "Yes, but not nearly enough." She tucked the blanket around her daughter and pushed back the little girl's pale blonde hair and smiled, "We need to fight off your latest bout."
The girl folded her arms in front of her and sighed again, "Okay..." Her mother gave her another appreciative peck on the cheek and asked, "Would you like me to get you a book?"
"No thankyou."
"Alright, I'll be back in a bit." And she left, quietly closing the door behind her. Annie put her tray on her lap and started on her soup, working a big chunk of melted provolone cheese around her spoon and looking out the window as she did so. She fancied she saw a black cloaked figure standing in the field, then watched as it ran between the sheets of rain and out of site like a black cloud. Annie wondered if it was the stranger from Mrs. Hall's inn again. As she stuffed the cheese into her mouth she concluded that it must be someone else, since you couldn't see Mrs. Hall's stranger anymore than you could see the wind.
And nobody knew this but her. And she knew a lot of things.
To be continued...