Okay, so the story goes like this-
I had loaded several chapters of these three stories that I had been dabbling in on and off for the last year or so: one for Digimon, one for Wolf's Rain, and this one (I'm an ecclectic animated program watcher). I was perusing through the dozen or so chapters I had stocked up when I noticed that the word "Life" atop one of the columns was highlighted blue, indicating it was a link. Curious, I clikced it and read the short sentece that pretty much said that anything left in the documents folders after 60 days would be trashed.
And can you guess how long these have apparently been in there?
...hang on, wait a minute... I only put those in there about three weeks ago, now that I think about it. How the hell can it tell me that they've been stored for two months? I don't even think this account is two months old...
Ah well. Point is, I'm not going to upload all my chapters at once... but to save me the hassle of doing it later, I'm going to post the first chapter of the two stories not yet introduced, and get the last saved chapter of Digimon Heroes up as well. That way I can feel productive right before the site eliminates nearly an hour of uploading effort. sigh
Anywho, yeah. So, that's my story.
And I'm stickin' to it!
Disclaimer: My name is Kat, and Kat does not own the rights to just about anyone you'll read in this fanfiction. I don't know who does own the rights, but let me repeat, it is not me. I just own a cat. And a venus fly trap. And a crappy computer. That's it.
Chapter 1
Just a Dream
"Stop, thief!"
I glanced over my shoulder at the mobbing villagers. "I keep telling you! This is mine!" I know my voice sounded dangerously close to a whine, but considering the current situation, I think fear outweighs my social reputation for now.
"Get the liar! She's running away!"
"Well, what do you think!?" I cried, facing forward again as I refocused on running. "You're all chasing me!"
"Someone stop her!"
Someone wake me!
You always know something is very wrong when you start thinking of your fuzzy frog-shaped alarm clock lovingly and longingly. The very thing I spent every morning ignoring, despising, and slapping, I suddenly found myself wanting more than anything. For if I had my alarm clock, then I could set it off. And when that familiar buzzing rang through my head, something in my messed up brain would finally kick in and wake me up from this crazy series of nightmares. I'd open my eyes, rather slowly at first and with lots of effort, but I'd feel the familiar brush of the underside of my frog-adorned blanket around my face. I'd pull head out from underneath, blink around at my box-infested room, and-
Wait… if I'm wishing for miracles here, then I might as well wish myself back in Fallon Hills and that my dad weren't crazy…
But wait a second, I'm getting a little ahead of myself. I guess none of you even know what the heck I'm talking about, do you? Crap, I guess that means I have to explain don't I? Well, let me go ahead and warn you, then. I really suck at summarizing. Just ask my English teacher.
Anyway, I suppose I should start at the beginning then. Now, all I have to worry about is figuring out where that is. Let's see… I think it all started when my mom and me moved to this inky dinky middle-of-nowhere little town called Heatherfield. I mean, that's where all this nightmarish stuff started- not the running-away-from-villagers-for-"stealing"-my-own-backpack nightmare, but the other stuff. Like being the new kid in school, the subject of torment by local bullies, heartless teachers giving me three page papers, and stuff like that. Course, now that I step back and think about it, I think I'd take the paper over running for my life any day.
Oops, I'm kind of moving off the subject, aren't I? See, I told you I was bad at this! Anyway, like I said, most of this weird stuff happened when we came here. We moved after my parents divorced and my dad was growing a tad stalker-ish. Creepy, huh? Anyway, my mom got a transfer from her mega-big corporate company to move here- and drag me with her. Not that I didn't mind too much. About living with my mom, that is. She's pretty cool, actually, when she's not being my mom of course. Sometimes, when she thinks no one's looking, she can actually be a lot of fun. So leaving my dad for her wasn't too big a problem. It was leaving Fallon Hills for Heatherfield that left me no choice but to give Mom the silent treatment the entire ride to my new home.
"Oh, come on, Will! Just look around! At least once?" Mom coaxed. "You'll never get to like Heatherfield if you don't at least give it a chance."
Oh, by the way, I totally forgot. My name is Will, in case you haven't already figured it out. Will Vandom. And no, I'm not a guy. Will is just a nickname. Don't even bother asking for my real name because I refuse to live with the humiliation.
Anyway… continuing…
"Who says I'm not giving it a chance?" I grumbled. "I can see the street just fine."
"But look at this town, Will!" she repeated, sweeping her eyes around her as she drove. "It feels so… so quaint and peaceful. Not like Fallon Hills was. You just wait, hon, this place'll grow on you. You'll be running around here with a bunch of new friends in no time."
She didn't know how right she'd end up being. I was definitely running around, and though the people with me weren't exactly my friends, at least there were a bunch of 'em.
But I digress. Not even I knew then what trouble awaited me in the deceptively peaceful town of Heatherfield. I did nothing but grunt in response to Mom's cheery attitude and sunk deeper into the folds of my sweatshirt as we maneuvered around town, trying to find our new apartment.
It didn't take very long. Heatherfield is no New York City, so within a few minutes, we found ourselves parking in the structure next to the apartment building and riding the elevator up to the eighteenth floor.
When the elevator doors opened, Mom spent the next three minutes rummaging through her circus-tent-sized bag for the keys. I was almost sent down to the manager's room for the spare key when she finally found them and inserted them into the door. Mom jiggled them a bit until we both heard the lock pop, and with a dramatic pause, Mom swept the door open.
"Oh, Will, just look at this! Isn't it fabulous!?"
I raised an eyebrow at her. "Mom… it's nothing but a bunch of boxes."
"I know, I know, but think about it! Can't you just imagine it when it's all done? See, the big red couch will go right there in the middle, and the television will go right in front of it against the wall. The bookcase will go…" Her voice trailed off as she mosied away, pointing at various piles of boxes as she designed the entire apartment in her mind. I just stood there with my hands in my pockets, spending all of a second wondering if she actually expected me to follow her before I did some moseying myself. As long as she was busy in her fantasy home, I could snag first dibbs on my room.
Beyond the kitchen was a hallway where I had guessed the bedrooms would be. I was right. The master bedroom veered to the right while two more stood to the left and at the end of the hallway. One of these would be Mom's home office while the other would be my bedroom. Making my way across, I stuck my head into the already opened dark room right next to the master bedroom. It was pretty spacious but the bathroom looked like it connected into the master bedroom. Considering this whole "move" thing still had me pretty ticked off, I didn't figure I'd be able to pull off a proper pouty mood with Mom being that close. Not to mention the window sported a lovely view of the building next to ours and the rat-infested alleyway that separated the two.
"Yeah, I think not," I muttered, closing the door and moving onto the last room. I got a bit of a jolt when I touched the doorknob, but attributed that to static electricity before I opened the door. The inside was considerably lighter due to the window facing out over the street. Light trickled in through its dusty glass to splash on the faded carpet beneath my feet. The room was a lot smaller than the other one, but I already started to like it better. The personal bathroom was a plus, too.
"Will! There you are! I've been looking all over for you." Mom stuck her head into the room and gave it a quick once over before smiling. "Oh, Will, this room is adorable! Perfect for your bedroom, don't you think?"
I shrugged like I didn't care (still have to act pouty, remember) and turned to the window, swiping off the dust with my sleeve and opening it. While behind me, Mom was complaining about my sullied sweatshirt, I leaned out over the sill and gazed out at my new life. To tell you the truth, my new life was dull, dusty, and smelly (literally). But I guess if Mom was so jazzed about it (even if it was only for my sake), then I guess I could pretend to be a little less pouty.
The rest of the week passed without much event. We had reserved a whole day to drive around town and get to know the place, but when "the place" had been driven around in about forty-five minutes, we decided to go back and work on those boxes of ours. With the amount of boxes still lingering around after the weekend passed, one wouldn't have guessed at how much work we actually put into it.
But at least I had my bed in my room with my froggy blanket and green frog pillows. What can I say? I have a thing for frogs. And I had my fuzzy frog alarm clock. And my bedside table. And… a lot more boxes.
I figured the box thing would probably be an issue until the end of time, knowing my mom and me, so I didn't sweat too much about it.
No, what had me sweating was the fact that the weekend was over. Which made it Monday- the first day of school.
I kept up a steady groan during the entire seven-minute car ride to the front gate of Sheffield Institute. My god, I was going to an institute! Just the very name had me trembling nervously. The images of white padded rooms and prison bars and lab coat-donning professors with creepy grins and squirting syringes floating around my head did nothing to ease them.
"Don't worry so much, Will," my mother said, trying to be reassuring. "You'll be fine. You go have fun and make some new friends, okay?"
I turned wide eyes at her, wondering how she could think of going to a mental institution disguised as a school could be fun. Was she in on it? Was she sending me to my doom? Should I have not pouted as much as I did? The more questions I asked myself, the crazier I felt I was becoming, so before my mom got suspicious I opened the door and reluctantly pulled myself out of the car. As I closed the door, I glanced back at my smiling and waving mother before I took a deep breath and started walking through the dark, imposing gates.
Actually, the inside looked a lot less scary then the outside did. Sheffield Institute was composed of a handful of brick, well kept buildings with a well manicured green lawn and trees dotting the campus everywhere. Hundreds of students milled around the place like ants, some in small packs while others moped about alone. Heck, it actually looked like a… aschool!
The whole scene was completed with the loud, shrill ringing of a bell from somewhere or other which triggered the mild stampede of teenagers to the various entrances around the buildings. I just stood there, watching them all for a few moments before I realized I should probably be joining them if I didn't want to be late for class. Swinging my bag over my shoulder, I dug my schedule out of my pocket and peered at the little numbers written on it. After a while, I glanced up, picked a direction and started walking.
About three minutes after the tardy bell rang, I found myself at the bottom of some staircase, looking around hopelessly. I swear, I circled every building at least twice, but I still couldn't find room 313!
Frustrated beyond belief, I pulled my head back and shouted, "Can't a girl go through a first day of school without all this crap!?"
"You're lost, aren't you?"
My head whipped around so fast that I think I gave myself a headache. I shook my head once to shake it off before looking for the source of the voice. What I found was a dark-skinned girl smiling down at me from the top of the stairs. Her black hair was arranged in an interesting collection of braids and beads at the side of her head that sort of made her look like a voodoo shaman in training, but the brown eyes behind her wide-rimmed glasses seemed kind and friendly.
I sensed the possibility of one of those new friends Mom was talking about, so I grinned sheepishly. "Is it that obvious?"
The stranger shrugged, still smiling. "I can recognize the symptoms of 'new kid syndrome'," she replied as she made her way down the stairs. "I've only been here three days, so I'm still in recovery myself. But don't worry, you'll get the hang of this place eventually."
I laughed at her interesting choice of words. New kid syndrome. Doesn't that fit me just perfectly? "Glad to know," I told her.
The girl grinned and nodded. "I'm Taranee, by the way. Need any help finding your class?"
My smile widened. "I'm Will. And help from a seasoned veteran would be most appreciated."
Taranee laughed, her braids bouncing around her face. "I don't know about 'seasoned veteran', but I'm sure I can at least point you in the right direction." She took one look at the paper schedule that I showed her before her eyes lit. "Room 313? That's the bio lab. You're in the right building; just on the wrong side." She turned and pointed up the stairs behind us. "Go up there and head toward the other side. Doesn't really matter which way you go since they lead to the same place. There'll be a staircase on that side, too, and the lab will be right next to them."
I folded up my schedule and offered Taranee a huge, grateful smile. "Thanks. I'd have been lost without you."
"You already were lost without me," she pointed out teasingly. "But you're welcome all the same. I'll see you around, okay?"
"Alright," I replied, waving over my shoulder as I bounded up the stairs. "See you!"
As the two of us went our separate ways, I couldn't help but rejoice in my stroke of luck. Taranee seemed really nice and I found myself actually happy I got so lost. Maybe the rest of the day wouldn't be so bad after all?
But of course, I was wrong. New student or not, my biology teacher was pretty upset about me being so late. As a result, I had the honor of being assigned extra homework on account of me "catching up". Yeah right. On top of that, these two girls seated behind me kept whispering so loudly in my math class that the teacher thought I was in on it and sent all three of us out into the hallway for a stern lecture. She kept expressing her disappointment in me for striking such a bad first impression, no matter how much I protested my innocence. The other two, a bubbly Asian named Hay-lin and a wisecracking brunette named Irma, were just assigned an after school detention which didn't appear to be too out of the norm for them.
Afterwards, they both expressed their apologies for getting me caught up in their trouble, which, as luck would have it, ended up contributing towards my second tardy of the day.
In fact, probably the only good thing that came out of today was Taranee. I was delighted when I saw her already seated in my English class. The same happened in my PE period, as well, and she was more than happy to listen to my woeful tales when I spotted her seated next to a tree at lunch. She told me about how her teacher gave her the third degree when she was late this morning, too, and about her ordeal with a gang of bullies messing with her bike. According to her, if it weren't for this uber popular blondie stepping up, she'd be looking for a ride home. "It was like Cornelia was a superhero fending off a bunch of bad guys with the way she struck her heroic pose and her hair was blowing in the wind behind her." The way she described it still makes me laugh.
Then again, I suppose Taranee wasn't the only good thing about today. There was that simple incident in the hallway when I was racing to my art class and I crashed into what could have very well been the most gorgeous hunk of boy flesh in America. Wavy brown hair, bright blue eyes, a loosely trimmed chin of stubble that looked like it came from some boy band in LA. I hardly noticed when he smiled down at me, muttered something or other about an apology, and politely continued on his way. In fact, come to think of it, I don't even think I said sorry, either! I just stood there like a lovesick sack of potatoes, as Taranee so eloquently put it. A million and one flirty things I could have said, and yet not one even crossed my mind as I watched him disappear around the corner. I was absolutely disgusted with myself.
But, when all was said and done, I still have one word to describe my first day at school- exhausting! And I haven't even gotten to the mad villager part, yet!
Anyway, we're getting to that, so just be patient.
I jiggled my keys and opened the door to our apartment, took one look at the box fest, then moved to collapse on the couch. Slinging my arm over my eyes, I let out a nice, long groan to no one in particular. Mom already said she wouldn't be home until later that night, so it was just me and the frogs.
"I think," I said aloud, "that with all the ordeals I went through today, I'm more than deserving of a quick nap."
Forget homework and tardy slips and bullies. I thought I deserved a medal of some sort for getting through my first day. But after I yawned and snuggled down more comfortably, I decided that I would settle for a nap and get that medal later.
Now that I think about it… I should have waited for the medal.
I still remember how freaky that dream was that I had. I was in the middle of this storm, drowning in the water, and for whatever reason, completely naked. Well, except for this pink light that my body seemed to radiate. I looked positively radioactive. And as the water continued swirling over my head, I saw my lips moved. I called out something, but I wasn't sure what it was.
Whatever I called, it seemed to respond. The light around me began to pulse, almost like a heartbeat. I could feel that pulse even through my dream-fevered sleep, as if it were a second heart beating next to my own. As my body continued sinking down into the dark water, I saw myself curl up within the protective cocoon of the pink light, its pulsing still steady and strong. And then, out of my cocoon came-
Don't you hate it when you have a really interesting dream that gets interrupted by you waking up? I felt that way as I started to stir, frowning and groaning even while my eyes were still closed.
And for once, I didn't hear the annoying ring of my alarm clock tearing my out of my delicious sleep. This confused me until I remembered that I fell asleep on the couch. Which… actually, continued to confuse me because I didn't feel like I was lying on the couch. Did I roll off in my sleep? Was that what woke me up?
I pushed myself up into a sitting position as I stretched my arms over my head, yawning nonstop. Finally, I dropped my arms enough to rub one eye while the other opened slowly…
…to a wall of pink.
That snorted rather indignantly.
"AHHHH!" I squealed, putting my arms and feet in motion as I scrambled backward, eyes wide. What in the world was a pig doing in our apartment!? A pig with… purple horns… and three eyes?
"EEEEEK!"
The pig-like-thing squealed in response to my scream before spinning around and running toward the safety of the other three-eyed pigs, all of them staring at me warily.
I screamed again and tried to back up some more but bumped into something rather hard and unyielding. When I turned over my shoulder, I realized it was the post of a wooden fence. My eyes widened in shock as I slowly moved my head around, trying to take everything in at once. What I thought was the fuzzy down of the couch leather was really fine sand and dirt. The fence wound all the way around behind the herd of alien pigs in a rectangular fashion. I was… I was in a… a pigpen!
I screamed yet again, continuously this time as my head darted around, looking at the farmhouse beyond the pig pen, the forest, the tiny little hatched houses all around the place. I just kept screaming with every new sight I saw. The pile of hay in the corner got a scream. The wooden cart next to the farmhouse got a scream. The giant rooster-looking thing attached to it actually got a confused pause before a series of screams.
In fact, only one thing actually got me to stop screaming.
A voice.
"Hey! Who's in there? Show yerself!"
The voice sounded deep and gruff, definitely scary enough to warrant my silence. I glanced around quickly before spotting a short, rectangular box that I guessed would have served as the pig's feeding trough. With wobbling legs, I scrambled to the other side and ducked down behind it, tucking my head under my arms.
This is just a dream. This is just a dream. This is just a dream. This is just a dream. This is-
Heavy footsteps plodded through the sand, close enough for me to tell that its owner was inside the pigpen. It crooned softly to calm the squealing pigs before stepping closer. I squeezed my eyes shut and prayed to wake up now.
This is just a dream. This is just a creepy creepy dream. It's only a dream. Just a dream. I'm going to wake up any moment and-
"Hey! What are you doing back here?"
My eyes snapped opened and my head reared back. Oh man, if I thought those pigs were weird, they were nothing compared to this guy! He looked like a lizard dressed as Farmer Brown but with slitted gold eyes and a raspy breath. Sweat rolled down his beady green skin and his pink tongue slithered out of his mouth to taste the air… or to taste me.
I let out my longest, loudest scream yet before I suddenly found myself on my feet and running. Of course, this was just a dream, so it wasn't really as if I was running for my life or anything. But running is just one of those things people do in dreams. It's nice and metaphorical.
But anyway, back to the running and the Godzilla Farmer Brown. I jumped over the pigpen fence in one fantastic leap and kept going down the dusty road that led away from the farmhouse. I heard the farmer shouting behind me as he slowly climbed over the fence (I think his tail got in the way), but I didn't dare look back. For someone who absolutely hated track and field, I was booking it down that road, trying not to look at the utterly unfamiliar landscape around me.
Other weird-looking people were watching me as I sped past them. Some of them were similar to the farmer guy with reptilian features and peasant clothing. Others looked even stranger, like this group of four or five with blue faces and stone-like spikes atop their baldheads, men and women alike. Some were riding more of those giant roosters like horses, pulling at the rope reigns long enough to stare at me as I ran by.
Finally, when my lungs felt like they were going to burst (very realistic for a dream, might I add), I darted into a small crevice in between two thatched buildings and collapsed on the ground, gasping for air. Loud whisperings floated down to me from the street about the strange human girl with the unusual clothing but I ignored it all in favor of lying on my side and curling in ball, weeping and begging for this dream… no, this nightmare to finally end.
I didn't even realize I fell asleep (who knew you could fall asleep in dreams?) until I woke up later. I jumped, startled, when something like a rat with yellow fur ran past my nose, but when I sat up and looked around, I remembered my weird dream and realized I must still be in the middle of it. I sighed and hugged my legs to my chest, staring at the small gap facing the street. The light had dimmed considerably, so I must have been out for hours. My mind kept on jumping back to my psychology class I had back in Fallon Hills about how dreams occur in real time. If I were really asleep in the dream for hours, then how long had I been asleep in the real world? Was I in a coma? Was that why I couldn't wake up?
The fact that being in a coma explained far too much of what was going on didn't comfort me in the least bit. It didn't help that my stomach was gurgling angrily. I hadn't eaten since that turkey sandwich at lunch with Taranee. The thought of Taranee and Sheffield Institute and my froggy alarm clock had suddenly swept me into a haze of sadness. What if I really was in a coma? What will Mom do when she sees me sprawled out over the couch, probably drooling all over myself? Would she think I was just napping? That I was going to wake up any second? Would I ever wake up?
The scurrying of another rat (or possibly the same one) woke me up enough to sigh and pull myself to my feet, if a bit wearily. If I was in a coma, which I was seriously believing I was, then I had to go about getting up. Maybe people in comas dreamed up strange worlds like this one. It's not like I've ever known a comatose person enough to ask them. But if that were the case, then I had to do something about my growling stomach. Maybe if I ate dream food, my brain would convince my stomach it was real. It was already doing a good job of all my other senses- I could feel the goose bumps on my skin as a cool evening breeze swept through the alleyway, and the smell certainly seemed realistic enough. If my brain could convince the rest of my body that this place was real, then it could hopefully do the same thing with some imaginary food.
Cautiously, I peeked my head out from the alleyway, looking up and down the street for pedestrians. Good, no one in sight. But I did spot something else- my backpack. Or at least, something that looked a lot like it. The brown leather bag sat on a table surrounded with other satchels and things of the sort. The sight of my little frog keychain sticking out of one of the pockets had me convinced. If that was my backpack, then my wallet would be in there! And where there's a wallet, there's money. And where there's money, there's food!
I was so enthralled at the sight of a familiar object that I practically burst out of the alleyway, racing across the street to the table. My fingers brushed the frog keychain fondly before I opened the bag and peered in it. Good, it looked like all my stuff was still in there! My wallet, my sweatshirt, my textbooks… I seriously considered ditching those, but I zipped up the bag and slung it over my shoulder anyway. The more normal things I had around me, the less likely I figured I'd go crazy. Some people have been in comas for years. Granted, they normally were in crazy car accidents first, but I didn't want to take any chances. Who knew how long I'd end up in this weird place?
I had hardly taken three steps away from the table when yet another voice was calling after me.
"Hey! Stop right there!"
I spun around to find a creature with scaly bags of skin bulging over every surface of her face. Or his face. Whatever it was looked like it had three sets of cheeks stacked on top of each other and its small black bead eyes were set on me in a fierce glower. "I hope you intend on paying for that," it growled, pointing a clawed finger at my bag.
I blinked once, glanced at my bag, then back at the… uh, creature. "What, this?" I replied, lifting my bag. "But this is mine. See?" I pointed to the front of the bag where the name 'Will' was scrawled in silver sharpie ink.
The thing ignored the evidence in favor of holding out its hand (which I was alarmed to discover only had three fingers!). "Enough lies, child. I found that thing lying unattended in the woods. You aren't walking away from here with that unless you pay!"
This time I blinked in surprise and frowned with just the slightest bit of irritation. "I'm not going to pay for my own bag! This is my dream and I say this is my bag!"
"Fine!" the thing shouted, fisting a hand in my bag. "If you can't pay for it then you can't have it!"
"Let me go you disgusting toad!" I exclaimed jerking away from him just enough to free my bag and take off in the opposite direction.
"Hey, someone stop her! She stole my merchandise!" he cried, and before I knew it, over half a dozen monsters appeared out of nowhere and started chasing me down the street.
And… well, this was where we started from, now, wasn't it?
