What I like about this is that I didn't make anyone a real bad guy. Both of the main characters are a bad guy or a good guy at some point in the reading (though it may not seem that way in just this first chapter), so read on.
The title doesn't make sense now, but it's significance will become apparent over time. I was gonna post this in looooong chapters, but I decided to post it in short or medium sized chapters to increase the amount of cliff hangers I can throw upon you all! ::insert evil laugh here::. This will probably be the longest chapter.
MANY THANKS to my beta reader, Amethyst Soul. Without her, this fic would be really disgusting, I'm serious. She's coaching me in the ways of the Invader Zim fan fic world ^^. Check out some of her fan fics, wontcha?
Read and enjoy!
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Mockingbird
The soft winter rain fell down upon the desolate land. Small, withered shrubs and broken buildings lay upon the ground as far as the eye could see. Countless pieces of rusted wire poked out from the chunks of cement that were once apartments and stores. A brick would occasionally fall from a hill of garbage to the ash-covered surface below, creating a cloud of dust upon its arrival.
This was what had become of the city.
Out in what used to be the suburbs, a few solitary homes lay damaged beyond repair yet still remained standing. The few brave, lucky souls that had survived the horrible tragedy still dwelled there, scrounging for all that was useful, becoming the very rats that they had looked down upon when they were the high and mighty human race.
The sky was dark and surreal. More clouds began to roll in, filled with rain. It was as if the heavens were attempting to wash away the grief and sorrow of past events; yet the pain, misery, and loss only seemed to grow, as if as if every cold, hard drop of water was acid.
A small, obscure green house stood at the end of a cul-de-sac. It was untouched by the force that destroyed all else, but stood decaying with age. The garden gnomes still stood erect on the brown patches of grass. A white, tattered flag with the words 'I love Earth' hung on it's pole, pitifully attempting to wave with the wind.
A tall, thin, nineteen year old boy stood outside of this house, brown eyes narrowed behind glasses held together with layers upon layers of masking tape. A hatred emanated from his thin body. With every breath small clouds of steam came from his mouth. The tails of his black trenchcoat fluttered in the wind. Hands balled into tight fists at his side, knuckles white, he glared at the construction before him.
This was the house that started it all. The house of horrors, of rage, of passion; the house that once held the now most feared figure on all of Earth. It held bad memories for the boy, memories more personal than for all the rest, even more than for the life form that had once inhabited it.
Dib felt a hard tug at his coat, abruptly taking him away from his childhood. He turned to glare at the intruder, but his pallid face softened when he found it was his sister.
"Dib, let's get away from this house," she said, her tone indicating a strange sense of urgency.
He gave a nod of acknowledgment.
Gaz, with the promise of the departure from the haunted street, relaxed. Her heavily lidded, half-shut eyes portrayed a sense of deep torment that disturbed Dib deep inside. He shuddered and shook the feeling off, playfully tousling her hair, which was damp from the rain. She pulled away in disgust at his 'mushy' action. He smiled at this small comfort, this one thing unchanged by time. There was still a part of the old Gaz there.
She turned and began to walk down the abandoned street towards their home, Dib close behind. They had both grown over the long years, physically, mentally, and in maturity.
Dib spotted a few people rustling through the tons of debris, searching for anything of use. He felt pity for them and was thankful that his family recieved monthly staples from the government. It wasn't much, but enough to keep them from becoming 'trash-diggers' as the people who did so were now called.
The prominent shade of the neighborhood, which had once been so full of vibrant colors, was now gray. An occasional spot of green grass would appear, only to wilt with the dust-filled air and lack of sunlight. There were always clouds in the sky now, because the High Invader wanted it to be so. Cities that were attempted to be rebuilt were destroyed immediately, because he despised human achievement. His every whim and fancy was begun, then constructed in the blink of an eye ... for he was the High Invader.
He was a plague, taking over the planet. Each ground he set eye or foot upon was gone with a single word uttered from his mouth. Any person who dared to stand up to him was destroyed in a screaming death.
Eventually, none challenged him, not even his own kind. He was the High Invader. That was as simple as the explanation went.
No one questioned the High Invader...
... questioned and lived anyway.
---
Zim drummed his black, gloved fingers upon the armrest of his chair. Through his eyes, he saw the many faces of his Irken soldiers, bustling back and forth, trying to look busy.
Green buttons glowed in the dark of the spaceship. Various knobs of different shapes and sizes made irritating snapping noises as they were twisted right and left. The constant low mumbles of various conversations and the beeps of buttons being pushed were heard all over the station.
The monotony of his life was hideous, there wasn't challenge to it anymore. Even the once 'Almighty' Tallest were bent against his will. So much as one glare from him would send the bravest Irken screaming and running in the other direction.
Knobs were twisted and levers were pulled with just a gesture of his hand. Cities were destroyed with a single command. People were executed whenever he ordered it so.
His name was everywhere, there was no person not aware of who he was. The single utterance of it made any officer shiver, and any Earthling cower.
Yet, they were words used often in the vocabulary of both Irk and Earth people in the same sense. It was used as a curse word.
'The High Invader'.
Protest against him? The thought was not even dormant in the slightest crevices of anyone's mind, Irken or Human. Not that Zim knew anyway.
Well, all but one...
"Now approaching the planet Earth." came the mechanical voice of the computer. Zim turned the outside vision screen on. Earth sat, a tiny speck in the midst of the black of space.
Yes, this was the planet. The one he had saved for last. All the other planets were conquered or destroyed easily. Most didn't even know about the Irkens, and those who did were not prepared for an armada the size of Zim's.
Planet Earth knew of the Armada, and of it's ruler, for not only was it going to be the last, but had been the first of Zim's victories.
He had pounded it to the ground in the Earth year 2111: destroyed all of it's cities, eliminated all leaders and forms of government, took away all order, kept only few natural resources avaliable, and then moved on, leaving Earth to wallow in what was left of their planet. He left them to think the danger was over; that they would see no more of the Irken race.
But he had planned to return.
For many a year, he organized his ideas on how to make the humans suffer more and more. His thoughts on this grew increasingly twisted as time went on. They gave him great pleasure in his dreams; dreams of panic, of terror, and the scent of burning human flesh.
It was the one scent he could tolerate on the filthy planet.
The earthlings would feel the misery which he himself had felt on their planet so long ago. The misery which they had dealt through the hands of their 'educated' scholars. They sealed their fate the moment they allowed Zim's mortal enemy to lock him in that horrible room. The moment they allowed their thick-minded 'scientists' to touch him with their soiled hands, and their stupid 'researchers' to examine him with their clouded eyes.
But, in all this formulation of conquering notions and imagined horrors, there remained one goal fresh in his mind:
One human would suffer ten, no, ONE HUNDRED, times more than the rest. This human was not good enough for just death, oh no, he did not deserve that. This human would feel pain. Yes: give him pain until he begged for mercy. Zim could just see the face of his enemy: twisting in agony, dirty sweat forming on his brow, nails digging into his palms.
Zim reveled in the fancied screams of this particular member of the human race; it was the very fuel which kept him going through the dreary days.
Seeing this human undergo such torture would be Zim's greatest victory.
The time for revenge was near.
"Run, little stink beast: scamper away, you ball of filth," Zim hissed. "I am coming for you..."
---
A sharp shake brought Dib from dreams of warmth and steaming cups of cocoa to the cold air of an accustomed reality.
"Wake up Dib, it's Christmas," said his father from beside him.
Dib turned over to lie on his back, reaching for his glasses in vain. he squinted at his father in the out-of-focus room.
Membrane had grown weak as well. His eyes didn't radiate that sense of importance anymore. The feeling of security that Dib had always come to rely on had vanished from his figure, leaving a gaping hole in it's disappearance. His shoulders sagged; his lab coat was fraying with age and wear. He was an ordinary man now, not the once famous 'Professor Membrane'.
Dib sat up as his father walked down the creaking stairs.
Someone came out of Gaz's room, rubbing the sleep from their eyes. Dib's heart gave a large leap in his chest. This person was...
Dib frantically searched the floor, as the entire world was blurry without his glasses.
He found them near his pillow and shoved them on. Gaz's face came in to focus, with her 'what are you looking at?!' glare pointed in his direction. Her long, violet hair reached to just above her waist, and a black dress hung loosely upon her tall figure. She continued after her father down the old set of stairs.
Dib stared at her retreating figure, crestfallen. For a moment, when she had emerged from the room, he thought he had seen his mother again.
Gaz looked painfully like their mom. He could always see the glazed look his father got when he saw Gaz come into a room. But, like always, Professor Membrane tore the memories of his wife from his mind, as if it were a sin to think of her.
Dib shook his head and thought himself a fool. His mother was long gone, having died giving birth to Gaz years and years ago.
Dib stretched his arms high and yawned heavily, stalling for time, reluctant to leave his nice warm bed for the cold world outside of the covers.
"DIB! Hurry up!" Professor Membrane agiatatedly yelled up the stairs.
Dib sighed and yelled back. "I'M COMING!"
He slipped out of his sheets unwillingly.
His teeth chattered as he made his way down into the living room. A sparse evergreen sat in the farthest corner, decorated with a single short string of lights. A few candy canes hung on the branches of the tree, making them sag with the weight.
The gifts were in old, yellowing newspaper. Pictures of smiling people peeked out from beneath the folds of the makeshift wrapping paper.
The sounds of an arising squabble filled the room.
Dib's father stood in the corner opposite the tree, engaged in the middle a heated argument with Gaz, who was in the opposite corner of her dad. She was only slightly shorter than Professor Membrane, and Dib already matched him in height.
Dib snuck the rest of the way down the stairs and stood with his back near the door.
Professor Membrane argued. "You're so irresponsible! Why, if your mother were alive-"
"WELL, SHE'S NOT!" Gaz screamed. "I'm SICK of you always comparing me to her, as if I were some kind of clone, as if I were doing it all wrong! Well, guess what?! I'M NOT!!! I'M NOT HER! She's dead, Dad! Don't you think I miss her too?! I HATE THIS! I HATE THIS LIFE! Why'd it have to be this way?!"
There was a long, uncomfortable silence, then Gaz's tone softened to longing whisper. "It's the year 2114, right? I'm eighteen: I could have been driving now. I know that sounds stupid, but I could have. When I think of all the things I could be doing if it weren't for what happened to this world-"
Dib slowly shook his head back and forth, trying not to hear Gaz's words. He couldn't help but think if it was all his fault. If the entire Earth's current state of wreckage would have been helped if only he had been more careful...
"I could have made something of myself." Gaz continued. Professor Membrane was silent; he looked down at the floor. Dib covered his ears in an effort to try and drown out her voice. She sighed. "Everyone could've. I can't help but wonder how it would've turned out, how the earth would be now. Would humanity have eaten itself up, with it's gobbling of natural resources and waste spilling? Or would it have been different, some kind of utopian society?
"But now it's all gone, we'll never know how it could have been," Small opalescent tears that had begun to form in the corners of her eyes now trickled down her face. She paused, trying to regain her composure.
Dib squeezed his own eyes shut. He had never seen Gaz cry before. He opened them again in realization. She was crying. Oh god.
She took a short intake of breath and continued in a shaky voice. "It was all gone... gone from the time Zim escaped..."
This was too much for Dib. He turned around and fumbled blindly for the doorknob, tears running thickly his eyes. He found it and twisted it violently. A cold rush of air came from the outside, sending a chilling breeze through the room. The christmas tree bent with the sudden wind, and a few candy canes fell.
Dib turned once more, his ragged breath coming out from his mouth in hot puffs of steam.
He looked at his father, old and weary, a mere shadow of the great man he had once been. He had changed so much... changed too much.
Dib then looked at his sister. She sat, her eyes staring blankly at her hands in her lap. Her face was pale and in an unreadable expression. She too, seemed old; too old for her body. The chaos and poverty had worn her down to this. This leftover piece of what she had been eight years ago: what she was before the reign of doom Zim had cast upon the planet. Dib couldn't stand to see her. Looking at her, he couldn't even remember how she was before being this scrap of her former self.
Were all the horrible changes because of him? Was it his fault that these people were so weak? So vulnerable? Could he have prevented this depression? This time of darkness, the downfall of the human race... was it his fault?
Dib stepped back a few paces into the rain-filled street.
It was all his fault, it was all his fault.
He stood in his state of mixed emotions.
Horror. Fear. Guilt.
Gaz raised her eyes to meet Dib's.
What he saw there, no words could describe.
He didn't know what to do, couldn't know what to do.
So he ran.
He ran through all the abandoned alleyways. He ran through the wreckage of apartments; through decaying restaurants- and he had flashes. Flashes of people, gone with the light of laser weapons. People, screaming in the streets, holding bloody limbs and dead corpses. Crying, screaming, and yelling in anger, despair, and fear. Chaos all over the city. Blood. Ashes. Fire and smoke.
Death in every corner of existence...
Dib was brought back into reality, and the present, with a sharp snap as he ran straight into the locked front door of a building.
He gritted his teeth and rubbed his head, cursing his stupidity. Then he opened his eyes and gasped at what he saw.
This was the building. The one he had imprisoned Zim in ages and ages ago...
It was an extremely ironic twist of fate. He had been trying to run away from his present, and had ran straight into his past.
---
"Welcome the ALMIGHTYYYYYY TALLESTSSSS!"
A mighty roar came from the crowd. Red and Purple descended on a platform not unlike the one used for The Great Assigning. They waved and shot arrogant glances at the mass of bodies. Thick smoke filled the room, making a few of the cheering supporters stop to cough. Red smirked.
"I told you the smoke machines were a bad idea." he said so only Purple could hear.
"Oh, shut up." Purple said in defense.
The hovering platform then came to the ground with a dull thud.
"People of Irk!" Red began, raising his arms high. This small action got screams of excitement. "We are your rulers, the Almighty Tallests-"
"But!" interrupted Purple. Red shot him a venomous look.
"But lately-" he continued "-our powers have been challenged by a horrible Invader! Surely you all remember the blundering fool who has thought himself great enough to proclaim himself better than yours truly."
"Ahem." coughed Purple.
"Oh, and him too." Red said in monotone, jerking a single finger towards his counterpart.
"He is currently on a mission for his own personal benefit!" said Purple. "He is attempting to conquer Earth to serve his deepest desire: to kill his own enemy! He abandoned all of you good citizens for ONE LIFEFORM! I tell you, is that fair? Taking half of the Irken military for one lousy planet?!"
"Hey," Red cut in. "You did that once for that place you wanted to make into a huge Bed and Breakfast. I think it's called Bed-n-Breakfast-ia."
Purple scowled at him.
Seeing his chance, Red jumped in. "Dear friends, is this what you want? Your own leader abandoning you for another species? That is why Purple and myself wish for you to help up in our uprising against the evil, maniacal, selfish, rude, insignificant, idiotic, stupid, hypocritical, unworthy, uneducated, low, crude, unbearable, unimportant, rebellious, jester-like, foolish, intolerable, HIGH INVADER!"
Cheers of agreement rang throughout the halls. A low chant began: "Death to the High Invader, death to the High Invader, death to the High Invader..."
Red and Purple exchanged victorious glances as the platform which held them began to rise into the upper chamber. Yells of encouragement followed them.
"I told you they'd buy it." said Red.
Purple smiled in agreement. "Now the rise back into power should be a cinch."
"Yeah, and when we get Zim, we can take Earth and change it into a giant Nacho-serving planet."
"Hey! Curly fries are way better!"
"Nuh-uh. Earth is a nacho planet. It's just so... nacho-y looking to me."
Purple crossed his arms and pouted. "Oh, ok, Earth can be the Nacho planet, but the next planet we conquer has to be the Curly Fry one."
---
A small figure wandered aimlessly down the dark abandoned alleyways, humming a soft song.
The stranger walked back and forth in a drunken-like manner, singing the same haunting word over and over again: "Doom, doom, doom..."
After many rough encounters with the side brick walls, he finally made his way from the shadow into the bright moonlight, where his features were revealed.
It was a SIR unit. His eyes were a light turquoise, his body a light gray. Tightly clutched in his left hand was a dirty and heavily worn rubber pig.
"Where's Master?" he sniffled. Small tears were in his eyes, threatening to drop with every blink. He wiped them away with his free hand, hiccuping with the effort of retaining sobs.
"Where'd you go? Why'd you leave? Why'd you have to change?! I miss you so much... why'd you leave me?!
... why...?"
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to be continued... (please review)