A.N: I just have been bouncing this idea around in my head and needed to write this down. See how you like it.
The Machines rose from the ashes of the nuclear fire.
Their war to exterminate mankind had raged for decades.
But the final battle would not be fought in the bleak and desolate future,
It would be fought here
.
.
.
Tonight
In Los Angeles, at night, a garbage truck pulled up to a dumpster. Intent on getting his job done, the man behind the wheel inserted his truck's lifters into the side of the dumpster and he began to lift the garbage container up.
However, halfway through, his truck's engine abruptly died.
"What the?"
The man fiddled with the key and the controls, seeing if he could restart it, he couldn't. But his attention was quickly stolen by a strange event that began to happen outside his vehicle. What looked like large forks of lighting were arcing out, centralized over one point. The lighting grew larger and larger, as well as more violent.
The man, who already felt he wasn't getting paid enough, left his truck and scurried away, too frightened to stay and watch whatever was happening.
The lightning finally reached its peak and something fell out of the point in the air that it was centralized over. Having done its job, the lightning faded away, but the object remained.
Upon further inspection, one could see that the object was apparently a hedgehog, midnight black with red eyes and red highlights to his quills. He was bent over in a perfect kneeling position as he arrived. Now that he had, he straightened up slowly, almost mechanically and walked over to a ledge. Before him sprawled Los Angeles in all of its nighttime glory.
But it held no beauty for him, he had a mission and he immediately set off on it.
3 punks, only about 17 years old were messing around with a public telescope when they saw the black hedgehog. The teens were obviously vandals, not just judging by their treatment of public property, but even by their looks, dying their quills and spiking them up in unnatural formations that they thought looked cool.
The hedgehog was striding towards them, not pausing, nor was he taking his eyes off them. It walked up to them and surveyed them in a calculating stare.
"What you looking at?" the oldest of the punks said aggressively.
"What year is it?" the voice was monotonous, lacking in any emotion.
"What year is it, he asks" the leader snickered. He then whipped out a switchblade, his gang followed suit.
"How's about I carve the year into your flesh!"
The black hedgehog moved faster than all three hedgehogs combined. His left and right arms lashed out and slammed into two of the young boys. They stumbled back as their leader thrust his switchblade into the chest of the hedgehog. The hedgehog didn't yell, or grunt, or even flinch as the blade sank into the sole white frill of hair on his chest, right over where his heart should've been.
Instead, his arm shot up and slammed into the boy's chest with such force, that the youth was killed instantly. The hedgehog withdrew his arm and it was slick with blood.
The other two, seeing this, grew white with fright and scurried off.
The black hedgehog took a moment to survey his work. Then he moved on, continuing his methodical search.
Further into the city, another similar even was taking place. Arcs of lightning were firing around in an alleyway. When these sparks had reached their zenith, another hedgehog was deposited out of it.
This hedgehog however, had several differences to the first. For one thing his fur color was blue. For another, he hadn't exited gracefully; instead he'd landed on his side and looked to be very sore from the whole ordeal. He groaned and pushed himself to his feet, wobbling slightly.
Then, after finding his balance, he took off down the alleyway. But once he reached the end, he was brought up short by a police car that pulled up. The officer, who had apparently seen the large flash of light, was getting out of his car when the blue hedgehog turned around and made a dash.
"Hey you! Stop!"
The Policeman gave chase. The blue hedgehog disappeared around a corner. The policeman drew his gun, but this proved to be a mistake for as soon as he rounded the corner he was attacked, and the gun was wrenched out of his hand. He was forced against the wall as the blue hedgehog pointed the gun in his face.
"What year is it!?"
"What?"
"What year is it!?"
The question wasn't to be answered as another police car pulled up and the hedgehog took off running again.
The police chased him to a clothing store that was closed for the night. They followed him in, never thinking to post a guard in the entrance. This would have been a prudent measure as the hedgehog swung himself down from the balcony on the second floor once everyone was gone. Before he ran again, he reached into the police vehicle and grabbed a shotgun. He'd also gained a large gray trenchcoat which he quickly hit the shotgun under.
He hurried away then, before the police returned. After he'd put some fair distance between himself and the police, he stopped at a telephone box. He quickly got out the phone book and opened it to the "R" section for last names.
His finger slid down the list past names like Ray, Renald, and Robert, until it came to rest on one name.
Rose. Amy Rose.
He tore the page out of the book and hurried off to find the address.
The next morning, an entirely normal sight greeted the city. A girl in a red dress rode a small electronic scooter to work. She worked as a waitress in a burger shack. She was average looking, nothing about her seemed to make her special. Admittedly to some she might seem a little pretty, but not drop-dead gorgeous.
She punched in her card and the name read "Amy Rose." Then she went and got her uniform on as she began her work day.
She had no idea how much her life would change in the coming time. Or how special she was.