YEAH! The first chapter of my "major" story is finally up! Ok,not exactly the first chapter but what the heck. I know I told some of you that this won't be published I'm done with 'Surprise',but I can't HELP IT! I need to scrape out some ideas for 'Surprise'. That and 'Visit from Home' is being stalled thanks to the low supply of storylines. *GASP* Haha ok, back to this. This is the story I've thought of for over a month. It's gonna be a sort of "trial" run. When the entire story's published, I'll check it over and finalise it. Yay, let it BEGIN!
Disclaimer: Blinx and all related concepts (characters,locations etc) are owned by Artoon and Microsoft. Materials not within the Blinx franchise are rightfully mine, including Scamp, Harris, members of the fictional Chippinski family and certain characters in this story. The short excerpt in italics are lyrics from the song "Always There" from Disney's 'Lady and the Tramp 2'
Always there to warm you in the winter
Always there with shelter from the rain
Always there to catch you when you're falling
Always there to stand you up again…
The tom tripped and fell forward, stopping face-first into a bush. He grumbled for a moment, wishing he had watched where he walked. He sighed heavily, knowing that he couldn't do anything to reverse it… well, not anymore that is. He made several attempts to get up, but failed each time. He groaned. What was he going to do now? Lie here and wait for someone to rob him? Or maybe lie here, and wait for daylight to come and all those passer-by to stare at him? Then he saw a figure some distance away from him, seemingly rushing towards his area. Ok, he shouldn't have thought about that. The tom tried getting up again, but this time, a thorn from the bush stuck him in his already-ripped ear. For the second time in less than 5 minutes, he groaned. Now, he'd rather wait for whoever the figure was to come.
The figure came closer, and its features became more recognizable with each step it took. The tom smiled a bit and sat up.
"Need help?" the figure asked, extending a hand. It was another tomcat like him. He had grey fur with black-tipped ears and blue eyes. "I don't think you can get up with an injury like that."
"Yeah? Whatever you say, Harris," the tom who had fallen replied. He knew who the grey tom was: his cousin Harris Chippinski. With Harris' aid, the tom managed to get back to his feet. "What are you doing here anyway?"
Harris glanced back the way he came, muttering, "It's snowing heavily and you're off wandering some ways from the house. Mom won't like it if she knew."
The tom huffed, starting in the direction where he was walking earlier. As he walked, Harris couldn't help but notice how the tom was limping heavily on his right leg. He winced, the memory of what his cousin told him back at home flooding into his mind. The injury he sustained hadn't been tended to immediately when it was inflicted, resulting in some of its damage to remain in his leg. And it was also the reason why the tomcat couldn't get up by himself earlier on. Harris was busy thinking, that he didn't realize the tom looking back at him. "Harris? What is it?" he inquired, limping back to Harris.
"Huh? Oh, nothing... just thinking about your limp, that's all," Harris answered despite the strong chilly wind that blew between them. He wasn't looking at the tom; rather he was looking at the snowy ground. He was feeling uneasy at the moment, because he actually came here for a different purpose. But, knowing the tom before him pretty well, it wasn't that easy to come straight to the point. The tom, however, knew something was up. "Harris, I know you're hiding something. Say it," he said.
Harris dared himself to look at the tom eye-to-eye. He raised his head, fastening his eyes to the fiery amber of the tom's. Great… I don't feel comfortable even more… he thought. The tom's eyes were unwavering, and they were urging him to continue his words. Harris finally gave in. "They called… they want you to come back," he admitted.
The tom remained silent, taking in what Harris had said slowly. Unexpectedly, he jeered. "No, I will not go back."
Harris was immediately at the tom's side, small beads of tears rolling down his fur and grasping the tom's arm. "But you have to go back! They're your friends; friends that had helped you survive that agonizing mission. Please, just comply with what they say and go back to the Factory!" Harris blurted. He clapped a free hand over his mouth, cursing himself for he just said.
"I. Will. Not," the tom seethed. He pulled his arm free from Harris' grip and stormed off, even with his limp.
"But it was your duty! Your duty as a Time Sweeper! You promised to do whatever it takes to keep the flow of time going, even if cost you more than you wanted. Where did that go? What happened to you? Why are you abandoning the same cats who helped you out of your demise? Why? Why are you not the same Chippinski we met years ago? Why…. SCAMP!" Harris howled over the raging wind. His voice echoed around the deserted park, swelling in the ears of those within the boundaries of the park.
The tom stopped in his tracks, the one noun ringing in his ears. He turned back to Harris' direction, to find his cousin on his knees, the small tears reflecting the silver moonlight. But it wasn't the sight of his cousin weeping that shocked him. It was the fact that Harris cried out his name so desperately. Why… Just why is so desperate to make me go back? He queried himself. He approached the grey tom, now more inquisitive on why his cousin was really here. As he got closer, he could hear Harris muttering incoherently.
"Why is it that you refuse to go back? Why Scamp? Why don't you want to go back?"
"So that's it… you don't know why," Scamp mewled. Harris almost fell backwards; never realizing that his cousin had came back and was now so close ahead of him. He looked up, squinting against the snow-carrying wind to see Scamp. He knew he had to say something; something that could indicate to his cousin that he wanted to know the events. But as he thought about, very little words came into his mind. "I don't," was all he could utter. He bit his lip, cursing himself yet again for making himself sound like a fool. But he knew Scamp would never look at him that way. He would never look at any of his family members that way (except Hisser that is. Man, I hate that furball). Scamp was expressionless, until he held out a hand to Harris. "Maybe it's about time I told you…" he whispered grimly.
They walked down the snow-covered path, keeping quiet most of the way until Harris spotted a bench a little ways off. He gestured to the bench, where Scamp could only nod.
"You know my duty as a Time Sweeper, right? As you said before, we have to do whatever it takes to maintain the smooth time flow. Even if it would cost more than I expected… including a life," Scamp began, settling himself on the bench. He watched the snowflakes fall and land calmly at the tip of his nose, sending a small twinge of cold up hi s muzzle.
"What happened had nothing much to do with time, however. It was more of a problem in one particular world. Before that, there were other problems prevailing, one leading to the next, and the next leading to the following. Conflict, casualties, betrayals…" Scamp trailed off, remembering the one battle that he was vaguely describing. If it hadn't been for that battle, life would have been what it was before and he wouldn't have all this marks on him. "Betrayals… it changed almost everything I knew... everything the Time Factory knew."
Harris nodded knowingly, noticing how lost his cousin looked. "But, Mom said something about that traitor becoming your saviour? Well… the Sweepers' saviour, I mean."
"She's right. If it wasn't for him, I wouldn't live through that ordeal. But he wouldn't have done so if I hadn't shown him that anything could happen."
"Okay, then. So… why do you not wanna go back?" Harris repeated his question, this time with more caution. He was both eager and afraid to know what Scamp was about to tell him.
Scamp turned to face him; the green eyes suddenly tout with seriousness. "Many reasons to be said, but I will have to start from the beginning of all the problems."
Harris adjusted his jacket collar, ensuring the cold wind won't bite his neck while he listened. "Go on."
"It all started when I returned from a mission…"
This marks the end of the prologue, the beginning of a great adventure and the start of a painful memory. Pls R&R, thank you! Don't expect me to update as often as this! The school term is about to open! *packs bags for runaway*