Fears and Lies
He stepped into a world he couldn't recognize. There was a strong mist surrounding the platform, obscuring his vision. He looked down at his feet, and saw dirt, moist but not muddy. It didn't matter though; the only thing that mattered was the smell. It was the only thing he could easily identify, and it smelled horrible, like…
"Rotten Flesh, it smells like rotten flesh!"
The mist began to clear, not dissipating completely, but enough to show him where he was. He was standing in a cold graveyard, tombstones stretching in neat little rows for miles. He wasn't alone; there was a woman there with him. He easily recognized her blond hair, flowing down to her shoulders, her sky blue eyes which matched his own, and the robe she had on was colored to match. It was the robe she had on the night she died.
"Mom, how are you… how is it… what are you doing here?"
"Son," she barely managed to whisper, her voice in pain, "why did you leave me?"
Andrew rushed forward, and embraced her. "I'm sorry mom, I didn't mean to!" He was beginning to cry on her shoulder now, like he had wished he could for over a year. "I panicked! Forgive me."
She smiled, but whispered, "I'm sorry son, I understand, but I can't forgive you." Andrew's eyes opened wide, he was so stunned, he stopped crying. "I want to forgive you, but I can't." She placed her hands on his shoulders, and he saw bits of flesh falling off. Her body began to rot, and her eyes stared into his. Her hands were crushing his shoulders in their embrace. "I can't forgive you, for this pain!" Her eyes glowed red.
He wrenched himself free from her arms, and jumped back. She no longer looked human, her eyes glowed red, her hair lost its color, and her body looked like a living corpse, reaching for his neck, desperately trying to kill him.
A voice came from nowhere; hissing at him, kill her.
"I can't kill her, not again!" He barely dodged her as she attempts to grab him, and chases him deeper into the graveyard. She's fast for a zombie!
This went on for a while, eventually, he realized he was lost, he couldn't see the exit. The world was a sea of tombstones.
Suddenly, a hand punches out of the dirt beneath his feet, the cold dead hand of his mother, holding him down. The phantoms were not one of a kind, nowhere near it. As if the on hand was their queue, thousands of graves were ripped open, and thousands of corpses climbed out into the world of the living. They swarmed him, holding him down and then he heard the last thing he would have expected. He heard a gun being loaded, past all the moans of the damned; he heard a pistol being readied for battle. Then he looked forward, and saw his dad, also one of the horde now, aiming it towards his head.
"Dad…"
He fired and Andrew finally reacted.
"Reflect!"
Light burst around him, tearing through the flesh of his captors, like so many lucent bullets. When the light cleared, the keyblade was in his hand, and he was ready to use it.
"Die tortured souls! Rest for good, it is time for you to disappear!"
He charged the remains of the horde, still outnumbering him greatly. Thousands to one, but Andrew liked those odds, the good guy always has to face overwhelming odds, and he always wins!
It wasn't long before a new warrior joined into the mix, one he never would have predicted. I don't understand! "But, you're not dead, do you hear me? Devlin's not dead!"
Swords connected with swords as Andrew soon realized, he couldn't out fight his new opponent. One on one, he might have stood a chance, but it was all he could do to block his thrusts, while kicking aside his mother's representations and dodging well aimed gun fire from his dad. Thousands of bullets were flying overhead, as Andrew realized that there were forty swords trying to slash him now.
"Run!" and he did. He slashed his way through non-Devlins and ran for his life, the zombie horde on his trail. He ran until he final tripped over an out of place tombstone. "What the hell."
He turned around quickly, the zombies were all still far behind him, all accept one. She was five foot ten, had a t-shirt and some jeans on. She had a staff in her hands and a powerful, tortured look on her face.
"Maria…"
She began to speak, as the voice that hissed in Andrew's ear echoed her. "You were too weak to save them; you are too weak to save me…"
Her voice sent chills down his spine, "I won't fail you!"
"You speak bold words, but your heart disagrees. Deep down you know you are weak, you know you will fail…"
Andrew looked down at the out of place tombstone, it looked old and beat up, but he could read the inscription.
Here lies Andrew Irvine
A man too weak to die with friends
A man who died alone
"…deep down you fear death."
Andrew was on the verge of a meltdown, he didn't know what to think, was he too weak; was he afraid?
"No."
"What?" cried the startled zombie.
"I don't fear death. I fear failure, fear that I will fail my friends, and they will die because of it."
The zombies had almost caught up with them now, but they too had stopped, startled by the power of his words.
"But this isn't the end, and you're not Maria! Maria is alive and well, and she's expecting me to return, she wants me to live! And that's all the reason I need!"
The zombies looked at each other, confused. Was this the man who feared death? No, this man was different; he had never been that man. This was the man who had feared to fail, and now he feared nothing.
The representation of Maria smiled, and began to walk over. Andrew readied the keyblade, but it was unnecessary. She walked close to him, leaned over his shoulders (on tiptoes) and whispered, "Take care of her."
The zombies began to crumble, turning to dust. The landscape began to be absorbed by a new one, tombstones disappearing, and dirt fading away. The nightmare was over.
"Well done, you conquered your greatest fears. Your heart is untainted by conflict; you are closer to your full potential."
It was Kashoku; the man who Andrew could already tell had the annoying habit of appearing out of nowhere.
"Your friends need you, and you made a promise."
"She wasn't real."
"Someday, you will learn that unreality matters little. For now, you have promises to fulfill, and a wager to win."
"I'm sick of you and your game, my story is not yours to play with!"
"Go through the door, realize your destiny."
A door appeared behind Andrew. He shrugged; after all, he didn't want to let down his friends. It opened and he went through.
The environment had finished reforming. It had become another stain glass platform, with a picture of a tombstone on it. It read:
Hear lies Mr. and Mrs. Irvine.
May they rest in peace.
He was back in the real world, and almost no time had passed. He was halfway through a jump from a skyscraper to the ground. He managed to keep himself from killing himself on the way down. Not a pleasant thought!
He landed in front of Brandon, "Don't worry kid, I've got this."
"Andrew…"
"Surprised? And here I thought you would be grateful."
The monster heartless was about to strike, but Andrew heard a voice in his head, Kashoku's voice, telling him what to do.
Focus on the virtue of courage, use your newfound power!
Andrew did, and something unusual occurred, he felt drained, and invigorated at the same time! He recognized the weakness as being a lack of MP, but this strength was new to him. He found words escaping his throat without his consent.
"Limit break: Koudo ken!"
His sword glowed with an intense green light, and he suddenly knew what to do. The beast's hand was inches from his head, and he quickly cocked back his arms, and thrusted out at it with the keyblade. The heartless was instantly annihilated, the light had spread through its body, and torn it apart so fast, no one had even managed to register that it was gone for another three seconds.
Brandon looked shocked, and a little afraid. "What the hell was that?!"
Andrew starred at his keyblade. It costs his entire MP reserve, but it was worth it for such a terrifying power. He hoped now, that everything would be alright, that nothing could stand in his way.
A/N: It has been brought to my attention, that some people think that my use of the MP video game element is improper for a story. I agree! So in response to this, I thought I'd share my thought process on this aspect with everyone. I looked at the power of magic, and asked myself, what do I want to do with it in my story? At first, the answer seemed simple, include it, let be as powerful as you imagine it to be, and have the characters do what they would do with it. Then a problem arose. It was perfectly acceptable to let Maria, who focuses on more pure thoughts than killing enemies, such as saving your friends, to spam cure spells, as her character would. However, if left to his own devises, Andrew would have become a sort of black mage, when I had always envisioned him as a warrior, because his characteristics are set in such a way that he would turn to his most powerful attacks almost immediately if they had no setbacks, and who can blame him! So I asked myself, how can I implement magic so that it isn't overpowered, while at the same time, not being so weak as to make being a mage pointless. The answer seemed to be obvious, limit how many times it can be used, by implementing the MP system. However, now I post the same question to you, how would you solve this problem? Find a better answer than I did, as someone surely will, and I'll use that superior idea instead, crediting you for it of course. Share your thoughts, the more detailed the better, in a review, and I'll read them all! I humbly ask for help from the better authors than me on this site, to help me become a better writer. Thank you.
