Chapter 7: A Bad Day For Beybladers


Disclaimer: Sorry I haven't updated in a while. It's just report cards are coming, and our teachers are burying us under homework, projects, assignments, detentions, presentations, and so on. I don't own beyblade, blah, blah, blah. I'm so tired of disclaimers... Just get on with the story...


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Robert sat on his bed in the Majestics' hotel room. He glanced around. Nobody was around. Enrique was practising some new beyblading move against Johnny. Oliver had gone exploring the streets of Moscow. He took out a cell phone and called a long distance number. "Hello," he started. "It's Master Robert."

"Master Robert! How is your trip?"

"Fine, fine. Who's in charge? Because I forgot to make arrangements."

"Your grandmother, I believe, Master Robert."

"Very well. I must take leave now."

"Goodbye, Master Robert. I'll make sure everything goes according to plan back here... Enjoy your trip!"

Robert hung up. There was something strange about all this...


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He hung up. "According to my plan, that is... "Master Robert" this, "Master Robert" that." He chuckled evilly as he walked down a hall. He turned and walked into a weird room. It was a triangular shape. "My brilliant plan?" he asked a man that sat nearby at a computer, typing something. "Well underway," he replied, and clicked with the mouse. He shut the computer down and stood up. He said to the "servant," "I should check on how well the plan is proceeding." He walked out of the room, and, without anyone seeing him, out of the house.


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Robert had fallen asleep pondering what was so strange, and his dream was full of puzzles, but he was startled awake. Of course, he thought. His last grandmother had passed away a few months ago. That voice that picked up the phone... The servant from the time I invited the Majestics over! Robert kept piecing the mystery together with the clues he had. Something was going on, and that man was a big part of it...

He called his mansion again. The was a loud sort of beeping noise, which meant the phones had been disconnected. Robert felt helpless. 'Beep! Beep! Beep!' His cell phone rang. He looked at it, for it never rang like that when someone called. E-mail! The screen said. Robert opened it, for his curiosity made him forget the risks of unlocking it. The screen had these words:


Master Robert, I am "involved" in a plan to take over the mansion. I pretend to work for them, but actually make their jobs harder. Them? A few masterminds disguised as servants, with the one at the top the most convincing. I am not sure what you can do, but you should know. I am fleeing the grounds now, secretly and stealthily. Why, you may ask, when I can make their plan so hard to fulfil, shall I stop? Because I believe the "boss" suspects me. I will escape to safety... for now. I hope, one day, Master Robert, you will reclaim the property. They have cut off mail and phones, and all work for the "boss" now. I remain loyal, but others I know not, and fear so. The "boss" has entered the room. I must go, go now! Keep in touch, as I have a cell phone hidden cleverly. The number is the password of you safe and your age. Farewell, I dare not reveal my name.


Robert was not as surprised as you might have thought. He had known something had been going on, but wasn't sure what. Still, his property would have to wait. He had to settle things with Boris.


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The White Tigers looked around. It was the day, but nobody was in sight. They were standing facing the front entrance, and it was 1:45, 15 minutes before the letter insisted. They were starting to think it was nothing more than a joke, when Mariah exclaimed, "Look!" Mariah was pointing to a pile of rocks sitting in front of the door. A piece of paper stuck out from under the pile. Mariah rushed up and grabbed it. She read:


White Tigers, take the left door and follow the hallway. We're waiting...


All-Starz


"Well?" Mariah asked Lee.

Lee answered, "Let's go." They took the door left of the main entrance and followed the hallway to a large grey room with a huge beyblading dish in the middle.

"Waiting, huh?" Kevin sneered. Nobody was in sight. They were completely unaware of the fact that a pair of eyes gazed at them through a small video camera in the lights...


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Steve was a little angry. "So where are they!?!?!?"

Judy told him, "Relax, Steven."

"Judy, look." Emily had noticed a pile of rocks in front of the entrance. A piece of paper was sticking out from under it. Emily snatched it up and read:


All-Starz, take the right entrance and follow the hallway. We're waiting...


White Tigers


"Judy?" Emily asked.

"Proceed," she replied. They took the door right of the main entrance and followed the hallway to a large grey room. The White Tigers were getting impatient waiting for them. Steven asked, "So spill it. Why did you invite us, and how did you convince BIOVOLT to lend you this place?"

"Don't ask us! You're the ones who invited us!" Kevin lost his temper.

"Us? You sent us this letter!" Emily exclaimed, holding out the letter.

"No way! You sent us this letter!" Mariah answered, holding out their letter.

"We never sent anything!" Eddy pitched in.

"We didn't send you anything!" Lee was getting angry.

"I'll let my blade do the talking, if you wanna lie to us!" Steve said, holding out his football launcher. "Us too!" His team-mates added.

"If that's your choice, then we accept your challenge!" Lee answered. His team stepped into position behind him. Judy called, "3... 2... 1... Let it rip!" 8 beyblades flew into the dish. The White Tigers' beyblades assumed a triangular formation and charged, while the All-Starz' beyblades took a more square-like pattern and circled the dish. The All-Starz' beyblades circled together, then broke off, and attacked. Tryhorn attacked Galeon, Tryalligator aimed for Galux, Trygle attacked Galmon, and Trypio charged at Galzzy.


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Boris stared through the video camera and put an ugly grin on his face. He said to himself, and to Voltaire, "Good. Everything is going according to plan."

Voltaire did not look pleased. "Ar-are you sure about this, Boris?"

"(*evil chuckle*) OF COURSE I AM! Hahahaha!"

"That's what you said about "Cyber-Tala," and he was a failure!"

"I-I always persevere, Voltaire."

"Your optimism still sickens me, Boris. I've been this close to shutting down these genetic experiments of yours, when, by some miracle, you've convinced me not to. This is seriously your last chance, Boris. And if you fail, it will cost more than you think, for wasting my time."

"Un-understood, Voltaire."


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The collision of beyblades was incredible. The impact caused all 8 blades to fly out of the dish and into their owner's hand. Another door opened, and the Demolition Boys walked out, looking smug. Tala spoke first. "You think you're so good. Way better than the last time we met, but we just analysed your data. You barely showed any improvement, or you're too weak to show them."

Lee turned crimson, along with Michael. Every other blader showed signs of anger in their own way. Lee growled, "You can talk, but can you blade?" He put Galeon on his launcher. "Well?" Michael did the same. Every blader got ready to launch. "3, 2, 1, LET IT RIP!!!!!"


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The Majestics were being shown to a room deep in the "abbey." They reached the room and stepped into the centre. All doors, exits, even windows were being locked, secured, and guarded. The Majestics were surrounded. Then they noticed Boris. He was dressed actually like a gentleman. He was wearing a tux, and his hair had been done nicely. The Majestics were not fooled by his appearance.

"You wanted a fight and you shall get one!" Robert told him.

Johnny added, "We won't go down without a fight! Actually, we won't go down at all, Boris. Glad you dressed for the day when the Majestics bring you down!"

"Fear not, Majestics. I plan to live up to my name! (*evil, crazy laughter*)" (*A/N Boris literally means fight in Russian.) "It would be quite a sight," Robert said.

Boris smiled evilly and answered, "And it would be quite a sight to see Oliver live up to his name, wouldn't it?" (*A/N the name Oliver is supposed to have come from Middle Low German for, literally, elf-army. Hehehehe!)

The floor started shaking. The Majestics jumped out of the way, just in time, as a huge, and I mean, huge beyblading dish rose to take up much of the spacious room.


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DME: *staring up at a big stone-like block* Writer's block, I hate it! I'm sure I'll get over it soon. Can't update a lot now that the writer's block is in my way, and with all our homework. And projects, assignments, this and that. Also, my friend is feeling better, and she wants me to thank all the people that felt sorry about her. She's still buried under all the schoolwork and recovering from injuries, so don't expect updates soon. I'll try 2 weeks, but I doubt I'll get past the writer's block. I would do one week if I had the time for it! Well, please review, because I need ideas, inspirations, whatever. No emails to my bio email, please! Emergencies or very important questions, ideas and otherwise to anime_fan38@yahoo.ca (make sure it's .ca). Review please! This isn't easy, you know!