A special thanks to Negrath and Ramaon for reviews! Thanks to you, here's chapter 3! And no, I don't own Diablo II, Blizzard does. And no, I don't own Blizzard either.
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The bathwater resembled red wine at this point. Adrian looked at it in dismay, massaging his foot a little, gasping at the pain. He hobbled over to the cabinet to grab a bandage, quickly wrapping it around his foot and stuffing the bloody mess into his shoe, hoping it wouldn't be noticed. Pounding his head against the wall gently, he started thinking about what he could be doing right now on Battle.net. He could be level 20 by now at the very LEAST, destroying things left and right with his bone spears, letting his minions crush Duriel, slashing his way through the council at Travincal...
Headlights in the driveway broke through his reverie. That could mean only two things – either SWAT members were about to break in through his windows and flash bang the house, or his parents were home. He prayed for it to be the SWAT team, but he wasn't that lucky. He heard the door creak open downstairs. "Adrian! We're home!" "Really? Because I never would have guessed," he muttered under his breath as he limped into his bedroom, trying to make himself disappear, wishing he was like a Sorceress and could just teleport away. Again, no good. His door flew open and there was his father, red-faced, with a leather belt in his hand.
"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO MY COMPUTER? DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW MUCH THAT THING COST??" Adrian tried to scramble past his dad, to get out, to avoid him at any cost. Unfortunately, with his foot the way it was, his father easily grabbed him, ripping his shirt clear off his body in the process. "YOU – LITTLE – WORTHLESS – GOOD FOR NOTHING – WASTE – OF – TIME!" he bellowed, punctuating each word with a lash on Adrian's back from the belt. At first he tried to struggle, but he soon gave up, seeing how futile it was. Tears welled in his eyes, but he held them back. After all, he'd been through worse. This was nothing compared to having your account hacked...
The next morning, Adrian was up at 5:00am and out the door by 5:30, making every effort to avoid his father. Despite his early start, with his limp it was a slow, painful walk, and he arrived to school just in time to dodge being late. He flopped himself down in his homeroom desk. He was fast asleep before his head hit the hard, unpolished wood.
There he stood. The downfall of Tristram brought tears to his eyes, but he could feel the righteous vengeance coursing through his veins. He and his small skeletal army charged into the town square, laying waste to any Fallen in sight. A quick bone spear sliced the rope binding Cain's gibbet together, and it fell to the ground with a thud. Freylorn wheeled around and saw him. Griswold. A con artist in life, a beastly zombie in un- death. The powers and rage Adrian had withheld until that point all were released. Spears, spirits, teeth all flew in Griswold's direction, corpses around him blew in violent explosions of blood and poisonous gas. Poor Griswold never stood a chance...
"ADRIAN!" "Huh? What" He was shaken awake roughly by his teacher. "Mind telling us what you were dreaming about that was so much better than my lecture on Pythagoras?" Adrian blinked for a moment, bewildered. "Uhm...anything?" That was the wrong answer, apparently, as he soon found himself being sent to the principal's office. This was the third time this week, of course. He let out a sigh of defeat. He would be suspended for sure. And who would come to pick him up? His father.
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Hope this chapter goes over well! Another one will be on the way semi-soon, R&R and I'll love you forever!
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The bathwater resembled red wine at this point. Adrian looked at it in dismay, massaging his foot a little, gasping at the pain. He hobbled over to the cabinet to grab a bandage, quickly wrapping it around his foot and stuffing the bloody mess into his shoe, hoping it wouldn't be noticed. Pounding his head against the wall gently, he started thinking about what he could be doing right now on Battle.net. He could be level 20 by now at the very LEAST, destroying things left and right with his bone spears, letting his minions crush Duriel, slashing his way through the council at Travincal...
Headlights in the driveway broke through his reverie. That could mean only two things – either SWAT members were about to break in through his windows and flash bang the house, or his parents were home. He prayed for it to be the SWAT team, but he wasn't that lucky. He heard the door creak open downstairs. "Adrian! We're home!" "Really? Because I never would have guessed," he muttered under his breath as he limped into his bedroom, trying to make himself disappear, wishing he was like a Sorceress and could just teleport away. Again, no good. His door flew open and there was his father, red-faced, with a leather belt in his hand.
"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO MY COMPUTER? DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW MUCH THAT THING COST??" Adrian tried to scramble past his dad, to get out, to avoid him at any cost. Unfortunately, with his foot the way it was, his father easily grabbed him, ripping his shirt clear off his body in the process. "YOU – LITTLE – WORTHLESS – GOOD FOR NOTHING – WASTE – OF – TIME!" he bellowed, punctuating each word with a lash on Adrian's back from the belt. At first he tried to struggle, but he soon gave up, seeing how futile it was. Tears welled in his eyes, but he held them back. After all, he'd been through worse. This was nothing compared to having your account hacked...
The next morning, Adrian was up at 5:00am and out the door by 5:30, making every effort to avoid his father. Despite his early start, with his limp it was a slow, painful walk, and he arrived to school just in time to dodge being late. He flopped himself down in his homeroom desk. He was fast asleep before his head hit the hard, unpolished wood.
There he stood. The downfall of Tristram brought tears to his eyes, but he could feel the righteous vengeance coursing through his veins. He and his small skeletal army charged into the town square, laying waste to any Fallen in sight. A quick bone spear sliced the rope binding Cain's gibbet together, and it fell to the ground with a thud. Freylorn wheeled around and saw him. Griswold. A con artist in life, a beastly zombie in un- death. The powers and rage Adrian had withheld until that point all were released. Spears, spirits, teeth all flew in Griswold's direction, corpses around him blew in violent explosions of blood and poisonous gas. Poor Griswold never stood a chance...
"ADRIAN!" "Huh? What" He was shaken awake roughly by his teacher. "Mind telling us what you were dreaming about that was so much better than my lecture on Pythagoras?" Adrian blinked for a moment, bewildered. "Uhm...anything?" That was the wrong answer, apparently, as he soon found himself being sent to the principal's office. This was the third time this week, of course. He let out a sigh of defeat. He would be suspended for sure. And who would come to pick him up? His father.
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Hope this chapter goes over well! Another one will be on the way semi-soon, R&R and I'll love you forever!