Hey, yeah I'm alive… don't look so disappointed… Erm, yeah, I found this document on my computer from like 2001! I don't know where I had been going with this story but I'm gonna stick it on here as it is… and later on (much, much later on) I'll develop the story…
Yeah, yeah I know what you're thinking, but seriously, I have way too much stuff to do looks at schedule 12.30: Pick up dry cleaning; 2.00: organise the un-dead in a war against the toothpaste companies; 2.30: Do course work…. See….
Any way, onwards!
Erm, if anyone, after reading this has any ideas on how to improve on what's already here or on how they think a good way to progress this story may be, then can you say so in a review. Twill be greatly appreciated!
Disclaimer: I do not own Beyblade or any of the character therein; they belong to some dude… I only own character which do not appear in the Beyblade series, they're mine, don't use them… yup...
Slumbering Demon
The storm clouds swirled overhead. Thunder boomed. Lightning flashed. Rain splattered across the windscreen, the wipers shifting from left to right, and then left again. The wind blew mightily against the small car. He flinched again as another flash of lightning lit up the sky, wishing he were somewhere else, anywhere else, but here. A cold hand landed on his shoulder and he yelped, spinning in the front passenger seat. When he turned he saw a cloaked figure, which seemed to tower over him, despite the cramped space in the back of the vehicle. It's face shrouded in the darkness beneath its hood. His eyes darted downwards and what he saw enveloped in the sleeve of the robe made his stomach writhe. There was a hand extending out of the folds of dark cloth, if you could call it a hand. It was a greenish colour, decayed, with rotting clumps of flesh and muscle missing. It had a repulsive stench of something dead that had been left in the sun to putrefy.
He stared, terror washing over him, as it moved closer and closer to him. A voice, low pitched, rattling, dark and slow, spoke to him from within the depths of the hood.
"What is your worst fear, boy?" He was so shocked by this question that he didn't respond.
"No answer?… I shall tell you what your worst fear is… It is I! Because I am the sole being who can take your life, your soul, and your spirit. Come and join me," the hand reached out to him.
"Come and face your fear!" the decaying piece of meat moved to grasp at him and he screamed bringing his hands up to shield has face.
"Kai! Kai! What's wrong?" Kai opened his eyes to discover that he had fallen asleep, and obviously had a very lively nightmare.
"Kai, what happened?" Tyson was clinging onto him, a genuine worry plastered across his face. Recovering, Kai roughly pulled himself out of the younger boy's grasp.
Tyson shrugged and settled back down into his confined seat, squashed between Ray and Max.
"This, here storm seems to wanna run us off the road," said Grandpa who was driving.
"Isn't there any where we could stop," asked Max, unsuccessfully hiding the worry in his voice.
"Max is right you know," added Ray, "It's not safe to be driving in this weather."
"I dig ya Ray, that looks like a house or summin' coming up ahead," replied Grandpa.
"Finally!" exclaimed Tyson, "I've been wanting the toilet for ages!" Ray and Max shifted uncomfortably as the small vehicle drove up a winding drive towards the wrought-iron gates. The witch grass grew wild and tall in the front yard, obscuring the old, frost-eaten flagstones that led up to the porch. The house itself was vast and wilting, its windows haphazardly boarded shut giving that sinister look of old houses that held dark secrets within. The paint had been weathered away, so it had a uniform grey look. Windstorms had ripped many off the shingles off. The car came to a halt and everyone got out.
"Wow, people around here really don't get the meaning of upkeep," said Ray as his amber eyes peeked through the boards on the windows, seeing nothing inside.
"Can we please go inside?" Tyson had his jacket over his head to shield himself from getting wet.
"All right little dude, take a chill pill!" Grandpa strode towards the door and knocked the large gold knocker. It was quite out of place, a snarling jaguar head, with the knocker in its open mouth, grand and elaborate, golden but tarnished with age. As his wrinkled fingers left the strangely warm metal, the door swung open and a gust of wind escaped.
"Creepy," muttered Max as Ray began to move towards the open doorway.
"Hello?" Ray called out, an echo being his only reply.
"Well, it's deserted enough, we can just stay here until the storm dies down a bit," Grandpa walked into the hallway, being careful of where he tread. Tyson and Max followed.
"Are you coming, Kai?" Ray asked the other teen.
"Yeah, sure," he tore his gaze away from a tattered white board lying in the witch grass and followed Ray inside, dismissing a lingering thought from his mind. Once all were inside, the door slowly creaked shut, the jaguar's eyes glowing a deep menacing red momentarily. The white board, a no trespassing sign, was left, overlooked in the tall, wild witch grass.
Kai yanked on the handle of the door once more, "It's no use," he told the group, rubbing his sore arm. The door had creaked closed unnoticed until the realisation hit them that it was shut tight.
"Well it don't matter for the moment lil' bro's. Lets just find somewhere to sleep." Grandpa and Tyson went through a door towards the kitchen, Max and Ray went cautiously up the stairs and Kai walk further down the hallway, the floorboards creaking under all of their footsteps.
Kai walked slowly down the hallway, his shoes leaving dusty footprints along the blood red carpet…blood red? He bent down to inspect a patch of the carpet. It seemed slightly darker than the rest of it. He reached down to touch it…
"Don't touch that!" exclaimed Grandpa. He had found Tyson about to greedily place a piece of very mouldy cheese in his mouth.
"Do have any idea how much disease must be on that. You don't even know how long that must have been there, how long this house has been deserted, or even if that cheese was poisoned anyway for the mice and stuff!"
"Ok, ok!" said Tyson, holding his hands up in defence of his snarling grandfather, "Jeese, take a chill pill Grandpa, I'm just hungry that's all…"
"Yeah? Well your going to have to go without food for a while since none of this stuff looks edible," mumbled Grandpa peering into a few more cupboards. Finding nothing else except more pieces of revolting food, made unrecognisable with mould and age, he took a look around the kitchen.
It was quite old fashioned, Victorian style maybe. It was average size, with an old rusting gas cooker in one corner, and a small metal washing basin in another. There was a larder nearer to the door, which he went to inspect. He opened the door and a sour, rancid smell surged over him. Coughing and spluttering, he quickly shut the door again. As he turned around, he saw his grandson, holding a sharp rusting knife, inspecting it, a hypnotic grin on his face.
"Tyson!" he barked rushing over to him. Tyson slashed at the air in front of grandpa, trying to hack at his torso.
"What's wrong with you? Watch out…."
"Watch out Max!" cried Ray, as he leapt out to catch the vase Max had just knocked off of a shelf. His fingertips only just managed to clasp around the smooth china and he held it up, a relieved sigh escaping his lips.
"Sorry Ray," Max grinned shakily, "This place is too dark, I can't even see where I'm going half the time" he stressed this point by waving his hand out in front of him.
"S'alright. There must be some sort of light arou-" He stopped mid sentence as he heard a strange noise behind them in the dark upstairs hall way. He looked into the shadowy doorway of one of the rooms. His sharp ears picked up the sound again.
"What's wrong?" whispered Max.
"Ssshhhh!" Ray moved slowly towards the doorway, his shoes kicking up dust on the moth-eaten carpet. He snuck closer and closer to the door…
Kai edged closer to the door, an eerie light creeping through the cracks. As he had touched the patch of carpet, a low humming had started coming from within the room. His mind flashed back to the cloaked figure and he stopped a few paces away from the door.
"What am I scared of?" he muttered to himself as he inched nearer, "There's nothing to be scared off. There nothing special behind the door…nothing …" his hand closed around the balmy brass handle of the dark oak door, "… nothing at all…" He turned the handle and flung the door open.
A dazzling luminosity hit him, almost blinding him. He closed his eyes, a futile attempt to block out the illumination, as he still saw the glow behind his eyelids. Just as suddenly as it had flourished, the light faded down into a subtle shine coming from within the room.
The room before him looked like what used to be a ballroom. An elaborate golden chandelier hung from the ceiling, and a plush red carpet was beneath his feet. There were many small circular tables covered with clean white silk cloths covering them surrounded by seats, four to a table. On each table the centrepieces were a vase with a single red rose in bloom and a candle. The walls were decked with various ornately framed portraits of people with sneering faces dressed in old-fashioned gowns and suits, with the air of importance. These were along the east and west walls of the hall.
He stepped further into the room and smelled the pleasant scent of the roses and realised they were all real. He looked around, back out into the hallway, dank and dirty full of dust, then back to the room, rich and splendid. This room seemed untouched by the effects of time that the rest of the house seemed to have suffered.
He moved closer to the northern wall of the room. There was a large object obscured from view by a white satin sheet covering it. He stepped towards it and ran his hand over the soft texture of the sheet until it reached the corner where it closed around it and dragged it off of the item.
The light reflected off of the shiny surface as a mirror was revealed. It was about a head taller than him and twice as wide. The frame was oval and polished silver with majestic carvings in it. Gleaming emeralds were embossed into the frame.
Kai walked around to the back of the mirror. The back was also silver with the same carvings and emeralds. What he found strange was that the mirror was standing upright but it wasn't leaning back on any legs.
He walked back to the front of the mirror, inspecting his reflection, unruly two-toned blue hair falling rowdily in all directions, the familiar blue markings on his pale face, the luminous ruby eyes that were inquisitive at the moment, muscular arms folded across his equally muscular chest, a strong stance replicated back at him. His eyes flickered to wards the top of the mirror…
The rusting knife lay discarded a few feet away from where Grandpa was leaning on the counter, a corroded frying pan in his hand and Tyson lying on the floor near his feet. Regaining his breath, he slumped down next to Tyson and shook him back to consciousness.
"Wha- wha'appened?" he muttered as he sat up.
"You're asking me!" Grandpa half-screamed.
Tyson got shakily to his feet, leaning heavily on the older man.
"You were trying slash me to pieces." Tyson responded with a confused look at his grandpa.
"Oh forget about it for now," he sighed lightly as he helped a still dizzy Tyson towards the door, "Let's find the others, we'll sort it out later."
His hand rested softly on the door, the dust getting stuck to his sweaty palms. He pushed slightly on it and it creaked open slowly.
"What's in there, Ray?" whispered Max a few inches behind him.
"Ssshhhh…" he murmured. He edged his way into the dark room.
His garnet eyes took in the carved inscription reading the ancient language. He moved his hands up to brush a piece of lint off of it and it suddenly shimmered and the marks began to move, swimming beneath the cold surface of the precious metal. Kai stepped back startled at this strange behaviour and watched as the marks finally settled again but this time in a different formation. Kai moved closer to the mirror again, although more cautious this time. As he got nearer he realised the marks were now words, in fact, they were Russian, his native tongue. His brain began to puzzle as to whether this was just a coincidence or if he had done this when the words rearranged again, letters swapping, others dissolving into nothingness while more rose off of the mirror.
He stared intently at the words, taking them in quickly encase they decided to change again.
Young wanderer you have strayed upon and object encased with evil. Beware of waking this slumbering demon…
ĹĘĦĄŘĄ
Kai had read the inscription to himself but the last word puzzled him. It sounded like a name.
"Lehara…" he whispered to himself. As the last syllable had left his lips the whole room darkened slightly some the candles quivering in an invisible wind. His voice, though not by his own will, spoke the name over and over again echoing throughout the room. Kai slowly stepped back from the mirror which reflective surface had begun to ripple as if it were metallic water. Giving up on saving face, he turned and fled back towards the door. He got to other end of the room and his hands clasped around the crystal handled of an expensive polished door.
'Strange, he thought to himself… I remember this as an old oak door... .'
His thoughts left him in a hurry when the door began fade as if it were being sucked into the wall like ink on a page. He gasped when the door completely disappear with a sucking sound into the wall. He turned around to find another escape route when his attention was caught, and held, by the mirror, or at least what was coming out of it. A head followed by the torso of a female was pulling itself out of the mirror. Her arms pushed at the sides of the mirror forcing the rest of her out and then she dropped rather unceremoniously to the floor. She slowly pulled herself up into a sitting position. Gradually she moved her long sleek sheet of raven hair out of her face. She used gleaming emerald eyes to inspect her slender tanned body with was clothed with a long simple white dress. She got up, seeming to not notice Kai and moved to behind the mirror and pulled, apparently from nowhere a long sapphire Victorian style dress. She stepped into it and pulled it up over her shoulders. She leant over to straighten out the skirt.
"Could you please help me with this?"
It was the first time she had acknowledged that Kai existed and he flinched, startled. She turned to look at him, her emerald eyes fixed upon his.
"Please."
It was more of an order than a request and something in her voice pushed Kai's legs into action and he found himself walking over to the girl and slowly pulling the back of the dress together and doing the clasp. His hands brushed over her skin in the process and he recoiled at the cold sensation.
"Who are you?" He asked, finally reclaiming his voice. She smiled lightly at him before waving her hand dismissively and a chair was somehow pulled over towards him.
"Sit," she muttered. Kai obliged at the tone in her voice and his knees gave way.
"Who are you?" he repeated. Once again, she evaded his question. She stared down at Kai. Her eyes wide and sparkling like the emerald jewels that they were. Kai glared back, a glare he usually only reserved for Tyson. She smirked at him, the corners of her rose lips curving up. She moved closer to him and bent down so she was at eye level with him. Her serene eyes instantly changed hardening to the sharp points of an uncut diamond. His whole body suddenly stiffened and his gaze was fixated upon hers. He felt all his determination and the emotions that were churning inside of him dissolve.
'What's happening?' he thought to himself, 'what the hell is goi-' his thought cut off as he heard her voice echoing inside of his head.
'Kai…. Kaaaiiii,' she called out to him. No, not to him, but to something within him. Her hands reaching out to it, grasping and clutching before closing around it and yanking it out of him. Something snapped.
Kai fell limp against the chair. His head lolled back, his eyes wide and white and a thin line of saliva ran out of his mouth, dripping against his cheek. She got to her feet slowly, her eyes half-lidded as she digested Kai's soul.
"Ummmmm…" She went back to her mirror and stared intently at her clothes, turning slightly this way and that to get a better look.
"Oh this won't do," she muttered before snapping her fingers. There was a small whooshing noise as vines of strange liquid metal substance covered her body. When they retreated, her attire had transformed and she was wearing more 'up-to-date' clothes: jeans, top, and trainers all of black. She stepped back, pleased, before moving over towards were Kai was. As she walked past his wilted form her hands brushed over his eyes, closing them.
Her hands brushed over the eyes of her latest victim…
Her hands brushed over the eyes of her new partner…
Her hands brushed over the eyes of her slave…
"Do you see a light switch anywhere Max?" Ray whispered.
"I can hardly see the hand in front of my face let alone a light switch," he replied quietly. Ray held his arms out in front of him to try and find his way around the room. His cautiously shuffled further and further into the room.
"RAY! MAX!" Grandpa's voice carried up the staircase. Ray jumped startled, his heart going a mile-a-minute. He had to take a few deep breaths before he realised Max's nails were digging into his arm.
"Max, le'go would ya," he muttered, "Max? Hey Max, are you alright?" He turned around and stared into where he figured Max's face was.
"Hey Max," he clicked his fingers in his face.
"Huh? What?" he heard Max murmur.
"Come on lets go now, this place is really creeping me out." He steered Max by the shoulders out of the room, and towards the stairs. He felt a warm breeze pass across his ankles, a breeze he would forget for the moment, but later remember, when the time was right.
"Seriously?" Ray exclaimed in disbelief to Grandpa.
"I really don't remember any of that," Tyson ran his palm of his hand across his face in an attempt to recall his actions.
"I dunno what happened in there lil' dude, but you most definitely weren't acting yourself. Your eyes were just totally blank and when you woke up you were totally non-plus," Grandpa was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the dusty floor.
They were in a room downstairs in the house. It seemed to be a living room of some sort with chairs, sofas, tables and a fireplace dotted around. Tyson was sitting on the arm of one of a wing chair, Max was standing near him, his hands in his pockets and a grim expression etched on his features and Ray was leaning on the doorframe leaning into the room. There was a small crackling in the background from the meagre fire Grandpa had made by breaking up the legs from one of the tables and igniting them with Ray's lighter.
"I really don't… I … The last thing I remember is… well I was looking at the plates and stuff, you know the ones that are hanging on the walls, and one of the out of the rest was, well clean."
"So…" muttered Max.
"Well looking around at the rest of the stuff in this house I get what you're talking about," said Ray. The rest of the group nodded in understanding and agreement.
"Yeah, so this plate, it was like silver and the light was reflecting off of it so nicely, I went to it and was reaching out to touch it. It was so clean," Tyson muttered again an almost nostalgic quality on his expressions, "I saw some sort of… I dunno how exactly to describe it… a shape… the more I think about it, the more I think about it, the more I seem to remember it being an animal of some sort… and then the next thing I knew, I was waking up with a frying pan shaped bruise on my face."
"Sorry Tyson, you were coming at me with that knife, I didn't know what else to do," apologised Grandpa.
"Well you could have not hit me with a Victorian frying pan," replied Tyson. Ray smirked and this got all of them giggling quietly.
"Hey hang on," exclaimed Max, "Isn't there someone missing?" Silence enveloped the room as the realisation dawned on them.
"Where's Kai?"