IMPORTANT: PLEASE READ!
Heya guys! Hope you're doing all fine!
I know, what's with the message up there? Well, it's always important to read the author's note before reading the story, right?
Anyways: Wow, it surely has been some time since I last updated. Yes, I probably said that the last time as well, but being in my last year of highschool AND having a lot of concerts, I say it's been very busy around here.
This chapter is what I would like to call "Testimony of a civic hero: distortions". This is part one of three parts. I normally wanted to post the whole thing as one chapter... but discovered that I had written 23 bloody pages! So I was left with no choice but to divide it all into three parts.
Now you might think this chapter and the upcoming two are a random excuse to stall you guys from reading the real story, or what you guys would call a filler. It's not, okay? I thought it to be important to give a little background history to a character who appears only once, a little sidestory that defines the person he is today. Maybe I'll add that as another fanfic story, but meh.
Concerning the next update, I'm afraid it's gonna take a while. I'm going to korea for an important concert. Yes I'm performing there, and I hope I won't mess up. Anyways, wish me good luck there. But while I'm there for 1 and 1/2 weeks, I can try to refine the chapters, if I have the time. They are done, but there are some things that need to be edited and redone.
I was also thinking of re-writing the first chapter. It is three years old(UNBELIEVABLE!!) and needs to be polished. I'll probably do that for the next upcoming chapter. But we'll see how everything turns out.
Anyways, until that time comes, enjoy the chapter! All the best from the forever-loving-Sonic-fan-no-matter-what-adventures-he-goes-through,
~CJ~
EDIT: TUESDAY NOVEMBER 10TH: "Mike" is the chief of the firefighters, the one who carried Christine to the ambulance, and remains in there with her. All three upcoming chapters will explain how he became the man he is today, and they are narrated by Mike's point of view. That's why I start and end this story with quotation marks, and put all the text in italic. Mike is now telling the story. Sorry to get some of you guys confused. Yepp, that's all I'm gonna say. Check out the precedent chapter before reading this to remember a bit what happened, especially towards the end.
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Sonic the Hedgehog: the True Power of Music
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Chapter Fifteen
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"Back when I was young kid, a little younger than you and way before I devoted myself to the cause of a firefighter, I got a Sega Genesis for my birthday. The gift was a navy-toned wrapping, fastened by a silver ribbon, and I was too impatient to stall the surprise. I ripped the wrapping off shred by shred. I could hardly believe that I finally owned that console. There was a game included: the very first Sonic the Hedgehog game. That was when I first saw him, and I remember how much fun I had when playing as him, dashing through the Greenhill Zone. Graphics back at that time weren't as great as nowadays, but it was mind-blowing back in the good ol' days. What made this game so epic was the gameplay. Who could ever forget a blue hedgehog that jumped and sometimes even outran the screen? And the background music was as memorable as the sound-effects from the blown-up robots, the ringing noise when collecting rings or when that hedgehog somersaulted. You knew what the game's goal was: get to the finish line and beat the heck out of Dr Robotnik! But what made it so unique and different was that you didn't compete with any other opponents, like a car-racing game. It was just you as Sonic, rushing through the Greenhill Zone. You felt as if you were Sonic, and you challenged yourself into getting faster to the finish line, surpassing your expectations. And the difficulty of it all was the occasional enemies that popped out of nowhere, so you had to use every ounce of reflexes that you had. Oh, I remember how proud I was when I finished the game, and how much I was mesmerized by it. I loved the game. It felt like I've been through a great adventure with myself and with Sonic leading the way. Ya gotta know, there weren't any dialogues in that game, but to make up for this silence were the sounds and music. Maybe this kind of liberty of making up your own dialogues as you go through the stage gave this whole game an epic feel to it. Just imagine, you are Sonic, and you're in his world, you can think what you want, and you have one goal in your mind. I've gotta put up a cheeky grin when I look back. Funny times, really.
But as time passed by, and I grew more into a teenager, I began losing my interest and love for videogames. There was nothing more to them. It was fun playing, and I've had quite the adventure with the Sonic the Hedgehog game series, but that's it. Sadly, I left the whole console with all my games on a top shelf of my closet, and never took it out anymore. The teenage time came, and the outer looks of a tough boy were more important than a reminiscent kid loving a kid's toy. Maylee was the only one who knew that I played games, especially the love I had for the Sonic the Hedgehog games. And for my sake, she didn't blabber around about it. She knew how considerate I was of my image, which she thought it was stupid. But that girl couldn't understand young me and my feelings. Or maybe she did, which would be the reason that pushed me into making the next move, and that, Christine, became my biggest mistake. I stuck with the wrong crowd.
You know those kids who wanna grow up to be 'bad to the bone' like terminator? Get the respect they think they deserve by becoming wannabe machos? Well, I figured on the list. Just to get a great reputation, I had to be famous in the most nonsensical term. And that was where I got the idea of joining a well-known gang.
A group of tough teenagers formed a small gang, and their reputation surpassed any other gang by far. They were what we called the Leatherheads, and if you were part of it, many people would think you were unbelievably cool, others would fear you. But the results were the same. They would respect them, whether people had a choice or not.
I wanted to join them.
However, there was a hook about getting the membership, and that was to take on the gang's 'test of courage', as they would call it. No one knew exactly what the challenge was, but I was without a doubt motivated enough to do it. When I think about it, it wasn't about courage at all. It was all about being selfish and stupid.
By the time I had gotten wind of it, I didn't know when I was supposed to go see the Leatherheads. I was desperately eager to head there and get this over with. Become one of them. I was always a hasty person, wanting to get things done quickly. But it was all about timing. And what I thought to be the perfect opportunity came.
One evening, I argued with my parents over this matter. I considered myself very unfortunate back then, since my father was the police commissioner in our town. He heard how obsessive I was of joining the gang, and he put up a frustrated frown when we eating dinner.
'Michael, these guys are bad news.' He had told me, 'I won't have my son hanging around with people who do nothing but breaking the law for a living.'
'Hey, you're not the boss of me, old man!' I protested as I slammed my hands on the table, eyes flaring at him, 'I can make what I want out of my life, and I don't need ya to tell me what you think about it!'
I can still recall that swelling pain on my cheek and that fury displayed on his face when he delivered that punch. Not the kind of anger you'd expect at first, but I didn't think twice his face before my body acted on its own. I burst out of the house into the cold tempest of rain, and ran away from home. The black heavens ripped open to release heavy drops of rain, which little by little drenched me. But none of that mattered, for as long as I was pushed by angry thoughts, I could overcome everything. That night's show proved to me that power was necessary to gain respect and dignity. And as you can tell so far, I had misinterpreted the message, because I could never catch on that fast. Nonetheless, I decided that it was the perfect time to prove my worth. I had to go to the source of all my troubles, or what I considered my salvation back then. The Leatherheads. They had that little hangout of theirs in one of the many abandoned warehouses on the borders of my hometown. With the location engraved in my mind, I paced through the cruel storm, driven by mindless perseverance.
Unfortunately, I met Maylee on the way. She heard what had happened, and knew I was heading for the Leatherhead's hangout to join them. She did what a friend would do, and tried talking me out of this. She was only trying to help me out of this situation, but I turned her forcefully down with spite and rage. There were words I should've never mentioned, but I didn't care anymore. She ran through that rain, returning to her home with leaking, swollen eyes and a stifled sob. It was that bad. Nothing could ever justify the hurt I've made her suffer. Even up to this day, I still have regrets.
But with that so easily put aside, I finally arrived at the area composed of warehouses. This place used to be a significant storage of imports, supervised by a wealthy company. I wasn't too interested in the rumors of the company's corrupt dealings, but the most important one appeared in the newspapers, and marked the end of the company. A cocky journalist that had been investigating the area without permission was a witness to a deal made between the company's CEO and a launderer, where the latter traded his precious cargo of illegal weapons for a large sum of money. The crime being recorded by a camera, the journalist instantly made an escapade and informed the police, proving facts with evidence. With the company's CEO arrested and the foundation accused of illegal shipments, the company went into ruins, and this place was abandoned.
But that was years ago, and during my teenage time, one of the warehouses was unofficially owned by the Leatherhead's, used as their den. I slowed down as I travelled through the street, using my eyes to search for any detail that could lead me to them. All of the old storehouses, colored over time into grayish black, were sealed off by rusty stores and most likely locked. All but one.
One of the following house's entrances was wide open, and as I approached, I began to hear chattering voices. It took me more strength to enter the house and more courage to face the gang. But I couldn't chicken out now. I breathed in deeply and walked in.
Further into the vast hall, I saw a group of people around a metal container that served as their heater in this cold day. The walls of the interior took the color of the container's surging flames, but the place was still darker in there; outside felt more illuminated than inside the warehouse.
I believe I wanted to surprise the men in the hall, but as I approached, my presence was betrayed by the squeaking of wet footsteps. The heads of the members jerked to my direction, and as soon as they saw me, most of them got up to greet me… If you consider ganging up around me a greeting.
They all stepped aside when the leader came along. He was the type of guy that did nothing else than working on his body, and ended up becoming fully covered in muscles. The tight khaki shirt underneath the heavy leatherjacket showed that his broad, muscular chest had been well developed, and his ochre pants, its ends tucked into his sepia leather boots, appealed to his posture as the Leatherheads' leader. He was a tall, blond-haired man in his twenties, and the mischievous grin on his face along with the narrowed pair of ice-cold eyes should have warned me that this whole situation was too wacky for my own good. But I wasn't willing to let fear or intimidation get to me.
'Oh look, we've got ourselves a schoolboy…'
The only one left behind was sitting on a crate, and he fiddled with a lighter in his hand. The thick streak of hair, dyed in dark purple, stood atop his shaved head. This style was known as punk, and that was all I could think about. I did question myself about how much hairspray he needed to get his hairdo done. And what's worse, it didn't even look like hair anymore, but like a big chunk of plastic glued onto his head, gleaming whenever the guy lit his lighter. I would've felt sorry for how poorly he was dressed, with ripped, washed-out jeans and a plain black T-shirt with a discolored skull, but his conviction of being utterly cool made him look just pathetic. 'Get lost, kid. This ain't no Halloween party. Ya got nothing to lose around here.'
'That's funny coming from a guy who doesn't know how to get dressed.'
'Whatcha say?' he snapped back as jumped off the crate and joined the crowd. The blonde guy halted the punk before he could rush at me and show me what he was planning to do next.
The boss glanced at me after having forcefully calmed the member down. A guttural chuckle escaped his mouth. 'Ya got a nasty attitude… What's ya business here?'
'Heard you guys still got some space for new members.' I replied in a more serious tone, 'I want in.'
Each member had a different reaction, but they all were harmonized by a snicker. 'We don't let any kind of newbie in.' the leader responded, amused.
I took it really bad when people laughed at me and didn't think seriously of me. It made me lose my cool easily. 'Ya guys think I don't have what it takes? Bring it on! I've waited long enough to get that test done, and I'm not gonna let anyone stop me from doing it!'
The tone was hard and fierce, but hearing it come out of my mouth sounded a lot stronger than I thought it would be. It brought on a deathly calm, and some of the face churned into serious expressions. The leader was the only one to keep his smile. 'Now that's something ya don't see much these days… A witty kid who's got quite the temper. Ya even crazy enough to run out in the middle of the storm just to come here and be a member.'
He paused for a short moment, intentionally building up a tension as he looked at me with vivid eyes. I wasn't sure if his statement was good or bad, so I was left to grow nervous. And then, he broadened his smile. 'I like that … What's yer name, kid?'
'Mike.' I replied flatly before I could think of the leader's reaction.
'Mike, huh? The name's Dave.' He pointed his thumb over his shoulders to four other guys behind him.
The first was a bald Nigerian in an unbuttoned red shirt. His shaved head wasn't alone to gleam at the background's radiant flames; the golden ring pierced in his right ear glinted when he shifted his head in another direction. Up next was a Caucasian in a ripped, sleeveless black shirt with dark hair. Could've been brown or black, but it was hard to decide. One thing I was sure of was that he was a heavy-metal fanatic, since he enjoyed accessorizing himself with chains and spikes. To my utter surprise, the next one wore a clichéd Tuxedo, and he entertained himself with a silver coin that he toyed around with, flipping it around or letting it run over his knuckles. He seemed to pay more attention to his lovely coin than me. 'Sherah, Joe and Pete.'
Dave pointed at the last one who, needn't to explain, was first to give me a remark when I came here. 'And ya already met Rick.'
'Rick' glared at me before turning his head away in a snort. That was one of the attitudes that I was expecting to see, since I knew how much he hated my presence. But Dave appeared to think otherwise. He seemed surprised and pleased with the image of a drenched, serious boy who eagerly wanted to become a Leatherhead. He walked up to me and dropped something in my wrist.
'This is a welcoming gift.' He said, 'Something little from me, before you're a member.'
It appeared to be a red ribbon which all of the members had around their wrists. I had to contain my joyous outburst. Those who wore these ribbons were proven to be valorous, and that meant that the privilege of earning a membership had now become mine. I tied it tightly onto my wrist. The only thing left to do was earn my title.
'Wait here. We'll have to discuss 'bout that test…' He ordered, and called upon all the members to assemble. Having a safe distance from me and my curious ears, they formed a circle and began their little discussion. They weren't protected from my eyes, but I still couldn't tell what was going on. The leader waved his hands around, most likely telling the others of his plan, and by the way laughed and grinned, it was easy to guess that what the boss was proposing was going to be to their liking.
It only took about five minutes before they returned, the boss walking head on. The task I needed to carry out definitely gave them a good reason to pull off grimaces that were worrying me. But I wasn't weak, and kept my head clear of concerns and fear.
'You really up to this?' the leader asked, 'It ain't gonna be an easy one.'
'You betcha.' I replied back strongly, showing off my determination.
The leader smirked. 'All right. Follow me.'
We walked out of the warehouse, and went through the same path that I had taken earlier, only this time, instead of heading for the town, we took a different road. Over and over again, I was constantly warned by stifled laughter and chuckles of how potentially dangerous the test might be. However, this task remained my greatest obsession.
After a short while, we arrived at a riverbank. It was quite a large one, and fierce enough to arouse fear and doubt. The bad weather gave a big rise to the stream, and its waves crashed against the walls to reach with simplicity the ground above.
'This way.'
I followed the leader, the other members trailing not too far away from me. We walked a couple of minutes along the riverside, until we came to a narrow, wooden plank set over the river.
The test was as simple and as obvious. Get to the other side of the river by using the plank.
I had never felt so insecure in my life. The powerful beating of my heart became so unbearably loud, that I thought the others could hear it. And if it hadn't been raining, they would've seen the sweat covering my face. Unfortunately, that had to be the least of my worries. With the rain pouring down, anyone who walked on the board to get to the other side would have to be very careful not to slip and fall into the deep, turbulent river. Those waters weren't calming down one bit. Staring down into the river, watching the dark waves colliding into another, spirals forming, broken branches of trees dragged and pulled underwater, I felt like staring down at my death. This test was a dangerous and crazy idea.
'So, what's it gonna be? Ya still wanna cross that plank and become one of us, or be a chicken the rest of your life?'
Almost too instantly, I gave a sharp answer. 'I told you already, I'm going to do this, no matter what the test is!'
My reaction was too rash. I was too quick to leap on the plank that the piece of wood wobbled uncontrollably. I quickly kneeled down and clutched my fingers onto the board, tightening my grip extremely, as if it could stop the shaking. I was scared that moment. I was denying that thought with all my might. And as I did, the quake stopped. I breathed out a sigh of relief, and resumed the task. I stood up carefully, and took gentle steps across the plank. I was doing good. I was too much in perfect balance to fail now.
'Hey, schoolboy!'
I turned slowly around, my face tightened into an annoyed scorn. But all muscular tensions released when I saw that purple-haired punk placing his left foot on the edge of the plank. He had this snobbish look on his face, staring first at the long piece of wood and then straight into the depths of my eyes.
'Ya know what I hate more than schoolboys?' he called as loud as he could to gain my full attention. This moment was his alone, and he used it to snicker. 'Pretentious schoolboys who don't know their place.'
I felt a small quaver trying to take over my body, and a fear pounding in my chest that was felt in my nerves. I was expecting someone like the boss to intervene like before, but I was greatly deceived. He had his arms crossed and a replenishing grin on his face, all contorted by malicious intentions. And when I realized what had happened, it was already too late.
Ricky kicked the plank away with more strength than necessary, and, flailing every extent of my body around, I tried all I could to keep myself steady. That poor attempt was a wasted effort. I slipped off and fell from the plank, and forevermore was I scarred by the vision of distorted, violent waves."
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Mike's been had, and walked into the biggest trap of his life. Or is it...? Find out what happens next in the upcoming chapter of the True Power of Music.
Oh, Read and Review. Tell me what you think about this sidestory!
