ALONE IN HELL
Mission 1:
The Broken Souls
A solitary figure perched on a floating rock, gazing at the expansive world. It was an anthropomorphic cat-like figure wearing a dark red robe. Only his long, thick necklace stands out, adorned with symbols unknown to any living being. It was a male cat with red fur and a hint of white on his nose and between his eyes. His eyes were yellow like gold, and he had a scar on his left ear that showed a missing piece of flesh. The six-foot creature appeared to be contemplating things. With his motionless body and absence of blinking, he gave the impression of being alive and dead.
The male cat moved….
He blinked, ears flicking to stretch them. His limbs responded to him, cracking, popping like a statue breaking free. If his mouth could open, he would have moaned at the sensation. His mouth finally moved on command, and he could feel the air evading his lungs. A mew eluded him, and he stood up. That was a mistake, as his legs had not woken up, and he tumbled down to the rocky floor. It hurt, and he could only curl himself as he shook his legs to respond.
He uncoiled himself and stared up at the sky. He scanned his surrounding area for clues about his situation. The answers were nowhere in this vast, empty world. He closed his eyes for a bit. To restart his brain, he counted numbers. The figure raised his paws before him and investigated them before putting them down. No way was he going to get answers lying on the floor. He stood up, walked to the edge of the floating rock, and peered down into the void.
Finally, he uttered words as he rubbed his chin.
"Hmm… I seem to be back in my realm. Odd, I swore I was with that wizard. Did the little fool perish? No, that can't be it. I would have felt it. Let's see. I was with him. He was about to get Queen Callista, and then…." he trailed off, realizing he did not know what came next. His memories were blank or missing essential information about things.
Frustration boiled inside him as he snarled at his memory loss, desperately wishing for an explanation. With a swift motion of his arm, a bright purple projectile shot out of his hand, shattering the rock he had been sitting on moments before. He jumped back, his heart racing at the sight of his hands glowing a dark purple. As he pondered, a small memory suddenly rushed back inside his head, giving some information.
"Of course! I'm a supreme being that uses chaos magic, and my name is…." he trailed off again as he realized he did not know his name. All his memories are a blur, besides the minimum things related to that little wizard. Annoyance crept over him as he realized the situation he was in. He was a stranger to himself!
"Where's that little…." the stranger muttered. Suddenly, he heard something whizzing nearby, and he looked to see a ray of light approaching him.
The light stopped before him, and the ball soon expanded to an oval shape big enough to fit him. The beam of light exposed a floating castle in nothingness. He observed the portal zoom in on the court, pass through a mirror, and focus on a tiny robed figure. His heart fluttered with glee as he finally saw something familiar. This was the wizard he was looking for. The Pastmaster, wizard of time, and….
"For the love of all the gods!" the stranger rumbled, rubbing his face in frustration. He needed answers now, or he would grow insane with this never-ending loop of trying to figure things out. Before taking the plunge inside, he made sure the portal was safe before stepping inside. A white tunnel awaited him on the other side, with another opening some distance away. Behind him, the portal closed up.
"Good afternoon, city of Finford! This DJ Zola is bringing you the news and funk to your precious ears," the female voice purred over the radio. Music played in the background with a few sound effects. "Apart from the mayor's list of promises, brother and sisters getting jailed by the pigs, and gangs running rampant in the Outskirts…. Things are going about the same. 'Prosperity and Equality for All,' My ass! More like 'Survival of the Fittest and Cunning.'"
Ethan snorted and glanced at the adults around the bustling city center. Esmond Marson, or Ethan as he was called, had a full name. He was a light brown-skinned kid with curly black hair and black eyes. People who knew him would know it was him from the back, thanks to the big red neckerchief he always wore. However, not that he knew many people, nor did most people notice him. In their eyes, he was probably some tiny dirty brat from the Outskirts.
Oh, what do we have here? Ethan thought as he observed a couple with shopping bags from a well-known store chatting and laughing as they walked. They were sitting ducks, an easy target for anyone. Of course, he should move soon before the hotdog cart owner said something to him.
As he drew closer, he quickened his pace and fixed his sights on the male. The man's wallet slid smoothly from his pocket to Ethan's finger with a bump and a spin. Ethan's sudden appearance startled the man, causing him to yell in surprise. He called out for Ethan to watch his step. Ethan did not stop, only yelling an apology as he swished around the adults to escape his victim.
A small nearby alley was his target, and he saw an older teenager waiting for him. Toby beat him in age by three years, as Ethan barely turned thirteen. Toby was white-skinned and had a skeletal look, like a junkie, with messy dark yellow hair and torn-up clothing. It did not help that Toby twitched because of his nerves.
Ethan grinned and showed the stolen wallet from his hoodie's pocket, making Toby grin and wave at him to hurry. He entered the alley, following the older teen deeper inside. Unlike the clean and vibrant city, trash and boxes plagued the alley, but workers ensured it did not spill out into the open.
Ethan pulled out the wallet again and showed it to Toby, who snatched it and quickly pulled out the cash. He wished Toby would have congratulated him before grabbing the wallet out of his hand. Then again, where was Toby's loot? Upon further inspection, he could tell Toby was empty-handed.
"No luck on your end?" Ethan said.
Toby stopped counting and gave a wan smile. "Oh yeah. I was about to get a nice catch when the police appeared in my corner. You know how I get when they come near me."
"Oh, I didn't see…." Ethan stopped, knowing it would be unwise to challenge the teen. Instead, he waited and watched the teen hand him some cash, seeing Toby sneak a giant stack into his pocket. Yet again, he said nothing and saw the teen huff after trying to see if more money was around, letting the wallet fall to the ground and strolling to the edge of the alley.
"Damn it, why can't these bastards carry more cash? Like, hello, we need money," Toby said, crossing his arms and looking out from where they came from. "We're struggling over here! Why couldn't I be born rich? Ain't this some bullshit?"
Ethan said nothing. He wanted to steer this conversation to his plans for them today. "Uh-huh. So…. should we hit the arcades first, or do you want to grab a pizza?"
"Imagine if I won the lottery? What I wouldn't do with it and…."
Ethan refrained from rolling his eyes, knowing that Toby was going on a total tirade for a while. He glanced down at the fallen wallet, tuning out his friend as he inspected it more. The wallet was dry of cash, with only credit cards remaining and the man's ID. That's when he noticed something sticking out from underneath the ID. He pulled it out, seeing that the man had a child back home. They appeared to be somewhere else, away from this crummy city and spending quality time in a nice-looking forest—a happy family. The longer he kept his eyes on the photo, the more irritated he became, even though he could not explain his annoyance. Not that it mattered, as a hand appeared and snatched from his hand.
"What's this? Oh, just some trash," Toby said as he casually threw the photo on the ground. He grinned and smacked the backside of Ethan. "So… I was thinking… we should do a job for the Young Bastards. I already talked to one of them, and if we do this job tonight, we can get paid a good amount. Not this shit," he said, grabbing the wallet and chucking it into the alley.
Ethan returned his attention to the photo on the ground until Toby's foot stepped on it. He looked at his twitchy friend. He could say many things, like calling Toby a broken record or telling him how stupid he was even thinking about that. But he did not want the arcade day ruined, so he chose his words carefully. "You've heard they killed one of their members because they thought he was making faces at them. Or better yet, when they beat that poor owner because they thought he was tricking them—unhinged psychopaths who will find any excuse to hurt someone. The risk is not worth it. Plus, you know they force you to join their gang once you work for them, right?"
Toby's face crunched up, and eyes twitched before he pulled on Ethan's neckerchief to be face to face. "So? Do you want to keep getting scraps, or do you want to step up and grow some balls?" he snapped, shoving Ethan away.
"I don't want to catch a bullet or get arrested. So, I'm going to pass. Sorry."
"Fuck you. You know what? I'm going to do it, so stand there while I get paid," Toby said, heading towards the street.
"Hey, where are you going? Arcade today, remember? You promised to go with me!"
"What? I don't care. Go by yourself!"
"Hey!"
Ethan felt a fire ignite inside him, but he bit down on his lip, holding back the urge to yell out his emotions. When he opened his eyes, Toby was gone. His heart felt heavy. He could only steady himself by gripping his neckerchief, asking for guidance, and he looked up. A bird flew carelessly above him, circling before flying off somewhere else. The thought of flying away from this place and discovering something new consumed his mind. Yet he did not have enough money to travel or be of the age where he could leave without being questioned by the police. But then reality would hit him, and his gaze sank back to the dirty floor beneath him. Where would he go? Was there anything better out there waiting for him?
The photo poked out for him again, and he picked up the footprinted photo. If he could replace the kid in the picture, he would be happy and not struggle in the streets. However, it still bugged him to look at it for long, and his attention would drift to the two adults. Why did it hurt so much? He shook his head and placed the photo on the ledge of a window.
With arcade day ruined…. Again. He hurried out of the alley and moved around the city. Stopping by a convenience store, he bought a sandwich and beverage before heading to a nearby bus stop. Paying his fee, he found an open spot and opened his food, glancing at the other riders and the outside.
After a short time, the bus made frequent stops, and eventually, only the poorest passengers remained. The high rises slowly dwindled, and the cleanliness of the street was less clean, replaced by broken roads and buildings. Soon, a wall of project buildings came into view, which created this wall image that stretched around the city's inner circle. Huge highway ramps above avoided these projects, letting visitors avoid this mess and with walls preventing them from peering down. The Outskirts were another name for this outer ring. This area lacked critical resources like a hospital or pharmacy but had low-cost food options and liquor stores.
Ethan peered out the window when police lights flashed in the corner of his eye. The police arrested someone and dragged the unlucky guy onto their bus. Within seconds, they skedaddled before the arriving civilians surrounded them—the typical search and snatch. Based on the number of police cars, it was not a severe crime because chopper and armored cars meant murder against a citizen from the inner circle. Not that they cared about solving crime here.
Hookers worked the corners in broad daylight, gangsters rode around on motorcycles, and the homeless camps littered every spot that offered shade.
Ethan shook his head and drifted to something else that plagued his mind. His worthless father might be awake. Then again, his father might be in his other mood and ignore him like a ghost. It was the best time and worst time to be there. He pulled a worn, broken pocket knife with a wooden handle and blue markings out of his back pocket. It had a black 'Z' on the hilt. He frowned and gripped the object tighter, longing for the love and care of a non-blood mother who was long gone.
Reaching his building after several stops, he hopped off and strode towards the main lobby. Unlike the other buildings nearby, it was unique because it had a playground for kids in front. The playground was shabby, but the kids adapted and used it to play. Yellow and black gang signs tagged the side of the building.
Ethan continued inside the building. Trash covered the area, someone flimsily covered holes in the walls with drywall, and cockroaches scattered with every step he took. There was a locked donation box on the desk where security should have been. A family somewhere was asking their fellow tenets for help, as they had just given birth to a new baby boy. Ethan pulled the remaining stolen cash from his pocket and dropped it inside.
He raced to the elevator, chose the one not under maintenance, and then rode to the seventh floor. His body tensed, and he took a deep breath, praying for the elevator not to break. It took a bit as he could hear the motors above him trying to take him to his floor. He mentally noted to take the stairs next time to avoid getting stuck and waiting for help.
As soon as the doors opened, Ethan turned left, walking a few doors down. Like the rest of the building, the hallway had a red carpet, white walls, and two lights on each side of the doors. He made it to the door of the hallway's end. This was his apartment, which he shared with his father.
However, before he could turn the knob, an older lady popped her head from her apartment. The old lady noticed Ethan and scowled at him, closing the door as she exited her apartment and locked it behind her. Agatha, Ethan's pesky neighbor, was in her 60s and dressed in an unflattering pink floral dress with a sunflower hat perched on her head.
Agatha faced him once more and put her hands on her hips. "Are you happy with yourself?"
"I'm sorry?" Ethan said.
"Playing dumb won't help you. Your poor father has to work his poor bones while you go out to who knows where and cause trouble for him."
"I'm not sure what you are talking about."
"Oh really? Then tell me why your father was missing money," Agatha hissed, narrowing her eyes at him. "He feeds, clothes, and tries to give you all the support you need, but you spit on his face in return. You are one ungrateful brat."
Ethan felt shocked at the claim. Yet his brain was piecing the mystery together, recalling his father purchasing an expensive gift for a woman he'd been sleeping with. Today was rent day, and the owner's bull of a son was the only person who scared the older Marson. Agatha was lonely and next door so…. Ethan felt Agatha pinch his face.
"You owe me money. I don't care how you get it, but I will need it by the end of this week…."
Ethan wished he could just push her chubby fingers away. Yet, he could only ball his fist and listen as she rattled her usual chimes about him. No matter how farfetched the stories were, the older Marson had this ability to gain sympathy from all who listened. Ethan was at the mercy of those stories and would get thrown under the bus as the problematic child of a doting father. People believed the rumors, making it hard for him to make friends in the building. Who wants their kids to be friends with someone who treats their wounded vet father like trash? Agatha was the biggest fan in those stories and occasionally talked severely about her kids, who did not visit her even though she was strict with them out of love.
Poor him! Oh, poor that! God will punish you. You and my father are the same pieces of shit, Ethan thought. When he felt her let go of him, he ducked and opened the door, closing it before Agatha could stop him.
Ethan waited by the door while Agatha ranted about him, predicting he'd be in jail or a gang within a year. He yearned to punch the door and tell the old bat how he felt. However, he stopped and thought his father might hear. That is if his father was not already drunk.
Ethan turned to face the hallway. On the left was his room, on the right was his father's room, and the kitchen and living room were down the path. Frequently, his father would sit on the couch and watch their small TV. He snuck up and arrived at the end of the hallway, then cautiously looked around the corner to observe a disaster.
The room has beer bottles scattered across the floor, and the TV displays static. His knocked-out father had a beer in hand, and his mouth was wide open. His father wore a mechanic jumpsuit stained with grease, a tank top, a leg brace, one work boot, and a ripped sock on his other foot. Apart from sharing the same hair and eye colors, the man had a lighter skin tone than Ethan.
Ethan relaxed when he noticed the number of beers near his father. He grumbled as he realized the flicker above him. It's hard to believe the drunk was a mechanic or his father. The man was a handyman for the building. The older Marson rarely worked and mostly drank unless someone complained.
It would be simple to cut his throat in his sleep. It would be easier to spike his drink with something poisonous. Yet Ethan moved in, grabbed the nearby blanket, and covered his father. He wished…. things were different.
Having enough of the man, Ethan returned to his room and walked less cautiously. Holes and damaged walls were the only features of the small hallway. He pondered whether the couple's home was like those in commercials, smiling and laughing about the dumbest things. While entering his room, he continued to wonder about the existence of hope with his father. He knew it was impossible as he stared at his empty room with little belongings and a worn-out bed.
"This sucks," he muttered and closed the door behind him. He threw himself on his bed and pulled out a comic from underneath. How he wished things were like a comic book. Things would have been easier if he had powers like these heroes. Maybe someone would notice him?
In another world and dimension, there was a planet called Aristol. No humans existed here. Instead, the prominent creature was anthropomorphic cats. However, they spell it with a 'k' instead of a 'c'.
One notable place in this world was Megakat City, a thriving metropolis with ample resources and a long development history. However, as it grew, so did its shadow. Omegas, criminal empires, and corrupt politicians plague the city despite its abundance of opportunities. The living conditions in Megakat City were chaotic for its inhabitants. However, it was the norm and part of their daily routine. Outsiders know this city for its unique ecosystem, history, and justice system, where the Enforcers, a combination of police and military, keep the citizens safe. This is where a fallen omega lived….
What a cruddy day! Chance Furlong thought as he ducked and avoided a pipe. He was not panicking about it. It was a child's play to evade the incoming attacks from surrounding toms. Oh no. His attention drifted to the guards above their secured spots, watching the scene unfold and laughing as he put some more kats down. They were probably betting among themselves if he would last long or knock the entire squad of kats.
Whoever bets against him is going to cry to their spouse later. Their mates would demand them to explain why they lost money. He could imagine them explaining how a thirty-five-year-old tabby with brown stripes and yellow fur fought against twenty kats. Correction. Only seven inmates remained, while the rest remained on the ground, holding their heads or stomachs.
The grassy field had certain spots that were covered in blood. Workout equipment littered the grounds—a huge pentagon area with chains separating the population into different sections.
After a dispute over workout machines, a fight ensued between Chance and a gang. He would have let it go until someone mentioned Dark Kat. It infuriated him, which caused him to drive his fist to the commentator's face.
Chance heard metal hitting the ground and saw a kat with a metal pipe. The tom swung quickly but missed as Chance ducked out of the way and drove his fist into his skull. With one quick motion, Chance snatched the pipe from the air. He contemplated using it to inflict harm on the other kats. Taking a glance at the other inmates, he flung the pipe towards the feet of one of them. Pointing at the tube, he motioned for the frightened kat to pick it up.
"You need this more than I do," Chance said, waving his hands towards him. "Come on! You bunch of tail swipers! Let's keep this going!"
All the toms backed up, and their eyes lost faith in continuing this fight, which annoyed Chance. They filled him with rage, and he wanted to vent his frustration. With his claws out, he headed to them until the facility's alarm blasted on. The official sound that marked the end of the fight left him feeling even more infuriated. Following the example of the other inmates, he lay down on the ground, feeling the tension in his body slowly dissipate. His face pressed against the surface as he waited with paws on his head for what would come next.
"STOP ALL FIGHTING! GET ON THE GROUND AND LAY ON YOUR STOMACH! HANDS ON YOUR HEAD! ANY INMATE NOT FOLLOWING THIS WILL BE SHOT! I REPEAT…." A bunch of speakers blared as kats with riot gear flooded the courtyard.
Chance paid no attention and shifted his head toward the sky above. A bird flew above the courtyard and spun briefly before finally heading toward the city. He felt jealous of the bird's freedom in the sky. He remembered when he had his wings flying over the city with another tom on a jet they built. But those times were over, and he was now grounded to the floor with no hopes of ever getting up there again.
A kick to the stomach made Chance grunt.
They lifted him and the rest, waiting for the warden to arrive. A rather fat white-furred ward came to the courtyard a few moments later. The warden's eager eyes and haughty nose suggested punishment for the kats. The warden wore a suit with shiny medallions that identified his authority, but his belly pressed on the neck and lower half. If only Chance could break this bastard's neck.
"Why Chance Furlong? What a surprise that you started this whole thing," the warden chuckled. He got close and whispered, "Or should I say T-Bone?"
Chance sighed. He knew this little fat ass had a vendetta against anyone that was an omega or associated with one. Only a select few knew about his alter ego, and the Enforcers locked away his past activities. Accessing the information would be tricky unless you have connections or a good ear to listen to passing conversations.
"Eyes here!" the warden snapped, hitting Chance's stomach with a baton. Chance barely flinched and only moved a millimeter. "You're going to spend the rest of your nine lives here. So stop daydreaming about the outside. Honestly, what to do with you? Oh, I know…"
He knew it. Solitary confinement was his punishment—the warden drone on his usual chimes to goad him. Chance would have choked the warden. However, he knew keeping his mouth shut would piss off the warden. Minor victories kept him sane, though he wished he could beat the walking punching bag.
Three guards shoved Chance toward his punishment. Not long later, he was unceremoniously kicked inside his new temporary home with the door shut behind him. He hissed and picked himself up to look at the bared room.
"A month of solitary confinement? Little fucker is probably feeling himself after this," Chance spat. A barred window high above showed him the outside sky. The same bird came back. "Lucky bastard. Stop mocking me and hogging the sky. Oh, you brought your family?"
The bird flew with the others before heading toward where the city was at. Chance ponders an alternate life resulting from a different decision. Would he still have a friend? If he let Feral take the shot, where would he be now? What if he went like his vigilante twin from another dimension instead of becoming an omega? Did he have a mate and kittens at this point? Chance shook his head.
"Age must be catching up to me if I'm thinking like that," he whispered.
Ethan jolted awake at the sound of a sudden, loud bang. He wondered if it was just his imagination until another loud thud made him jump. He sat frozen for a moment before shooting up, his eyes on his door and listening if his father was approaching him. However, the usual crashing bottles and hits to the walls were not there. The sound was a knock on the door. He exhaled, and a sense of relief washed over him, though now he wondered what was happening. It confused him why his father had said nothing, as he would usually go to whoever was knocking and confront them. Moments passed, and nobody was responding to the knocks, meaning his father was not home.
"Shit," Ethan said. He went towards his door and entered the hallway. Maybe his father pissed off a tenet with his shoddy work and would get yelled at for him. "Hold on. I'm coming. I said hold on!"
The door handle was in his grasp, but he stopped. A voice warned him against opening it, and his gut told him to listen. It puzzled him, but he stopped to think about it. It was too late for anyone to complain, and they were not speaking from the other side of the door. He wished there was a keyhole or proper lock mechanism to check.
Another hard knock came.
Ethan shoved his bad feeling down, disengaging the lock and opening it to see his friend Toby. He felt relief at the sight until he noticed Toby looked roughed up and was not alone. Before Ethan could barely say anything, Toby raised one hand and pointed at him.
"That's him. He's the one that jack your shit," Toby said, wincing and holding his stomach. "You'll let me go now, right? I don't know where this kid hid the package."
"Shut up. You are not going anywhere until we say so!" an adult shouted. He punched Toby in the side, making the teen whimper.
The two adults wore street clothes representing their gang and wore blue bandanas around one hand. They appeared to be twins, as they had a similar face. The only difference was that one was bald, and the other had a ponytail. The bald person approached Ethan and removed him from the doorway.
Despite his confusion and anger, Ethan attempted to defend himself against the bald man, only to be punched in the stomach and fall to his knees.
"Don't make this harder than it has to be," the bald man said, grabbing Ethan's hair and harshly pulling him back to his feet. "Stupid moron, you should have thought twice before crossing us. You are going to show us where you hid our stuff!"
Ethan winced and struggled to talk because the punch knocked the wind out. He felt the bald man grab his arm and pull him down the hallway, all heading towards the elevator. He spotted a 'YB' tattoo under the bald man's hand and looked at Toby. However, Toby looked away, twitching and holding his side as the ponytail pushed him along.
Wondering what had occurred with Toby, Ethan hoped it was not a big deal. Hopefully, they would rough them up after they were done with them until he saw something silver. A gun poking from the bald man's waist told him otherwise, making Ethan shiver and look around for anyone to help him. No one was about. Even if they witnessed it, the neighbors would ignore him.
"Hey, I don't know what's going on. Let me go!" Ethan yelled out finally.
"He's lying!" Toby said.
Ethan and Toby got swift punches in their stomachs. The bald man firmly nudged Ethan's arm to keep him going towards the elevator.
"Stupid fuckers, the only thing we care about is finding our stuff. We'll figure out what to do with you once…."
The elevator door opened with a ding, making Ethan hopeful. He looked towards the area and saw someone exit, thinking it was his father back from the liquor store. It was! His father returned from the liquor store, bag in one hand and swinging at his open beer can with the other. He felt relieved and thought his father would assist him.
Ethan's father stopped and looked at all four of them.
"Want something?" the bald man said, letting go of Ethan and approaching, showing his piece to the older Marson.
Ethan's father lazily looked at the bald man and then at Ethan before swinging at his beer. "Nope, just going to my apartment."
Even as the words escaped his father's lips, a shot pierced his heart as he felt his last ray of hope throw him away. Somehow, he knew he should have expected this, yet some part imagined his father finally acting like one and risking his life to save his only child. It would have been like those movies or TV shows where the troubled father and son finally become a family. Yet that was just fantasy, and he lived in the real world. He was the bastard son of this alcoholic, who used him to get extra cash from government aid. Once Ethan reached eighteen, he would be no use to his father.
Ethan's attention drifted around. Toby and the ponytail man were ahead of him, almost having their backs turned toward him. Glancing to his side, he noticed someone had opened the door leading to the nearby stairs. Mindlessly, he moved and entered the stairway within seconds. For once, he was glad he was smaller than most boys.
As he descended the stairs, he could faintly hear the gangster speak up from where he came from.
"I thought so! Let's…. wait, hold on! Where the fuck did he go?"
Ethan hurried down the stairs.
"His name…. hmm, how about Conrad?" a voice said, looking at a blond-haired calico kat nursing a red fur kitten. Dark clouds covered her upper face, hiding her true identity from him. She turned her head in his direction. "Are thee not happy with thou name?"
"By the heavens, our son needs a better name than that…." the calico said. However, saying his name always came out deaf or a buzzing sound.
The tom nodded, heading to the mirror and looking at himself, seeing nothing but dark clouds hiding his figure. He looks down to see his shoeless, red-furred feet before looking back at the she-kat.
"How about…."
Pastmaster blinked, looking around before noticing he had fallen asleep on a massive book pile. He could not recall when he drifted, rarely falling asleep as he was dead and had no need for it. However, the same dream would occur when he did, always leaving him puzzled. Who was that she-kat? Who was that mysterious tom whose eyes he sees these dreams from? Then again, did it matter? He looked down and remembered going to sleep with a book on his paw.
Without another word, he opened the book, swishing each page and reaching the last pages within minutes. However, as he came to the last pages, he felt each turn take longer and be heavy like iron. With a curse under his breath, he closed the book and threw it behind him. Another of his books did not offer him a solution to his problem.
"Callista…. Give me strength," the Pastmaster whispered. He wished she could hold his hand again or feel her embrace. "I ask for your forgiveness yet again. I failed you once, and now…."
He lifted his watch and summoned a small portal showing the present-day Megakat City. The image shifts to different situations, kats, and problems occurring.
"Our beloved kingdom is now suffering a great deal. Oh, how I wished I had kept a better eye on these kats. However, they have too many strong kats causing problems. The lizard, the dark one, that one steel tom, and many more. I was one of them before… the citizens or their guards would not accept my help after the grief I caused them," Pastmaster said.
With a slide down, he reached the bottom and walked towards a stony window.
The room was his private library, with rows of bookshelves, which now stood empty. The wooden floors, the lit candles, and dark age furniture littered the area.
As he put his red skeleton arms on the window, his heart ached heavily despite his lack of organs. After getting blown back to the past, he caused problems in the past. He regretted his past actions that caused Callista pain and wished he had recognized the signs of her poor health. The moment whispers and gossip reached his quarters, his attention shifted.
From the shadows, the Pastmaster worked from morning till night to find something to cure the queen. The disease was incurable and seemed like a curse. Despite that, he attempted to find a cure. The queen noticed his presence at one point but did not push him away and instead thanked him for his help during the difficult period in her kingdom. It was fun for them both. The Pastmaster and queen went from adversaries to allies, and the queen accepted him as her husband in her last moments. He was ecstatic about her receiving him and getting what he always wanted, to bitter heartbreak when her time approached.
Before her demise, the queen assigned a last task to the Pastmaster. Support the kingdom's development and ensure its security. He agreed to do it, but as soon as the queen died, he lost sight of his goal and was in deep anguish. His madness led him to isolate himself from the world in the past. Days became years and then centuries. He finally escaped his madness after they replaced the kingdom with Megakat City. He observed a shattered city with insurmountable problems and overpowering omegas. A few words spurred him to continue his quest.
Chaos Reset.
"Chaos reset," the Pastmaster muttered, trying to spur his memories forward. "Chaos reset…. chaos reset."
Chaos Reset? The stranger thought as he perched above the little wizard from the wooden supports. Just as he was about to seize the Pastmaster, he paused upon hearing those words. He grabbed his chin and stroked his fur as he briefly collected the lost memories—a forbidden book that no mere soul should ever wield. The user always pays the same price - destruction, corruption, or even death. However, he smiled at the idea of chaos being released and put his paw before him.
"Forbidden Laws—Book!" the stranger whispered, which conjured a book, and it fell to the wizard below him.
The book landed with a heavy thud near the Pastmaster, who grabbed his watch and pointed toward the sound. He scanned the area, looking at the floor and then the ceiling.
"It's been a while!" the stranger said, dropping to the floor and looking at the wizard. He was going to say something, but he noticed the Pastmaster was still looking up.
"Hey! Don't ignore me, you little peasant!" the stranger growled, getting close and reaching for the wizard by the neck. However, to his shock, his paw went through the red skeleton face like a ghost. He pulled back and looked at his paw. "How can this be?"
Pastmaster did not answer him as he proceeded forward, going through the stranger's body and cautiously heading to where the book was. He used his other hand to pick up the book while keeping his watch up. Nothing happened for a few seconds until a gasp escaped his lips.
"This is… " Pastmaster shouted. He attempted to open the book, but it did not budge. "Why won't you open!"
Pastmaster snarled, throwing the book to the floor, and fired a beam of energy towards it, which bounced off and hit a nearby wall.
The stranger shook his head. "That won't work! You need to…." He stopped when he realized he could not remember how to open the book. He groaned, rubbing his head fiercely and watching the Pastmaster move….
Pastmaster approached the book and picked it up from the ground. Bitterness and a sense of loss filled him. He was close to achieving his objective and honoring his commitment. Despite his magic, the book was unaffected. Frustrated with his failed attempts, he silently meditated to plan his next move. He attempted to remember how he had opened it since he couldn't do it conventionally or by force. It was challenging to recall the memory, as it was unclear and removed from his past.
Pastmaster's flipped the book to the other side, hoping to find something. The snowy-covered book looked odd, its front and back glowing cosmic colors and words swimming around in a whirlpool. There was no latch on it, yet it felt like steel was gluing it together.
Heading towards a nearby desk, he placed the book on it and sat on the wooden bench. So many questions whirled in his head. Where did the book come from? How did he open it last time? Or was he still dreaming? The line between reality and delusion was becoming increasingly blurred, and he feared going insane. His heart yearned for his wife and more time, but he knew that time travel was not the solution to his loss. No matter how much he wished to return to the past, his limited powers made it impossible. The complexity of time laws dictates that two Pastmasters cannot coexist in the same timeline without causing irreparable damage.
The Pastmaster pulled his hood down, revealing his entire face, a red kat skull with a white mark on his head. He clasped both hands and put his head near them, praying to whoever would hear his plea.
"Please book. Can you lend me your powers to aid me in fixing my kingdom? My goal is to shift the balance and foundation of the world. I will give you anything you want. My life, my powers, my memories, and anything you wish. I beg you to help me in my time of need," he whispered to the book.
Initially, nothing seemed to happen until the book rattled on the desk. It continued for a few moments before coming to a stop. Pastmaster watched with bated breath as the book emitted a soft, golden glow, and the words on the cover stopped. The book's front cover opened quickly, revealing empty pages that glowed white. The pages turned, searching for something until they arrived at a specific part that showed the same white pages. However, the two pages formed content, forming a spell.
Pastmaster read the book, finding the words 'chaos reset' in the explanation. The Pendulum Breaker was the name of the spell. It brings forth an entity that is not supposed to exist. The balance of the world will shift and destroy the wheel of fates, creating something new. Whether it be good or bad, the fates will be reset.
The Pastmaster was unhappy about adding more problems to the city. His eyes scanned the end of the spell, which read that it would require his life to use the magic. He considered not doing the spell, but his late wife's words spurred him on.
He grabbed his watch and pointed it to the nearby space, summoning a portal to show Megakat City. It changed its image every minute, offering different things occurring in the city. The wizard observed the new and old omegas planning separately. Criminal empires were trying to gain control of the city. Corruption, loss, and civilians were trying their best with what they got. It reminded him of his failure to watch over the city and pained him as he stood by and let it happen.
He sat silently, breathing deeply and allowing his thoughts to drift away. Memories of his queen overwhelmed him, recalling the warmth of her embrace and the touch of her hand on his cheek. His arms stretched out to touch her, but the surrounding emptiness was all he felt. Upon opening his eyes, he frowned at seeing an empty room. The queen was no longer with him. He sighed deeply, bracing himself for what was to come. He carefully placed the watch before the book and chanted the spell.
Ethan was shaking and panting. He wanted to escape his current predicament in any way possible, but he was stuck in the elevator.
After getting away from the thugs, he hurried down the lower levels and hastily picked a floor when he heard them enter the stairwell. He had found himself on an abandoned floor and hid in the broken elevator's cracked opening in a panic. The idea was to wait until the next day, but the elevator moved when he jumped down, which moved it downward, blocking his only way out on the top. A sliver of light is visible from where he entered, diminishing every second.
"No, no, no," Ethan cried. The last light disappeared, and he was now in complete darkness. His leg felt like jelly, and he started panicking, curling into a ball on the elevator floor. Fear of the dark and the intimate space made him shudder, and he grabbed his handkerchief for comfort.
Ethan cursed his stupidity and wished he had picked somewhere else to hide. The building's other task occupied the mechanics, so it would take days to extract him. Fear hindered his ability to devise a solution, and he dwelled on dying alone.
Another thought came to him. His friend, or ex-friend, had betrayed him. The list of people who disappointed the boy so far hurt him, and adding his ex-friend made it worse. However, another part of him questioned whether he was a good friend, and maybe it was his fault that Toby quickly threw him under the bus. He thought about his father, the family photo he saw today, and the only adult that cared for him who was no longer alive.
His mind remembered when he ran away from home and met a professional thief in the streets of Finford's center. She tried to shoo him out, but he kept persisting in letting him become her apprentice after seeing her ability to pickpocket strangers. She angrily accepted him when he made too much commotion, almost alerting nearby police, and brought him to her trailer. He was seven then and spent three good years with her until it happened.
"Please, anyone, get me out of here. I'm done being here. I want to be somewhere else!" Ethan sobbed. He hated when he cried, feeling like the defenseless ten-year-old who wept for his adoptive mother to come back from the dead. "Zoe. Mom, please help me. I don't want to be alone. Please help me."
The elevator's light flickered, making Ethan stop and look up. Soon, the lights remained on, and the elevator descended, closing the doors shut. The sound of gears shifting and creaking metal filled the room.
Ethan sprang up, swishing his attention to the level marker, showing that he was moving down. Wiping his tears, he felt excited about the potential of exiting the elevator. He was grateful that someone had finally repaired the dangerous contraption.
Level 3… Level 2…. Level 1…
To Ethan's surprise, the elevator doors remained closed and descended beyond the lobby floor despite no lower level. His smile faded as the numbers scrambled and glitched out. Down, he kept going. It seemed like he was going to hell itself. A ding came on, marking that he had arrived at his destination, and the doors opened to darkness.
Ethan timidly approached the elevator's edge, unable to comprehend the darkness below. He wondered where he was and took a step forward, expecting to touch the ground, but his foot just kept going, and soon his whole body. Alarm bells went off in Ethan's head, and he desperately tried to reach back but lost his balance.
As Ethan turned to face it, the elevator began to close and vanish. Soon, he was back in the darkness and falling fast into the void. Suddenly, he felt like his body had broken through a wall. A cosmic light led him quickly, replacing the dark—the rush of falling kept increasing, becoming a blur to the boy's eyes.
He closed his eyes temporarily and reopened them when his body entered the water. There was no splash, and he just appeared underneath the water, which made him gasp in horror. He felt shocked that he didn't die from the impact. It was salty when it entered his mouth, and he desperately looked around for an exit, seeing some light above him.
Despite having never swum, Ethan tried to swim up and took a deep breath upon reaching the surface. A wave of water pushed him back down.
He eventually washed up on the wet, sandy beach. He was on his knees and tried desperately to gather himself, shaking violently and gasping for air as the softer waves touched his shoes.
Then he was out.
Flames engulfed the spell book. Then, a thud echoed in the room.
The Pastmaster glanced at where his left arm should have been, but it was gone, crumbling to dust on the floor. His feet gave way, and he was on his side on the floor. He has no regrets about what he has done and only hopes that whoever comes aids the broken city.
"I hope to see you soon, Callis…"
A cackle nearby broke his thoughts, and the Pastmaster weakly looked toward where it came from. The ashes of the book flew towards the bench, which slowly formed into a red kat with a patch of white fur on his nose, sitting with crossed legs on the bench.
Pastmaster tried lifting himself with his only hand till it gave way and dusted like his other hand. His face was on the floor, and he watched the stranger fearfully with his good eye.
"Who are you?" Pastmaster said.
"So, you can finally see me? It's great to be heard and seen finally. I would give a paw, but it seems both of yours are gone!" the kat laughed. He stood up, approaching and squatting near the Pastmaster, claws tapping the wooden floor.
"Now that I have your undivided attention and minimal time…. tell me, what is my name?" the red kat asked.
"I don't know you. What are you doing here?" Pastmaster asked, feeling his lower half disappearing.
The red kat looked annoyed and swiftly grabbed the pocket watch, putting it near Pastmaster's face. "I gave this watch to you. We made a deal in the distant past. Now, I need you to go through that head of yours and tell me quickly what my name is!"
Pastmaster felt confused at the tom's declaration that he gave his watch to him. For him, he had this watch from the very beginning. Yet, the more he thought about it, the more he realized he had no memories of the past. Who was he before the Pastmaster? Now that he recalls, he never thought about it till now and realized he had awoken with a strong desire to be with Callista. But why?
He felt a chill come from behind him, and soon, a wave of light flashed in his eyes. As he opened his eyes again, he was again in that room with that calico. The shadows on her face revealed her true identity, which shocked him as his eyes rested on the Callista. She frowned and tilted her head.
"Why are you crying?" Callista said.
"I'm what?" a voice said. "Huh? I'm not sure. Strange… I sense grief and longing coming from me. Why?"
Callista snorted and shook her head. "Has becoming a father opened your warrior's heart?"
A hearty laugh filled the room. "My queen. My mate. You have opened my heart long ago. However, I'm uneasy and wonder if I should seek aid from the council."
"Hmm… you should for later. Come and rest with me as we ponder our son's name."
The flash of light soon transported Pastmaster to different points of the tom's life. The memory halted in one spot. Through the eyes of the mysterious tom, he saw him meeting another tom who bore robes and a grimace on his face. Soon, a courier reported a situation with a dragon making trouble in a nearby village. The sick king orders the mysterious tom to go to the mountains to the dragon's reported home, which he obeys and heads off. However, Pastmaster felt a sense of dread and fear, feeling something was wrong, yet he could not warn the mysterious tom not to go.
The memory goes dark, and soon, the mysterious tom opens his one eye. The Pastmaster sees a couple of robed figures cackling and looking down at him. Even though he could not see it from the tom's view, he could feel the fresh missing eye and cuts that oozed blood. They growled about him messing up the agreement between the two kingdoms and how dare a lowly commoner breed a kitten with someone of royalty. Soon, the mysterious tom drifted into a long slumber.
A shadowy orb came. It said something, and the mysterious tom nodded in agreement. Then things faded again. The hazy ball was gone, and now a white tom with a patch of white fur was eyeing him down. A golden watch appears from thin air, and a red skeleton arm reaches for it.
Pastmaster gasped, coming back to his library and feeling coldness getting much colder. He moaned as the red kat shook him. Only his head remained, and he could do nothing as he rested in the palm of the red kat's paw. Suddenly, things were becoming apparent, and he felt the name of this kat coming to him, as well as some old memories.
"You?" the Pastmaster whispered. "Oh, by the gods. I had a son!"
The red kat's ears perked, putting Pastmaster close so they could be face to face. "Forget that. What is my name?"
Pastmaster felt cold, deciding to give up trying to stay awake and….
The stranger watched as the Pastmaster's head crumbled in his paw until only dust remained. His answers to solve his riddle blew away. He felt cheated. The little wizard was about to reveal something to him, but he died before he could say it. Now, he had nothing to go on, and he still was a stranger.
A roar erupted from his mouth, and he slammed his fist to the ground, blasting a dark purple wave around him. The bookshelves, books, and furniture smashed against the wall, breaking apart on the impact. He felt a bubbling sensation coming from within him, and he spread his hands out, letting the energy blow around him.
The wood split apart, the stones ripped away, and the swishing sound of a tornado blew everything away. The room was no more, only the floor beneath it. Only he stood in the room, feeling his fur bristle and claws extended as his eyes looked for anything to break. He wanted to squeeze the life out of something to quench his anger. He wanted to kill something.
The stranger would have continued his rampage on the castle, but a sudden wave of sleep hit him. The rest was not normal, and it reminded the stranger of how it felt when he awoke on the rock. He stood firm, growling in annoyance, uncertain if he wanted to endure another long waiting period to wake up. His anger quickly changed to calm thinking, wondering how to prevent his long slumber and if he could escape it.
From the corner of his eye, he saw another bright light zooming towards him and stopping near him. The portal opened and glowed its yellow light invitingly. Looking over the doorway, he saw a creature lying face down on the beach. He wondered why the portal would show him this creature till he smelled something delectable emanating from the being.
The stranger took a long whiff, and it caused him to shiver in excitement. "Oh, AH! That smell just makes you want to stay awake. That imbalance in the world! Aren't you an interesting thing!" he exclaimed as he hurriedly went through the portal.
Simon felt like he was dying. His heart was racing a million miles as he attempted to keep up with his partner, who was saying something, but his heart was beating too loud to hear. Maybe his partner was right, and he needed to train more. Then again, when do they ever work in the field from above? He shook his head, looking at the burly white-furred tom pulling ahead, wearing loose clothing to show off his muscles. It made him shiver to think that muscular body had pounded him an hour ago, and now they were running on the beach. Where the hell does Dex get his energy?
In all honesty, the view was not bad at all. Running around Megakat City's beaches when the sun was minutes away from coming up was a sight. Nobody else was around. They were the only toms outside, but beachgoers would soon flood this area as spring finally hit, and it would worsen during the summer. However, he wished to be like those beachgoers and lay on the sand with a nice cold lemonade instead of drenching from his brown fur.
Simon finally gave up, grabbing his knee and panting for air. He raised his head and yelled for the other tom. Why does he keep letting Dex get him to do stuff like this? Oh, right, he wants to get more involved with Dex's activities. To be fair, Dex had been attempting to try things he liked.
"C'mon, Dex, slow down," Simon said. Dex turned around and waved at him with a sheepish smile.
"Simon, you need to lay off those donuts. They are messing with you big time," Dex said. He laughed as he returned to Simon, who waved his hand in annoyance.
"No. You had the fastest time back in our academy days! Which is why you will always win with anything to do with cardio," Simon groaned. His partner was athletic, while he was more of a thinker. He looked towards the beach and watched the beautiful ocean before him.
From the corner of his eye, Dex was doing his victory walk like usual. Simon wished he could kick his partner's smug face clean off. Oh well, at least the scenery was magnificent to look at. The new year had just started, and they were already in February. He wonders what new things this year will bring and if maybe Dex will finally get on his knees.
The white sand would turn gold as soon as the sun was about to rise. A tiny figure was lying on the sand face down. Wait what? Simon whipped back to make sure.
"I'm bigger than you and faster than you! You should easily beat me in these races with your slight frame, bud. Now, what's the score, 5-2? You wanna do the usual and…" Dex stopped. He lifted his eyebrow and turned to look at where Simon was looking at.
"Hey, kit! You good?" Simon said. When he didn't hear a response, he paced himself. From behind, Dex followed him toward the beach.
Simon reached the spot first and readied himself to find a dead kit. He kneeled to check on the kit. The kit covered his face with his hand, and as soon as Simon moved it, his fur stood up, and he quickly jumped back. At this point, a dead kitten was what he expected, not a strange creature.
"Crud, that's no kit!" Simon said excitedly.
Dex also jumped when he saw the face of the creature.
"The hell is that!" Dex said while taking a defensive stance, readying for the creature to attack.
After a moment and nothing happened, Simon mustered enough bravery to move towards the thing. His partner looked on in horror. Soon, Simon was at arm's length of the creature, and he quickly nudged it, which only provided a groan. He got more confident and closer, poking it a few more times to see what it would do.
"Hey, stop fucking with it, let's call it… preferably a safe distance," Dex said.
"Come on, where's your sense of adventure… I didn't peg you as a scaredy kat," Simon said as he touched the creature's forehead. "Damn, is it running a fever?"
"Stop touching him! Let's call it!" Dex growled.
Simon inspected the alien from top to bottom, musing to himself when no tail was located and wondering what sex it was. It had the features of a kit, but it was not kat but something else. Examining this creature was a blast, and he asked himself if it could speak. The beast wore clothes and appeared bipedal like them. He grinned and glanced back at his partner, who gave him a stern look.
"All right! I'm done. Don't get your tail stuck," Simon said, standing up and moving a foot away from the creature.
Dex opened his mouth to say something but froze, shivering and pointing at Simon.
Simon wondered what his partner was pointing at till he heard shuffling behind him. He felt his heart leap as he spun around and dropped back. The creature moaned, getting on its knees before tumbling to the side. It would have been funny if it was a kat drunk on his ass, but it was a creature unknown to them and moving. It now faced the sky above, slowly raising itself to a sitting position.
The creature groaned when the sun's bright light attacked its eyes. Squinting and blinking at the sunlight, it faced Simon. Simon became anxious when the creature stared at him but appeared disoriented. It looked in the direction from where the sun appeared.
"Huh… I'm…. at the beach," it said weakly before collapsing. It fell asleep, and it started muttering unintelligible words.
Simon looked at his scared friend. "I think it's asleep."
Dex shook his head and looked around. "I think there's a restaurant nearby that opens early. As much as I hate this, I'll head over there and call for help. Secure the scene and make sure nobody comes near…. Whatever this is."
"Roger. If only we were born rich, we could have those fancy phones and call it," Simon said.
Dex nodded, turning towards a direction before halting and spinning back around with a hiss. "Don't touch it. Don't poke it. Don't do anything you hear!"
Simon threw his hands up. "Yes, mother."
"Your mom would kill me if you got hurt."
"Please, my mom loves ya. Just hurry, you big lug."
Dex made a face before shaking his head and hurrying away. He made one last call out, "And so do I! So, stay safe!"
Simon blushed while observing his partner disappear from his sight. Once alone with the extraterrestrial, he turned to face it. The tiny animal shivered and curled up, grumbling something in its slumber. Although Dex's words echoed in Simon's ear, his instincts informed him that the thing was a cold kitten. He moved closer to it until he was sitting beside it. By placing his paw on the small thing, he guided it towards himself, feeling it nudge closer to his body.
"I hope you don't eat me, small thing," Simon said, laughing as it mumbled things. He looked back toward the city's center and frowned. "Hopefully, you aren't bad like the previous visitors. We need a break from that. But for now… my name is Simon Gester. What is your name?"
AN:
6/13/2023 - Did clean up, add, or reword some passages. Extended Chance's scene! Hopefully, you guys will enjoy the changes as I update the following chapters. I want more focus and depth with the characters. Eliminate head hopping and create a better flow! Until next time!- GreyDog
8/28/23 - Did some more cleanup. I am fixing POV issues. I resolved some cases where I would tell you things instead of showing them. I'm satisfied with this chapter and will move to the following chapters. I have been working on every chapter since the last chapter, and I apologize for taking a bit to get new chapters up. I want to fix the twenty chapters and the pacing of different things. I hope to get all twenty chapters' new versions up by early October. NOTE: The main story will stay the same, but there will be some additions to the chapters or elimination of things (e.g., Ethan's father breaking Ethan's hand by accident, which would be brought forth when something makes Ethan reveals about his terrible childhood)
Seeing the show again, I rarely see phones with only radios, home phones, or those brick-like radios used by characters. I'm trying to grasp the show's world, where they are technologically advanced but still live in the 90s.