Those of you who follow me and got a ping for this new story but a different synopsis... that story is one of the other ones i am working on and I had just written a chapter, so it was raw in my mind and I accidentally gave that one's story instead of this one. So, some of you have prior knowledge of what the next story will be about. But you have to wait for Thames Bay as I want at least ten chapters done before sharing sorry.
.
.
2
Not all areas had welcomed the Visitors, not all had been so open and willing to accept what had come, what had been left behind. On the outer reaches of the Boeshane Peninsula, a small colony experienced an explosion of children, just like everyone else.
It was a quiet and reserved Javic Thane who watched his mother labor and the entrance of his little brother Gray. It was not a day of celebration, as five other mothers gave birth at the same time. This was not something to celebrate at all. There was an uneasy feeling shared among them, something was not quite right.
Once the births were done and the dams had recovered, they moved. They continued to move each season and did not tell anyone the ages of the children, hiding their Gifts. Jack and the other older children spent their time learning to lie, to hide their younger siblings, and to watch for signs of danger.
When they came ten years after the first visitation, the colony thought they were safe, hidden away, and unable to be found or harmed. They believed their isolation would protect them from any further disturbances.
But … yeah, it's becoming quite the theme, isn't it.
Man being a Fucktard?
The days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, as the children grew under the constant watchful eyes of their guardians. Jack and his friends dedicated themselves to honing their skills, preparing for any threat that might come their way. They learned to communicate in secret, using hand signals and coded messages, always vigilant, always ready.
The quiet nights by the campfires were filled with whispered stories of the past, of how life used to be before the Visitors. The elders spoke of lost traditions and forgotten ways, trying to instil a sense of history and identity in the young ones. The children listened with wide-eyed wonder, their imaginations painting vivid pictures of a world they had never known.
As the seasons changed, so did the landscape around them. The once familiar terrain became a labyrinth of memories and mysteries. Every tree, every rock, every shadow held a story, a secret to be uncovered. The children explored with a sense of adventure, their laughter echoing through the quiet forests, momentarily forgetting the dangers that lurked beyond.
But in the back of their minds, the fear remained. They knew that one day, the peace they had carved out for themselves would be shattered. They could only hope that when that day came, they would be ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.
Man is a fucktard, they thought, but they knew they had no choice but to fight, to protect what little they had left. Their bond grew stronger with each passing day, a brotherhood forged in the crucible of survival.
And so they waited, ever watchful, ever prepared, knowing that their time would come. And when it did, they would stand together, ready to defend their home, their family, and their future.
I must repeat myself… man is a fucktard.
.
.
Someone narked.
.
.
They came in the afternoon when the kids had been allowed off their school studies, laughing and chasing one another in the sand dunes, their Doggos running with them making loud chirping noises of glee.
It was Jack who first noticed the sudden silence.
Then he noticed that his Doggo was looking up at the sky with something akin to confusion and he looked up too. In time to see the first of the raiders coming, he called out as he started to run for his little brother whom he had promised to defend always. The Golden Child, the 'Gifted' one. Gray.
They all scattered as Jack dragged Gray up the sand dunes towards the treeline where he knew his father would meet them, no doubt running from the village with a matching sense of doom. Gray was tugging back in his hand, calling for his Doggo that was still barking as it ran in circles under the low flying vessels, all the other Doggos doing the same and as the first child was plucked up by the weird golden light emanating from one of the vessels Jack began to scream for his father.
Still, he ran and dragged… even as Gray felt light, all of a sudden the ground seemed to move and he looked back with horror as the brother he loved so much was floating in the air, the golden beam of light holding him… them. Jack instinctively wrapped his arms around his brother, screaming with pain and rage as the light seemed to affect him differently to his brother who was confused and afraid, but not in pain as he seemed to calm and become almost hypnotized by the golden lights swirling around them like gold dust now.
Then the vessel came into view, Jack writhing and gnashing his teeth as he struggled to maintain his grip on Gray but then came a blinding flash of pain that was so excruciating that Jack screamed with agony, finally letting go of his brother to fall back towards the ground, stunned and broken.
Franklin arrived in time to see his beloved youngest son disappear into the bowels of the vessel and his older son falling like a rag doll. He could only watch with horror as Jack smashed into the ground from over fifty feet up and bounced, like an apple from a tree.
Franklin ran to Jack, as did others who had witnessed and soon it was viral, the video footage of Jack falling from the sky as his brother was taken. Jack was badly hurt, and it was several days before they knew if he would survive. He never spoke of it, what he saw in those few scant moments he was inside the ship, of the thoughts he felt, endured or the fact he had healed so quickly and… thoroughly.
It was spoken of quietly amongst the elders and agreed to never be spoken of again. Jack was not one of the Gifted but it seems that beam of light had done something to him. Something… amazing. He should have died not… simply… woken up.
And finally… for the first time… the world reassessed its opinion of the Visitors.
.
.
Ianto had hidden on the day of the Reaping, fuelled by one of his 'feelings' that he always listened to. There were three of them that were friends in the housing estate, three little mutant fuckers who did not join the others in their stupid 'Gifted Studies', did not show themselves and did not agree with the status quo that it was a gift from the gods that caused all of this.
No, Ianto had one of his feelings in his 'waters' and he had headed straight for his two best friends not even having to speak as he gave the hand motion for their hiding place and as it all rampaged up top with children being taken for testing by the strange golden light with none coming back, three little beasts stood in the underground bunker that had been a World War II bomb shelter and was lead lined by the eccentric old man that had owned the building complex.
By the time they ventured topside it was chaos and not everyone was pleased.
Apparently, some kids had been snatched in broad daylight, and it seemed apparent after some days that they were not being returned.
"And as so he giveth… so he can take away" Ianto muttered to himself as he stood with a friend on either side of him, both of them clutching his hands tightly as they silently agreed not to speak of their gifts, as Ianto had schooled them since they are old enough to understand his intent. Old enough to know he was their leader.
Oh yeah…..
And that Man was a Fucktard.
