Okay, first of all, the story line is these devices that are numbered in roman numerals. People wish to steal them for power, but in order to use these you must have a key. These keys are rare. They can lead you to the devices as well. But you have no idea what device. Second, this takes place in a time of war in another dimension. People I know in real life were used to create these characters and are based after their or close to their personalities. Things are not the same as the real world for obvious reasons. Any way, onto the pieces, tell me what ya think.
Chris kept slashing, his bronze swords glittering red from where I had missed blocking. My dark hair stuck to my face in sweat, as did his.
He paused, "This can all end Justin, all you have to do is give me number XIII and your key."
I sighed, then looked up at the familiar face of the man I've fought with since the disaster in my land. I could remember my mother's last words... a chill went down my spine. I snapped back to reality when a fire combusted at my boots; even through the leather I could feel the heat. I stepped back, and tripped.
Chris frowned, "Look Justin, I don't want to be against you, but you continue to fight for a lost cause. I know you don't wish to give up, but... please. Just end this."
I grimmest, "Lost cause, huh?" Just months ago your agreed with me, we had to stop the wars between these three tyrants.
He looked down a bit, then laughed a bit. I cocked an eyebrow.
He looked up, "I just remembered how we met."
With that he lunged at me, he was wearing number II, and his swords caught flame. I jumped back, then did a quick 'summon,' a wolf made of pure sound molecules that moved so fast it could been seen in detail. It leaped on him, pinning him down. I walked forward, but to my surprise, I fell.
"I own numbers X and XI as well, Justin."
I looked at the fresh wound, pouring red rain from itself.
I looked up at him, and smiled, "I remembered too."
Justin fell to the ground. I collapsed, from my fear, lack of energy, and sorrow. I cried, I, Chris Diebold, cried. I had just killed a fifteen year old, a fifteen year old who was my best friend. No, not my best friend. The person I would worry when he was late to get to a rendezvous, the person I would trust with my life, and the person I would protect no matter what. And he's gone, because of me.
End of chapter or what ever, beginning of new chapter after this one:
Justin gasped; blood pouring from his lips. He looked up to Chris, the older teen's eyes wide at what he had just done. The sword, a deadly weapon, was sheathed within the body of the younger boy. Chris let go of his weapon; stepping back in shock. Their eyes watered, in sorrow and anger that they wouldn't be able to continue on in their journey together; even as foes. Justin fell to the ground, the pool of blood around him showed the reflection of the demon within him, screaming and reathing. Its eyes were bright blue, its hair pitch black, skin pale. Suddenly it was gone, and the younger boy was silent, non moving. Chris dropped to his knees, picking up the being he loved, and had killed. He clung to his lovers body in dread and remorse.
"All for one," Chris stammered, "One of fifteen..."
With that he kissed his lover's dead lips, removed the key necklace on his belt loop, and took number XIII, the leather bracelet of sound and sonics.
No comments:
Post a Comment