Tuesday, July 26, 2011

Happy [First Half] Belated Birthday Nyx, Hellboy, Sarthacus, Nicolette and Niall!

 Author's note
Hey, Nyx, Hellboy, Sarthacus, Nicolette, and Niall! 
Happy Belated Birthday! :D
I've been writing this for ages, and yet it's still not done :P
Ah, well, I suppose I'm a slow writer! Anyway, I thought I'd split it into two halves [although the second half will most likely be shorter, just so you know...] so that it's at least posted in the month of July xD 
Hopefully, the next part will be written more quickly :P And I hope you all enjoy it!
Once again, I wish Nyx! Happy Belated birthday, you birthday girl! It's the most belated for you, actually, since your birthday was on the 1, but at least it's here, right? :D
Happy Belated Birthday, Hellboy!
Happy Belated Birthday, Nicolette!
Happy Belated Birthday, Sarthacus!
All of your birthdays birthdays were on the 9th! :D
Happy Belated Birthday, Niall!
Birthday of the 20! 
I tried to get this short story fan-fic written by then, but alas, I failed...
Anyway, you're all Birthday Girls and Birthday Boys today and when I post the next half as well, so...
Happy Birthday!!!!!

The day began as any other for Israel, awaking reasonably late, having stayed up into the wee hours last night playing video games in his mansion, Elysium Asylum. Next, it was time to eat "breakfast" at 2 PM, nodding to the cook solemnly in an appearance of guilt as he was berated for not eating breakfast in the morning like normal people rather than the afternoon, but then Israel pointed out that he really wasn't a normal person, earning him a glare and lump on the head from his nemesis... The Ladle....
At 4 o'clock, was planned a little get together with some friends of Israel's. And by "get together" he really means insane competition between four friends and possibly some random strangers at laser tag. He grinned. This was going to be fun!


With black, gold tipped hair dancing about her shoulders, Nyx Dawn pulled up to her destination on her fiery red motorcycle. She parked and examined the building. It looked like any other, aside from the big, burgundy  "Laser Tag" written on the front. 
Her watch read 3:49 P.M. So eleven minutes til Sarthacus, Israel, and Nicolette should get there. They hadn't seen each other for months, being busy out of country and all. So this would be a nice reunion. 
Nyx climbed off her bike, eyes glowing a light blue. She entered the building and proceeded upstairs to the observatory to await their arrival. 
A game began, a few people entered the dim, smoky and flashing arena below her. All had on sort of vests, some blue, some red, that flashed when they got shot by laser guns held by their opponents. A simple enough game, traversing the slopes and dips within the arena, trying not to shoot a mirror rather than an actual foe, and earning points yourself by "killing" the opposing team. All this made better by the smoke filling the room, the flashing lights, and the loud music. Looked fun! And what better way is there to catch up with friends than to hunt them down and shoot them with lasers? Nyx grinned as her eyes changed to a more shocking green. This was her kind of reunion.

Electric green eyes
A flash of gold
The ninja, red and black
A foe she spies
She slinks in close, ever bold,
Yet planning a simple attack

She stalks not a moment more
 But leaps from behind
 Her laser gun fires a blast of red light
Nic spun and swore
As her teeth did grind
"Not very polite!"

Nyx laughed with glee
Then danced away
Another foe was in her sight
She'd win, she did decree!
But alas, she's shot! Oh, he would pay
Mwahaha just wait, you, til the next epic fight!


Sarthacus Bolt, with his back to the wall, moved silently to the corner, always being sure no one was sneaking up from behind. Smoke wafted about his feet, lights flashed, red and blue, and thrilling music filled his ears. He rather enjoyed this game!
He edged closer to the side, carefully peering beyond. Ah-ha! An opponent, like he thought! She was facing away, so rather than perform a sneak attack, he casually stepped from behind the wall, lifted his gun, and gleefully shot her. He was grinning at his little victory when she turned around.
It was no one he knew. Her hair was dyed a dark green. It was straight, but cut jaggedly, creating an odd appearance. She was incredibly thin and kind of hunched over with her hands thrust in her pockets. But what caught Sarthacus's attention was her eyes. They were a deep and dark blood red with occasional ripples like someone had just thrown a pebble into a lake. Sarthacus stared into those eyes, his smile slowly disappearing; he couldn't seem to look away. It hardly registered that the girl had raised her hand to her black lips, a slender wooden tube held delicately between two fingers. She exhaled, and he felt a small prick in his neck.
Then he was feeling a falling sensation, but couldn't stop himself. It seemed like it went on forever, plummeting in slow motion, falling and falling.
Blackness suddenly filled his vision, and he knew nothing else.


Nicolette moaned as she slowly came back to consciousness. She had a headache. She hated headaches. Her blue streaked, brown hair was sticking to her face and neck. She tried to move her arms from their uncomfortable position beneath her, but realized they were handcuffed. Her eyes flew open to see, well, nothing. It was too dark. Was her magic sealed? It was. She grunted, annoyed.
Where was she? What had happened? She thought back. She'd been playing Laser Tag and was closing in on Nyx to get her revenge, but then what? She slightly recalled feeling a prick on her neck, and now she was here. Must have been a poisoned dart. She sat up, wriggling her arms beneath her chained legs and out in front. There, that's much better.
Now, to think about her current predicament. Her wrists are cuffed, powers sealed, and legs chained together so she could only take baby steps, oh yeah, and she couldn't see her hands right in front of her face. What if they had brought her here to torture her? Nicolette's heart quickened. She didn't think she could stand to be tortured. Maybe they would do it with night vision goggles so they could see her, but she couldn't see them. Then she wouldn't know what they were doing to her; she would know only the pain as they seared her flesh or cut into the most sensitive parts of her. They would see everything and grin, laughing horribly at her agonized screams...
Nicolette shook her head violently. She must not think in that irrational way. If she continued to shiver in a corner about something that may not have even been considered, there was no way she'd ever escape.
Her hands reached out into the darkness to try to at least find a wall, just as a voice said in a very low tone, "Ah, I see you're awake. Didn't think you were dead, but couldn't be sure."
Nicolette froze. It was a man's voice, or rather, it sounded more of a boy's. Nicolette thought for a moment, momentarily wondering if she'd done wrong by alerting her captors of being conscious, but realized she couldn't have known they were watching her. So she asked the most obvious question, "Who are you?"
"Oh, me?"
She sensed that he shrugged slightly. "No one you know."
"Well, duh," she rolled her eyes. "I would have recognized your voice were you someone I knew... unless you're Bob Contrast, in which case you'd change your voice just to annoy me..., but then you said you're no one I know, so again I ask: who are you?"
The voice chuckled, very casually. Nicolette tried to judge how close he was, but there was an echo making it difficult to guess.
"Well if you want to know my name, you should have asked in the first place. That would have made things much clearer, don't you think?"
Nicolette didn't reply and sensed another bit of a shrug from the boy.
"...My name is Montblanc.... Niall Montblanc."


Niall finally closed the magic book he was reading, having finished it, and glanced up at the clock on the far wall. Five P.M. already? Well, time certainly does fly when you're reading a good book! He stood up, slowly running his hand through his tar colored hair and stretching. It was time to leave. After all, he really didn't particularly want the owner of this book to find him sprawled out on his sofa reading it.
A car pulled into the driveway outside. 
Uh-oh. Yes, it was definitely time to leave. He slipped into the kitchen at the back of the house and went through the door there, closing it silently as he left. He crept around the house and carefully gazed beyond. The car beeped as it locked, and the house's front door closed. Niall made a run for it.
Ten minutes later, being absolutely certain the sorcerer hadn't discovered the break in and was hunting him down, he paused to take a moment's rest. That's when something very interesting happened. He was standing at the back of a row of buildings as he witnessed it. Down the ways a bit was the back of Laser Tag. He remembered seeing it when he came by here the first time. A van was parked there now, but what was really interesting, was that there was an incredibly thin girl, looking no more than 18 or 19, with green hair who was carrying a grown man over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes.  
She didn't bother to check if she was being watched, rather, she simply pulled wide open the back of the van, tossing the man in. Before she closed it however, Niall saw four people laying awkwardly inside. One of them, a different man, moaned slightly, and the green haired woman paused a second, then moved her fingertip over the man's lips. On it formed a drop of some type of liquid. The moans stopped immediately. She slammed the door shut, and trudged, hunched and hands thrust in pockets, to the drivers seat. 
Niall realized he had to know more; it wasn't everyday you met someone that could form a drop of poison from their very own skin. 
The van's engine roared, Niall watching carefully. Which way would it turn? It turned right just as adrenaline filled Niall's veins. He leaped over a fence, swerving suddenly around two more buildings before scaling another fence and spotting the the van turning down a narrow lane. Over another fence, and he was dashing through a neighborhood, trying to avoid completely ruining the many flowerbeds around here. Man, what was it with these people and flower beds? Didn't they know they were awfully hard to maneuver when chasing a van carrying four possibly dead victims and an adept woman with green hair who could very well be a serial killer?
Apparently not.
The van turned onto yet another street, but before long, it finally pulled into the cracked driveway at a very ramshackle house at the end of the street. Niall slipped behind the row of houses next to the one the van was stopped. Hunched girl, as Niall decided to call her, got out once more, this time glancing around a bit before opening the doors and carrying in her first victim, a girl with blue streaks in her brown hair.
Hunched Girl kicked open the back door of the house, stepped inside, and soon returned for the next, and the next, and the next. After the last one, she didn't come out for about 20 minutes, but reappeared to get into her van once again and drive off.  
Niall waited another five minutes to be sure she was really gone. Satisfied, he slunk to the same door she had, and twisted the knob. Yes, it was unlocked, good. The door, with it's rusty hinges complaining, swung open with a creak. There wasn't any light in there at all. He felt along the wall and found a switch to flick. A naked, dust and cobweb covered light bulb fluttered to life. He was in the middle of a hall- it's walls covered in a rustic type of wallpaper that was pealing away at the corners- so could go either right or left.
He chose to go left. There was only one door down this way, and it was at the very end. He reached it, opened it, and saw a descending row of cement steps. So that's not creepy at all. Oh wait, yes it is. Niall shivered a bit, but figured he was into it this much, there was naught to do but go on. So he went on, and it got darker and darker as he did so. The only light was coming from that one bulb upstairs. Ah, finally, the end, but the moment his foot hit the floor below the final step, he felt his powers sealed. Hmm, this may be the place he was looking for.
His hand reached out into the black in search of another light switch. Fingers fumbling across the wall, he found it and flipped it. Nothing happened. Well, that creates a bit of a predicament. Light blinked into life above him all of a sudden. Oh, good.
He examined the room he was in. It seemed there were four separate rooms here, one in each corner. The only open space in between was what might have well been hallways, they were so narrow. The walls of each were black, as were the doors, and they had numbers on them. 
He stepped towards the door on his left, number one, and opened it, entering. The walls in here were all black as well. In the middle of the room, filling almost all of it, was a large octagon of glass. The glass was the kind, though, that was transparent for him, but looked like a mirror to the one inside, and in this dim light, he could only imagine how dark it was for someone in there. 
Niall stepped close to the glass and peered in. The ground fell down somewhat inside the glass and down there, laying uncomfortably on her side, lay one of the victim's of Hunched Girl. This one was the girl with the blue-streaked brown hair. Her hands were cuffed behind her back and her ankles were chain together.
She shifted a bit. Her hazel eyes flew open and she sat up, looking around. She gave grunt of annoyance, possibly realizing opening her eyes didn't help her in the slightest, and moved her arms underneath her til they were in front. After a moment, the girl's hands reached out in the darkness.
Niall decided to make himself known.


Israel Elysium's ears heard something. Something that was odd. Something that didn't quite fit. Something that needed an Israel that was awake. His gold flecked and glowing green eyes showed themselves. He didn't move anything more than those eyes for a moment, not only because he could feel his hands chained together and his powers sealed, but also because he wanted to get any information he could before whomever had kidnapped him discovered he was awake.
The room he was in was well lit. From what he could see at that point of view, it seemed  he was in an octagonal room with walls made of mirrors. He was laying on cement and, over there in the corner of his eye, was that a rusted grate? His head moved just a fraction to get a better look. It seemed there had been a largish grate on the wall, like a smaller cage for the one he was in, but it had been opened and laying next to it was a dagger, the steel of it reflecting the light into his eyes. Israel pondered what this could possibly mean. 
But it could mean only one thing: that whatever had been kept in there was out now and most likely locked inside with him.
Of course, at the very moment he realized that, a menacing snarl emanated from behind his prone form. His heart rate quickened considerably at the sound of it, and adrenaline immediately pulsed through his veins. But he restrained himself from making any sudden movements for fear of startling the creature into an attack, even though he very much wanted to leap from the ground and make a mad dash for that dagger. 
Instead, Israel very, very, slowly moved his chained hands beneath his chest, pushing himself from the ground as his knees moved forward and under as well until he was finally on hands and knees. Another threatening snarl echoed towards him. Israel could tell it was closer this time, and it sounded quite a bit like it wasn't very happy at all with Israel. Either that, or it was just deciding he would make a rather ravishing meal. Whichever it was, he wasn't the happiest he could be right about then.
Israel tilted his head half an inch to try to see, at the very least, what this creature, whether is be monster or animal, was. Ah, there it is, he could see it. 
It was an animal about the size of a dog. It was brown and furry, resembling a small bear. The creature was a wolverine, and most definitely not at all tickled pink about being trapped in here. Drool dripped past it's barred fangs. Oh joy, it was rabid and, with Israel's luck lately, probably quite hungry.
Israel looked back at his only weapon and lifted one hand from the ground, very tentatively outstretching it for the dagger. The wolverine snarled once again, but it didn't stop there this time. It loped towards him at an alarming speed, leaping when it got close enough and landing on Israel's back but falling onto his leg. It's jagged teeth grinned up at him with a sickening glimmer before savagely tearing into the back of his right calf. Israel yelled out in pain and forced his shaking hand to grab the dagger laying before him. He swung around as best he could stabbing the mad creature. The knife slid about halfway into the body of it. Alas, it pierced nothing but flesh, but it was enough to get it off of him. Israel leaped to his feet, leaning heavily on his left leg as blood dripped alarmingly quickly through his shredded black jeans on his right. He really needed to visit Ghastly soon.
The wolverine glared at him for a moment as a thick drop of blood splashed onto the cement from the gash on it's side. Israel grinned. "Didn't know I'd fight back, did'ya?"
It didn't bother to reply but came back at him, jumping with claws outstretched. It was so quick. Israel dodged to the side, the wolverine catching him on his brown jacket and clinging, the jacket tearing a bit. Israel crashed to the ground, and the bloodied dagger flew from his grip, landing across the room and clattering on the cement. The wolverine fell too, but it was back at him in a second, leaping into the air, aiming for his face.
At the last possible second, Israel raised his fists, chain between them taut. The wolverine couldn't change its course so crashed into it, and Israel immediately wrapped the chain tightly around its neck. The mad creature clawed and hissed as best he could through it's blocked airway, but Israel held on viciously. "You do not rip my jacket and get away with it. That was a bad move, Wolverine, and very silly of you, really. Surely you must have known you would never get away with it?"
The animal jerked only with spasms now.
"No? Well, now you won't make that mistake again, will you?"
The wolverine would never move again.
Israel stood slowly- his leg searing with pain now that he wasn't in so much of an adrenaline rush- and thought he might have become a bit delirious. He stumbled around the dead body and over to the dagger, picking it up and moving on to the cement steps he'd seen. At the top, he looked up and down at the mirror, wondering how to get out. He thought perhaps he could slide it, so lifted his hand, the wolverine's blood smeared on it, and placed it on the door. Before he could attempt to slide it, however, a bit of the blood got onto the glass, and the door swung open before him. "Er... ok, that's alright with me, hahahaha!" Wait, why was he laughing? He shrugged and went through the door.


"...My name is Montblanc.... Niall Montblanc, but what the real question is, is who are you?"
"No, no, I think I had the question right the first time." She nodded slightly. "And if you don't already know who I am, why would I inform the person that may have very well kidnapped me in the first place?"
"I didn't kidnap you. I followed the person that did."
"So... you just happened to see him kidnapping me and rather than, say, call the police or copy his license plate number, you decided to follow this person who could, by the way, be a serial killer or someone who just enjoys... torture." Nicolette shivered at that statement, but went on nonetheless. "Yeah..., that makes perfect sense!"
"Well, I thought it would be a bad idea to call the police seeing as the person who kidnapped you is an adept. I memorized the license plate number at first glance, and thought it would be a good idea to follow this person  -who's a girl, fyi, and not a "him"- so that I would know exactly where she was keeping you and her other kidnapp-ies. Then after she left, well, I thought I might just come in here and check it out to see if I could find you and perhaps rescue you, and here you are, and here am I. So, to sum it all up, I think I did a pretty good job."
"Right, well, let me ask you this, does anyone know you're here?"
Niall was slightly taken aback, "Wha-? Well.... uh... no..."
Nicolette stood and shook her head sadly in the dark chamber, saying in a rather sarcastic tone, "That's rather disappointing, Mr. Montblanc, I was hoping you'd know that one, very important rule. I mean, seeing as you were so smart in everything else and all." she rolled her eyes and began taking baby steps, her feet chained and arms outstretched.
 "Well, since you're here," she went on, "You say this girl that captured me is an adept. How do you know that?"
"I saw her poison one of you when he was waking up."
"Ok? That could just mean she had poison with her."
"No, she didn't, I saw it very clearly. The poison came directly from her skin."
Nicolette's hand found one of the walls and began gingerly sliding it around with a slightly confused expression. "That's interesting, but you said- Hey, is this a mirror?"
"What? I didn't say anything about a mirror..."
"No, I mean what I'm touching. Apparently you can see me, so what am I touching?"
"Oh, all the walls in the room you're in are made of glass that looks like a mirror to you but is transparent for me like in all those cop shows. Here, I'll try to find the door."
"Alright. Now, you said something about others of us that this adept girl-"
"I call her Hunched Girl."
"- had kidnapped. Who were they, or at least, what did they look like?"
Niall slowly circled the glass walls, examining them very closely, "Well, there was one girl other than you and she had black, but gold tipped hair."
"That's Nyx Dawn..."
"And there were two guys-"
"One with dark brown hair and the other dark and kinda long hair?"
"Yup, that's them! You know them? ...Ah-ha!"
"I do know them, Israel Elysium and Sarthacus Bolt. All four of us were together when we were kidnapped. And why did you just yell 'Ah-ha'?"
A silhouette appeared across the room in a doorway. "I found the door!"


 Nyx Dawn jerked awake. The room was filled with smoke and immediately made her cough and splutter, getting into her lungs and hurting her throat, as her eyes teared up. The weird thing was, she couldn't see anything. No light or fire or llamas anywhere! It was as black as pitch and as hot as the sun beating down on you and burning your flesh in the middle of a desert. She covered her face the best she could with her arm, but it didn't help much. Where on earth was she? Did she have amnesia? She hated having amnesia! Nyx growled, trying to remember how she got here, her eyes shifted from surprised yellow to angry black.
She got on her hands and knees, crawling through the smoke and trying to at least find a wall. Hand. Knee. Hand. Knee. Hand. Knee. Head bump. She coughed again as her hand reached out to feel along it. It felt like glass. She stood up slowly, stretching her arms as far up and to the sides as she could. Everything felt like glass.
Another coughing spasm racked her stomach, and she was back on her knees. She crawled along next to the wall, trying to find something besides the glass. Ah-ha! What was this? It was cement like the ground except a little higher up. Was it a stair? She felt up it some more and found another one. Good, something normal! Nyx crawled up them awkwardly, getting to the top and feeling what was there. It felt the exact same except for the feeling of thin lines running into the shape of a large rectangle. So a glass door? But there wasn't a doorknob. She stood up once more, wishing she had her necromantic dagger, but knowing as soon as she woke up that it had been taken from her. She was not happy about that.
She lifted her leg and kicked at the wall before her. It vibrated a little bit, but did nothing more. She coughed and covered her nose and mouth with her shirt, trying to get fresher air. She kicked again and again, coughing and gagging while doing it.
Did it shake a little more that time? She gathered her strength, focusing it into her leg as much as possible, and slammed it into the door with all the might she could muster. The sound of shattering glass filled her ears. She stumbled back a step, covering her head from the falling glass, and looked up. Nothing. She could still see nothing but darkness. A fluttering filled her heart with fear, but she pushed it down and stepped up the stairs once more, her arms stretched out before her.


Sarthacus Bolt awoke to the melody of crickets. His blue eyes were filled with the sight of trees, vines, bushes, and a blue sky. He gazed at the sky. It really was a deep blue. And those clouds, they looked rather, well, flat. Wait, that's not the sky. It's a blue ceiling, and his powers were sealed. He sat up with a look of confusion, and realized he was sitting on a round platform of cement. All around the platform was grass and greenery... a forest.
Why was he in jungle-room? The last thing he remembered was shooting that green haired girl with the laser gun. Now he was here. 
A slip of paper fell from his hand as he was reaching up to comb his long, dark locks from his eyes. He noticed a flutter and glanced down. A piece of parchment? And beside it also lay a fixed knife, it's deadly blade recently sharpened. Sarthacus picked up the tattered paper, unfolded it, and peered it in interest.

Oh, great, it was a riddle. He hated riddles. Sarthacus went over it once more in his head.

To escape this cage,
There's something you'll need:

Ok, so that proved he had been kidnapped and was being held in this weird cage. Apparently, he could also escape, but had to find something.

A sliver of silver beneath a heart pumping rage
In what you may dislike, you must succeed.

Hmmm... what could a sliver of silver be? Maybe a key? Sarthacus realized he'd just rhymed unconsciously and cursed, correcting his thoughts. What could be the sliver of silver the riddle had spoken of? Much better. Ok, possibly it's a key, but what of the "Beneath a heart pumping rage"? That didn't sound very good. Nor did the next line. He didn't particularly like doing things he didn't like...

Beside a cypress is your destination,
In murky depths lays the key.

A cypress tree... Didn't Skyril once talk about cypress trees? But what did she say about them? Hm, something to do with where she was born. Urm, where was she born again? Sarthacus decided then and there that he would listen more closely to Skyril's stories.
Now, he knew it was the United States, but where there? Texas? No, Indiana? No, wait, it was Louisiana! Ha! He remembered! Nevermind about listening to Skyril's stories! So, what did cypress trees have to do with Louisiana?
Then it hit him. Swamps, cypress trees grow in swamps. Great, he was going to have to dive into a swamp to find a key? That's what the riddle sounded like...

Hold tight to your breath when with the swamp's mutation!
The bowels of the beast you must free!

Yup, he was going to have to dive into a swamp. He sighed. That's just lovely. Well, what's the swamp's mutation supposed to be? A monster? He was diving into a swamp to fight a monster? Then "The bowels of the beast you must free!" He'd have to kill it and cut out its guts? Not a very nice thought there. Ah well, best get on with it. He stood up, dusted himself off, slid the knife into his boot, and set off randomly whilst humming Bon Jovi's "Living on a Prayer."
After a couple of minutes of swatting mosquitoes and walking on, he came to what he thought was a rock wall covered in vines, but when he pulled the vines back, he saw a wall made of mirror reflecting his image. He rapped on it with his knuckles, but it barely did anything. Must be bullet proof or something. Hmm, well, if this is a wall, and he started walking from that direction where there must have been another wall, then that way might possibly be headed for the center of the jungle-room! He trudged on that way.
The ground beneath his black boots seemed to be getting more muddy the further he went. Up ahead, he noticed through the trees that the ground had an odd color to it. It was more of a light green than the lush green and dirt brown colors around him now. He walked a bit more and realized that ahead of him was the swamp, the top covered in green slime and brown leaves fallen from the tall cypress trees growing in its midst. Gnats and mosquitoes flew above it in a swirling mix. A ripple spread from the swishing tail of a crocodile as it disappeared below the muck. Sarthacus gulped. It had probably gone to alert the others that dinner had arrived.
How was he supposed to find a key- which was apparently in the stomach of some mutated creature- in a swamp with the crocs fighting over who gets what piece of him? He sighed once again, trying to think of another way of getting what he needed without actually diving in. He decided to test something out to see what would happen. Sarthacus grabbed a good, solid stick from the ground and threw it into the swamp at far as he could. It splashed about the middle. Alright, good; now he would watch. Nothing happened. Hmm alright, I guess that didn't-
A great splash of slime and water exploded as at least four crocs burst from it, a stick in one of their mouths. Sarthacus stumbled back a bit. Ok, he was definitely not diving in there without even magic and only a fixed blade for a weapon.
He continued to watch the crocodiles fight a couple of minutes more before he noticed something coming up behind them. It appeared to be another crocodile, but only it's snout was poking out of the water for Sarthacus to see. For a moment, its yellow eyes, like a pair of shiny marbles, seemed to glare up at him from where it lay in the swamp. They disappeared a second later, though, and again swam through the muck towards what was likely to be its prey.
When it got right behind the brawling creatures, dirty water splashed up in torrents, and the biggest crocodile Sarthacus had ever seen in his life emerged from the slime, its great maw gaping with fangs like daggers already dripping the blood of its helpless victims. The quarreling crocs didn't stand a chance against this monster. In but a moment, three of the four were dragged below to the depths, the fourth wounded and splashing away as best it could. It practically yelped in surprise as it too was dragged below the filmy surface a moment later.
Sarthacus just stared, unable to remove his eyes from the spot he last saw that monstrous beast. Was that the mutation? He shook his head in an attempt to clear it, but just made him sort of sick and dizzy. He wondered why it always seemed to work for the people in books.
He stood up, deciding he needed to get away to think of what to do with this prodigious predicament. He turned around and took half a step before a guttural growl emanated from behind. He twisted around to see what it came from. The monster croc's front legs and head were on land and its back legs and tail were in the water. Sarthacus very slowly turned all the way around. It gazed at him for a moment, its yellow teeth glinting in the light.
It moved a bit farther up on land and growled maliciously when Sarthacus attempted to back up a few steps. The monster croc's hind legs were now only in a bit of very shallow water, and before Sarthacus's own deep blue eyes, the croc stood up, towering over Sarthacus- his mouth hanging open as if on broken hinges- at least two feet above his head. Yup, this was the mutation.
It growled in a deep, throaty tone, as it's gaping maw opened, further revealing jagged spikes for teeth, and roared in a language that was nothing like Sarthacus had ever before heard. However, if he had to guess, he thought it may have been Egyptian. The monster paused, and spoke again, this time thumping its chest mid-sentence. Still, Sarthacus didn't know what he could possibly say, so said nothing. It cocked it's head and growled out something yet again. At this point, Sarthacus had completely formulated his plan. It was simple. It was desperate. It probably wouldn't work. He'd probably die. But at least it was a plan rather than standing there listening to a mutated Egyptian speaking crocodile grow angrier and angrier at his prolonged silence.
Sarthacus went down to one knee, his head bowed down in a worshiping type of stance. The beast growled in what Sarthacus thought might be an approving tone. Later, the crocodile would see he should have eaten that human when he had the chance because after a split second more, Sarthacus had moved with incredible speed, although it seemed to happen in slow motion for him.
He withdrew the knife from his boot, and, from his kneeling position, leaped at his foe, dagger held at the ready to stab as he fell upon it, and stab he did. With the strength he got from his leaping assault, the dagger sunk to its hilt. The horrible monster roared, stumbling backwards. Sarthacus didn't let go, but soon realized he should have because they were falling into the swamp. He gasped in a breath of air half a second before they hit the water, slime and mud raising into the air as they splashed into it. They quickly began to sink, but Sarthacus realized he couldn't swim away yet for he had to get that key.
He once again held on to the knife, but this time, he slid it down the belly of the beast. Red swirled about him and mixed with the muddy water. He didn't want to do what he was about to, but had to, as crocs were coming, and they were coming fast. Something from behind hit him hard in the back, as a shadow fell upon him from above, but he kept his mind focused on what he had to do. His hand slid into the belly of the beast once more and felt for something like a key. He almost gagged with what he was doing, but pushed on til, there, something smooth and shiny. His fingers closed around it not a second before the monster's body was grabbed by what Sarthacus saw to be only lots of teeth and dragged down into the deeper depths just like so many the mutation had taken for himself in the past.
Sarthacus didn't waste any more time because he was running out of breath. His legs kicked, and his arms thrust the water beneath him. He wouldn't get out of this unscathed, however. There were many more crocs who weren't fighting over the monster's remains and thought Sarthacus looked like a nice snack. He was swimming hard and fast, but he had sunk rather far whilst grasping the dagger in the beast, yet he saw the light above him and knew he was close, just as a jaw clenched his arm between its teeth. Sarthacus screamed out in the depths of the water, losing any oxygen he had left, but he didn't much care about that at the moment and instead was quite worried about his arm filled with agony. The dagger was still clutched in his other hand so he thrust it at the creature gnawing on his arm. It released it and swam off, Sarthacus doing the same.
He reached the top, sucking in the air, coughing out the water that had gotten into his lungs, and clawing his way to the shore. He crawled as far away from the swamp as possible as blood seeped from the deep bite wounds on his arm. After he caught his breath, went a bit further from the swamp, and placed the key, slimy and beautiful, in his pocket, he took his shirt off and tore it into strips to carefully bandage his wound with what he had.
Now, to get out of this bloody awful place. He stood once more and walked in the opposite direction of the swamp til he finally got once more to a vine covered mirror-wall. He pulled back the vines with his good arm, and wondered if he would have to walk all the way around the wall to find the keyhole, but a moment after pondering on that, a keyhole formed in the glass. Sarthacus inserted the key, and the door swung open.


Israel found himself in in a sort of dim hallway with a door before him. When he glanced behind him from the direction he had come, he saw that he could see through the glass mirror. He found that interesting and wondered if he had been watched at all as he fought with the wolverine. Well, no one seemed to be there now so he limped- having already ripped up some of his clothing to use as a bandage for his wound, although it wouldn't do much good for the infection that was surely spreading through his veins at that very moment-  through the door in front of him. It was even darker out here with none of the light from the room he'd been in escaping out. He could tell their was some dim light around the corner, though, so he headed in that direction. He passed another door that looked like the one he had come from, so looked to see if there were anymore. When he turned down the next hallway where the light was coming from, he saw two more, one on either side. So there were four in total, each having a number on its door.
He wondered if there were other people in each of those who had been kidnapped like he was. Just as he was deciding to check the rooms, door #1 opened ahead on his right. Israel ducked back on the side of the wall not knowing whether this be friend or foe, and listened carefully. There was a guy's voice and a girl's, both sounding a bit irritated. Israel listened closely. Wait, those voices sounded familiar. He eavesdropped a minute more before smiling and stepping out from behind the wall. Just outside of door #1 stood a thin girl of about 15 with brown hair and blue highlights, speaking to a boy with black hair that seemed to be about a year older. Although Israel knew the age difference was, shall we say, a bit more significant.
"Nicolette! Niall! Glad you're both alright! It occurred to me a few minutes ago that perhaps I was not the only one kidnapped; however, I didn't really expect to see you here, Niall, since the last I heard of you, you were going back to Dublin for a while."
"Israel!" spoke Nicolette, "You actually know this guy?"
"Yes, Niall Montblanc was in Australia last year, and stayed at E. A. for that period of time."
Niall mentioned something about him being in town for a couple of days and happened to follow someone here before the door on the left slammed open and Nyx Dawn fell out onto her knees with a coughing fit, her gold tipped hair falling about her face and covering the burn mark on her cheek. Israel helped her out the rest of the way and quickly shut the door from whence she came as the room was filled with smoke.
"Hmm," pondered Israel. "Four rooms and four of us, but Niall followed the person that kidnapped us here, right? So there must be someone in room #4. Not only that, but I suspect it's Sarthacus, and he might be in trouble. We'll figure out what's going on later, but first, let's see what's in that fourth room."
Israel limped off once again, not checking to see if the rest were following, but he didn't need to anyway because they all were. 
He turned the corner to where he knew room #4 was, but when he turned that corner, the door was already open. And leaning against the wall was a very thin man with long dark hair. His left arm was cradled in a makeshift sling, and he was soaking wet.
"Sarthacus!" yelled Nicolette. "Are you alright? What happened?"
"Suffice it to say," he muttered quietly after glancing up at the group of them, "I don't ever want to visit Skyril's homeland."

Friday, July 15, 2011

What Makes You Happy?

Someone I Watch on devientart asked everyone a question in her diary. This is how I responded :]

Hmmm, what gives me cheer?
Well, I'll tell you, My Friend,
The answer is actually quite clear,
But to find out, a little time you'll have to expend.

What makes me glad,
Is when my friends are full of joy,
When they laugh, I'm not even a little sad!
It's just so great when no one even annoys.

Also, when the color of a mulberry
Is splashed across an orange sky
And out flies a magic woodland fairy,
Just as a soft breeze appears with a sigh!

Or when I write something fun,
Like a birthday present for a loved one..
Like a story about a crazy expression!
Or a poetic answer to someone's question!

I love it when I get to feed a stray kitten,
Because I'm happy with many various little things,
Like if I bring laughter to someone through something I've written
Or when I go and see and join in at church as everyone sings

God has given so many blessings to me
All of my great friends and family for one,
And all of this precious world I see
Plus this little talent of writing is incredibly fun!

I tag everyone who has read this to also answer the question in their own personal way and post it on your blog!

Friday, July 8, 2011

Happy Birthday, Hellboy!!!!

Author's note
Here's a little miniature poem for you :]
Hope you like it!

Ah, that man from Australia,
His room, strewn paraphernalia,

Lots of names, this man owns,
That killer of a thousand drones.

Sometimes, I may just annoy,
But still, I get to call him Friend Hellboy

Did you know he's a grand inventor? "Duh!"
In a susurrus, he invented, "Epica!"

Everyone knows of his glories!
He'll be awesome-sauce way past his forty's!

He was the first from the South I met,
And one of the best, I'd certainly bet!

In all that he writes, he is amazing!
When he posts a piece, buildings start razing!

He's great and smart and clever!
My friendship with him, I'd never ever sever!

Ah, Hellboy, be good to him, I'm stressing
Because his friendship will always be a blessing!

Tuesday, July 5, 2011

Two-Week Absence?

I did only just learn
Kallista shan't return!
This tear-stricken news
Meant no more chasing by goos!

"Oh, woe!" says all
"There is naught to do but fall!"
"How can we survive?" says he
"Her absence for two weeks shall be!"

No more noogies
No more boogies
No more lovely dances
No more sideways glances

This kingdom will be much less merry
And sour will become all the dairy
Without it's queen the land near' slumbers
Depleted are it's once vast numbers

All to hear of those who remain
Are tears repeatedly spilt in vain
Thunder clashes aimlessly
And boys sob shamelessly

But then a light does appear
Glowing brighter and becoming clear
There in violet stands an elegant lass
More beautiful is she than stained glass

All look up with joy and awe
At her return, they yell "Hurrah!"
Kallista's head tips just a fraction
Curious to why their great reaction

"For the next two weeks I'll be here less,
But I couldn't be gone for good, I do confess"
She strikes a pose, ever gallant!
Then hit by lightening... she has that talent...

She looks upon me with a mischievous grin
"You may want to stop typing of my chagrin"
Her hand holds a bucket of slime
To her I say, "Why would I stop this rhyme?"

Well, I'm sure you all know what happened next
And slimy now, I must go, slightly perplexed.