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Rated: 13+ · Chapter · Fantasy · #1585477
It's about an orphan who can talk to animals and his story.
Chapter 1: Discovery


• • •


The farm was silent as death.
No horses bayed in the stables. No cows munched in the fields. No owls flew restlessly into the night.
All was silent.

• • •

Ren shifted quietly in the blackness. Despite years of playing here, he thought the barn seemed tense. He thought it was the work of the dark night and the luminous moon that seemed to turn the abandoned barn into a wolverine’s cavern. But it was something more.
The barn seemed to give off a low aura around it, giving it an extra feel of ancientness. The slight smell of iron wafted in and stung his nostrils. A shiver went up his spine shaking his body lightly.
Although barns look to be one big room, there are actually several rooms on different floors. Each room seemed to have its own purpose to which Ren was ignorant, though he felt them important. The room he currently was in is one of his favorites. It had nails ground through the decaying wood that was used to hold up different tools. The only tools left were a pitchfork, a wedge-looking thing, and a sickle.
The sickle was his prized possession. It was there when he robbed the citizens. It was there when he cried in the middle of the night, cold and alone. It was there while he daydreamed about the one day he would kill the terrible bandits that pillaged the land. It was there when he dreamed of being a hero.

• • •

The wood handles fit comfortably into his hands. The cold rings kept him from drifting into peaceful bliss. The rusty blade was honed sharp for killing wolfs and other pillaging creatures. The wood was warped from years of intense heat and time. It was his only companion.
He sliced at a nearby haystack to test it out. The hay was thinly and clean cut through, as if it was always so. A raccoon’s skeleton lie on the ground in a disgruntled heap. Ren kicked it aside carelessly and started pacing.
An unsettling racket was heard in the high beams of the barn. A dark brown owl swooped down and landed gracefully on one of the pegs holding the tools. With the sudden swiftness in which he came, the owl leaped and swooped down to catch a foolish rat who had wandered into the barn.
Once the owl had returned to the makeshift perch, he sighed.
“Hello Mr. Rufus,” joked Ren
“You know I don’t appreciate that,” the owl began, “being of the high status I am.”
“You are just a regular owl, except that you know me of course.” He said that with a flourish. “What did you find by the way?”
“I hope you know that I’m not your servant,” the owl began in his usual manner. “I only do this from the undying love in my heart. Do you understand the courage it takes to go near those pathetic beasts who have forgotten the sacred song? They don’t deserve the spoils of it anyway.”
Well, he hasn’t changed in the last few seconds, Ren thought. “I could have easily been one of those ‘pathetic beasts’, you know.” He paused to ponder, “It’s only pure luck I’m different.”
“Don’t you dare connect yourself to those barbarians,” the owl spat.
“I cannot even go to school with them. If I only had nice li’l rich mums and dads with their fancy books and teapots, they could pay for me,” his sentence he was dripping with sarcasm. “Jeez, I could beat those fat bastards to a pulp.”
“Yeah, but they could shoot you with their lead comets before you would have a chance to say ‘fat’. Let alone ‘bastards’”
“Good point. Anyway, what did you find?” Ren inquired.
Mr. Rufus shuffled in his perch. “If you give me the jam you found at the Robinsons’ House last week, I’ll tell you.” Ren knowingly handed it over.
The owl leaned down to taste it when Ren snatched it away. “Information first,” he stated harshly.
“Fine. The back window is open with hard wood floors underneath. Also, there is an alternate entrance on the South end of the house with carpet underneath, but with a locked door. There is a light sleeping dog on the other end by the other door that goes by the owner’s room. It’s the hardest route. The jewelry box is in the office and the office and kitchen is by the owner’s room.” The owl had scouted it out all that day.
Ren slid the jar of jam towards Mr. Rufus and the owl muttered his thanks

. • • •

Wind whistled through the trees as Ren set forth upon the dark path. He knew it was better before a robbery to cleanse his mind, but he let it wander. He let it wander to the days of tragedy and pain, of hunger and loneliness, of fresh and new. When his parents abandoned him, he was ten.

. • •

It had been a harsh winter on the farm and everyone felt the repercussions. Food stocks were low and tensions were high. There was constant bickering among the parents, brothers, and sisters, except Ren. He sat in the corner and watched them play, fight , eat, think, sleep, and talk. He had no friends in his brothers and sisters, so he had grown up lonely.
During that winter, something wonderful and terrible happened.
Everyone was looking at the dark brown fields and sharing the last piece of bread. Some of the little ones were crying while the older ones were reassuring them that everything was going to be alright. Ren remembered thinking of glorious fields with huge corn and wheat. He remembered thinking that he could cure everyone’s sadness if he made this.
He remembered thinking that he could be a hero and that everyone would like him.
When this thought struck his mind, everything went beyond his control. It was like he was being controlled and he was just along for the ride. Everything unseeable was made seen by a white light in front of him. He saw everyone and everything around him. The trees, the worms and the rabbits were as clear as day and he could see their painfulness and hunger. All he saw was everyone’s hunger, and he could fix it.
The large white light grew into something enormous. The last thing he saw before he blacked out was the looks of terror from his siblings and the familiar green of corn in harvest.

. • •

The wood creaked slightly when Ren stepped down, making the dog stir in its sleep. He shuffled quietly past several doorways until he came to a room. He assumed it was an office because of the papers, computers, and manila folders that, he saw, were strewn about the room in a disorderly fashion. When he walked into the room, something caught his eye. What he saw made his flesh sear near his chest.
On several of the documents, there was a symbol that sent a chill through his bones, but was oddly soothing at the same time. Ren reached into his t-shirt and pulled out his necklace. Sitting on the chain was a six-pointed star with a strange rune carved into its center. It felt thin and delicate, but its aura emanated a strong sense of will and strength. He laid them down side by side and immediately recognized the resemblance. The only reason he hadn’t noticed faster was because the star looked different in only two dimensions.
He looked wildly around the room, all the while remembering about the day on the beach with its blanket of infinite warmness and light. He threw the papers in the air in frustration. ‘Why can’t I read?’ he thought. He pounded his fists into the desk sitting in the room in frustration. Cracks started to appear on the strong oak desk. He kicked the wall, shaking the house. Then he stopped suddenly.
With his acute ears, he heard cussing and a shotgun being cocked as a man was searching through his house. He grabbed a paper, with the symbol on it, quickly and put it in the satchel hanging on his back. Moving swiftly, he sprung onto the wall and jumped off, catching onto the heavy fan up top. Using his arms with great skill and strength, he lifted himself onto the ceiling fan.
Just when he was lying safely on the fan, the door opened violently slamming into the wall. Plaster and drywall fell as a huge hole emerged from the wreckage.
“What the hell was that?” a voice yelled from beyond the open door.
Nobody answered him.
The man came in very cautiously. He was big and burly with lots of hair and a curly beard. He was wearing a blue sleeveless shirt, jeans, and smelled like soup.
“Wher’ the hell are you, you tiny little bastards? I know you guys landed your spaceship and are tryin’ to eat me brains. Well, I say, the hell with that ya green basards.” yelled the hairy beast of a man.
Ren had to stifle a giggle, to keep the guy from realizing he wasn’t alone. The man left for a moment to assess the damage, but quickly realized that the damage was only in the office. He came back in and looked around, but had no one to shoot. So, he shot the wall in frustration.
“Those damn bastards left. Just stole some papers and left. Man (He isn’t speaking to anyone in particular) if I get you guys, I’ll strangle you, you… jerks.” He shot the wall a few more times, and then sat down. “God, I need a beer.” He then laid down on the floor and stared directly into Ren’s dark green eyes.
“Think you’re gonna get me ya little-“he began. Then a loud explosion followed his dialogue that originated from the shotgun. Shrapnel flew everywhere, gouging into Ren’s skin causing blood to fly everywhere on the ceiling. He started to lose consciousness, but he knew that that would be fatal.
With surprising agility (it was surprising because he was bleeding fatally), Ren leaped from the fan aiming towards the window. Glass shattered everywhere, and his head hit the frame of the window. ‘STAY AWAKE!’ he screamed to himself in his mind. Behind him, he heard more ‘green bastard’ crap and the sound of another shot being fired.
He got up slowly and limped away in no general direction. Two more shotgun shells erupted behind him and when he looked back, a piece of shrapnel lodged through his eye into his skull. Once he hit the trees behind the house, he sprinted. He sprinted until his chest throbbed with pain.
He ended up in a forest with no idea where he was and where he was going. Crickets chirped around him in synchronous chorus. Trees rustled with a nightly breeze and some bugs were crawling on the ground. The moon sat nicely on the horizon with a sense of mysticism. An owl flew through the clearing.
Then, before he could do anything, he heard the shuffling of feet, the swing of an object, and then only saw blackness.

. • • •

Ren awoke to the run of water and the sting of wounds. He smelled metal in the air and felt water in the air. He decided to quickly open his eyes to assess the situation. He opened his eyes to a startling sight. There was a gigantic pair of black eyes staring back at him. They had an underlying wisdom that only happens with age and were hypnotic with their pure untamed, inky blackness. Thankfully, the eyes showed no sign of malice, only kindness.
He sat up on the rock behind him. At first he didn’t remember his wounds, but was reminded by a sharp pain in his left eye. He then realized that his sight was back. ‘How do you get shot in the head and survive?’ he thought.
“You’re awful lucky that you’re endowed. You definitely wouldn’t have survived if you weren’t. I wish you were a conjurer, not a warrior. Helpful in the long run, but terribly useful when you’re busting your balls in the blazing hot desert.” said the ominous pair of eyes.
“What the hell are you?” said Ren.
“Oh, sorry, Is this better?” The strange pair of eyes morphed into a full body. She was beautiful. Her hair was bleach blond with black stripes, and her nose was as soft as a baby’s nose. She was wearing a book bag with pins attached to the straps with random types. There were gay pride ones and metal band ones, ‘fight extinction’ ones and ‘got milk?’ ones. She was skinny with jeans and a bikini top.
“I don’t usually show myself, since I am quite a strange sight, aren’t I?” Ren felt a calming sensation as though he was at the barn and he was eating a sandwich, his favorite.
“You know a drunk teenager could figure out you are working a spell on me,” said Ren with a mysterious calmness. “Hell, I could feel the magic working off of you.”
“I guess you want to know who saved you right,” said the mysterious lady who morphed into an old lady. “Well I’ll tell you. The name’s Terra. Got it off of Teen Titans, do you like it?”
“I couldn’t give a shit about your name considering that you beat me over the head with a shovel.” Ren had noticed a bloody shovel sitting in the corner. “I just want to get the hell away from you.”
“Jeez,” she changed into a goth girl with a mohawk, “lighten up a little bit. It’s not every day you meet another endowed.”
“I don’t care. I’m leaving,” Ren got up to leave.
Terra got up to stop him, not understanding, “Wait, don’t you want to learn magic? Destroy people with a single swipe of your blade? Mow down entire armies with a dagger? That doesn’t sound appealing?”
“No. Not in the least,” flashbacks of the looks on his siblings’ faces flashed through his mind. “I wouldn’t mind directions ou-.“ He never finished his sentence, because he was mauled furiously from behind with claws.
The enchanter had changed into a saber-tooth cat, and had attacked him from behind as he was leaving. “NO ONE ESCAPES ME!” Her voice was rattling the rocks threatening to cave in. “ESPECIALLY,” saliva was flying everywhere, “ESPECIALLY, A FREAK LIKE YOU! Not even I can survive a gunshot wound.” She took a bite out of Ren’s side.
Ren screamed in pain and worked furiously to beat the giant cat off, but it was useless. “I SPEND YEARS ALONE IN A STUPID CAVE, AND MY FIRST PREY ESCAPES ME!” She pounds Ren in the chest with her claws, “’NO!’ I SAY, ‘NO!’” That scream made rocks crash down around them and break apart.
Ren tried to roll the cat off, but the gigantic weight was too strong to budge his body. He rip, tore, and bit at the claw, but it was useless. He screamed just in case there was anyone conveniently outside the cave with a shotgun and a furious rage to kill everything. Fortunately, there was.
Ren attacked at the cat’s eyes in a sudden fear of death that sat like a lead weight upon his heart. He swiped and kicked and struggled. He wiggled, writhed, pushed, and pulled with all of his strength. He didn’t see any choice; he would have to something he would regret.
The enchanter was still distracted with her rant and Ren was distracted with trying to get away from the huge, terrifying saber-tooth tiger that was on his chest attention that they didn’t notice the lone figure in the entrance in cave. They didn’t notice, that is, until a shot rang out and a pool of red surrounded Ren and a limp body of a saber-tooth tiger pounded him into the ground.
He craned his head to see the figure in the entrance of the cave. He tried to move the body off of him but it was too heavy and he was too fatigued.
“You aren’t like that crazy bitch, are you?” said the burly man. “Sorry for shooting you. I thought she was back, although she always morphs into an alien, because they scare me to death. You definitely looked like the good guys in that situation. Come with me and tell me why you were in my house. Just for the record, you don’t have a choice.” He started walking.
“Holy shit,” was all Ren could say about what just happened.

• •

Ren leaped over a rock with childish enthusiasm. It made him feel like a ninja.”Hookah!” he yelled with an un-contained excitement
He received a sideways glance from his calmer travelling companion. “Do you mind? How can you be so calm when a freaking saber-toothed tiger just attacked you?”
“It happens. I had to wrestle an old lady in a bathtub until she was unconscious last week. My owl gave me bad intelligence.” Ren said casually.
The man did a double take. “Did you just say an owl gave you bad intelligence? And I could wrestle alligators for a living and still be freaked out that a… whatever that was… attacked me? Damn you were lucky.” The man kept shaking his head in disbelief.
They arrived in the clearing to the chunky man’s house. The fresh cut lawn seemed to glisten with newness. The oak trees surrounding the house seemed to be protecting the house. The dog barked and came to lick its master and faced the stranger. A dazzling aura surrounded the teen that seemed to suspend time.
“Flack nash nushnick?” What’s your name? Ren questioned.
The dog didn’t answer, but just stared in disbelief at this newcomer. He gave an unsure sniff, and recognized the scent almost immediately. He had just been studying a scrap of fabric with the same scent earlier in the morning. The dog seemed to unwittingly trust the stranger and gave him the lick of acceptance.
The man, whose name Ren had found out was Dom, started towards the house without a question. He had just begun to accept the weirdness of Ren. “Come along. Stop pretending to talk to my dog. Aren’t you too old to be acting so weird? How old are you anyway?” Dom asked without looking at him and he opened the door, holding it open for him.

Ren just stared at him in disbelief. His eyes moved from the door to Dom over and over again. Dom motioned for Ren to come in, but Ren couldn’t believe it. “What’s the problem?” Dom inquired. Ren didn’t answer but instead walked inside. He kept looking over his shoulders to make sure the stranger wasn’t going to do anything to harm him. His raw instincts made him crouch in a defensive position, waiting for an attack.
Then, Ren stood up straight with his eyes resting on the ground. “I don’t know,” Ren simply replied, “No one ever told me. They just said that age doesn’t matter when I would soon die.”
Dom didn’t understand what he was talking about until he remembered his previous question, How old are you anyway. He looked into Ren’s eyes, but he was just met with a cold, emotionless, and unforgiving wall. The eyes that stared back at him scared him, because of their foreignness. They looked as solid rocks, but with a depth that beyond even his years.
© Copyright 2009 Beelzebub (balthasarafrit at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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