Creative fun in
the palm of your hand.
Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1846228
Printer Friendly Page Tell A Friend
No ratings.
Rated: 13+ · Novel · Dark · #1846228
Story i have decided to write after thinking about different plot lines.
Lying on my back facing the twinkling starts, the blood dripping down my cheek. Not sure exactly if im going to die or if ill be okay. But the adrenaline from my wounds is still coursing fresh through my veins. Cant entirely tell the amount of time since i fell. Minutes? Hours? I feel a boot being pressed against my stomach grinding up my bones even more.
"Hey Aiden i think this one is still alive!" I hear coming from above the boot. His voice is demanding but has a accent of some kind. Though none of the languages i know of have this kind of tone. Someone walks up beside the boot. I can only see this mans pants and shoes, which both seemed very expensive. Specially tailored possibly? Then the Rich Man says to Boot Guy with a heavy Australian accent. Although it seems forced as though hes faking the voice.
"He seems alive. Probably for not much longer though. Should we take this one back to Him?"
Boot Guy sighs and replies "Yeah. He could be of some use to us. Though if not your taking the heat"
Rich Man laughs and says "I usually do". They both bend down and lifts me up one carrying my legs and the other with his arms looped through my armpits. Lugging me like a corpse. We then start shuffling through the forest, my carriers occasionally grunting from my weight. For what seems like hours we get to an old abandoned parking lot on the far east side of the wood. They hurl my body into the back of a truck, hitting my head on the side i black out. When i wake im looking at a plain white ceiling with a basic dangling light fixture. I sit up and look around. Same as the ceiling the room itself is white and plain. The only furniture is the bed im sitting on. The door comes open and a tall burly man comes through the front door. I immediately recognize his accent as Rich Guy from earlier. He is Wearing a two piece suit with a pocket watch in his breast pocket. The chain going down to his belt.
"Ah your awake. Good. He wants to see you now so get dressed. Shower is down the hall to the right" He throws a bundle of clothes at me, which i catch with surprisingly quick reflexes. He smirks and leaves the room. Putting on the shirt and jeans i notice that they actually fit me and my style. White tear shit with a pair of white skinny jeans. I furrow my brow and dismiss my paranoia. I leave the room into the hall. A surprising decorated and colorful corridor. I smirk a little and walk left down to the bathroom where i wash my hair. I look under the sink and find a flat iron. Which again confuses me. Since the only person ive seen is bald. i straiten my hair, which when straight goes down to my collarbone in front and a little above my shoulder blades in front. My bangs cut just above my eyes.. I stare in the mirror. i adjust my snake bites and nose piercing. When im done doing my hair and cleaning my piercings the same man comes in.
"If your done lets get this over with. Follow me please" he gives me friendly smile and walks out the door. I follow him out and down the hall. Then up two flights of stairs. This place must be a mansion or estate for this impressive of decor and the sheer size of the building itself. At the top floor we go all the down the hall and approach a grand door. He opens it easily even though it must have weighed at least half a ton. I follow him in and the room about knocks me on my knees. The halls and rooms are lavishly decorated. On the left side of the large room there is a row of computers but none are manned. the room itself looks run down. Paint peeling off the walls, the chandelier teetering dangerously. In the center of the room sits a young man who looks barely out of college, yet he radiates power. He has closely cut blonde hair. With a regular T-shirt and blue jeans. With a large scar running down his left cheek.
"Ah so this is the mysterious young man from last night. Please, sit. My name is Lyca" The man at the desk smiles and motions to the chair in front of the desk. I sit down and look at Lyca directly in the eyes.
"Now may i ask your name?" Lyca asks.
"Gage." i reply
Lyca sighs "I mean your real name young man. I have no time for games" He shoots me a look that rattles me to my bones.
"My real name? What are you talking about? My name is gage" i say aghast. Lyca shoots Rich Guy a glare
"You didn't activate him? He was dead wasn't he Aiden?"
Aiden shifts uncomfortably "No sir... But that's the surprising thing sir. He wasnt dead. he survived a Astral!" Lyca's eyes go wide with suprise.
"He did?" He looks back at me "Well Gage. You have no become something of interest. But first let me explain. Since you are most likely just chock full of questions. First off, my name is Lyca. I was born at the end of the Egyptian empire. Though I myself am not Egyptian. I was born on a tiny little island off the coast of what is now Italy."
"There is now way you are that old!" I say in surprise
"Oh but it is true. Now please do not interrupt till i am done talking. It is extremely rude. Now as i was saying. I grew up a normal life. Well that era's own sense of normal. I worked the field. I eventually got married at the age of 17. But my wife was murdered." Lyca's eyes go dark with sadness. "But she was killed quite... Horrifically, no best or man could have done this. So i traveled the world in search of the truth. Until I found the Mystics. These beings are immortals. Known as gods to humans. They peered into my heart and saw my goal of revenge. They gave me aid by turning me immortal. And giving me control of" He flicks his hand and a large spear rises from the ground. I sit awestruck as it rises from the floor. "Magic." He smiles and looks at me "Magic is quite different from a regular humans perspective. But that's a story for another day. Now let me inform you of my organizations enemy. The Astrals. My company known to humans as Striker Industries hunts these beings to keep the world safe. Striker has been around since the roman empire. We have amassed a great fortune. We have also aided in the construction and fall of countries. Anyway that doesn't matter. Back on topic, Astrals are beings from a separate plane than this one. Humans call them spirits, or demons. They are living beings that are bent on this worlds destruction. I do not know why they want this world. But i intend to find out. Astrals use magic just like some humans can. But their magic is different then ours. It has different laws and limits. But one thing is for certain, they will not stop till humans are completely wiped out.
© Copyright 2012 otherworlder (isoace at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Log in to Leave Feedback
Not a Member?
Signup right now, for free!
All accounts include:
*Bullet* FREE Email @Writing.Com!
*Bullet* FREE Portfolio Services!
Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1846228