Chapter one
Christan Chaoso crawled through the
ventilation system on his belly, clutching firmly a bizarre looking tennis ball
in his tightly clenched fist. The tennis ball weighed about the weight of one
and a half cans of baked beans and had a glowing red light on top. Christan
swung off his worn battered backpack and rummaged inside for the electric
screwdriver he had received for his tenth birthday three years ago. In a matter of moments he had located the
screwdriver and opened up the ventilation shaft.
Using
carefully practised agility he dropped to the floor, landing soundlessly
and deftly in an elegant pose. He was in Mr Drogstine’s office. Mr Drogstine
was the cruel supervisor of Christans orphanage which was the remarkably
ancient London Town Orphanage .
Mr Drogstine was outrageously severe,
heartless, has no sense of humour and is shockingly nauseating to look at. Just
the other day Dumb Dog Drogstine as the kids always used to call him, had
strapped Christan to his bed for a whole
day, just for talking with the wrong tone in his voice!
Christan plucked the tennis ball from his
trouser pocket and pushed the peculiar glowing light on top, suddenly it began
to flash wildly and gradually started to heat up until it was lightly
blistering his fingertips.
Christan
Chaoso’s eyes widened with excitement mixed with pride mingled with a single
hint of hesitation. Though he did not hesitate in the slightest as he as he
exploded into action. Firstly he leapt over the desk and placed the tennis ball
in the top right drawer of the desk.
Before
Christan had a chance to react he heard
Mr Drogstine coming down the hall . Mr Drogstine rattled the doorknob, “Who’s in there I can
hear you !” he shouted as he kicked the door open. Instinctively Christan flipped over the table and hid under the
desk.
Mr
Drogstine scanned the room like a hawk “ I know your in here some were whoever
you are and when I find you, I don’t care what the law says your getting the
cane !” As he said this he checked in his cupboard , he was extremely used to
the orphans hiding there. At that moment he took his chance and crawled
stealthily out of the office.
When
he was out of the office his good friend Bobster was waiting for him around the
corner “well did you place the bomb?” he muttered curiously glancing round the
corner “you bet I did” replied Christen happily.
Two
seconds later there was a tremendous commotion as a bewildered and confused Mr
Drogstine burst through the door with
his shoe on fire. He was yelling in a high pitched voice that as far as the
orphans could make out was something like “ oh my gosh my desk’s on fire .” and
then a lot of ‘colourful’ language that would be highly rude to repeat between
these covers.
Bobster ran his fingers through his shiny
blond hair as he always did whenever he was
confused “why didn’t we hear the explosion Blood Bomb?” Blood Bomb was
Christans street name which had been given to him because of distinguishing
blood crimson tresses that he had been born with those thirteen years ago, and
also because of his extraordinary flair for making lethal explosives.
Christan winked at him and said “ well you
see, I designed it to heat up until it burns and it burns and incinerates
itself so until its nothing but a heap of black
ashes so it leaves no evidence at all!”
Christan puffed his chest out in pride as
Bobster gave him a congratulatory pat on the back that knocked the wind out of
Christan. Christan smiled weakly spluttered:sometimes Bobster didn’t know his
own strength!
Christan turned and watched for another few
moments in amusement as Mr Drogstine accidently threw his flaming footwear at a
unwary twelve year old. Bobster winced in sympathy as the infernal shoe
connected in firey impact with the poor boys cranium.
Christan
felt slightly guilty and responsible as he watchced the boy drop to the
floor squirming in agony, but Christan was cold blooded like a shark after a
injured fish: no symphathy, no
mercy and no feeling.
Mr Drogstine had thankfully calmed down and
was now rampaging around the orphanage and randomly accusing students and
occasionally asking were Mr Chaoso was. Christan ( as you may have already
noticed ) had a perfected talent at making explosives, guns and missiles of all
shape and sizes, so whenever something exploded around the area whether it was
grenade or a faulty firework Christan was always suspected. Though Christan did
not really mind this because he was virtually responsible for every explosion
in London Town Orphanage anyway.
“Maybe we should hide.” suggested Bobster
seeing how angry Mr Drogstine was. “ Yes but were, you know there’s no were old
Drog wont look” replied Christan in
getting more and more scared by the second but suddenly his eyes widened
in enlightenment “ we could hide in Mr
Drogstines room , he’ll never think to look there.” “ Brilliant” said Bobster
as he gave Christan an extremely hard pat on the back.
A few moments later Christan once again
found himself crawling through the ventilation system with Bobster following
trustingly behind him . Once again Chiristan reached for his screwdriver and in
less then a surprising one minute they were sat down on Mr Drogstine’s king
sized bed watching the news on his plasma TV, while looking at his outrageously
expensive collection diamond set rings
. Christan rolled his eyes in
disappointment “ I guess he bought all this with the other half our food
budget.”
There was
a special report on the news about a new memorial building . The news
reporter started talking, “ Today I witness hear the completed Domestic Heroes
Memorial Building containing in one room the names of all the firemen,
policemen and even ambulance drivers and staff that have lost their lives
making a different in England . Each name is written on a minuscule gold badge
that will be on display from next Monday this week goodnight London on O Story
News.”
After hour of laying low and being
inconspicuous they decided to head back to the dormitory were a lumpy but
reasonably comfortable bed would be waiting for them to swallow them up in its
gaping mouth of yellowing old bedsheets and duvets. When they got back the
dormitory was empty as it usually was on Saturdays because everyone
was either out on the town or the
younger ones might be getting up to a little weekend mischief as they usually
known for doing.
Chapter two
Christan crawled on to his bed and removed
from under his yellowing pillow a greasy oil cloth rapped around some tools and
equipment. “What are you making Blood Bomb?” asked Bobster suspiciously eying
the oil cloth curiously as if trying to see through it with x-ray vision.
“ You’ll see when its finished ok and till
then don’t ask about it again” said Christan as he carried on working on his
little project “ but in the mean time could pass me a chocolate bar, making
explosives is hungry work.”
Bobster jumped of the bed and removed a loose tile, under the loose
tile there was a small box he lifted the box out and took from it a single mini chocolate bar called a Morselo
and a slightly bigger chocolate bar called a Chocalicios.
He threw the Morselo over to Christan and
scoffed down the Chocalicios as fast as lightning by himself. In the orphanage
chocolate was a rare treat for ordinary residents, but of course Christan and
Bobster were not ordinary residents.
Bobster and Christan were master thieves and could easily pinch a few
chocolate bars from corner shops here and there, though every now and then on a
weekend when their stash of chocolates was wearing thin Christan would use a
miniature explosive to puncture the tire of a Morselo delivery van, and while
the driver was fixing the tower Christan and Bobster would sneak away with half
the chocs.
After a while people started pouring back
into the sleeping quarters and Christan and Bobster decided to call it a night,
and decided to go to sleep after a long full day of ‘wholesome’ mischief. And
so he Christan let himself be lulled to sleep by the snores and grunts of his
many roommates .
The
next morning was Sunday and Christan decided to go for a walk, the usual
rule was that you had too go in groups of three so you wouldn’t get mugged but
Christan never left the building without at least five of his mini toxic smoke
grenades which he named Nanosmokers.
“Hey Bobster” shouted Christan across the
room as he pulled on his tattered worn out coat, “I’m going out to see that new
Domestic Heroes Memorial Building that news reporter was yapping on about.”
Christan grabbed a bottle of stolen Satista Cherry drink heartily lifted it to his lips and drunk
deeply savouring every drop.
Christan jogged down the stairs carefully
double checking that he had some Nanosmokers
in his pocket, and also his just
finished project which he had been working on for a week. He ran out the door
into the cold bitter winter air, and suddenly remembered that they were low on
chocolates so he decided to walk over to the local corner shop and stealthily
and silently detonated a Nanosmoker and then he
got away swiftly with as many
fistfuls of Morselos he could shove in his unfortunately small trouser pockets.
He carried out the plan professionally and smoothly like a well trained hired
jewel thief, and walked away with seven rich nougat mouth watering Morselos
bulging in his teeming chock-full trouser pockets.
Christan was walking past the train station
when a mysterious muscle-bound masked caught him by the collar scruff and
dragged him into the a putrid smelly alleyway, Christan had been mugged many
times and had learnt to cooperate until you you got a chance to hit him with a Nanosmoker and run for your life.
The strange man seemed to have read his
mind judging from what he said, “Don’t even think of bombing me I know what
your capable of and I want to warn you
that it won’t work and I mean that in the most literal term possible. I will go
straight to the point, I want you to blow up the Domestic Heroes Memorial
Building. If not you can kiss your little orphanage goodbye.” Christan looked
utterly confused and horror-struck, and for the first time in his life he felt
vulnerable and weak his cold blooded shark instincts had turned into that of a
warm hearted scared defenceless puppy. Though he spoke commandingly and
self-assuredly as if he had never been braver in his life, “It seems like I
don’t really have a choice but I am afraid that if you can’t catch me you can’t
make me do anything.” And with that he reached in to his pocket and tossed a
Nanosmoker at the black boots of his strange captor. To Christan horror it
didn’t detonate. His captor rolled up his sleeve and tapped his watch
impatiently “I have a bomb neutraliser somewhere in my pocket” He stated
quickly “now from five o’clock to six o’clock on Monday the building will be
empty blow it up then, okay!” Christan nodded his head sadly the mysterious man
ran up the wall like a ninja and disappeared from sight.
Chapter three
As Christan silently and slowly walked home
he silently resented this new feeling of vulnerability. Why is it that him a
small thirteen year old should be asked to carry out such a dangerous task, it
was all to confusing and scary the best thing would be just to get on with it
and hope for the best.
Christan woke up early on Sunday he had a
full day of work ahead of him, with great difficulty he made two halves of a big Iron ball, which he
filled with liquid Chaoranium which was a highly explosive chemical made by
Christan himself and named after his last name Chaoso. Christan welded the two
half spheres together and got to work on the explosive. First he got a bar of
pure Chaoranium and put it in one of those incinerator bombs that he had used
on Mr Drogstine. He attached a special
timer to it and duck taped it to the metal orb.
Christan collapsed on his bed exhaustedly
slowly chewing a Morselo. Suddenly he heard footsteps he quickly rolled the
bomb under his bed. Bobster walked into the room and looked at Christans
miserable face curiously. “Something wrong Blood Bomb.” Asked Bobster
curiously. “No man everything’s cool.” lied
Christan despondently. He picked up his tattered blue bag and made for
the door taking one last look at the orphanage just incase he never made it
back.
Christan darted down the street, weighed
down by the heavy explosive in his big blue bag tightly strapped this back like
a saddle. When he got to the building he had disgracefully blackmailed into
destroying, he was to accelerated by adrenaline to notice the buildings urban
beauty. The brand new solid oak doors was locked with a simple padlock and
chain, Christan looked around cautiously and slipped two Nanosmokers into the
padlock key hole which melted the inside components allowing Christan easily
remove the lock. His heart was now racing he sprinted inside the length of the
red and gold hallways until he came to the lavatory. He didn’t even bother to
break the lock instead he kicked the door and it swung open. Cautiously he set
down the bomb and set the timer to ten minutes more than enough time for him to
get to a safe distance and not enough time for it to be discovered.
Stealthily, Christan fled the building as
fast as he had come in. Christan walked back towards the orphanage warm but
bitter tears trickling down like glistening acidic stars against his smooth
black skin. His silvery grey eyes were bloodshot and red with brackish tears.
He was three streets away from the condemned building when he heard he heard a
colossal explosion.
He had actualy done it but at least he had
done it for a good reason. The tears started to sting like fire droplets. If
someone had got killed in the blast or hurt by the debris he would never be
able forgive himself, because his cold blooded attitude had vanished along with
his innocents.
Christan tried to harden his mind like he
usually did but he just couldn’t. The shark in him was in a cage swimming about
helplessly and Christan was helpless to free it.
Christan should have been running but he
was rooted to the spot by his annoyingly deep thoughts. Eventually he got a
hold of himself and started to walk.
All of a sudden he felt a hand touch his
shoulder he quickly swung around and saw a man but this man had the same blood
scarlet hair as him and the same iron grey eyes as him. “maybe he’s my father.”
Thought Christan. “I know what you might
be thinking but I’m afraid we’re not related in fact I’m here on a completely
different matter than are similarity in features. I’m here to discuss your
special talents.” Explained the mysterious man dashing his last hope of finding
his parents “I own a special high school
called Creon High school and to escape the authorities and to ensure a
real future not like the one you are faced with at this very moment now.” The
man tilted his ear to the sound of the police sirens as if he was giving him a
hint.
“It doesn’t seem like I have a choice
really ok I’ll be a student at your school if you get those police off my
trail.” Snapped Christan his sorrow quickly turning to anger. “It isn’t that
simple” clarified the man calmly ignoring Christan’s wild emotions “you see
there is a small fee of fifteen thousand pounds, but don’t worry because of
your amazing talents you can be a new teacher and open up a whole new Creon
Guild called the Bombers Guild. Oh were are my manners, I cant expect you to
trust someone unnamed: my name Sir Creon Mallanor The Neutral, but just call me
Creon.” “Nice name.” muttered Christan bitterly “ok I agree” he said glancing
nervously over his shoulder “now please get me out of here.”
Creon took a whistle out of his blue
leather jacket pocket and blew it hard yet there was no sound. Suddenly a gigantic black dog the size of a horse charged
out of a alleyway and came to a halt in front of them.
The creature was magnificent and powerful
like the canine equivalent of a lion. “It’s a Caleon the loyalty and adaptation of a dog and the
strength and power of a lion.” Sighed Creon proudly. The Caleon shook its long
shiny fur and started to crack a stone in its double row of teeth and swallow
it in large chunks.” It eats anything and lives anywere” said Creon “we made it
a little to adaptive.”
Christan gaped in amazement as Creon leapt
on to the impressive and terrifying creature, “I can already tell this school
is going to be extremely imposing but won’t people notice a giant dog.” Creon
signalled for Christan to get on which he did struggling a little at first, “
yes but we have ordered the higher authorities to completely ignore any
hysterical reports of strange creatures and impossible happenings.” Christan
nodded understandingly and mounted the colossal canine. The dog took off at
maximum speed towards the abandoned construction site were a lustrous black jet
with a blood red crescent moon logo
which appeared to be the schools symbol was waiting for them to board it.
As they boarded Creon explained to Christan
about the jet, “The Black Phoenix jet is so fast it goes at the speed of sound and
has two afterburners” explained Creon his chest swelling with pride “it’s the
best Creon jet in are whole air fleet and we have over 300 mini jets you know
so we can fetch students like you from all over the world……” Creon went on and
on till they were flying over the
Atlantic Ocean.
“ Oh I forget to mention” said Creon
casually but the school is smack in the middle of the Bermuda Triangle
.”Christan over boiled with rage “ You mean I’m going to spend the next six
years of my life experimenting with dangerous army grade explosives in the
middle of the most unlucky area on earth and you never thought to tell me!”
yelled Christan angrily.
“Well I thought you would think a lot
better about it once you discovered your teachers pay : 1 million Credeons the
equivalent of one and a half million pounds.” Sighed Creon calmly. “The Island has its own currency and I get
that much cash?!” Gasped Christan in amazement. “Yes outside the school is a
city made up of the most powerful and most intelligent people in the world, you
have to be the best at your trade to live there. That’s were you will spend
your money and compared to the other students live like a king!” explained
Creon watching with amusement as
Christans eyes widened with excitement and glee. “were landing in about
approximately five minutes so please fasten your seatbelts.” said the crackling
voice of the pilot through the speaker in the wall.
Chapter Four
Christan looked out of the window to see
Creon High he gasped in amazement, it
was beautiful he saw six gigantic dome buildings all different colours and a
huge football stadium and a circular red turf running track. Creon leaned over
to him and looked out the of window whispered something strange but sincere
into his to him that make his neck hairs
stand on end: “This is Bercento island nothing you see down there is what it
seems and really it’s a whole new world, new food, new fruit, new animals, new
resources, new friends, new enemies and
especially…….new dangers!”
The mini jet landed on a landing pad marked
with the same scarlet crescent moon insignia Christan had seen on the Black
Phoenix. He had landed outside the black dome which he presumed was the Bombers
Guild building it was about six times the size of the the orphanage which was
still very big.
To think that him a thirteen year old will
have to keep this place under control, suddenly he noticed the other children
about the same age as him around him they were wearing spotless black
tracksuits with two gold and red stripes going down the arms and legs and the
familiar red crescent moon symbol.
“These are your students”
said Creon pointing at the children in that were staring at him “for the next
six years you will teach them about the art of bombing while also they
will be and you will be attending normal
classes like sport, maths, literacy and advanced Bercento science.”
Creon led Christan and the others through
the black glass doors of the dome. Christan noticed that the ground as far as he could see was
polished black granite and all of the students were leaning back on their heels
and skating across the floor as if they were gliding across it. “Ah Speedster
wheel shoes very clever trainers with wheels fitted into the heel to let them
glide across the smooth granite.” Said Creon happily. They strolled inside and
went into the first room which had a metal label saying lesson hall. Creon opened the door and
they all stepped into the hall which was colossal .
“There’s enough to sit sixty children and
since the whole guild is here there’s one hundred and twenty of you so most of
you will have to stand up.” Boomed Creon his voice echoinng through the hall.
Christan noticed that everything in the hall was red: red chairs, red desks,
red walls red ceiling red everything except the interactive whiteboard at the
front that was linked to a computer.
“Here you will learn everything you will
need to know about bombs ,explosives and detonators from young master Christan
here.” Boomed Creon loudly holding a microphone to his lips “ in the morning
Christan will teach a hour of bombing to sixty students then him and the class
will take a one hour break then Christan will teach another hours to the other
sixty children in the guild then all the students will go to their sub classes
or normal classes as some people call them your timetable will be given out
now.” he pressed a button on the huge desk in front of him and millions of
timetable papers fell from the ceilings. “ Christan your uniform is in your
room which you will be taken too by your roommate.” Bellowed Creon loudly.
A smiling black haired black girl stood in
front of Christan her green eyes shining
like glowing emeralds. “Hey my names Mersa
and this is your roommate.” Explained Mersa as a swarthy looking tanned
black haired boy stepped out from behind her. The boy introduced himself “hey
my names Batista” he said briefly and walked of gesturing to Christan to
follow. Christan silently followed his new silent friend Batista to to the
opaque glass and marble elevator, in which Batista punched in the numbers
eighteen to carrry them to there room.
“Theres thirty floors two big bedrooms on
each floor for two students per room.” Muttered Batista as if it hurt to talk.
They came out of the elevator to there room door, Batista produced a large gold
key from his pocket and opened the red
wood door. He stepped inside to discover a breath taking scarlet walled modern
and positively huge bedroom, with two beds, two desks and two elegant Banana
Nacintosh laptops.
Christan hadn’t really brought much luggage
just a fist full of Nanosmokers and his secret project still rapped in a oil
cloth. He had brought two of his deadly
Metaliator bombs which was a lethal small metal orb the size of a ping pong ball that would shoot out
spikes when it impacts on something hard. A Metaliator should never be put in
your pocket…….but Christan does anyway.
Christan took his secret
project and started working on it on the desk, as far as Batista could see it
was some sort of metal stick. Christan went over to the mini fridge and pulled
and pulled out a bottle of Satista Soda . “ So what did you do that made Creon
so impressed that he made you a Platinum.” Said Batista calmly. “Firstly mind
your own business” snapped Christan “and secondly what do you mean by a
Platinum?” Batista rolled his eyes sarcastically and explained, “In this school combat skills are top priority
the five people who teach it are called the Platinum then the people who teach
science, language and sport are the Gold then maths and history are silver.”
Christan nodded his head taking in the facts.
Christan had to admit this
school did seem pretty complicated but he would find a way to deal with it.
Well really he didn’t have a choice he either lived and learned or went back to
London were the police would be waiting for him.
Chapter five
A bell rang and Batista
declared it was time for lunch. “Were do we eat?” asked Christan nervously.
“Non other than The Rose food court. The
Rose is like a huge shopping center except half of Bercento’s food and supplies
are stored their so it’s extremely important………” explained Batista was
obviously very learned on the subject. “Ok you can explain the rest to me at
lunch.” Said Christan his hunger for
food far greater than his thirst for knowledge.
Christan and Batista went
in a line to the monorail station to get to the Rose. Around them were other
students from different guilds wearing different tracksuits, Batista had taught
him all the uniforms and the guilds they belong to.
Christan observed some
sturdy tough looking kids wearing green uniform with two gold stripes going
down the arms and legs. He quickly recognised them as the Commando Guild : trained to be strong
,fast and battle hardened. Batista had told him that the meanest most horrible
guild of all was the Bounty Hunter Guild.
The shining white monorail
bulled up by the station it looked like a train but Batista had asured him that
it was much faster. The monorail had a state of the art solar powered jet
propulsion system that is probably two times as fast as a bullet train.
Christan stared
hypnotically at the the spotless white floors and the black leather seats. “How
is it that Bercento can afford all this?” asked Christan . “only the best of
their trade and the richest people on earth can live in Bercento and one third
of their money goes to the Bercento council.” explained Batista “But to keep
Bercento secret they can only live here part time like a holiday.”
Batista and Christan
settled down on a seat and in less than a few minutes they were nearing the huge red building known as The
Rose. The Rose looked like a unbelievably huge cylinder with four rings of
glass rapped around it which were clearly large windows.
Christan and Batista got
off the Monorail and with the rest of the Bombers group in a line aproaching
the huge grandiose platinum gates of The Rose. Christan stared mesmorised at
the food court : it had all the restaurants he loved like MacDannies, Burger
Boss, Nandies and Lettuce Meat Lunchout . Sadly they also had to get
veggetables at the local Vegeto a franchise of the most successful veggie store
in the world to keep themselves healthy.
Christan stuffed his face
with deliciouse indulging food (and vegetables too). Christan was enjoying his
food so much he forgot the bill until the android waiter came over and put it
on his table. “thirty credeons!” gasped Christan he didn’t have that kind of
money, then he remembered how much his job paid one million credeons but he
didn’t have any on him. “pssst look in your pocket!” hissed Batista. Christan
reached into the pocket of his brand new tracksuit trousers and plucked from it
a platinum coloured credit card thing. He gave it to the android waiter who
swipped it on a device on his arm and
told him that his bill was paid.
The next day Christan woke up realising that today was his first
day of real lessons in Creon High and also his first day as a teacher in Creon
High. Christan had already prepared his lesson plans from the day before.
Christan waited for his
class to filter into the lesson hall and then begun to talk, “today you will
learn something that you will need throughout the time you will be here: how to
make Chaoranium.” Christan continued through class pouring chemicals into
beakers and writing complicated formulas on the interactive whiteboard.
He repeated the lesson for
the next class and then went to have a break with Batista he found Batista
forging explosive cases in a miniture forgery. “What are you doing?” asked
Christan. Batista quickly explained “My job, you see in this school you have to
make money for yourself even if it means growing vegetables on your windowsill
and selling it and you’re a Platinum and I’m the schools most succesfull metal
smith.” He said waving a clump of red ten credeon notes. “You must be good if
you already have a wad!” exclaimed Christan having never been close to that
much money in his life. “More like three wads and you would have about six or
seven if you cashed this weeks pay.” replied Batista.
The next day Christan and
Batista walked to the cash machine to cash their weeks pay money. When they got
there they saw the same girl that had introduced Christan to Batista, she was
wearing a red tracksuit with gold stripes going down the legs and arms which
Christan recognised as Super Spy Guild uniform. “That’s Mersa Ifeyinwa
practicaly the most powerful girl at school except Vesta Hauntess which is why
there having a showdown in Thornestess stadium in the combat ring. She’s on the
school council and in Creon High that is a really big thing.” Explained
Batista. As Christan noticed the two
long sharp knives that kept her hair in a bun he temporarily decided that
he would find out more about her before
he introduced himself to her.
Christan cashed some money and bought himself and
Batista front row seats to the Mersa vs Vesta showdown that evening. Christan
and Batista arrived at the Thornestess stadium just in time for the battle to
start. Batista told Christan about Vesta’s poisen nail varnish which stings so
much you could pass out if you got scratched by her.
Chapter six
Mersa carefully unsheathed
the two deadly blades from her dark brown curls and performed a deadly spinning
movement with them. Her long black curls tumbled down her back like a
waterfull. Vesta unsheathed her katana and swipped it lithely through the air.
The to female gladiators rushed at each other Vesta’s icy blue eyes narrowed to
livid slits. Mersa put forward the first attack she leapt gracefuly into the
air and landed a hefty kick into Vesta’s jaw. Vesta retaliated by cutting Mersa
with her katana. Mersa through the dagger at Vesta they caught Vesta’s sleeves
and pinned her to the arena wall Vesta’s reluctantly surrendered.
Mersa waved to her fans in
the crowd and blew them kisses her eyes crystal clear like glossy searing jade
moons . Mersa spun around and headed back into into the stadium tunnel
returning her hair to its usual tightly bundled up bun style.
Suddenly Christan appeared
on the jumbo vision screen. The commentator explained. “You sir have been
selected to see if you can fight Vesta Hauntess and win, do you except the
challenge.” It was a one choice question he couldn’t be made out as a coward on
jumbo vision.
Christan accepted the
challenge and before he new it was down in the battle arena. The android was
now offering him a range of weapons strapped to a wooden board, like machetes, katanas, two
handed swords, spears but the one that caught his attention was a lustrous
steel six pointed trident. Christan picked the trident and with it walked onto
the battle field suddenly everything became slow motion and his adrenaline
overload was triggered. Vesta charged at him with her katana in slow motion he
stepped left and walked towards her and slammed her into the wall with the hilt
of his trident.
Unexpectedly everything
was back to its normal speed Vesta was sprawled unconscious on the floor and
the crowds cheers were beginning to deafen him. The android came over and said
“The owners of this stadium have been observing your skill and you have a lot
of talent and we would be delighted to have you in this arena again.”Christan
looked into the crowd Batista was nodding his head and giving him thumbs up. “I
accept your offer and in honour of my now permanent weapon I declare my battle name Sixblade.”
Stated Christan talking into the microphone. The crowd went wild with
excitement. After a hour of signing autographs of newly acquired fans he
returned to Batista to talk about the days events.
After a long full day of
danger and discovery Christan and Batista returned back to their room Christan
sat eating a giant cherry type fruit called a volna that had been geneticaly engineared on the island
while chatting to Batista. “So that fighting sport what is it called, do you
have any information?” asked Christan absent mindedly. “Yes, the sports called
Gladias and has been labelled as the most deadly sport in the world.” Answered
Batista not taking his eyes away from the laptop screen…….. he was playing Xtra
Xtrodinary Xtreme Pacman X. “What!” yelled Christan angrily. “But its ok you
see because you get ten thousand credeons a month if you do well.” Christan
sighed “Well at least I’ll die a rich man.” Laughed Christan sarcastically.
The next morning Christan
woke to discover a red enveloped letter slid under his door he sleepily dragged
himself out of bed and fetched it. He sat down at the foot of his bed and
opened the letter with the letter opening knife Batista had made for him. He
read it quietly to himself stunned at what it said:
Dear Dork
This letter is
to inform you before hand that the Vesta and her Huntresses have put you down
as number one on our hit list. As a bonus nearly all the cliques have been
blackmailed into destroying your social statues I told them that we would
destroy you ourselves. You know right
now you have a lot of names right now; Christan, Bloodbomb, Professor
Chaoso, Sixblade and your recently added
name.
