But you can read too!

So anyway, behind the fancy title is our good-old story thread.
Again, I will post more increments of my fanfic VERY SOON! But I've been a bit tied up with exams :S
We look forward to seeing what comes out of your *twisted* mind!


--
"Lu! RioRi!*
*Until next time, see ya!*

Spirit Cards Book 1: The Pusishment
Prologue
The armies of the nomads known as the Black Scourge marched forward to the farmland that surrounded the township of Hountson.
All of them were tired and weak from hunger, so the farms were top priority. The humans were interested in the livestock, the centaurs in the grain, the minotaurs in whatever they could find, the elves in the fresh meat that the soon dead farmers will provide.
The elves were most affected by the exhausting journey to here. Their green skin clung to their bones that were made jagged from the many battles that they fought frequently due to their aggressive nature. Their red irises were ablaze with the hunger for battle and flesh. Their bodies trembled with tiredness, hunger, and the excitement to be able to do what they were born to do, kill and devour.
A she elf walked to the front of the army. She was sporting black orcish armor, two curved human swords, a quiver of arrows and an elvish bow, and a dragon skull helmet.
She got out her bow and loaded several arrows onto it. She aimed her bow at the farmers assembling to stand against the Black Scourge. Many had pitchforks and scythes that normally were tools of the trade, but now they were crude weaponry that would be used to at least delay the Black Scourge for a while. If they were to capture the farms, even if the city would be able to take them back, the city would starve, for 9 foot tall minotaurs would first eat all of the crops and their highly toxic saliva would make it unfit to grow anything for years.
The she elf released the bow string and several farmer fell to the ground.
The she elf turned to her army and shouted with her dry yet sharp voice, “We drew fist blood, now let us spill the rest!”
A shrill battle cry rang out from the elves and everyone else had to shield their ears to prevent temporary hearing loss. The elves charged, the humans marched ahead cautiously, the centaurs galloped, the minotaurs stampeded into battle.
With the Black Scourge's front lines just two spears' distance away from battle, the she elf ordered a halt. When all of the soldiers looked over to the woods, they saw a band of orcs emerge. Most were in armor, but some were in robes.
If the normal rules of Midevil fantasy apply, the orcs would be the opposite of elves. Those rules do apply in this universe. The orcs were one of the most beautiful things you lay eyes on. They are mostly peaceful, but when war erupts, they are one of the strongest warriors on the planet. And, like all living things in this dimension, their spirits were elemental, though they were far more varied then other creature.
The elements are; darkness, light, life, poison, water, fire, wind, and earth. I took special care to list them so that what their strong against(left of each element) and what their weak against(right of each element). I, of course, have to explain a few things about the elements' listing. One, why is life strong against light and vice versa? Well, life dependents on light so it has adapted and had it self put in this position in the list. Two, what is rock weak against? Darkness, and why is that? No one knows. On to the story.
“Well brother, I expected you to rain acid on my parade,” the she elf called out to the orc leader, who's element was light.
“I figured you'd beat us to here Blackheart,” he replied.
“What happened to you calling me sister, Kaekron?”
“You are to evil for me to even consider you my sister.”
The two armies got ready for battle. As the armies awaited orders, Blackheart and Kaekron walked up to each other to saw a few things before battle.
Then something happened that is almost impossible to describe, so I will not attempt to. All I know is that I /'--------

My Pokemon Story
Prologue
It was a normal morning, waking up at 5:00, going out to wait for the bus at 6:15. But this morning would lead to THE most insane thing that has happened to me, even more that the “Street Battle Royal Incident”.
The bus was running late, so Spartan 170 and I did a poke-battle. My Pokemon was a Yanmega, S170's was a Heracross.
Right when the battle began, things went awry. Heracross struck me down, and he was not confused or had mistaken his target, he wasn't even commanded to do anything yet!
As my contentiousness faded, I heard S170 laughing for a second. Only for a second. I saw Heracross use the same attack that he used on me on S170. I don't know what it was, so don't ask me. I slipped into uncontentious.
Chapter 1
I woke up on the sand. I thought that it was that because that my family lived in the desert, so of course that would be sand. But than I realized that the sand grains were to smooth to be nowhere near a water source. I tried to sit up but I froze at me attempting to lift myself up. The sand made a abnormal sound as my hands pressed against it.
I quickly laid back down and moved my hands into my sight, but instead of hands, blades. The blades of a Kabutops.
Before I could say anything, I heard a loud groan.
“My whole body hurts!” exclaimed my brother.
I got to my feet, clumsily, and looked around. To my left, their was my house, but to my right, a river flowed in the area that separated our curb and Mrs. Pat's pistachio orchard's fence.
I looked around for S170, but all I saw was a Gastly on the ground. Than I remembered that if I was Kabutops, than S170 would be some kind of Pokemon too.
I walked over to the Gastly. The Gastly looked at me and said in a voice that sounded like my brother, “Hey, you! The wild Kabutops! Can you get me up?”
I just smiled and sang, “♫Born to be wiiiiiiiiild!♫”
S170 blinked and said, “Bro?”
“The one and only,” I said.
“Oh am I glad to see you! Can you help me up?” S170 said.
“Try lifting yer body up,” I suggested, failing to mention that S170 was a Gastly.
“Oka-,” S170 started. He flew straight up, quickly gaining altitude. I watched as he swerved out of control, fall toward the river, and be grabbed by a tentacle.
Before I could react, a loud siren-like sound rung though the air. When I looked toward the sound, I saw a Wismur wailing it's head off, imitating a police siren. I looked back at my brother, who had already slipped out of the tentacle's embrace.
The owner of the tentacle emerged from the water. It was a Tentacruel, trying to whip anything within reach.
I heard a ear-splitting sound. I recognized that sound as a Wismur's Supersonic attack. As the Tentacruel flinched, a Garidous surfaced and struck the Tentacruel in the head with it's tail.
The Garidous wrapped around the uncontentious Tentacruel and said, “I finally caught him!”
The Wismur coughed to get the Garidous' attention.
“I mean, we finally caught him!” the Garidous corrected himself.
As they left with the Tentacruel, a Lapras swam up to us.
“You want to go to school or not?” said the Lapras with the voice of our morning bus driver, Ms. Erma.
Me and S170 looked at each other. I shrugged and jumped on. S170 nodded and landed clumsily on the Lapras.

Chapter 2
On the way to school, everywhere I looked there were all kinds of Pokemon where walking, slithering, swimming or flying.
One Saviper caught my attention, but I also caught it's. Our eyes locked and I could feel that there is something sinister about that Saviper.
When I looked closer, I saw that it was a she. A small but distinctive red birthmark on her forehead told me that. And other than that, she looked menacing. I could see her muscles tighten and she gave me the look that I recognized as the look that a Saviper would give a Zangoose, all Savipers' mortal enemies.
“Yoohoo! Katls! Over here!” called a familiar, sweet voice.
“No, that's impossible..., it couldn't be her,” I thought. It whipped around, ripping my eyes away from the Saviper. A young, beautiful female Kabutops with spirited blue eyes was siting on a Lapras about a lane away. She was waving to me in a cheerful way. Cheerfulness, now that's a sight of sore eyes if this who I thought it was, I hadn't see her crack a smile for days, let alone cheerfulness. To much work to be healthy, if you ask me.
“Meet me on the quad, I have something to talk to 'bout!” yelled the Kabutops. I saw her eyes rest on the Saviper and she called out, “Hey Katy! S**** you!”
“No Dawn, f*** you!” snapped the Saviper, her tail thrashing aggressively in the air.
“Hey watch the language!” ,yelled Ms. Erma, “If you want to fight then translate this:usted es uno de los dos que son tan tontos como para pelear todo el tiempo!”
At that, both of them admitted defeat and turned away from each other. Dawn looked at me,grinned, and winked.
Now my head was spinning. From the stories that talked about this kind of stuff never mentioned having people from the real world showing up here as Pokemon other than the visitors!
I heard the voice of my friend, Aaron, say, “The Fellx Gang is about to go on the hunt, which is bad news for many, many people, including you Rormsonta.” I turned my head to the voice.
There was a Zangoose and Teddyursa. The Teddyursa looked like if it, no, SHE, was on the verge of tears, and the Zangoose seamed to be trying to comfort her. For awhile they said nothing, then the Teddyursa, who I guess was Rormsonta, finally cried out,” I don't want to die by the blade of that serpent's tail!” She broke down, burying her face in the Zangoose's, who I now knew that was Aaron, belly fur. He patted her head, humming a tune that I didn't recognize.
I looked over at Katy, who was wearing a cruel, knowing smile.
I looked away in fear. Could she be that serpent?
Chapter 3
When S170 and me got to the school, I saw that it was exactly the same to my real life school, with one small difference, TONS AND TONS of Pokemon crowded the quad.
I thought that I would never find Dawn in this mess, but I heard her beautiful singing voice above the chatter of the crowd. She was singing “Evil Angel”, by Breaking Benjamin.
I normally disliked that song, but with her singing it, I both loved it yet still disliked it. Normally, it only made me heavyhearted, but now it put me on the verge of tears. It was a chance to hear her sing again after three months of sorrow and hatred in her life, but at the same time it reminded me of it.

Pain, Disaster and Blood
Introduction
Welcome dear reader and soon-to-be victim. I am an Absol, for all of you who are not knowledgeable of anything involving Pokémon or are not a... (what do you humans call it?) um... “hardcore fan” of Pokémon.
But then again, it is a indisputable fact that my kind is sparsely known because most humans would turn and run if they see us and never tell of it because they hear the stories of our kind. Stories that are smiler it your “black dog ghost” story, stories that if you see us you know that something bad going to happen. Instead of death as the black dog ghost predicts, we predict disasters, frequently natural disasters.
Well, it is the honest ones that make all of the predictions. The rest of us, including me, cause the disasters. But the stories don't tell that. So even if we are strolling casually on a sidewalk, all of the humans panic, thinking that a disaster is about to happen. It's a bit of a nuisance.
We reign the world of catastrophe. Over 93% of volcanic eruptions, earthquakes, hurricanes, tornadoes, wildfires, and many other types of disasters are caused by us. All that we have to do is will the disasters to happen. It can be something as small as a car crash to something as large as an outbreak of war.
This is my story, read at your own risk, and I really hope you like stories that are full of betrayal, the eternal struggle of righteousness and evil, lies, cruelty, crime, brutal killings, crushed hopes and dreams, and most importantly, pain, disaster, and blood.

my fighter's guild story so far
http://blogs.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=blog.view&friendId=54513157&blogId=531442791

and some useful terms:
http://blogs.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=blog.view&friendId=54513157&blogId=531442648

Good work Katls.

You really need some help in the grammar dept.

You should talk your Mom into proofing your work (She is really good at copy editing).

I like the stories, you should see if there are any creative writing classes next year (You already might have some of the homework done here).

(In continuation of my story. If you don't remember where we were, then a brief recap: Our quad got to the EWT base, shot some dudes, running away, chatted with the Mawile at HQ, got a Charizard incoming and... Wait and see!)

"So what are we waiting for?!" Pikachu shouted as the four continued to weave in and out of trees at great speed. "We're boned if we don't get help soon! We need to find the guild members!"
Suddenly, in the distance, a great roar penetrated the (what now seemed like silent) shouts of the pursuing Sableye.
"That." Squirtle said, eyeing the sky.
"What the hell is that?!" Pikachu shouted, obviously bewildered.
Esbby's heart was pounding as a sound that seemed like a jet plane drew closer to their position, was it good, was it bad. No way out!
Charmander then pointed up at the sky and started laughing slowly as a jet of flame flyed through a now illuminated sky in red.
*URAAAAARGH!* It shouted as it flew over.
"Charizard remains a beast." Squirtle said cooly as it flew over, accompanied by the cries of the Sableye, who were seen in the distance to be running away.
After 3 minutes of much fire, yelling and roaring, the scuffle in the distance seemed to die down. And a flapping of great wings was heard, then seen to come over to them. A great, red dinosaur had flown over to them and landed heavily next to them. So heavily so that the ground shook slightly near them.
"Privyet." He said, bringing up a hand to his head in salute.
"'Sup" Squirtle said, smiling.
"Evenin'" Charmander said, also smiling.
"These are new recruits?" He asked
"Nah, but we are working hard with 'em" Charmander said. "They're pretty good too, might I add." he added.
"Oh Da?" he asked, intrigued. "How are you?" He asked the pair.
"Fine, thanks." Pikachu said, obviously still a little shaken by the entry.
"Good. And yourself?" Esbby asked, less freaked.
"Not bad." He said, smiling. "Anyway, what is more important is that I give you lift to Guild. Da?"
"Da!" Squirtle replied happily.
"Climb aboard then." He laughed, gesturing towards his back.
"Thanks!" Charmander & Pikachu said as they too climbed on.
"Danke Camarade." Esbby said, displaying linguistic diversity for little reason.
Charizard hurled himself back, then leant forward and run, each step cracking the ground beneath him until a sufficient run-up speed had been hit, which is when he jumped off the ground and flew into the air, with the quad difficultly hanging on top of him.

(Thanks to Sam for uncovering this).

-~-

For almost fifty years, history was accurate. Then the government suddenly stepped in and declared war against the truth. Evidence of the first major attacks by the creatures known as Futons were covered up and replaced with stories of Space Terrorism and Rebels who hated their home planet.

The select few who were let in on the truth - a group of highly skilled operates - were called in to rid Earth of the remaining furniture menace. The Children of Driscoll suit up to protect Earth; a planet that doesn’t even know they exist.

“Let’s plot routes out of all our areas, and hopefully find two meet up places. One for those of us in the States” Dewman gave a pause as the faces on the screens grew somber. “And one for those of us in Europe.” Dewman ended the message. On the other side of the world, after a brief period of separation, his teammates were getting ready for another battle. A message came in, indicating his two-mast ship was anchored and ready to head for The Treehouse.

That was two months ago.

Chapter One
In which they battle the Alpha Futon

“Damn it!” Dewman twisted to dodge a stream of bullets, his slim Paper-Mario figure contorting like an Esher origami. Unfolding himself, he snarled and adjusted his hat as someone clambered awkwardly to his side.

Jonny, a [find out what jonny was at the time] gave a sideward glance as their helicopter hovered over them - the sounds of war echoed across the desert rock as the beatings of helicopter wings joined the sounds of explosions. The soldiers squinted up at the orange sky as the desert sun brushed against their faces, not a cloud in the sky to grace them shade.

“When am I ever going to use my new gun?” Dewman held up his .357 magnum and moved his hat to shade his eyes. "A futon hasn't gotten close enough to us to give a real challenge." Jonny snorted and almost laughed at the man's eager ways when the ground below them plunged downwards before splitting beneath their feet. A slick, metal claw broke out from the ground, and the two massive orange eyes of a Futon peered up at the two soldiers.

“There’s your answer!” Jonny shouted and took to a sprint to the closest safety barricade they had up.
“I think I both like and dislike that answer!” Dewman shouted his reply, swinging around with poise to face the Futon that had broken through the hard sun-baked ground. The bullets of his magnum ripped through the air and buried themselves deep into the mattress as he emptied his magazine.

The Futon reared up, unleashed a thundering, agonizing roar that made the ground shake. It collapsed, fluff pouring out of its head. The blood pounded in Dewman’s ears like drums as the Futon's roar still echoed across the landscape, but he could still hear the distressed voice of a young woman crying for help. The reason they were here, in this barren landscape, fighting through the futon minions that continued to respawn from the Earth below them. Lala.

Lala, that silky blonde haired girl who knew little of the dangers the Daisy Owlers faced. She was innocent and free and loved her Pokémon like they were her children. Dirt and grit matted her once corn silk locks, and blood caked the side of her face. She looked up from the pole she was tied on – the sadistic bastards in these badlands found pleasure in slowly torturing their hostages - and gasped at the sight of Dewman and Jonny.

She coughed up blood, which evaporated quickly in the afternoon blaze. Everywhere for miles, sand, stained from the blood and sweat that poured out of both man and futon. Dewman ran a hand across his forehead and glanced at Jonny, crouched behind a barrack just a hundred feet from Lala. He pointed to himself, and motioned at the captured crewmate. Dewman shook his head.

“Stay there!” He mouthed and quickly glanced around him. When the sun was high and the ground was active, you can only whisper, and hope you don't make yourself seen by the spectacle of behemoths that patrolled the wastelands. However, they were careless and let their guard down- the futons had arrived. Oh Gods grace, the Futon army had found them.

The helicopter above was now shooting machine rounds at the ever growing futons that swarmed under it - Dewman couldn’t see how many futons had gathered now, but he could hear their collective battle cries drowning out even the loudest gun shots. Being hovered by the helicopter in a net was a large fuzzy whale that matched the futon’s roars with her own. Dewman watched as the whale sent a beam of energy at the crowding enemy, and he found opportunity to move.

The motorcycle Dewman rode in on was covered in layers of sand and splashed with blood, but purred to life when its owner revved it. The wheels kicked up ground as Dewman pressed on the accelerator, lurching forward eagerly. In a loud scream, the bike exploded forward as Dewman released the breaks. The air popped in his ears, and like many action movies, time became slow. The helicopter blades, the roars of the enemy, the cries of pain, it all seemed so far away as Dewman pulled out his knife and cut the rope that secured Lala to the pole. In a quick, fluid motion, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her up on the bike before swinging the motorcycle around to return to the helicopter pick up point.

“Dewman!” Dewman saw a flash of white, and heard a sound akin to a Futon's outrage. The bike caught as a futon reached out, and he saw the world spinning out of control as he crashed hard to the ground. Dewman groaned, and pushed his aching body up as a shadow casted over him. The futon had bullet holes in his head, but wasn’t giving up easily. It was the Alpha Futon.

“I…I killed her..” Dewman glanced at Jonny, who stood, gun still pointed to the alpha futon, visibly shaking. “I didn’t mean to..” He looked the picture of intensity, his face scrunched in confused and shock.

“What are you talking about, brother? Shoot him! SHOOT HIM!” Dewman pointed his magnum at the futon but received no satisfaction of a bullet popping from the barrel. His gun was empty. “JONNY!” The boy’s face was pale white, and he looked as anxious as Dewman felt. Jonny was no longer staring at the futon, but slightly besides Dewman, and as the paper cutout followed his comrade’s gaze, there, laying in the midst of midday battle, as calm as the oceans at the ends of the Earth, laid Lala, motionless, a Goddess past on.

“I was aiming for the futon.” Dewman swallowed a hard lump in his throat. The alpha futon was watching with vigor, like a smug man who avoided the gallows, his expression saying more than any words spoken. Jonny, plunged in uncertainty and misery, dropped his empty gun and, then, as if sensing the seriousness of situation for the first time, with a stern face, radioed the helicopter.

Dewman gave a strangled sob as he limped over the girl, her hair already dried with the peeling paint of blood. The man cradled the poor girl, the girl who was going to be the best Pokémon master in the world, the girl who was determined and had dreams and a life ahead of her. It was the memories and dreams that haunted the crew at night, dreams of the planet exploding while the sun bowed its head and gave into the shadows that overtook the Earth. Perhaps, Dewman thought, Lala could sleep restful now, never to have those dreams again.

There was a sudden commotion in the sky; the alpha futon lifted his huge head, and snarled as the helicopter dropped the furriest whale the world would ever see. The whale spread her fins out like wings before gliding towards the alpha futon. The futon braced itself, its massive mouth open as if to ingest his new opponent.

“Rare?” Dewman threw Lala over his shoulder and turned tail to run. He couldn’t see Jonny, but he knew the other would be taking cover as well. They had both seen what the part-whale-part-bee could do. The whale opened her mouth, and the Alpha Futon gave a choking sound of surprise. The whale was much bigger then she appeared in the sky, and the ball of energy growing inside her mouth was more than enough to take out the Alpha.

“You can’t use that at such a range; you will kill yourself in the process!” The Futon puffed out his chest, accepting death as the whale grew nearer. Her massive eyes blinked, cold and uncaring for the futon in front of her, for so many of their friends had died to the futony hands of the mattress menaces. In an explosion that could be heard from miles away, the whale used Hyper Beam. It was over.

Two hours later, the landscape was a scarred and broken battleground that marked the end of another futon raid. There would be more futons, lurking underground, but they would wait. Somehow, news of what happened to the Alpha Futon would spread through the underground, and it would cause dismay and chaos in the packs. They would regroup, find a new Alpha Male, and return to whatever mission drove them to murder so many people.

Dewman carried Lala into the helicopter, and the dead body of Rare was attached back to the net. Another whale, though slightly more portable and less fuzzy, mourned for her whale sister. Kit cried in grief as she was attached to a separate helicopter.

The sun that blazed hotly before now slowly began to settle over the horizon, the light dying with the souls of so many comrades.

(When we last left the story, the Ares had just opened fire and had scored a direct hit on the Dark Trident with its laser, a hit that looks to be completely unsurvivable...)

The event could probably be seen from space.

All along the New York waterfront, people shielded their eyes as the DamerCorp vessel Ares fired its primary laser weapon into the Dark Trident. The beam vaporised the air around it, creating a vacuum that tried to draw in water, which was boiled away from the nuclear heat. Nothing could possibly survive such a weapon.

A mighty roar overrode the shriek of the laser as Doorstop ignited its booster, smashing out of the blocks and shattering the sound-barrier half a second into its flight. The laser-beam reflected off the titanium-berryllium armour, resulting in a cone of energy being pushed ahead of the interceptor as it super-accelerated up the beam, its speed boosted by the lack of air in the vacuum of the beam. Behind it, the shockwave of its passing beat down the boiling water behind it. Three seconds into its flight, travelling at five times the speed of sound, Doorstop slammed into the laser turret and sheered it off at its base, cutting the beam instantly. But Doorstop wasn’t finished. In a fraction of a second, it screamed across the main deck of the Ares before barrelling into the main superstructure, punching through as if it were paper. Doorstop emerged from the other side and immediately pulled up, rocketing into the sky on a column of fire. The Ares, for its part, took the shockwave directly to the superstructure, which simply and spontaneously shattered. The decapitated freighter began to capsize, preparing for its journey to the bottom of the harbour. Five miles away, a gigantic column of steam was all that was visible of where the mighty battleship had been. Then, out of the opaque cloud, a sharp prow emerged. Steam rising from its deck, its ablative armour still glowing dully from the heat of the laser, the Dark Trident emerged from the steam-cloud and into the harbour, to the growing roar of all those who had watched the final battle. Fire-fighting tugs converged on the iron leviathan as she came to a halt, having single-handedly destroyed the threat to New York City.

Out over Queens, the Merlin helicopter settled in for a landing. Salaco and a DamerCorp trooper strode out from the rear hatch, the trooper lugging a large black case. All around the park, traffic began to slow as the traditional human instinct of rubber-necking began to take effect. Salaco scanned the line of traffic, before setting his eyes on one particular car; a Toyota RAV4, the very definition of the SUV. “That one,” he said to the trooper, who charged towards the idling vehicle. Raising his Steyr, the trooper roared at the driver of the vehicle to disembark quickly. Seconds later, Salaco sat behind the wheel of the Toyota, while the guard sat in the passenger seat, the case in the rear seat behind them. Salaco put his foot on the accelerator and the SUV leapt off the mark, accelerating away and into the suburbs as a black shadow swept over it.

A hundred feet overhead, the Dradelus swung around in a tight turn. On one of the cockpit displays, a camera tracked the Toyota as it burnt away. “I can’t get them from here,” Dee-Dee said in frustration. “Too many civilians.”
“Don’t worry about it Dee,” Jordan replied. “We’ll get him.” He turned to Ramius. “Right?”
“Oh yeah.” Ramius scanned the surrounding area. “Dee-Dee, where’s the nearest car dealership?”
“There’s a Ford dealership just ahead,” the AI replied. “Flagship store too for the Queens area.”
“Excellent,” Ramius grinned. “Drop us on the roof.”
“Doing it.” Second later, the bomber levelled off over the dealership. The forward bomb-bay swung open and two rappelling ropes uncoiled. Ramius slid down one in a traditional fast-roping method. Jordan, on the other hand, went headfirst; rocketing down the rope before levelling off just above the ground and swinging upright. He grinned at Ramius as he reached the roof. Ramius glared back. “Show-off.”
“Of course.”
Ramius shook his head in exasperation, then looked up at the hovering Dradelus. “We’ll give you a yell if we need backup,” he radioed.
“Roger that. Good luck gentlemen,” Dee-Dee replied, dropping off a black case before boosting up and away. Ramius grabbed the case and looked over to Jordan. “Right, let’s roll.” The duo sprinted for the fire-escape.

Inside the Ford dealership, the car salesman looked up at the roof in apprehension. The loud scream of jets had faded away, but the silence that remained seemed oddly ominous. He started as the door to the fire escape banged open and two figures emerged in business suits; one wearing a jacket, the other not. “Who the hell are you?” he blurted.
Ramius opened his mouth to reply, but Jordan stepped forward, lifting something from his belt. “United State Secret Service,” he growled, flipping open a badge and identification that he’d withdrawn. “We need a car, now.”
The salesman gulped. “Any of these have a full tank of gas,” he said, pointing at the range in front of him.
Jordan cast an eye across the range, his eyes alighting upon one vehicle in the centre of the showroom. “Sweet,” he muttered, before turning back to the salesman and pointing to the car. “The keys, now!” The salesman dashed behind the counter, grabbed the keys and dashed back, handing them to Jordan. “Thank you. We’ll try to bring it back in good condition.” Jordan then turned and strode to the vehicle where Ramius was already waiting. He blipped the doors open. The two Dradle Industries directors climbed into the car, Jordan in the driver’s seat, and started the engine. The mighty roar of the V-8 echoed through the dealership as the salesman dashed forward again, a sheaf of papers in his hand. “Gentlemen, the insurance details! You need to fill out the insurance details!”
Ramius powered down his window and looked back. “Yeah, put us down for fire, water, collision, terrorism, weapons damage, and anything else you reckon we might need.” He powered the window back up and looked over at Jordan, who had adjusted the seat and was now checking the dials. “Secret Service?”
“Peterson,” Jordan replied.
“Ah.” Ramius sat back and looked over at the plate-glass window in front of the car, just as Salaco’s SUV sped past. “Punch it.”
Jordan stomped on the accelerator. The car’s rear tyres screeched, sending the vehicle barrelling backwards in a J-turn. Then, leaping forward past the salesman with a smash and a roar, the Ford Shelby GT500KR burst through the window and onto the street, sliding sideway for a moment before rocketing off in pursuit.
[i]

As man rots

Chapter 1
Facing the Horde

I was backed against a wall in a dead end street. I assessed the situation. I was surrounded by a massive swarm of zombies. They are moving slowly at the moment, but if I kill even one of them, they'll charge.
Odds of an average human escaping this situation: 1/10000. Odds of an average human fight them off: 1/50. The odds of someone like me killing them all: 49/50. I like the odds.
I decided to not use any firearms. Why waste ammo on these guys when I can use blades that would be a lot more easy to use to kill the zombies? Just save the ammo for later when I need it.
There are several ways to kill a zombie effectively and efficiently which I'll show here.
I give the first one a good kick to the head. It doesn't kill him right away, but he'll die soon from brain trauma because of it's barely functioning brain is easily, well, traumatized. It also stuns him and an added bonus to this is that because it doesn't kill immediately, it gives me a chance to doom another to death.
Then I whip out a combat knife out and give a zombie a stab just above the groin. That's where the femoral artery divides to both legs. That bleeds even worse then the jugular vain and disables both legs.
A zombie tackled me from the front and I heard an outcry of rage from the others. The first one has died.
Here's a classic zombie kill. I whipped out my pistol and shot the zombie in the side of the head before it could bite me.
I got up and drew two machetes out of there scabbards which I had on my back.
As they charged forward, one would think that the best way to fight them instead of strategic attacks as I did earlier, you would have to brawl.
WRONG. In fact, you need to be more strategic then you did before the charge. But most people don't know that, so there is plenty of dead bodies on the ground that are nothing but mere skeletons with little bits of flesh hanging off the bones.
Before Viroteck made these things, people thought that if there was a zombie outbreak, zombies would get their prey though their numbers. The zombies proved us wrong. A survivor's downfall would be his/her ignorance, lack of needed firepower, extreme fear, inability to work calmly under pressure, and lack of needed skills. Humanity was dieing, and we all had to watch as man rots.

As man rots

Chapter 2
The History of the Viroteck Zombies

Who is Viroteck? It is not a organization bent on destroying the human race, just a small time pharmaceutical company, big time bio weapon producer.
One day, one scientist proposed that they make the soldiers that had fallen in battle useful again. But instead of making a virus, they use a chemical that revives dead cells. The CEO agreed, and they contacted the President of the USA, and the President approved of the production of the chemical.
I'm not proud to say it, but that scientist was my father. Because of his idea, my life which would be one full of high, HIGH education and peace, now I'm living on the streets with other outcasts, and I'm having to fight to survive.
I never knew my father when I was little, and my mother died after giving birth to me. I lived with my adoptive parents.
Oh man, I'm going into my life's story, back on subject!
After they used the chemical on the dead bodies it worked like a charm.
They started to make some adjustments, like adding fangs, but they made sure that the zombies couldn't spread thier “condition” and couldn't breed, but life almost always finds a way to thrive.
Viroteck noticed how much more frail, slower, and how much strength the zombies become after reanimation, so they made variations to make up for it.
First came the ghoul, they had the basic body structure of a zombie with some additions, longer fangs, long claws,an enhanced musculature system for added speed and strength, and strangely enough, completely white eyes. No one knows how the eyes got that way, not even the scientists themselves. But they didn't worry about it anymore.
Second came an upgraded form of the ghoul, the demon. The ghoul and demon were essentially the same, only that the demon was stronger and had red eyes. No one cared about the eyes.
Third, they stared to push the boundaries past humanoid zombies and went to animal-like zombies, and thus was the birth of the iron maiden, a gigantic beast standing at eighteen feet that is a combination of a gorilla, a komodo dragon, and a horned lizard. They had though, leathery skin, load of large spikes and thousands of much smaller spikes, and the ability to control other horde members.
The last and most dangerous variants were Death's Angels, a group of that suddenly mutated out of around one hundred normal zombies. Most had black feathered wings and were just as intelligent as all the other zombies, not very. But about twenty of them had bat's wings and were just as intelligent, if not more, as humans.
One day, the zombies broke out of the Viroteck building and killed everyone outside of it.
They mutated on there own, they replaced there salivary glands with glands that produced the same chemical that resurrected them, and made some other mutations that allowed them to breed.
After the outbreak, a new type of undead appeared, a zombie that made a shiver down the back bone of every human that hears of it. Half-dead. Zombies that had the ability to transform into humans and are just as intelligent humans. No human knows how they came to be.
I do. Because I'm a half-dead. A half-dead ghoul at that. It isn't that half-dead are only part normal zombie. We come from each variant.
A half-dead is literally born when a pregnant women is bitten and survives. We half-dead are orphans, because our mothers die after they give birth.
I now live with a gang of half-dead. We are stuck in a three-way war and we are the weakest. One side, the undead, had everyone else outnumbered. The other side, the humans, had everyone else outgunned. But we had one small advantage. We have zombies strength and the ability to use firearms and other human weapons.
Only one race will survive, and it's not looking like it's gonna be us or the humans.

I thought those pictures were for our PERSONAL use, Rare!

(To the story again!)
As Charizard gained altitude, the speed at which they travelled at seemed to slow. The cries of the Sableye grew fainter, and they started to break the low-hanging clouds above the forest.
"Charizard, we want to go to base camp with Wigglytuff's guys okay?" Squirtle said, moving close to his large ears.
"Da, that is what I planned my friend." he replied in a heavy voice. "I know that they are about 2 klicks south of our location. See the smoke?" He pointed straight ahead, and the four crawled cautiously up his back to look over his vast shoulders. There was a thin, yet prominent smoke against the pure white clouds trailing up into their airspace.
Pikachu tapped down on Charizard's back with his tail to get his attention.
"Yes?" he said, turning his head so that his huge eye faced them.
"Charizard, I don't mean to offend, but you don't sound like one of the... more..." He hesitated when he got to this point.
"Your accent." He ended lamely.
"Oh right!" Squirtle said, laughing at Pikachu. "No need to worry there bud!"
He turned to Charizard.
"What he's saying is that your accent is unfamiliar to him." he chuckled to him.
"Ah!" Charizard exclaimed. He laughed heartily.
"Well, I wasn't always a comrade as such." he asserted.
"No." In a much darker tone. "No, I was born and raised right in the very east. This was where the most strict enforcement of... well, straight-up propaganda was enforced. We were not allowed to see anything of the world I know now. Back then I only knew of the 'Red Land' as it was called. The Tundran territories. It was cold, and being one of the few fire-types there, I was lucky. Getting through winter without some form of protection from the snow and ice is a miracle."
Everybody gathered in closer to listen to his story. Charizard appreciated this, and curled his tail around the four, like a sort of nest. Everybody grabbed onto it.
"How did you get out of there then? Who was the ruler of the east?" Pikachu asked.
"Well." He continued. "In those days, the idealism of *one to rule them all because nobody else is capable* was the brainchild of one called 'Dusk'. He believed that with his power, he could create a society of peace and harmony. However, there were a fair few that wanted to contest him. Not as many as he thought. This was the problem." Charizard sighed heavily.
"He believed that anybody who said anything remotely negative about him was out to kick him off the throne. He sent out squads of Sableye, Houndoom... Anything that doesn't look friendly, or is powerful; every night they would raid the homes of suspected haters, and they would be missing the next day. We lived in a remote village, so everybody knew each other. By the first week, people knew something was up. The population had decreased by half, and the shopkeepers were all missing. When my father and I went to investigate-I was only a young Charmeleon back then- we found a note from the occupant of the house. It was in ancient runes."
"Runes? What are those?" Pikachu piped up.
"They are a language of old that many centuries ago Pokémon wrote in. Hieroglyphs if you like." He stated, pretty matter-of-factly.
"Anyway, the runes stated that all must leave if they wished to survive. My father took this to heart-as it was a trusted friend who we had lost- and he flew me over just west of Treasure Town, where the guild you go to is. My father took us straight to the local security authority, and stated that he was seeking asylum from the east. They took us on board straight away, my father worked for the HQ, and now so do I." He finished, breathing heavily after his long speech.
"That's quite a tale!" Pikachu said enthusiastically.
"Da." He replied. "Not one I wish to repeat too often."
"Well, we're glad to have you Chadda." Squirtle said, patting him on the back.
"Thanks. It's a pleasure to work with you." He replied. He pointed forward with his claws:
"Look." He said. "The smoke is very close, we will descend."
"Yay!" Pikachu and Esbby said in Unison.
"Alright." Was the cool response from Squirtle and Charmander.

I haven't worked on my story for a little while, I feel guilty about this.

Hellooo, I thought I'd share a very very short bit of a story I've been toying around with in the early hours when I can't sleep. Provisionally, it's called 'Cities'

Eager footsteps race in perfect running pace along lanes and alleyways. Gusts of wind throw panicked papers into spirals and swirls in mid air. There is a deep, angry growl from underground as if there is a localised earthquake keeping up with the frantic feet. The runners pace doesn't match, and yet they run side by side, anticipating each turn in silence, and were it not for the way their eyes appeared fixed, you might assume this were a regular and planned run.

One, a girl, runs with her long chestnut hair flowing around her head and shoulders in currents of it's own, against the wind and around it. Aside from her steady gaze on her surroundings and her hand clapped onto her compainions you might think she was relaxed. Her pace is long, her feet seemingly carried further than her stride would normally take her. Her footfalls make very little noise, as if she were a dancer running to be caught.

Her compainion is more grounded. His feet make the steady and echoing from a fair distance with each step he takes the ground appears to urge him on, as if wishing him on to safety.

Both runners look shabby, although it's clear to see, their clothes were once expensive and intricate. The girl's teal dress bears a faded pattern and the decorative sash has been removed to cover a nasty gash in the girls side. The boy has servicable and hard wearing trousers, but even so his knees come into view bare with each step he takes.

Both, though dirty and dishevelled are stunningly beautiful with an air of natual, earthly beauty that seems honest an kind. There is absolutely no faltering in their step and they move perhaps unknowlingly, in step.

The streets are empty , even wide and well trodden roads have no traffic or pedestrians, despite the sun being high in the sky. As the pair round a corner, they turn onto a long straight street. There are great imposing studctures either side, with architechture that seems to have been designed as it was built. Turrets jutt strangely from rooves, windows of various sizes and shapes cover some buildings but are completely absent from others. At the end of the road is a church, or grand and imposing building wih the feel of religion and reverence. The peaks of two spires stand either side of a huge wooden door, spanning the height of most of the building and the wood seems to bleed into the sandstone walls it's frame is set into. The doors seem to stretch even higher, like branches of an alive tree. The girl and boy stop for the first time and focus on each other and not their goal.
"Ready?" the girls whisphers quickly and urgently to the boy.
"Never" says the boy, with his face cracking into a huge grin. He grips her hand even closer, and toehter they begin another run. This time there seems a purposeful rhythm. The grumbling sound of the earth returns and the wind whips aroun them, both almost swirling in a vortex around them. With each stride they take the ancient cobbles seem to crack underneath them and green vines fill the gaps and push instantly onto the boys feet, not only speeding them both but lifting them with each step.

After a few hundred yards, men, who, despite being very professionally dressed guards, seem sloppy and clumsey in comparison to the movements of the incredible pair. Round onto the street and seeing their targets some speed up, while other pause to load weapons or aim with pre-loaded crossbows.

Yet, as the pair near the church the wind gusts harder around the fleeing pair and the vines begin to positively hrow the boy onwards, leaves forming pads designed for feet. The closer they get, the more they appear until, as they race up the steps of the church the doors burst alive, wood that has sat dead and dormant for hundreds of years suddenly finds new life, bursts into new vines which entwine arounnd the boy, who swings his arms around the girls and they both find themselves tangles into moving tentacles of spring green, being urged upwards away from the street and their persuers. As they reach the top of the doors, the smaller vines snap away and reveal one long, thick cord which is wound around them like a coil. It twists around them and un-peels from the door to lift them higher and higher into the air, until, withouth vocal instruction, in releases them. Spinning them like a toy and throwing them into the air above the church and between the spiral, shining spires. For a moment they almost begin to fall from the crest of height, the spinning vines gave them, until a wild thermal of powerful wind buffets them, still clutched tightly together along the breeze as if they weighed no more than a leaf.

From their high view point, the sprawling, magnificent city can be seen. Insane buildins sit built clustered togeher raising higher and higher, ontop of another, with one giant tower sitting intimidatingly over the rest, a roof of shimmering gold glinting and reflecting the heat.

The pair are gently pushed along the breeze, for some way until over the immense buildings, the wall comes into view. Beautifully hand carved, magnificent bricks build to a wall so thick it held vast barrcks. As the two soar almost un-consequentially over the wall, not thinking of any possible pursuers. The girl, her face nuzzed tightly into the boys shoulder and long hair, whispers "At Last."

(Alrighty, thought I'd continue this thing. I'm sorry for the unclear update schedule everyone who reads; I suppose that's just 2me, but I try to update regularly at least 3/4 times a week. I only do these instalments when I'm in bed late at night for reasons known but to Jebus/ The Science God.)

As they approached the smoke, a wind blew which parted the clouds below them. It permitted them a clearer view of what they were approaching. Pikachu, Esbby, Squirtle & Charmander all leaned over Charizard's curling tail (which provided them with something to lean on, so they didn't fall off his surprisingly smooth back) to get a better view. From Esbby's eyes, he could see a few multicoloured circles, each with a black hole in the centre. The largest circle was pink, and this billowed the smoke which was rising to their level. This, he thought, must have been Wigglytuff's tent. This meant that they had arrived.
"Chadda!" Squirtle shouted by him, "We need to find a clear landing spot so we don't crush those tents!"
"Da! I can see one by the river, I'll head there." Charizard responded. He responded before he spoke as the had already started a steep dive towards the bank. The turbulence caused them to bounce up and down on his back.
"Waaah! Could you hold it Charizard?!" Pikachu shouted with eyes shut, hanging on for dear life.
"Agreed!" Esbby added, mimicking Pikachu.
Charmander started to laugh.
"Hey Charizard, could you slow it down a bit? You're scaring our buddies!" He laughed.
"Oh! Sorry! I just felt like some excitement!" He shouted back enthusiastically. "But we're making touchdown right... now!"
He was as good as his word, and his feet hit the ground rather lighter than the pair had expected, making a light 'flump' on the solid ground beneath them.
Pikachu, Charmander & Squirtle all jumped off Charizard's back, but before Esbby could do so, a thick, red smushy thing curled around him.
"Hey!" He shouted, grabbing onto the big lump. He was taken off Charizard's back, and he ended up in front of his face, which was about 1 and a half times bigger than his whole body.
"Just me keeping an eye on you, blue one." He said, breathing out of his nose a cloud of hot smoke.
Esbby coughed, but smiled all the same.
He was slowly & caringly put back on the ground, and his tail patted him on the back.
"We should go and see Wiggles." Charizard said. "He'd be worried as to where you are."
"I doubt it somehow." Pikachu replied, walking back to stand next to Esbby. "With all that ruckus and a giant dragon flying over, I think he knows we're okay." He asserted in a friendly tone.
And so, the noble 5 walked along a dirt path which lead to a small entrance to a seemingly short route to the other side, which was the Campground for the Guild, and more importantly: The Base Camp for their expedition.