A Prelude "Sneak Peek" to my up and coming story "King".

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Action and Adventure  |  House: Booksie Classic
For the past five or six years I have been developing the story of King, a great hero of a time when dark monsters and magic were not only believed in, but were a black fact.
Sacrificing his life to vanquish an enemy more terrible than any other in recorded (and unrecorded) history, his power disipates from his bloodline, until appearing hundreds of years later in his destined descendant, a leather wearing, bike riding, punk of a teenager with no regard for anything other than his own desires. Until one night he is involved in a terrible collision, and preforms a heroic rescue of superhuman proportions. Having discovered these extraordinary powers, he tries to find his place in the world, aided by the visions and flashbacks, until realising that his destiny is simple. Oppose all evil and destroy the Dark Magician Sonatore, whom has clawed his way from hell and is slowly recreating his terrible army of unholy creatures. In this tale you will see monsters, serpents and a power that will arrive to be the saviour of humanity. Throughout the six installments of this epic story you will witness resurected monsters, the last of the good magicks, vampires and a bravery in humans that we hope to one day see in our own world, and great battles fought on my very own Australian soil, in Sydney. This excerpt taken from the first of the six stories will depict the scene in which Blaze preforms his first act of heroism. Prepare yourself, for this is only the beginning of a story that will depict two wars, faught centuries apart, but for the same reasons and by the same powers.

Submitted: September 15, 2008

A A A | A A A

Submitted: September 15, 2008



A Prelude to King

You ever see that guy riding down the suburbs on the big bulky Harley, leather jacket donned with rips, hair flying in the wind, sunny’s set into the eyes and a perfect smirk set permanently in place. You know him, he’s the guy who got bullied in school, but then hit high school, started smoke and was all of a sudden bad ass. His parents don’t care where he is, as long as he doesn’t make noise and the cops all know his face. He’s the guy who doesn’t even bother coming to school most days and when he does always has a bloody great knife sticking out of his back pocket. He’s one of those guys who are quite happy to flip you the finger if you ask for help, or cut you off on the highway.

Blaze Gray is that guy. Or at least he was for a good portion of his life, until one night he pulls the wrong stunt and gets smashed up by a truck and a car.

He slammed to the ground covered in cuts and bruises. His sun glasses left their mark around his eyes and his bike had been turned to nothing more than scrap. He lay on the ground not wanting to move. He heard an explosion. The car he had collided with had caught fire and the gas tanker behind was dented badly and could go up at any moment. He semed to remember faces… horrified… from when he hit the car. Children. Two small boys and a pretty girl with blonde hair.
The twisted face of a man in the drivers’ seat and the deafened scream of a terrified mother thinking only for her children.
He found the strength, somewhere deep inside, and the once arrogant mutt of a boy pulls himself to his feet. He staggered to the burning car, bleeding from his nose and mouth. He reached the car and peered through the cracked back door window. All three kids were unconscious, their faces seemingly untroubled.
A loud crack from above alerted him. Blaze looked up to see that a shops overhead cloth sign had caught fire. With the material loosened the metal rigging creaked snapped and fell. One of the poles bounced off the roof of the car and hit Blaze in the face. He fell to the ground, stars in his eyes. He heard a blood curdling scream. He wrenched himself to his feet and tried the door of the car. A dent in the side had made opening it impossible. Blaze gave final pull and the door came loose and fell to the ground. He reached in and unbuckled the first boy, the youngest it seemed and pulled him out. He had fair hair and olive skin. He seemed to be about five. Blaze stumbled back away from the inferno and turned for a place to place the kid. He saw nothing, and so improvises. He kicked in the window of a café and placed the kid down on one of the cushioned separate booths.
He returned to the car and took the second boy, also fair haired with olive skin and about twelve years old. He lay him down next to his brother in the booth. He returned for the girl. She seemed so beautiful, despite the blood clotting her hair and trailing down her cheek. He placed her gently in the next booth over from her brothers. She opened her eyes momentarily as Blaze lay her down.
She tried to speak, “who… I…” but she lapsed back into unconsciousness.
Blaze was frozen for a moment. Her voice had been like an angel’s, soft and kind.
But then he snapped back into the time and sprinted back into the glowing orange street.
He moved around to the passenger seat of the front and pulled it open. He was horrified not only to see that one of the poles from the sign had gone right through the mother’s leg… but also to see that she was still conscious and in pain.
Tears were running down her face and her hands clutched loosely at her leg, which was smeared with blood.
“My… kids… are… they...” she sobbed.
“They’re fine,” said Blaze in a calm that surprised him.
He tried to move the pole. The woman moaned and the pole didn’t budge.
A gruesome thought entered his mind. He got down on his knees and peered under the car. His fears were right. The pole had gone right through the bottom of the car and was embedded in the asphalt. He got back to his feet and looked the woman in the eyes.
“This is gonna hurt a lot,” he muttered.
He took hold of the pole and braced himself. Then with all the strength he had wrenched the pole up. It came loose from the ground below and the top of it broke through the roof. The woman let out a horrible screech as the metal rubbed against her muscle and bone, cutting and cracking. Finally the last of it came free from her thigh and Blaze threw the pole right up and it crashed to the ground beside the car. The woman cried as Blaze lifted her out of the car with almost no effort. He carried her to her children and propped her against the seat, so her head was next to her son’s. She had the same face as her daughters.
Blaze made the final trek to the wreck and pulled the driver’s door open. A lifeless body was what he saw. Glass littered his chest and face and blood covered his front. Blaze checked his pulse.
Blaze felt as though he had been hit in the chest with a mallet. It was his fault. He had just robbed three children of a father, and possibly a mother. He was confused. He didn’t know what to do. The flames leapt up around him, but it was as though it was just air licking against his skin and clothes. He leant forward and unbuckled the dead man, and lifted him from his seat, as tenderly as he had for his family. He placed him next to his wife. She turned slowly to her husband, “Brian?”
He didn’t answer. He couldn’t answer her.
Blaze turned and walked slowly out of the room. He stood in the middle of the street, staring at the wreckage and chaos he had created. The car was now swallowed in flames. They were inching closer to the tanker.
Blaze saw this. He stepped forward, hoping to do something… anything.
Finally the flames crept up into the massive fuel container.
The gas inside ignited with such force that it blew the metal apart, disintegrating the cab at the front of the vehicle.
Something hard and blazing hot struck Blaze in the chest as he ran toward the blaze. He could see the flames, the explosion, yet still he ran. And then the flames reached him, seconds after igniting, and enveloped him. Their terrible force threw Blaze from his feet and propelled him back down the street, his body littered with debris. He landed on the road with a loud thud, cracking the asphalt around him. The flames slipped away from his body and died down from their initial rage and Blaze was left smoking on the road, breathing like a fish thrown onto a rock by the sea, gasping for breath. His eyes were as wide as golf balls, pain finding its way into his brain through every inch of his body. Things began to dim. He could no longer see the stars above him.
He thought of the man he had killed, and the lives he had damaged.
He could barely see anything now.
And the beautiful girl he had rescued, her lips appearing so soft, her hair so golden.

And then all was dark.

Send me your thoughts and wish me luck to get my laptop back so I can bring you the rest of the beginning.

Cheers, Dylan.

© Copyright 2017 DylanJH. All rights reserved.

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