Brendan stood right where he had been buried. His whole costume was covered in dust and smudges of blood by the arms of his leather jacket. His eyes were completely black in color, smoke spiraling inside them like a fog, like there was a darkness that had resurrected him from his grave.
‘How can this be?!’ The Finch walked towards him with her eyes focused on him in astonishment. She began massaging her head, ‘You’re a figment of my imagination or…or a ghost. There is no way you could have survived the Dirty Fate fist…Yes, that’s true….you’re just a ghost…Sweetheart, you’re a ghost or a soul who lost his way to hell.’One would think that the Finch had gone mad as she walked slowly toward Brendan, her eyes closed, talking almost to herself like a schizophrenic.‘You couldn’t have survived the Dirty Fate fist…or maybe did they lie..? Or maybe there’s something I didn&rs‘The Blind helper committed these crimes all by her…’‘I said I do not die alone!’ she repeated as she nodded in Samantha’s direction.He stared at the Finch, his eyes still consumed in black.‘This city owes me that girl,’ the Finch said.‘How so?’ he asked.‘Ask the proud daddy,’ she said, falling on her knees at the same time.Samantha’s mother looked at her husband. ‘What is she talking about, honey?’ ‘It’s a lie! Don’t believe her!’ A man within the multitude shouted.‘It’s true,’ Samantha’s father confessed, bowing his head and releasing his hands from Samantha’s shoulders.The multitude began to quiet down.‘Baby, I’m really sorry. I’ve always wanted to tell you but…’He was slapped hard on the cheek by his wife. Tears were in her eyes and Samantha
‘Is she going to die?’ he asked whispering too.‘Can someone dead speak through the phone?’ he asked rhetorically in impatience.He obediently nodded. He took one last look at his wife and daughter who were still in tears with their arms wrapped around each other. ‘I love you; both of you…very much,’ he said and then he ran off into the road until he was concealed by a building nearby.‘No!’ Mrs. Patricks shouted and began to run after him.Samantha followed too but Brendan called her back. She stopped after having run a few yards. Her face was bowed low and covered in tears. She turned her face towards Brendan, ‘That’s my dad!!’ she shouted at him. Her face was red with grief.‘The Marauder knows…he’s doing this for your own safety.’‘How is this for my own safety?!’‘Do not question his judgment, little girl!’ he snapped at he
‘And what is this…banishment?’ she asked him as her eyes wandered in search of any sign of life.‘More or less.’‘What do you mean, “more or less”?!’‘This is a lot better than being burned alive if you ask the Marauder.’‘Banishment is worse if you ask “The Samantha”! What am I supposed to eat or drink or let alone sleep…in the sand?’‘Do you really think the Marauder would bring you out here to die?’‘You tell me! I mean, it’s not like I know you.’His black eyes slowly simmered down to their natural blue. He pulled his mask from his head. ‘OH MY!!!’ she gasped. ‘Brendan! But…but…but how?!’ She was beyond horrified.‘Calm down and I’ll explain everything.’‘Calm down?!’ Her eyes widened, ‘How am I supposed to calm down with what I&r
‘But if this Pernicious is that strong then there’s nothing you can do about it. Just let it go,’ she pleaded with her face full of tears.‘I wish I could but this is where I was born. I am human before anything else. You saw for yourself what these Supreme Races can do. If I left the people of Bradwield to protect themselves then they’re just as good as doomed. Simon, Owen, Miss Putin, Mr. Benson…everyone will die, Samantha. I’m the only one who can protect them.’She wiped the tears from her eyes vigorously. ‘Promise you’ll come for me when you’re done.’He looked aside, pain and grief gripping his heart. ‘Promise me!’ she begged him.‘I can’t.’‘Why? Don’t you love me anymore?’‘Sam, there are possibilities that I will die or I could lose myself, my humanity to my power.’ He realized that every single word coming
GEM Island. An island which most theorists believe the world neglected to mention on its map, maybe because of its bizarre but obvious almost rectangular shape, or perhaps because of its disinclination to pose as a threat to any other country regardless of its abnormal size. Containing absurd weather conditions and having mixed races because of shipwrecks, which also seemed to be the only way of getting to the island, the population reached a quarter of a billion in the early 1900s but with its location unknown, it was ignored by the world. GEM stands for: Gold, Emerald and Magical. Because of the abundance of these minerals on this island, other countries have tried colonizing it but have failed, reporting to their superiors empty-handed, their faces not beaming with triumphant grins of victory but looks of ghastly depression and unexpected disappointment. Some people used to think this island is found in the clouds or under the seas. GEM Island is found in neither of
Some people describe this story as a heart-aching tragedy, others describe it as the trials of a vengeful yet justifiable protector. This is the opposite of a fairytale. This is a legend of the boy who was both cursed and blessed with the names, “The Anonymous and The Marauder; Death’s Assassin”. A merciless protector beyond human comprehension. So, go ahead and find out for yourself if what I speak of is true, but even though regarded by some as a fraud, would you argue with the words of one of Bradwield’s prophets?You will find out for yourself that bravery, power, greed and evil know no boundaries. It was the winter season in Bradwield City and all schools had been closed because of the snow storm. Most people were in their houses warming up to the warmth of their heaters or huddled by their fireplaces. In the small street of Brannon, a street situated to the north at the very edge of the city next to the railway, Howard Eriksson, a frail old man was busy shovel
Brendan made an innocent sound as if in answer to these words. Howard took him upstairs and using heaps of his jerseys and the basin he had used to wash him, he made a bed for him and no sooner had he laid him down had he fallen asleep. Howard stretched and yawned and before heading downstairs, he looked at baby Brendan one more time. He was quiet, as if dead. Although the mother had not explained the whole story, just by looking at him, Howard felt that there was more to the story than the father trying to burn down the house.‘No,’ he said. ‘There’s much more to this story than meets the eye.’ With these words he headed downstairs. Many years passed by and Brendan was growing into a bright young boy always eager to help Howard around the house. With the little money he seemed to have, Howard sent him to Bradwield Junior School. Brendan always brought good marks at the end of every term to show his adoptive father, Howard. The relationsh
‘I’ll call your father if you keep this up,’ she continued.‘If he had one,’ Samantha mocked from the back of the class, starting a much louder roar of laughter from the class.‘Yes, we all know Brendan is adopted, Miss Patricks now can you please shut it!’ she snapped. The bell rang for everyone to dismiss and Brendan took his books and walked out of the classroom. Susan Raymond, one of his classmates joined him as he was making his way out.‘Do you at least know his name?’ she asked him in a concerned voice. Susan Raymond was a thumb shorter than Brendan and the brown and black extensions in her hair were too obvious to miss. She had suspicious looking eyes which hastily gave away her gossip talent.‘Who’s name?’ He pretended to be surprised.‘I mean your father, duh! Do you know his name?’‘No I don’t and I don’t ever want to find out,’ Brendan responded quickly and harshly, getting furious with her