Still too soon for me to judge it on the merits of the story itself, but the writing and general feel is looking good. I'll be back when I get more of the plot under my belt. Keep it up.
Thanks alot Slipshod, I appreciate it. I read your Bio a while back and really enjoyed it.
And on another note Episode Two: Out With the Tide, In With the Hawk should be up by this evening! Thanks to everyone who has taken the time to read.
A Grand Voyage
Episode Two: Out With the Tide, In With the Hawk
As Thomas climbed over the side of the boat a few of the men afforded him a passing glance, most of them shared Patricks disdain for the young boy. Despite having been out on the boat more times than he could remember Thomas couldnt recall having ever spoken to any of the men. Looking over their faces Thomas decided it was best to never attempt to start a conversation; Any friend of his Father was unlikely to ever warm up to Thomas. Trying his best to stay out of the way he made his way into the wheel-house, moving quietly so as to not attract any attention. He hoped if he could get inside his absence might go unnoticed at least until they put out to sea.
Thomas, however, had had never been very sure on his feet or lucky for that matter. A bit of coiled rope he failed to notice sent him tripping into a large bucket that just happened to be filled to the brim with fish guts. The ensuing crash not only sent the buckets unsavory contents all over the deck but brought the attention of every man on board directly to Thomas. For a few moments everything was absolutely still, Thomas dared not even move he just stood frozen above the gory mess. Then his Fathers eyes, which had been wide in a kind of shock, filled with rage and he stormed towards Thomas.
You stupid little brat! His father screamed spittle flying of his lips as he only yelled more loudly, I ought to wring that scrawny, useless neck of yours!
Dad, Im, Im Im
Thomas stuttered, the speech impediment hed had since a child only becoming more pronounced. He looked around desperately, hoping foolishly that perhaps someone from the crew would step in and save Thomas. Not a one of them even moved, instead they simply stood and watched the scene unfold not caring how helpless the young boy really was.
Come ere ya little worthless runt, his Father made a grab for Thomas but he was already scurrying backwards, desperate to avoid letting his Father get a hold of him. His foot caught on a tangled pile of line and he collapsed backwards. The fall stunned him and it was all he could do to get his hands up to ward off the inevitable slap from his Father.
Suddenly someone moved in front of the elder James, blocking his way to Thomas.
Come on Patrick, give the kid a break. Its not that big a deal. The boys can have it cleaned up in a few minutes. Thomas was stunned. He quite literally had no idea what to say. The newest member of his Dads crew, so new that Thomas didnt even know his name yet, had actually protected him from his Father. Patrick James grumbled something and then walked off, without so much as a word to his son. The young man who had saved Thomas, whoever he was, turned and offered to help him up off the deck.
You alright there kid? The man smiled at Thomas as he pulled him up to his feet. Might want to be a bit more careful around the deck, eh? Cant have you sinking us before we get out of the harbor? He chuckled a bit at himself before he turned and walked back over to help clean up the last bits of mess from the bucket.
Thomas knew he should have thanked the man, should have said something to express how truly much it meant that someone had stood up for him. He didnt though. He just stood there with his feet rooted to the ground staring blankly at the workers. After a few moments he retreated back into the wheel-house and hid himself in the corner. Pulling out his book he opened to his favorite Chapter and let his mind wander.
After a few more minutes the small boats engine started and slowly the troller made its way out to sea. Thomas, however, was far too engrossed in his book to even notice.
When Thomas did at last emerge from his hiding spot the boat was already well out of the sight of land and a light rain had begun to fall. The sky, which had been a clear blue in the early morning, had now darkened considerably and showed that a storm was certainly on its way. Looking around slowly and trying to remain unnoticed Thomas could see that the men had been fishing for several hours at least and the nets over either side were nearly full.
Thomas Father looked up and noticed the boy, bout time you get out here. Help the guys start pulling in the nets, will ya? Thomas knew better than to think it was a request. Grabbing some well worn gloves of a shelf he went to work helping to haul in the line attached the port-side net. With thousands of tuna caught up in the net it was incredibly heavy though with six men all pulling on the line made it pretty easy to host up into the air. They certainly didnt need Thomas help but it was better not to anger his Father. As soon as the net was all the way out of the water, complete with a massive amount of wriggling fish, the pole was swung around and the net was released down onto the deck. The various mutters from the men showed they approved of the catch and it was certainly the largest that Thomas could remember. The more fish they brought in the better mood his Father would be in, which meant he just might get off easy for one night.
There we go boys! His Father said with a rare grin, Maybe today well meet our quota!
By now the rain had increased well beyond a drizzle and was beating down upon the boat, forcing a few of the men to grab buckets and haul the gathering water overboard. The others were keeping themselves busy by sorting the tuna into bins along the boats rail, otherwise they would start to flow overboard soon. Not knowing what else to do, and certainly not wanting to attract his Fathers attention, Thomas joined in and started to help fling the rising water over the side.
Suddenly lighting arced across the sky and the wind kicked up, the rain was lashing down onto the deck and Thomas was having trouble seeing the others through the downpour. Waves were not breaking over the rail and sending massive amounts of seawater spilling down onto the deck and into the small hold below. Sparing glance Thomas could see that the waves around the boat had become a good deal larger and they were begging to roll greatly from side to side. The water had begun to get high, too high, and the men were working furiously now so that the entire stern didnt start to submerge.
Come on! Faster! Were gonna lose the whole damn catch! Patrick James was yelling, trying to be heard over the roar of wind and rain but most of what he said was inaudible to the men. Another clap of thunder and lightning illuminated just how desperate their situation was about to become. The waves had grown massive and any moment if one hit the vessel at the right angle they could all go under. The poles which held the nets in place were being buckled by the sheer force of the wind. The port side net must have caught on something rather large on the ocean floor because the whole boat was listing heavily to that side. One of the men had already scurried up the mast above the wheel-house to cut the main line which held the port pole in place, if he didnt one wave could take the keel and capsize the vessel.
He felt a strong hand grab onto his shoulder and spin him round, bringing him face to face with his father.
Dont just stand there and gawk! Get your scrawny worthless self up there and help him
Thomas nodded, he turned and pulling himself up the ladder on the side of the wheel-house grabbed onto the mast to steady himself as a large wave rocked the whole boat. Looking up he could just barely see the man above him, desperately trying to detach the line which held the net-pole in place.
Then, suddenly, everything was in slow motion.
A massive wave rammed into their starboard side and Thomas watched in disbelief as every man, his Father included, was swept over the side. He tried to scream to the man atop the mast but just as he looked up a bolt of lightning popped the mast and the worker was thrown completely off his perch. As the mans limp body fell towards the roaring sea Thomas glimpsed his face for just a moment.
It was the man who had helped him that morning and Thomas realized he had let him die. If hed acted, if hadnt hesitated, he could have helped him and they would both be safely back below.
But he hadnt and a good man, a man who had been nothing but kind to him, had died just a feet away from him.
Another jolt brought him back to reality as the boat listed even more. He recognized that if he didnt detach the line himself then hed join everyone else. Taking a deep breath he closed his eyes and put his hand on the first rung, then the next, and slowly he began to climb upwards. The list of the boat meant he was having to climb at an obscene angle and the constant gusts of wind and heavy rain didnt make it any easier. At last, after holding his breath for what seemed like hours, he had reached the top and finally let go a long sigh of relief. With rain constantly flowing through his eyes he began to try and work the line apart from its clamp on the mast, but he couldnt budge it. He could feel tears running down his cheeks and he screamed out form frustration.
Then it happened. Time stopped and everything around him became a blur of white light. He felt like he was on fire, he couldnt breath, and he was tumbling downwards.
Hed been struck by lightning and he knew it must have killed him.
An enveloping cold was a welcome relief.
Sorry this one's a bit longer, just kind of let it go on a bit. I promise the action really picks up in Episode Three: The Mended Wing
As always feedback is very, very welcome! Please let me know what you think 
Episode Three: The Mended Wing
The sounds of laughter echoed down the beach as an extremely bizarre looking trio made its way along the dunes. Two were women and the third appeared to be a man, despite the fact his entire body was covered in what appeared to be scales of rock. The shorter of the women, a strikingly beautiful brunette, was engaged in a cheerful conversation with the other as they walked down the beach. The man, or whatever he was, wasnt paying much attention to the females and instead was picking up shells that caught his eye. Hed clearly been at this for some time now because his left hand was already clutching an odd assortment of broken bits.
It was night now and a calm had settled over everything, the violent storms of that morning having long since blown out to sea. In fact, had it not been for one of them tripping over him, the three walkers might never have noticed the drenched body that had washed ashore.
One of the girls giggled, Not too sure on your feet there, Crag?
I didnt fall, something tripped me. Hey what the
Crag had laid a hand on the body, Come here, I think its a person!
What? Both of the women immediately came running over and dropped down to examine whatever it was.
My god, its just a kid. What happened to him? The taller of the two women had moved up to look at the boys face, and to check if he was still alive. Laying her fingers delicately on his neck she felt nothing but his cold, clammy skin.
I dont think hes alive, whoever he is. Any idea who he was, Striga?
The brunette laid both her hands on the boys back and slowly let her eyes close as if she was retreating into her mind. None of the three companions moved for a matter of minutes, all was completely still as the young woman tried to reach out to the boy. Eventually she slowly pulled her hands off and, after a prolonged silence, slowly opened her eyes and sighed deeply.
The two others spoke in unison Well?
Striga shook her head a bit, Nothing except loneliness, loneliness and pain
, suddenly she stopped speaking and gasped. The boy had moved.
Like hell hes dead! Boy? Boy?! Can you hear me?
Crag, calm down, youll terrify the poor thing. The blonde woman laid a thin hand on the boys face and whispered to him Sweetie can you hear me? Do you know where you are?
His eyes fluttered for a moment as if he was trying to awaken, fighting to come back, but just as quickly he was still again.
Striga turned to Crag, Pick him up, lets get him out of here quickly. Hes not dead yet but he will be soon enough. Come on.
Lifting the boy into his arms Crag began to walk back towards the direction they had come, the other two followed close behind.
A few hours later the same group, save for the boy, was seated around a fireplace in a rather spacious and well decorated room. Striga and Crag were seated opposite each other with a small coffee table between them on which they were planning some manner of card game In the corner the blonde woman sat alone in a plush armchair, quietly sipping a small cup of tea and staring into the fire. Occasionally she would raise the cup to her lips so take a sip then would slowly lower it back down, as though she had interrupted herself with a new thought. Her tranquility was broken by a roaring cheer of victory from Crag, apparently he had won the card game.
If I didnt know better Id say you were hiding cards somewhere in those massive rock arms of yours, Striga grinned widely and Crag only grunted a reply.
As out cold as that boy is, Crag said slowly, He could probably win easily the way you play.
Striga chuckled slightly, Speaking of which, has anyone checked on our house guest lately?
No need.
Both Crag and Striga turned towards the corner chair, What do you mean? Striga asked.
Hes awake.
And how do you know that?
Because, She motioned to the other side of the room, Hes standing in the doorway.
Striga snapped her neck around and gasped. Sure enough leaning against the wall was the very same boy they had found that afternoon now looking like little more than a walking corpse.
Where am
What are you
. The boy tried to speak but couldnt gather his breath, his eyes rolled back and he pitched forward onto the carpet in front of him. Crag and Striga were at the boys side immediately, slowly helping him to his feet and guiding him over to a large couch which dominated the rooms center.
Crag gently laid the boy down and chuckled at him Think youre Superman, lad? From the look of things you took one hell of a beating out there today. Can you tell us what happened? Do you remember?
Im Thomas, he spoke slowly through cracked and bloody lips, I
I cant remember anything. Im sorry.
Its alright kid, Crag smiled at Thomas, Youll be safe here.
He didnt know why but, for the first time in years, Thomas returned a smile.
Crag kept his promise and Thomas was allowed to stay. Months went by and he slowly began to recover his memory. The memory of that last horrible day at sea, however, had yet to come back to him. He learned a great deal about his benefactors as the days passed. They were Superheroes and called themselves the Righteous Trio, for years they had fought crime and other forms of corruption in Paragon City. Thomas remembered having read bits and pieces about them in Newspapers years before.
The house itself was massive and actually more of a mansion. Located on an empty road a good distance outside the city it was a very private place, allowing the Trio to train on the grounds and test their powers comfortably. Crags massive size, or strength, wouldnt have worked too well in a Paragon City apartment. Thomas was given a small room in the northwest corner of the complex, it was easily five times the size of the closet hed been force to live in at home.
In fact Thomas came to realize that he was truly happy.
Nowhere had people been so genuinely kind to him, so caring. All of them except the third member of the Trio. While Striga and Crag were always checking in on him and asking questions, she just stayed out of his way. When they did run into each other she would great him, but it was increasingly apparent to Thomas that this woman had an intense dislike for him. He never approached her, never tried to find out why, until one day he broached the subject to Crag.
Hey Kid! What are you doin up this early? Crag was doing his morning workout on the large lawn behind the mansion, heaving one massive bolder after another over his head then hurling them towards the woods.
Just couldnt sleep thats all.
Nightmares again, kid? Like Ive said a thousand times before: You aint got nothin to worry about here. Right? Crag dropped the bolder hed lifted and instead sat down on the ground next to Thomas. Was it something else this time?
Ive been thinking lately, and I think Id like to know, why does
why does she hate me so much? You know, I mean
His voice trailed off, he was very nervous about saying the wrong thing. Her feelings about Thomas aside she was Crags partner and Thomas certainly didnt want to say something bad about her.
Its not you, Kid. He sighed a bit, Well nothing youve done anyway.
Then what is it, Crag? I dont understand.
Standing up slowly Crag kicked the boulder sending it bouncing along through the gardens.
Shes scared of you.
Thomas was stunned, he couldnt think of anything to say. He just looked at Crag with a mix of confusion and disbelief.
She senses the same thing in you we all do. She can tell youve changed. Realizing he had said too much Crag turned and began to walk towards the mansion.
What? What do you mean? Im still the same. I havent change at all!
Slowly Crag looked back over his shoulder, Yes you have kid. Youve changed. Youre like us now.
Ok, so the action didn't really pick up in this one but I promise it will in the next episode. By the way, anyone reading these? Not sure if they're any good but I'm having a blast writing them so I'll keep going. If you've got comments or suggestions, especially suggestions, I'd love to hear them.
Thanks again! Oh, and Episode Four: On Wings of War should be up by later tonight!
Episode Four: On Wings of War
For nearly six years Thomas lived with the Righteous Trio, but never once did he ask Crag what he meant that day in the garden. As far as Thomas could tell he was just the same as he was on the beach that day, and everyday before that too. His life was simple and nearly always he was happy, he always knew that his life could be so much worse. He had come to regard himself as an incredibly lucky kid. He was taught lessons by Striga, he became an even more veracious reader and became quite knowledgeable in literature, mathematics, and even more than one language. Gifted as he was with a quick and resourceful mind, his shyness never truly went away. He would still stutter whenever he became nervous or was forced to answer a question, and his speech was almost always marked by awkward pauses and stumbles.
Despite his reservations Thomas also became quite a gifted Athlete. He would exercise with Craig, although he stayed away from trying to lift the boulders, and would often go for long runs on his own around the grounds. It was on one of these morning runs that everything he knew would, once again, collapse around him
Thomas had just rounded a corner on the dirt patch which wound its way deep into the woods that surrounded the mansion when he heard the noises. For the past thirty minutes, since he had started jogging, everything had been completely silent save for his feet thudding on the path. Now, from the direction of the main house, there came a series of thunderous explosions which shook the very ground.
For the first time in many years, Thomas remembered what fear felt like.
He broke into a sprint, though even running as fast as he could he knew he was a good 10 minutes from the house. The closer he got the louder the noises became, whatever was happening must have been literally tearing the mansion apart. He could see that a fire had started somehow and smoke was now rapidly billowing into the air and rising high into the sky.
He ran faster and faster, as hard as he possibly could, desperate to see what had become of his friends.
And then just as quickly as it had all begun, one moment the roar of battle filled the air, then all was silent. Terror tock a hold of him, he stood still in the center of the path watching the smoke slowly travel upwards into the sky. Clearly the battle was over. Someone was victorious and someone had failed. Someone had died. He just prayed he hadnt lost his friends. When he finally did make his way back to the house all the haze made it almost impossible to see. Debris littered the ground and he lost his footing several times, stumbling downwards and tearing up his hands on the remains of the mansion walls. The smoke was so thick that tears had begun to flow down his cheeks, with his clouded eyes and growing desperation he only became lost amidst the ruins.
He didnt recognize anything, everything from entire walls to chairs and tables had been reduced to mere splinters. Everything looked as if it had been burned for hours, even though the fire hadnt lasted more than a few minutes at most. After wandering for what seemed like hours he heard a small clutter and what sounded like a moan from somewhere off to his left. Stumbling along he began to see the faint outline of what must be Crag, laying very still on the ground.
Crag! Crag are you alright? Thomas began calling out as he ran to the giants side. Oh please be alive, please be alright.
Whatever had happened to him had obviously been brutal. Massive chunks had been taken out of his face and torso and little remained of either of his legs except charred fragments. At first he appeared to have already died, surely no human could survive such trauma, but a small stirring of his eyes revealed him to still be alive.
Thomas, Thomas is that you? Crag spoke slowly, pieces of his rocky skin breaking off his mouth as it moved.
Yes Crag. Im here, Im alright. What happened? Where is everyone else?
For a few moments he did not reply but, eventually, he did manage to speak, Thomas, there is
no time. You have to run. Run now.
Heaving a deep sigh Crags eyes began to slowly close, Thomas knelt closer and gripped him by the shoulder, Crag no! Please dont, stay with me, please!
It must have taken extraordinary effort but Crag grinned a bit at Thomas, Its alright, you will be fine. You are more strong than you cold possibly know.
Crag please, not like everyone else, dont die
too.
Its alright, kid, Crag reached up and slowly laid his hand on Thomas arm, My ride is just here.
And with that the kind giant, whom Thomas had come to love as a father, closed his eyes for the last time.
He heard nothing else, the others were surely dead as well. Whatever had come had made Thomas an orphan again.
Had made him alone again.
Within a few minutes he managed to find what remained of Striga. Her small, frail body had clearly not offered the same protection as Crags rocky exterior. If it werent for the characteristic pendant which still hung from the neck he would never have been able to say the body belonged to Striga. All the features had been burned away from her face, what was left was contorted into an expression of horrible pain and suffering. The thing that had killed her had clearly not made it painless; it had made it as cruel as possible.
Finally exhaustion took him and he collapsed somewhere in the mansions gardens, surrounded by debris and shrouded in the thick smoke. He buried his face his hands and just screamed. He screamed out of anger, out of pain, but most of all out of fear.
It was the screaming, however, that brought them down upon him. Footsteps echoed through the smoke and Thomas slowly realized he was no longer alone.
Well, well, came a clipped and mature voice from somewhere behind Thomas, You certainly made yourself easy to find.
Ooh, this is certainly getting exciting, keep posting!
Glad to see someone's enjoying it!
I'll have a new chapter up soon, thanks again for the comments.
Episode Five: Caged Wings
It was over, and Thomas knew it. A tall man, his eyes hidden behind dark glasses, dressed impeccably in an expensive suite walked out of the mist towards him. Everything about the man said wealth, and lots of it. As the man slowly kneeled in front of him Thomas realized he couldnt be more than 30 years old and was in impressive shape.
Slowly taking off his glasses the strange man began to speak Hello Thomas. Do you know who I am?
He was very close to Thomas face now as he leaned forward, trying to force Thomas to look at his eyes while he spoke. Laying a hand below the boys chin the man slowly raised Thomass head up as if to examine him in an almost maternal gesture.
Well, do you? The man repeated himself, but he didnt betray a sense of impatience, it was almost as if he was trying to calm Thomas, to reassure him somehow.
Just kill me. Kill me like you killed everyone else, Thomas spat at the man.
Oh Thomas, Im hurt, The man said with a dramatic flair, I would never harm you. What point could there be in that? He smiled then, an expression that would make anyones skin crawl. This man was nothing but evil, a sophisticated and calculated vile man that Thomas could not possible run from.
I saw what you did to them. I saw how you tortured them! Thomas was yelling into the mans face, he could feel the tears began to well back up in his eyes, the anger and frustration pouring out. And I
I would kill you if I had the chance.
Now Thomas, the man said, smiling again, Im going to give you a chance here. Come with us, and you will be safe. No harm will be done to you. I am done killing for the day,
Thomas didnt respond, he just sat there staring at the man, silent and a look of hatred in his eyes.
Thomas, I am a man of my word.
As the man spoke an image flashed through Thomas head. He was back in the garden, months ago, and Crag was there by his side. He remember that the giant was comforting Thomas after another one of his nightmares. Those words, those all too familiar words
Youre safe here. I promise, kid.
And now Crag was dead, killed by the man Thomas was now face to face with. Someone else had died, and Thomas was once again the only one left alive.
Left alone.
It happened before he even realized he had done it, hed swung his fist as hard as he could and caught the man square on the noose. Blood sprayed into the air and the man went sprawling onto his back, desperately trying to stop the flow of blood with his hands.
Thomas was shocked; hed never done anything like that before in his life. Never before had he felt such anger flow through him, and then allowed it to do something so violent and reckless. Never caused another person pain before, no matter how much they may have deserved it.
More than that Thomas realized that he felt something else; A new sensation of satisfaction, something frighteningly similar to pleasure. Now, he was going to pay for hit.
The man slowly climbed to his feet, doing so with grace in an attempt to salvage some of his dignity. It was not often that anyone insulted him and no one had struck him since he was a youth himself. For a moment he let himself become enraged at this affront and he stepped towards Thomas, You insolent little brat! The man yelled as he raised a fist above his head and swung it down towards Thomas, striking him hard, causing the boy to collapse onto the ground. Then he struck him again and kept doing it, each one more brutal than the last.
Thomas tried to raise his hands, to soften or block some of the blows but it was hopeless. The man was in a fury, however, and he just kept raining his fists down onto Thomas head and back, over and over again. After what seemed like several minutes the man finally stopped, hed become too tired to hit Thomas again and he had to stop just in order to catch his breath.
I dont enjoy teaching lessons like that but, in your case, I rather liked making an exception. As he finished speaking the man delivered a savage kick to Thomas gut, causing him to cry out as he lay crumpled on the ground.
You could have let it be so simple, thats what I wanted. Thats what is easier on me. But no, you had to act the hero. Well, then you can die like your little hero friends. Would you like that? The man was yelling now, his face red with rage and his hands gesturing violently towards the prostrate Thomas. Shall I burn you alive like I did them? Slowly, so very slowly, just so you can scream that much longer? Do you want me to make you scream on your way to your grave? Do you?!
Thomas couldnt respond, every part of his body hurt, he knew no matter what he said the man would only become angry again. He wasnt sure he could stay conscious if he began to beat him once more. Here he was, he could see himself looking just like the weakling he had always been. The first time he had stood up to someone hed received the worst beating of his life, now he probably wouldnt live much longer. In a life that was filled with one mistake after another, Thomas thought, it was only fitting that it end like this.
Slowly raising his head to face the eyes of the man, he prepared himself to accept his fate. He forced himself past his fear; he would take whatever was coming without any of his usual cowardice.
At last the man spoke, slowly, as he licked the last remnants of blood off his lip Sadly, Thomas, I think it is best I keep you alive for now. Something tells me you will be of use soon enough. Shame really, I was just beginning to enjoy imagining hearing you scream and beg. The man smiled again then, that same cruel cold smile, Ah well, good things to those who wait.
Bag him up boys. Lets go for a little ride, alright Thomas?
Several of the men who had been standing around, also dressed in suits, stepped out of the circle and began to bind Thomas hands and feet tightly together. Lastly one of them dropped a bag over Thomas head and secured it with a cord around his neck. He was completely immobilized and couldnt see a thing. He could feel the fear beginning to take him again.
You are afraid, arent you Thomas? Despite the bag he could still hear the man speaking from somewhere near by, I do hope so, otherwise I will have to make your stay with us an eventful one.
Feeling himself tossed into the trunk of a car, followed shortly by the slam of if being closed, Thomas curled up and at last slept. His body had nothing left to give for fear.
Exellent story. Cannot wait to read more.
Nice! Very enjoyable. I'm very interested to see where this story is going.
Episode Six: Taking Flight on the Wind
Thomas had no idea how long he had slept for but he awoke feeling as though his whole body was one big bruise. He was still bond tightly and was laying face down on some kind of metallic floor. At some point during his sleep they must have taken him out of the car, though with the bag still tied over his head he had no idea where he was now.
Slowly he got to his feet, every muscle and bone in his body screaming with protest, and began to feel his way around the room. At least at some point they had done him the courtesy of releasing his hands and feet, his wrists and ankles were chaffed raw from the cords. It didnt take him long to arrive back where he started, in all the room couldnt have been more than ten feet across.
He thought back to the time he had awoken in that strange room all those years ago, all the comforts of that bedroom in the mansion. He doubted he would find any such luxuries awaiting him now. There appeared to be only a small blanket laid out in the corner of is cell, the only nourishment a small bowl of water next to that. He supposed he should be grateful they provided him that much. It was hot in the room and the temperature inside the bag had almost become overbearing, finding it hard to breathe he sat back down on the hard floor.
It slowly began to dawn on him that he might have been left to die wherever he was. What if they had sealed him in some kind of crate and dropped him into the harbor? That maybe they had only left the water as a cruel joke, a horrible ironic play on his impending doom.
He began to hit at the walls, pound at them relentlessly. He yelled for help, for anyone who could here him. But in the end he heard nothing and no one came.
Suddenly he heard an audible click followed by a sort of humming noise, like a speaker coming to life, and then a voice began to speak, Thomas, Thomas. Dont get so upset. You cant get to anything and nothing can get to you. Why dont you rest some? I assure you it will be much needed soon enough.
Thomas didnt respond, he knew the voice all too well. That very same mature and educated voice which made his skin crawl and teeth clench. The Murderer.
Hours went by without another sound; Thomas didnt move instead he just lay there on the floor curled up on his side from frustration and exhaustion. He knew the oxygen must have been running out in his cell, there certainly wasnt any kind of ventilation and it had become harder and harder to breathe as the time passed. He began to feel the effects of a lack of air. He became more and more disoriented; at times he would fall into unconsciousness only to come slowly around again in a state of confusion. He knew his lungs were straining for more air, he could feel them burning as they ached for oxygen. His body, however, had given out. Without any air he could barely move his head and trying to shout for help again would be impossible, not to mention a wasted effort.
Then, as he felt the last strands of reality and consciousness slipping away, the air came. Somewhere high up in the room a vent opened and a cascade of cool air came pouring down onto him. He took in a deep breath, his lungs gulping for all they could take as his body slowly came back to life. Panting he dare not stand up, nor even speak, he was terrified of running out of air in the vent was again turned off.
After a few moments, however, the air slowly began to fade and eventually the vent shut down entirely. It only took about an hour before he was again out of air but, just like before, as soon as he began to lose his grip entirely the air would come back.
They were torturing him.
Slowly and painfully, the man meant to kill him.
Days must have gone by with the same process repeating itself over and over again. He began to learn to control his breathing, to expend as little energy as possible, but even as he did that the amount of air released each time the vent opened became less and less. In a few more days he knew the vent would not be open ever again.
When that happened, he knew, that would be the end. The lack of oxygen would seize his body first and then it would take his mind from him.
In those last days his thoughts were devoted to the friends he had lost, all those that he knew he had failed. And now the death of The Trio, who had spared his life and given him so much, would never be avenged. His own death would mark the passing of the last person to have any knowledge of what became of those great heroes. They would have died in vain, without any purpose, and without justice. As the vent slowly clicked open above he lay down with the knowledge this was the last time he would breathe fresh air. The intervals had increased so greatly that Thomas knew this was the last time, he wouldnt survive so long without it again.
Staring into the inky blackness that was in front of his eyes he slowly took the air, letting it spread throughout his lungs and feed his starving brain. It was then he noticed something strange. He could see the air. It was as if he knew it was there, could feel it moving throughout the room, flowing out of the vent and spreading throughout the room. He reached out with his hands, trying to feel what he could now see, and the current of air from the vent seemed to shift with his hands. Taking a deep breath and concentrating he moved his hands back the other way and again the small breeze seemed to follow.
It must be some sort of hallucination, he thought, The lack of oxygen must have damaged my brain and now Ive started going crazy.
Slowly he tried to stand up and again the winds seemed to move with him, almost helping and guiding him upwards. With a shock he felt the sensation of no longer being able to feel the ground, only seemingly a cushion of air beneath his feet. Just as he began to panic, however, the cushion seemed to disappear and the felt the solid floor beneath him once again.
Gathering his thoughts, and trying to calm himself, Thomas slowly raised his arms to either side of him extending them fully out. He reached out with his mind, trying to feel all of the air in the room, and then with a deep breath he tried to push. He pushed with his hands and with his mind, throwing everything he had at the air which was spreading out around him. There wasnt a trace of air left around him now, he had created a vacuum around himself and his body wasnt reacting to that well. With desperation he began to try harder, forcing the air against the steel walls on all sides of him.
Then he heard, at last, a small sound of creaking metal.
It hadnt been much but now he knew he could do it. Even as his lungs were on fire, desperate for air, he kept it up. The longer he continued the more the walls seemed to buckle, to give under the increasingly immense pressure. Suddenly there was a terrific tearing sound and one of the massive plates burst outward, Thomas could hear it collapsing over into another room.
Air came at last flooding in as he relaxed, kneeling down on the floor after such an effort. Slowly he became aware of the breeze as the air continued to flow into his cell, and he could see it moving around a figure. The rooms wall had collapsed out into some kind of hallway and there, standing in the middle, was someone who was looking right at Thomas.
Who are you? Thomas shouted at the figure.
What the hell, came back an obviously scared reply, How did you do that?
Thomas did nothing, he just knelt there staring towards the man almost daring him to call for help. Slowly he began to reach out with one of his hands and send a small rush of air towards the man who stumbled back a couple feet.
What are you, man? Whoever this guard was, he was obviously very frightened now.
Thomas, rising to his feet, spoke slowly You dont want to know. Now, get this hood off me.
Hey, no way man. Get back in there! I, I got a gun!
Oh, tell me then, Thomas spoke slowly feeling a rush of courage, How long can you hold your breath?
Nice! This is what I've been waiting for. The means with which Thomas will strike back. Love it.
Episode Seven: This Hawk Has Claws
The guard was backed into the corner now, his eyes wide with terror. It hadnt taken much more convincing for Thomas hood to be removed, at last he could actually see the area about him. His room was at the end of a long, bland hallway with his former guard now cowering in the corner. The halls were steel and devoid of any color, the floor an iron grate of a similar color. Doors which he assumed led to cells similar to his lined the roughly hundred foot hallway before it ended in a cylindrical elevator at the opposite end.
Sparing a quick glance at the guard Thomas set off down the hallway, his bare feet nearly silent as his steps quickened. He knew it wouldnt be long before the guard alerted the others that the prisoner had escaped. He would have to move quickly.
Making his way inside the elevator he was confronted by a mass of numbers on the panel. He would need the pass-code to get anywhere.
Well, here goes nothing. Thomas decided to chance it that he had enough control over what ever it was that he was suddenly able to do. After a few moments of poking and prying he was able to force a panel in the ceiling loose and, with a deep breath, he slowly began to propel himself upwards on a cushion of air. The shaft extended above him as far as he could see before it faded into darkness and he didnt seem to be passing any other floors. Wherever this place was he was either deep underground or very, very high up. Thomas preferred not to think of it that way; He wasnt overly fond of heights.
In the silence of the elevator shaft Thomas could hear voices coming from the other side, some sort of meeting was going on. Occasionally, above the shouts of others, Thomas could hear the distinct voice of the man who had kidnapped him. Who had killed his friends.
Thomas didnt know what he did, or how, but suddenly the elevator doors were literally blown outward in the room with a roar of air. The steel pieces bounced across the opulent meeting room, crushing one unfortunate man against the far wall. The 8 other men in the room, the shock finally passing, all reached into their coats and pulled out an assortment of firearms. Thomas, still feeling the surge of power and anger, didnt even falter. He reached out for the man closest to him and, with a rush of air, sent him slamming into the man right next to him. The sickening thud with which they hit the wall assured Thomas they wouldnt be moving anytime soon.
That left six.
Three men who had been seated along the right side of the table were now dropping to their knees, preparing to open fire with their pistols. Thomas didnt give them a chance. He thrust both his hands forward and with a violent shattering noise the massive oak conference table came loose and turned directly over onto the men. Thomas briefly heard screams of terror before they were abruptly silenced.
Then the first shots rang out. The roar of guns and the shattering of the wall immediately next to his head caused Thomas to dive for the cover of a nearby alcove featuring a rather gaudy statue. For a moment the guns stopped and he could hear the sounds of footsteps as two of the men walked around the shattered table and inched their way across the room to get a view of the alcove.
Thomas knew he had to act quickly, in a few more seconds the men would have him cornered. He had to come up with something and now.
Thomas, suddenly grinning wide, shouted, En guarde!
The men stopped, hesitated, and then opened fire at the statue. It didnt take long for the statues base to collapse and for the entire thing to fall backwards. With a crash it broke through the window behind it and tumbled out into the nighttime sky. By now the men could plainly see there was no longer anyone behind it.
Laughing with relief the two men walked towards the alcove, hoping to be able to spot their dead prisoner on the sidewalk far below. Leaning out of the window both peered into the dim lights below, searching for a body. They were, unfortunately for them, looking in the wrong direction.
From the air above them, they heard a voice singing, Come fly with me, lets fly lets fly AWAY
The singing was momentarily interrupted by the screams of the two men as a burst of air pulled them outwards and sent them tumbling downward towards a rather grisly end.
Lowering himself back down through the window and into the alcove Thomas continued singing, somehow finding a bravado in himself he had never known before.
If you can use, some exotic booze, with a bit of a skip he waltzed back into the room, Theres a bar in far Bombay
Well done, Thomas, well done indeed.
Thomas turned, nearly tripping over his own feet. Hed forgotten about the last man! His kidnapper, the murderer! How could Thomas have been so forgetful? Hed been careless and was actually enjoying it all. He felt ashamed for the first time then at what he had done. It had been self defense but he could not deny there had been some joy in it.
My, my, my. Havent we become quite talented?
Thomas was shocked. The maniac hadnt even moved from his chair. Despite all the screaming, the gunfire, even the table being torn up around him, he had just stayed calmly seated.
You! Thomas shouted at the man, he had to kill the ******* now before he lost his chance. Pulling his hands backwards he prepared to send this monster to the death he truly deserved. The man, however, slowly raised his hand.
Before you do that, Thomas, there is something I think you might like to know.
You have three seconds before I send you to hell.
Oh how poetic, Thomas. Well since you insist on being so brash, the man clicked a button on the arm of his chair, Anna, could you please come in here?
A door on the left side of the room opened slowly and in stepped a tall woman whom Thomas recognized almost instantly. The third member of the Righteous Trio. Thomas was in a daze, he had thought for certain she had died along with the others. How could anyone have survived that? Slowly he realized he and his friends had been betrayed, by one of their own.
Thomas, the man spoke with a grin, Surely you remember your Mother?
Episode Eight: The Fall to Earth
His courage was gone. He could feel it leaving his body, like a pitcher being overturned and all the water spilling out.
My, my
Mother?
Didnt you ever wonder why your Father kicked your Mother out Thomas? He discovered what your Mother was doing! The powers she had because she was a mutant! He was disgusted. He couldnt share his bed with a freak so he threw her out.
Even as the man slowly spoke Thomas could only listen. He just stared at the ground, the revelation too much for him to comprehend so quickly.
Until that day your Mother had been a force of good. But it was your Fathers betrayal that led her to forsake her weak friends and seek me out. In secret she would help me thwart the actions of those precocious mutants. For years I used her knowledge to carry out operations. But, when he told me of their new guest, I decided it was time to act.
Thomas couldnt speak. Was it truly his fault that his friends had died?
The strength of two superheroes by my side was an opportunity too great to pass up. All I had to do was wipe out those who would protect you. Even in that they proved failures.
Then, for the first time, Thomas Mother spoke to him Dont be a fool Thomas. If you turn away now you wont survive. Join us and I promise no more harm will come to you. You wont have to fear for those around you any longer. You can finally be safe.
So, Thomas, the man spoke slowly What do you say?
He could barely find the courage to open his mouth, all those feelings of terror he had always lived with had come flooding back to him. He slowly fell to his knees, overwhelmed, it was all he could do to take a gasp of air.
Suddenly a solitary image flashed in front of him. He was in the garden and Crag was teaching him how to fish in the small pond. Thomas wasnt very good and kept releasing his line directly up into the air. Crag couldnt stop laughing and with his typical smile said to him Best be careful, dont want you pulling the sky down on us!
Thomas? The soft sound of his Mothers voice brought him back to the present. No more stalling, what is your answer?
He grinned, slightly, almost to himself. London Bridge is falling down, falling down
.
What? Both of them spoke in unison, thinking the shock had driven the boy mad.
My fair lady.
He didnt speak another word, he didnt even seem to think, he just thrust his hands skyward and tore a ceiling support loose with a roar of wind. Thomas didnt have time to glance towards the others, instead he simply launched himself towards the window hoping to escape the collapsing room.
The wood and concrete made a tremendous sound as it impacted the floor below and landed with enough force to crush anyone unlucky enough to be under it. Thomas, however, was out in the open air and spiraling towards the approaching street. With only a few moments to spare he regained his senses and managed to bring himself to a gentle landing with the aid of a small wind. Turning he looked back up towards the building he had just escaped from. High above on the top floor a fire was raging black smoke billowing upwards into the sky. A site Thomas found somewhat familiar and appropriate.
For the moment he was free, only he didnt know where here was. Nearby he spotted a businessman hurrying towards a Taxi, Excuse me? I, um, well can you tell me where I am?
What? Look you crazy or something? Youre in Paragon City!
Epilogue
Thomas hadnt ever been here. Hed had to call several funeral homes before he could even find out where it was. The grave stood slightly apart from the others, a blanket of the Fall leaves scattered around it on the ground. Slowly Thomas sat down next to the headstone, Hello Father.
I thought it was time I came here. You should have told me about Mother. I deserved to know the truth.
I, well, I wanted to tell you I found her. I know she wasnt who she used to be, something had turned her against her friends. Some blamed that on you.
Thomas brushed some of the dead leaves off of the stone and sat looking at it for several moments. I read in the paper they didnt find any bodies in the floors that burned. I dont know if that means anyone survived or they were just destroyed in the collapse. I promise if either of them is still alive I wont stop until I find them.
You were never a good Father to me, I want you to know that. But you did raise me, and you did provide for me. So for that much I can respect you, but I know now I will never love you.
Touching the marker one last time Thomas stood and looked at the slowly dying tree next to the grave.
I cant fully control my powers yet. Something seems to happen to me when I use them, Im not myself. I hope in time I can learn. I just cant let anymore people down.
Thomas sighed slightly and looked at the grave again.
Maybe what I am going to do now will make you proud of me at last. I dont know and Im not sure I care any more. But Im going to do it anyway.
Im going to help people.
He turned and walked away towards the open gates, Goodbye Father.
Stepping out onto the busy sidewalk he leapt into the air and took flight on the wind.
Heh, I really enjoyed the fact that when Thomas was in the thick of things and using his abilities he went a bit nutty, almost drunk on power. The whole singing this was a great touch.
Thank you for taking the time to share this story.
Friggin excellent!
/standing O!
The Origin of The Sea-Hawk
A Grand Voyage
Episode One: The Lone Hawk
Even for a 17 year old Thomas James was remarkably miserable. His father was not a peaceful man and the frequent bottles of scotch didnt do much to help that. Thomas mother had left years ago, he barely could remember what she looked like he had been so young. All he could remember was a silhouette in the doorway walking out and not looking back.
Things had been horrible ever since that day and had only gotten worse for the past 10 years. Thomas had retreated into books but they offered little refuge from the anger of his Father, yet he would still spend nearly all his time locked away in his room reading. He must have read Beau Geste, Captain Blood, Black Arrow and countless others hundreds of times. But the one he read more than any other was The Sea-Hawk. He wished he could escape to the high seas, live the life of a pirate but still do good and protect those in need. Protect everyone from men like his Father.
Whenever he read anything he would always imagine himself as the hero and, often enough, his Father would become the villain in his imagination. A blustering, dark and vile man were all the evil doers of his imagination; And they all looked like his Father.
Thomas was often forced to accompany his Father when ever he went fishing, which was quite frequent as that was how the elder James made his living. There was nothing that Thomas hated more in the world than going out on the small fishing-troller; it was hard to hide from someone on a 25 foot boat.
This time it was a freezing November morning and one of Patrick James crew had called in sick which meant it was Thomas lucky day. Hed been reading nearly since he woke up that morning, running with Rob Roy across the Highlands on a spirited adventure. He smelled his Father coming long before he saw him, that reek of scotch on his clothes never truly faded. Then there it was, that massive frame taking up nearly all of the doorway and the large bloodshot eyes staring with disgust at the young boy.
The massive man coughed loudly then spoke slowly, Parkins called in sick. Youre coming out with us today.
Thomas opened his mouth to speak, to attempt an excuse, but quickly thought better of it. He had tried to argue in the past and his Father had never taken kind to it. Unless he was asked a question, which was seldom, Thomas almost never addressed his Father at all. The man didnt say anything else, just turned around and stomped back down the hallway. Thomas knew he was expected to follow or thered be trouble so he scampered after him as quickly as he could.
The car ride which followed the brief exchange in Thomas room was spent in silence and within a few minutes they had arrived at the docks. Even though it was early morning the small harbor was already bustling with activity as all the fisherman prepared to get a start on the day. One of the few things Thomas enjoyed about being forced into days like this were the sights and smells of all the ships and the ocean, though he was sure he would rather be just about anywhere else. With the sharp scent of the salty sea and the shouts of the Fisherman it could almost be like the start of an adventure, if he closed his eyes.
A slap to the back of the head from his father started him out of his daydream, Go on, get on the boat. You better not slow us down at all.
Thomas nodded a bit and followed his father down the wooden ramp down to the floating docks. He stared down at the planks, watching his feet, imagining himself walking towards his very own pirate ship that was set to sail out to sea on a grand voyage. In the end he knew that he wasnt marching to anything more than a long, miserable day that he would spend entirely alone.
A day that would be far worse than he could possibly imagine.
(Feedback is very welcome and, obviously, more to follow shortly!))