Alex

Chapter One.

Alex

Chapter 1

*     *     *

Alex breathed heavily, his feet launching out in front of his slender body, pushing off with such a force it was lethal. He could hear the terrible voices and noises screeching past his ears as he paced down Doonimore Street. He fumbled in his front pocket of his regular black and grey striped hoodie, pulling out what seemed to be a shard of blue and silver crystal about the size of his forearm. It was mesmerizing, the crystal. It seemed to glow more and more with every stride Alex took. He was getting closer. To what? He didn't know. He rounded off Doonimore onto Williams Street. Crossing onto the concrete sidewalk.

The inhuman sounds were getting louder, he could hear what he assumed were wings, on a bird of some kind. He wondered about the anonymous creatures that flew, crawled, and sprinted behind him. He tried to understand what the creatures were saying, but he couldn't make out any kind of language he knew of.

“Heesstha renckomidy loip danwhole!”

“Latha sentjik derintuim!”

What could they mean? Was this some way for the creatures to communicate? Where they trying to speak with Alex? All he could think about was the crystal clamped tightly into his palm. It burned Alex’s hand very badly, singeing his flesh, but he still held to it.

His head pounded, he could feel his own blood dribble out of his damaged ears. His chest felt like it was filled with lead. And he was dizzy, making it difficult to keep his balance. Having to push past the pain, Alex kept running.

One foot in front of the other. Just. Keep. Running. He thought.

No matter how tired or hurt he was, he had to keep going, he didn't want to stop to find out what would happen to him if those things caught up.

After what seemed like an hour of sprinting through the streets of the empty, ghastly town of Windelhelm New England,  Alex’s legs felt like they were in flames. He stole a glance down just in time to see a root of a tree catch his foot, wrapping tight around his ankle. His own feet crumbled underneath his body, and he tumbled awkwardly flat on his face.

All the air that once filled his lungs were now gone. Alex couldn't breath, he clawed at his chest trying to inhale the oxygen that his body now starved for. His vision blurred.

This is it. I'm done. No more Alex.

The only thing he saw was the crystal, it had shattered into millions of pieces, the color that once was a beautiful mixture of silver and blue, had now become a bloody red.

Then he realized, it was blood. He arched his head down, fixing his gaze on his chest, trying to focus. When his hazy vision mixed with adrenaline had gone, he could see, and feel, the bloody talons ripping through his skin.

Everything was melting. Even the buildings themselves were starting to fold on top of one another, mixing the concrete structure with the ground. The windows weren't shattering, just seeming to melt. It looked like something from a movie.

Alex gave up, closing his eyes...

*     *     *

“Alex wake the bloody hell up! You're late for school!”

Alex sprung out of bed, trying not to think about the horrible images that slithered into his mind and replayed over and over. The talons. The crystal. The very thought made him shudder and a tingle darted up his spine, making the hair on his neck stand. He slid on his school clothes, grabbed his backpack stuffed with homework, and headed for the front door. He only got about a meter from his room when he was hit by something on his head. A hand. Before he knew it he was flat on his face, something was plunging deep into his skin. He detected the scent of a mixture of rubber, dirt, and something else… what was it? Alcohol.

Alex deducted it was his step father, Jonathan Gill.

“You wake up when you're supposed to! Do you know when that is? Its when I F*****G tell you to! got it?”

Jonathan screamed with immense anger. He had a smug look on his face, one of the only looks Alex had ever seen, except for the occasional ‘I'm smarter than you’ look. Jonathan was the type of person people would call a shmuck, d****e-bag, and yes, an a*****e.

Still under the boot, Alex gave his tender arms all the power he had. The hate welling up inside of  him fueled what scarce strength left in his pathetic tired muscles. Panting, he managed to get into a pushup position, his step fathers boot’s muddy teeth still biting into his forehead. Alex raised his upper back above Jonathans leg, and spat onto the boot that pinned Alex down.

“Thats it!”

He screamed.

Jonathan grabbed Alex’s neck with a calloused hand, and slowly dragged him outside, letting Alex’s shoulder hit the door frame, chipping it.

“Heres the little twit!”

Jonathan (With amazing force and aim) simply tossed Alex onto the bus stairs. His head hit the edge, bounced off, and he fell back onto the ground. Allowing blood to rush down his head, into his eye sockets. The door slammed shut as Jonathan stormed inside. Probably to watch Football and get even more intoxicated than he already was.

Alex crawled onto the stairs, and slowly stumbled down the bus isl. Trying to avoid anybody whats so ever. But a wadded up paper flung itself into his face.. He could hear the usual murmurs from the other students such as;

“Loser”

and “Freak”

Alex was used to everybody not liking and making fun of him. He remembered getting into a fight behind the bus barn of his school. The five boys throwing out the usual verbal assaults and phrases that Alex had been so used to. It was like they didn't even affect him. Like he built calluses on top of the cruel comments and remarks on every flaw he had. The boys eventually noticed Alex didn't seem to care about their hatred in words. So they used their fists instead. The first boy threw a punched which Alex dodged, resulting in a second blow to the stomach. Alex collapsed into the ground and took the beating. Suddenly, the ground shook. The very earth under him started tearing apart like it was paper. After the bullies scattered it took Alex a second to realize that he was standing in front of a fault, or an earthquake.

What a coincidence, it happened as I was getting beat up. Huh. weird. He thought as he brushed the blood and dust from his shirt.

Returning to the present, he reached an empty seat and collapsed into it. The warm leather seemed to eat him as he sank down into the cracked cushion. He felt like he could stay like this forever. But he couldn't.

“Off to school.”

He sarcastically mumbled under his breath, afraid that Jonathan would somehow hear, and come give him another concussion.

As he sat back into the seat on the bus, he started to think about his biological parents...

*     *     *

Suddenly he was in the car, twelve years ago. He had stayed up all night last night playing his favourite game: Grimmlock: Elves revenge.

Alex leaned his head onto the arm of the mini van's seat, resting his eyes.

His mother, Alanah Stratton, had just sat Alex in his car seat. Alanah worked in a genetics lab, she was very interested in the study of human and animal genes. Alanah had mostly broad shoulders, a slim body, and a thirst for adventure. Whether it be skydiving, or a walk to the park. She was probably the most gorgeous person Alex had ever seen. Not only her facial features, but also her personality seemed to bloom and explode with kindness. All she wanted was to make everybody happy. And that's exactly what she did.

His father, Mason Stratton, worked for a construction company. He went around selling contracts and blueprints to different buyers. Mason was broad shouldered, with bright hazel eyes and shaggy bright blond hair. Almost white, with a dense field of freckles that covered his face. Some might say he looked mean, but in reality he was gentle all the way down to his heart. Always trying to protect his family, holding it together. He was like the duct tape that held all of the happiness and left the problems.

The Stratton family were on their way to a party. One of Mason’s co-workers, Benjamin Harvey, had recently surfaced over 100,000 contracts, and constructed a beautiful party to celebrate. Out of kindness and friendship, Benji invited the Strattons. Little did he know, they were never going to make it.

Alex had been sitting in the car for what seemed like hours before they had set off across town. He could still smell the toast they had for breakfast on his mother's breath as she preached the usual ‘be on your best behavior’ speech.

“No phone, no music, and no goofing off.”

Even though she tried to sound stern, her words seemed to flow out of her through as though they were sweet honey ejecting itself out of the bottle and into the world. Thick, almost solid, yet contained the joy and happiness of life itself in the taste.

The Strattons drove over the Vendema Bridge. he some how sensed something was wrong, like something in his brain telling him; No! Dont go! Don't go! But he pushed the thought away, stored it deep down into his mind... No, he couldn't discard this scary feeling that lurked inside his body, whatever it was, it was surrounded by the dark foggy mist that shrouded his deep thoughts. Every atom in his body seemed to vibrate, he felt a pain in his stomach, his head was hazy, dizzy, and he started crying. Not because he hurt, but because he knew something was wrong.

Instantly he felt weightless, everything seemed to be in slow motion. The water bottle that had been sitting his lap had flown up in the dense are, drenching his face. It took Alex about a second to realize what was happening, the truck that was in front of him, had somehow hit the minivan in a head on collision. Running the car off the bridge and soon to plummet into its death in the swirling vortex of the river filled with water.

The last thing Alex remembered was his seat belt snapping, and his body flying into the front window. When he hit, the force was so strong that it broke his arm. His dad somehow managed to push Alex out the window, saving his life. In his struggle against the pain of his arm, he glanced at his mom, she had already drowned. Her limp body just… sitting there. She looked peaceful, like she was ready to go somehow. He could never forget her face, emotionless. No, an almost smile. A tired smile. Then there were the screams. Masons. His fathers screams of pain and death that followed. All the air that once filled his lungs were being exerted into the heavy water that surrounded and engulfed them.

As Alex floated up to the surface, he could see the truck that had hit his car. The driver definitely dead, his skull had cracked completely in half. The stuff that had once been a friendly man on his way to his daughters wedding, had exploded into a pinkish red ball. The truck had shaped his body into a pretzel.

And just like that, in a matter of seconds, both Alex’s parents, were gone.

*     *     *

“What is the product of our equation Alex?”

Snapping back into reality, Alex felt a sluggish tear slid indolently down his right cheek. He fell back into his own mind, forgetting the intense flashback. He quickly realized that he was in math class.

“Umm- Im sorry?”

“Our equation, the answer please.”

Alex was lost, he had no idea what the heck was going on. The pressure was building on top of the mountains of embarrassment. It was too much. He was trying not to cry even more, it might save him from getting the hell beat out of him. Again.

“I. I have...”

The bell rang, he sighed with relief. He was safe, for now. He took a deep breath and slid onto his feet.

“Mr. Stratton, please stay a moment.”

He took the whole ‘Being Safe’ part back with another sigh. Whirling around to face his teacher, Alex propped himself up on the wall beside him, lifting his left foot up onto the wall that imprisoned him from getting out of here. He slid his hands into his pockets, nervously wishing his mother to leave the place in his head she had lived in for twelve whole years.

“Why the tear Alex?”

Mrs. Dulliken Bell was a slim tall dark toned teacher that was around thirty-four to thirty-five that always had a propensity of curiosity, always asking more questions than answers. She had been a teacher for about a year now, nobody knew who she really was, if she had any real family, or where she lived. All of the students of Lincoln High knew was her name, Mrs. Bell.

“Nothing ma'am, just thinking about my mother.”

Alex was trying not to let anything off. To let his guard down, even if she was a teacher he good trust, or even like. Alex learned at a very young age not to trust anybody, not even the ones that love him, because they always seem to find a way to give up, move on, or die. To let him down. So no way was he going to let himself fall down thee deep hole of friendship, even though Mrs. Bells heart was golden, and big, he couldn't let himself.

“Alex I am very sorry about your mother, but that was ten years ago”

Bell moved closer to Alex, running her dark hands on the stone wall, and sitting at the corner of her desk in a non- shelount way.

“Twelve.”

Alex corrected, not trying to sound as angry and annoyed as he was. He looked down at his own shoes, noticing he had two different shades of grey shoe laces.

With one eyebrow raised, Bell replied:

“Right, twelve. My point is.”

She put a hand on Alex’s shoulder, redirecting his attention back to her.

“When somebody you love dies, there is a certain time when you need to... let go.”

She had a feeling in her voice, the one that was trying to sound soft and heart warming, but came off in a concrete scratchy way.

Let go? Really? You have no idea what letting go is like, I have been through hell and hell again to try and let go! But I cant! I can't just… Just… Let go!

Is what Alex wanted to say. But instead what came out was;

“Yes Ma’am.”

She had an annoying face flooded with pity for Alex. He hated that.

“Look, I want you to take this,”

Bell slid her hand into Alex’s, and placed in something metal. Alex opened his hand, revealing a bronze key with strange markings scratched into the surface of the hilt of the key:

∞ϟ�'﹌�-�⌁大

“Why a key?”

“Well, that was my late fathers key, I don't know what it was too.”

Alex could tell she was lying, but he went along with it. Bell continue in a hushed voice. Afraid to let anybody hear.

“But I keep it because I want to remember him. Im telling you, asking you, to let go. Not to forget about your mother.”

Alex grasp the key in his palm, not wanting to let go. He slid his sweaty fist, tracing the strange symbols engraved in the hilt of the key.

Alex asked out of curiosity. He was cautious, like he was stepping into uncharted ground where nobody has been before.

“Mrs. Bell, if you don't mind me asking, what was your fathers name?”

Bell gave Alex a faint smile, as if telling him a secret.

“Gruss. I know, silly name.”

Smiling, Alex disagreed and said it sounds wonderful, then left. Slipping the key into his back pocket.

*     *     *

The day passed leisurely on, seeming to last for years. Alex found himself in the cafeteria. As he sat down at the small wooden table in the back, alone, he noticed how pathetic his school was. Its the walls were made from solid concrete. He guessed it was for protection against tornados. Watching the cracks slither their way through the surface, he choked down his absolutely gross food. I took him a while to notice what he was eating. Undercooked fish fingers, with a side of awkwardly mashed potatoes that had been heavily salted. Trying not to gag, Alex sat there, tapping his food to the rhythm of cluttering chatter.

Watching out of the corner of his eye, he sighed. Alan McAlister. Alan was a short, chubby kid who had a knack for making trouble. His body was a roundish shape, so was his head, and cheeks. In fact, everything about him was round. Along with grass green eyes, he had rough red curly hair and blood red freckles splashed across his face.

Alex put his head down, trying to avoid Alans attention. But it only grabbed Alan faster. It was like Alex was throwing a fishing hook without knowing it, and Alan was a hungry bass.

“Hey loser.”

Alan threw the usual insults at Alex, but Alex managed to dodge them. This only made Alan even more thirsty for picking on him.

“Hey Alex i'm talkin to ya! Are you retarded?”

“Leave me alone Alan.”

Alex said. Frustrated, not with the fact that he called Alex retarded, but because Alan was just an annoyance to him.

“Hey see if you can knock me out, then you can talk to me that way. Ok? Man you really are a disappointment aren't you. To the school. To the world.”

Alan leaned in close to Alex’s ear.

“To your parents.”

Alan said with a smirk. Seeing the frustration on Alex’s face. Alex’s body started shaking. Feeding off of his offended emotions, Alan kept going.

“Yeah thats right. Your parents didn't want you Alex. Hell, they probably drove off that bridge on purpose, hoping to finally have some time away from you.”

Even though he knew it wasn't true, Alex was flustered with sadness. And anger.

Gritting his teeth, he had enough. Enough of Alan. Enough of this school. Enough of his life. His hands turned to fists. Focusing twelve years of anger towards Alan. At Alan. His blood vessels stuck out, rage running through his blood. For a second, Alex felt high. Like he just took twelve packs of steroids at once. His emotions saored. In that second, he noticed something. The air. The air was vibrating. So was the window panes high above their head, seeming to bend without breaking.

Until they did. The panes exploded outward, showering the panicking crowd of students. So did the lights, busting out, raining down glass onto everybody. Alan whirled around in confusion, and ran. The cracks in the walls expanded. Running down the concrete walls, splitting them in half. They caved. The sound was like an explosion, making a big boom sound. Alex was confused. He didn't care if school was out or not…

He ran.

*     *     *