Fan Fiction ❯ Soul Survivors: Shadow Warriors ❯ A World Revised ( Chapter 1 )

Soul Survivors:

Shadow Warriors

Note: Man computers are stressful. The worthless pile of junk we have is well…worthless. I want a Dell. Either it's on a good hunch or their marketing campaign is seriously good. It's most likely the latter. Oh well, I'll stop complaining. This story is like a second world in my mind. Honestly the idea AND details have been in my head since like the eighth grade (I'm in tenth now). I've fine-tuned it. Revised it. Undid it. Redid it…and well…you get the picture. Anyway this is my favorite original and it may take a bit to understand but…I don't know…try it.

A World Revised

"GET OVER HERE!"

A serpent like spear soared through the air ripping at the girl's gut. She screamed in pain as it dragged her helplessly toward her masked opponent. He let out a devastating attack combination, battering her and sending blood streaming through the air. Finally she saw an opening allowing escape. She took the opportunity. Her life force had depleted immensely. All it would take was one more hit. In a flash he was on her again. It only took a punch to paralyze her.

"FINISH HER!"

It would of only took a simple kick or maybe he could wait it out for her to fall and die but oh no. He unleashed a brutal finishing move that would of sent middle-aged men crying to their mommies. It was both brutal and gory. Not to mention bloody. The girl fell to the ground. Her limp body spread on the arena, while the masked opponent made a sort of victory pose.

"K.O.!"

The black controller dropped to the ground and a girl climbed to her feet. She contemplated kicking in the screen of the TV set or bashing the controller to bits but decided to count to ten instead.

"One out of twelve?"

The girl's purple eyes stared down at the young man still perched on the floor holding a controller.

"No thanks. I prefer not to loose to my little brother at Mortal Kombat more than it takes to prove I suck." She adjusted her blonde hair behind her ears and walked to the couch. "I'm up for some popcorn and a 40's horror flick, how `bout you?"

"Actually Naomi…" The young man stuttered.

Naomi's eyes narrowed. "Actually what Nathan?"

"Actually…I was going to have some friends over tonight. You mind going out for a while, sis?" A chasseur cat grin spread across his face.

"These friends of yours…they wouldn't happen to be girls would they?" For a senior in high school, Naomi Craven's little brother was quite the player. The grin on his face grew wider. Naomi frowned. She wasn't his mother and frankly she didn't care about him emotionally harming any of the sluts that made their way over to her apartment. But she did care about her living expanse. "Stay out of my room and if you can't confide your activities to your bedroom…clean up after yourself."

He jumped to his feet. His equally blonde hair bounced playfully about his eyes. His hand shot up and arched over his face just at his right eyebrow in a mock salute. "Yes maam!" Nathan called out in his best military tone.

Naomi rolled her eyes and glanced at her watch. Eleven pm. What the hell was she going to do with herself? She shrugged her shoulders and strolled to the door. She pulled her leather boots from the coat closet, changed her mind and pulled out a pair of sneakers. She sat down and began slipping them on.

"Where are you going?" Naomi looked up. Nathan was leaning against the wall. His chasseur cat grin had not left him

"Walking I suppose." She dug in her jean pocket and pulled out a set of keys. "I got the professor's keys to the museum. I'll go study for a while. Maybe call Lauren. I don't know."

She made the last adjustment to the tennis shoes and stood. Nathan handed her a long black coat but she pushed it away. A decision she would later regret. "To warm." He shrugged and slipped it back in the closet.

"Sorry `bout this." Nathan blue eyes turned apologetic.

"I'm not mad if that's what you think. Damn, I've always wanted to spend the night in that creepy museum." Nathan laughed.

"Good luck not running into the undead." She smiled her answer and dug into her pockets again. She felt her cell phone then smiled again to answer his goodbyes.

As soon as she was a good yard down the hall she blurted a simple "Bastard" and hurried into the elevator.

After walking for a long hour, Naomi decided that the kung fu skills she had acquired from watching badly dubbed Jackie Chan and Bruce Lee movies may not be enough to fend against the possible amount of perps that maybe be lurking around. She stumbled onto the museum steps and unlocked the door. She turned the security system off and wondered back to the research office.

On the table in the center of the room were countless books, papers, and miscellaneous object that had come from an excavation near Italy. She could identify every piece. Her parents had been archeologists and ever since they died a few years ago when she was a senior in high school, she too had had a fascination with history. She chose to major in ancient world history and since had developed an absolute passion with the long lost people of the world.

The florescent light flickered on, illuminating the musky room. She shuddered. There was a strange presence in that room. She had never been much of the spiritual type but it seemed an unseen force flowed through the room. Naomi laughed to herself and shook the feeling. But as hard as she tried, it lingered.

She sat uneasily in the uncomfortable wooden chair. She shuffled through the already present papers and artifacts. All she recognized from class earlier that day. She moved things from side to side until she uncovered something she had not seen before. She looked at the curious object. Something about that also seemed unreal, just like the presence that lingered in that room. She sighed, working to calm her tensing muscles down.

Her lightly colored fingers stroked the lid of the small wooden box questioningly. She studied it. The designs did not seem to place themselves with numerous cultures that she knew well. Her purple eyes flickered. Part of her begged to see inside, the other warned her of some ultimate consequence. She took a deep breath then flipped it open. Inside, on a velvet cushion sat a tiny bell. A simple little bell. Nothing more, nothing less.

Naomi could no longer contain herself. She through her head back and laughed. "Getting all worked up other someone's present to their cat!" She laughed again.

Suddenly a noise frightened her. It sent her out of the chair and the box clambered to the floor. There was a slight clatter from the wood hitting the ground and an even slighter jingle from the bell. But as soon as the inner clasp hit the metal shell of the trinket a bright light filled the room. Naomi swung her hands up to guard her eyes from the brightness. Then it was black.

Naomi had a strange dream that night. One unlike any she had ever had. It was full of mystery and unfamiliar faces. There were dark images of war and death and light images of love and happiness.

She could not place the location of her dream nor could she place the time. They both seemed to blend; to mix in itself making something incomprehensible. A dream that was stranger than reality but at the same time not near as strange.

When she awoke her eyes met an unfamiliar ceiling. She shot straight up and glared at the room surrounding her. It seemed old and everything in there seemed old too. There was no window, just a whole in a wall with cloth draped over it. The floors were hard plaster. The door was wood but appeared crude and as old as everything else. Her bed was nothing but a cot. A water basin sat on a wood table and there was no sign of electricity.

Naomi noticed her clothing. Simple white cloth fashioned into a gown by twine and stitch. It all gave a weird and wonderful impression but a familiar one at the same time. Where was she? How had she got there? What was going on?

"Oh, you are awake?" Naomi swung around to meet the source of the voice that had woken her back to reality. It was a girl, maybe younger than Naomi with soft brown eyes and peculiar purple hair. "You slept so long. Milady said you were exhausted by your trip."

"Trip?" Naomi asked as the girl began to work around the room. Cleaning this and that. Rearranging something her and there.

"Yes. Milady said that you came from a separate world. Somewhere far away but close."

"Somewhere far away but close." Naomi repeated, seating herself on the cot.

"Yes. Milady said you were needed here and could stay as long as needed."

"Needed here?"

"Yes. Milady says evil is afoot and you are here to gather strength and restore peace."

"Why me?" What was strange was not what the girl said but instead the feeling of understanding that it placed within her.

"Milady doesn't know herself. She says you were expected and not sure why."

"But how am I here?"

"Milady is not sure of that either. She says that you are here and there you are not."

"What if I want to go home?"

"Milady says that option is not open to you."

Now Naomi was sure. She understood everything. As if it had been part of her knowledge before. Everything seemed right.

"Milady says that a warrior will be here to help guide you. Until you are to stay and relax in our protection."

The girl began to leave but was abruptly stopped by Naomi. "Where are my clothes?"

"Just there." She pointed to a chair Naomi had not noticed before. On it, neatly folded were her clothes. She scanned the pile.

"My watch?"

"The trinket with numbers and hands?"

"Yes."

"Master Toran took it."

Until now…nothing had fazed her. Not the world switching. Not the strange new place. Nothing. But now…they had done her wrong. She felt naked without that watch. She could feel the blood flowing to her face. That watch…was well…her watch. And that was important. Naomi narrowed her eyes. It was her watch.

She turned to the girl. "Where is he?" Naomi growled.

"In the hall. I'll take you if you wish."

When Naomi had first heard "in the hall" she had thought they were in a building and he sat in the hallway. What she didn't know was that he was actually way on the other side of the village in a large one roomed building. As they approached the door they heard laughter and the girl smiled.

"Master Toran is a handsome and funny man." The girl giggled and opened the door.

At the end of the room was a crowd of men and women of all ages. They all wore a simple white garment. At the center was a man in what looked like dark leather armor. He had a simple smiling face and brightly glowing black eyes. His hair was shimmering ebony and was short in the front and longer in the back. His cheeks were rosy from alcohol. He seemed to be telling a story and there on his wrist was HER watch. She would of lunged but what the girl had said was strikingly true and I caught her off guard. He was handsome. Naomi cowered back as she blushed uncontrollably. She would of fled but he spotted her and rose from his seat.

After much argument and pleading from some of the ladies he made his way toward her. Naomi dodged out the door and he followed. She stood waiting in the falling night.

"Well hello! Never thought you'd wake up!" His voice was rich but not unbearably deep. Quite sexy, Naomi thought. She shook it off. Back to the matter at hand.

"That's my watch." She pointed to his wrist.

"This what you're after?" He undid it from his wrist.

Maybe this would be easier than she thought. She reached for it but he snatched it away just as her hand closed. His eyes gleamed. She tried again. Once again it was snatched away. Finally in frustration she lunged but he stepped aside and she fell face flat on the ground. She pulled herself and what dignity she had left out of the dirt. He was standing over her laughing.

"Silly girl. I found it, it's mine." With that he turned and went back to the hall. Naomi growled.

Who cared if some people she didn't even know had just placed the fate of their world on her shoulder? Who cared about the trials and tribulations ahead? Naomi Craven was out for one thing and one thing only. Her watch and revenge. She stomped back to her little room. Toran may have won the battle but she would win the war.

Note: Gees, longer and more professional than I expected. Look at all those big words. Thanks to my wombat obsessed literature teacher Mr. Powel. Oh by the way, this story is kind of co authored by my friend Lauren Skinner. We kind of sit down and discuss chapters for our entertainment. It'll get a lot funnier and their will be more sexy guys^^! My friend Kenny helps with the magic stuff, which will become more prominent later on as well as Lauren's influence. She's a great writer and it helps to keep her on my side. Thanks for reading. Oh by the way, I don't own Mortal Kombat…Midway does. (If you didn't figure it out that's the game they were playing at the beginning.)

BYE! REVEIWS MOTIVATE! LOVE!^^