Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Aaramina ❯ Chapter One ( Chapter 1 )

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Please read this before reading the story. This story is adapted from a comic script I wrote. I wanted to make it a webcomic at least, but I couldn't find an artist who would draw it for free. Life's tough when you're poor. =( So, let me tell you now that I'm no Shakespeare. I'm not very descriptive at some points. Hell, my writing may look like complete crap at times. I can't really help it. Blame my high school English teachers (by the way, I'm surprised I even passed those classes at all). Also, the chapters are probably going to be around 5 pages long. Maybe shorter. Maybe longer. It all depends. So this story shouldn't be read like you're expecting some sort of intellectual masterpiece. If ya wanna leave flames, cool. If you like it, cool. If you feel you can make it better, and you have the time to, then fine, just contact me and we can work something out. (don't be expecting money for it, though!) Also, I'm going to update this story every tuesday. That's a promise. The Rokan Promise. No “life gets in the way of my updates baw baw baw wrist slash” bullcrap. Life's a bitch, we know. But this is something I can take my time to do and can actually ENJOY doing. Anyways, enough of my prattling, lets read some goddamn stories. =D

 

Aaramina

 

CHAPER ONE

 

The air was filled with the smoke of a burning airship, the field was littered with debris and twisted metal. It was a war zone, a common sight in the world of that time. In the middle of the wreckage was a woman, wearing a tattered, deep red coat impaled on a metal rod and her left arm missing. Her snow-white hair was dyed partially red in her blood. A man and a small group of soldiers stood nearby.

 

“Well well,” the woman said hoarsely. “Seems I've finally been defeated.”

 

“Yes,” the man replied. “You have. Your comrades are dead, your ships destroyed. Your little revolution has been quelled. The Sohacima Group shall never rise again.”

 

The woman chuckled and coughed out blood. “Well, it was worth a try.” She used her remaining arm to take a cigarette out of her coat pocket. “You win, Xensus. Guess everyone's gonna die now. But it's not a guess for me, I'm gonna be dead for sure soon.” She patted the metal rod sticking out of her gut.

 

“You're taking this awfully well,” said the man named Xensus. “Everything you have ever fought for has gone down the drain. Everything your father created... gone. Is this what you ultimately wanted, Aaramina?”

 

Is this what I want...? No. Of course it wasn't. If it was what I wanted, then why did I fight in the first place? Why didn't I feel a hint of regret, though? Was it because I was dying? Did I just not care because I wouldn't feel emotions soon anyhow? Bah, why am I even thinking about it?

 

It was at that moment that the woman named Aaramina had woken up from her slumber. She was no longer in the middle of a war zone. Her arm wasn't missing, nor was she impaled. She still wore a long, dark red coat with a lightning bolt insignia on the back over a black shirt, pants, and gloves.

 

“Huh, a dream,” she said matter-of-factly. She examined the area around her. It was night time, and she was sitting in the bed of a hover-truck she had stowed away on. The truck was still moving, and she saw that it was passing through a small country town.

 

“Interesting, this town's Omega Energy levels are very high,” Aaramina said to herself, sniffing the air. “Guess this place is my stop, then.”

 

She stood up on the bed of the truck and leapt off the side while it was still moving. Instead of hitting the ground hard and rolling, however, her decent seemed to slow down to the point where she could lightly touch down as if she were jumping down a small flight of steps. She yawned and checked her watch; it was 11:30.

 

“Great, the bars should still be open. That is... if this sleepy little place has a bar.”

 

She searched the uptown area. It wasn't very large. In fact, it seemed old as dirt. Almost 21st Century-like. The place was very quiet. Too quiet even.

 

“Man, what a boring little craphole,” grumbled Aaramina. “Why do rural towns have to be so stereotypical like this? Is there even... ah... finally, a bar.”

 

She spotted a small tavern. It was a little hole-in-the-wall place, but then again, all of the buildings in the town were hole-in-the-wall places. And to Aaramina, beggars can't be choosers. She walked up to the front door, and heard plenty of voices coming from within. As soon as she opened the door and stepped in, the entire place went silent, and all eyes were on her. The bar seemed to be full of middle-aged men.

 

“You know, fellows,” Aaramina said. “I know the clothes I'm wearing may seem odd for a woman, but even so... I think the unwritten rule is that it's rude to stare?”

 

The men reluctantly went back to their drinks, however, it remained significantly more quieter than it was before she entered the place. As she sat down at the bar, she could still feel some of them glancing at her.

 

“Geez, you'd think they'd never seen a woman before...” Aaramina snorted. “Oy, barkeep! Draft beer in the biggest mug you've got!”

 

The bartender, who seemed to flinch when Aaramina spoke, nervously complied. Aaramina noticed someone fidgeting a seat down from her. It was a younger man, who looked no older than 21. He looked to be the only person in that age group in the tavern. He wasn't very attractive. He had a rough face, he was unshaven, and was rather skinny.

 

“So, what's your story, kid?” Aaramina asked him. “Are you the youngest one in this town? Are there even any women? As far as I see, this place is just a giant sausage-fest. Or did I walk into a gay bar?”

The young man suddenly spat out the beer he was drinking and shook his head. He seemed to be a lot more nervous than the others in the place, he was visibly shaking.

 

“Narxon's a mute,” the bartender spoke up nervously. “And he has this condition where it's hard for him to be around other people.”

 

“Oh. Sorry, my bad,” apologized Aaramina. Narxon seemed to not notice, for he was chugging down the rest of his beer. He quickly left his money on the bar and rushed out of the bar.

 

“Sheesh, this town has some rather strange characters. This place gives me the creeps,” Aaramina grumbled as she started chugging down her own beer. “There,” she said when she was finished, leaving the money on the bar. “I'm outta this place. You guys... do whatever you guys do, I guess. Ciao.”

 

Aaramina walked out of the bar. “Man, these people are weird. I might as well find that Omega Energy source. The faster I do that, the faster I get out of this... wait a moment...”

 

She heard another voice from around a corner of the street.

 

“...hate having to go to the bar...”

 

Aaramina quickly ran to the corner and peeked around it. She saw Narxon muttering to himself.

 

“He's a mute, huh?” Aaramina said, grinning. “Either everyone in town thinks that, or that bartender was just lying to me. Well, only one way to find out.”

 

Aaramina decided to tail Narxon. But she didn't have to do so very long. Narxon lived only a couple of blocks away from the bar, in a shabby little apartment complex. Narxon entered his apartment, weary. “Ugh, today has been such a crappy day,” he groaned to himself. He found his bed, and fell in it without changing his clothes.

 

“So, you're mute? That's interesting.” Aaramina said.

 

Were this story a cartoon, Narxon would have jumped through his roof. Instead, he freaked out, and suddenly reached inside his nightstand drawer, from which he pulled out a handgun.

 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Easy there, dude,” Aaramina said, raising her hands. “I don't have any weapons.”

 

“Enough with the c-charade, how did you es-escape f-from the f-facility?” Narxon said, though his voice shook; and his hands were shaking so hard Aaramina was surprised that he hadn't dropped the gun yet.

 

“'Escape from the facility'?” Aaramina repeated. “I'm a traveler. Or rather... a drifter. And I must say, of every town I've visited, this one has shown me the least hospitality.”

 

“I know you're one of them,” Narxon said. “I can feel it. Everyone could. We were told if one of you had escaped, we should shoot you immediately.”

 

“Look, for real, I don't know what the hell you're talking about. This town seems suspicious. I just want to ask a few questions. Put down the gun. I'm afraid you might shoot yourself with it, as much as you're shaking.”

 

“I... I can't answer your questions,” said Narxon, lowering the gun. “But if you're really not one of them, you must leave this place immediately. This town is dangerous, especially for someone like you.”

 

“Ah, lovely! I was just looking for a town like that,” Aaramina said excitedly. “You see... I'm a hunter of sorts.”

 

“I thought you said you were a drifter.”

 

“Well, those things can coincide, can't they? Hunter. Drifter. They can be the same thing. I'm a hunter-drifter. I drift and I hunt. Okay, now it's my turn to ask the questions.”

 

But before Aaramina could ask, three gunshots rang out in the apartment. It didn't come from Narxon's gun. Rather, it came from behind her. Aaramina collapsed, and several of the men from the bar were at the threshold. A rather large man in a police uniform trudged into Narxon's room.

 

“Making friends, are we, mute Narxon?” the policeman growled, pointing his gun at Narxon, who in turn dropped his gun and held his hands up.

 

“I have a reason for this, Sheriff,” said Narxon.

 

“A reason? And what reason may that be? What answer can you give to us that we can trust? Not only did you lie to us, but you also disobeyed our rules. You were supposed to shoot that woman, but it seems like you were trying to make a deal with her. You know the penalty for disobeying our rules.”

 

“You're going to kill me? How original,” groaned Narxon. “You might as well do it now then. I should've been dead long ago anyways.”

“Sheriff! The woman! She's gone!” shouted one of the men.

 

Aaramina's body was indeed gone. There were bloodstains that indicated that her body had been there, but there was no sign of her in the room.

 

“Goddamn it,” growled the Sheriff. “I guess I didn't shoot her good enough.”

 

“How did she get away with out us seeing her?” another man said.

 

“Don't you listen to what anyone says, you idiot?!” the Sheriff barked. “These... these things aren't human, and some have supernatural powers. That's why we were told we should kill one once we saw it! Rouse the rest of the town and form a search party. We must find it before it gets out of town! And you...” the Sheriff pointed his gun at Narxon. “You're coming with me.”

 

Meanwhile...

 

Aaramina smoked a cigarette on top of the apartment complex. “Yep, this town is fucked up,” she said, acting as if she wasn't just shot in the chest a few moments ago. “Seems they have complete control of the town... I might just have some fun here.”

 

As she spoke, the entire town was alive. People were carrying flashlights, some even carried torches. They had guns as well. Some were solid ammo guns, but some people had energy guns.

 

“What the hell?!” barked Aaramina “They have torches, that's good, but they don't have pitchforks! What is an angry mob without torches and pitchforks? Blasphemous! Well yes, it is the 36th Century... but... I DEMAND PITCHFORKS!”

 

Obviously, some of the members of the mob heard her and started shooting at her. She ducked the bullets and energy beams.

 

“YOU GUYS SUCK!” Aaramina yelled, leaping to another rooftop.

 

“She's on the rooftops! Get her!” were phrases heard amongst the yells of the mob.

 

“Damn that woman,” growled the Sheriff. “This is the sixth one that has gotten loose this year. The Superior is going to be pissed.”

 

A cackle pierced the air and there was an explosion. Pieces of a hover-car flew in the air a few blocks down.

 

“You know...” said one of the men. “I don't think she's trying to escape. She's not even heading away from the town. She seems to be heading towards...”

 

“I know... there,” said the Sheriff. “Dammit, if we disturb the Superior... I'll go down there, and I'll take a party with me. You're coming too, Narxon.”

 

The Sheriff shoved the barrel of the gun at the back of Narxon's head and lead him and a small part of the mob towards the center of town.

 

“This has truly been a crappy day,” Narxon groaned.

 

END OF CHAPTER ONE

 

Note: Unanswered questions! Yup, there's a lot of them, but some of them will be answered next Tuesday. Stay tuned!