Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Apocalypse Game ❯ Chapter 1
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: OreSama 
Karaka Slater is spending another day in detention. Despite the Principal's harsh words, Karaka is detirmined to keep pride in herself.
Miscellaneous: Original Stories Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Action / Drama / Fantasy | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 07.09.2008 | Pages: 2 | Words: 2.3K | Visits: 189 | Status: Completed
Karaka Slater is spending another day in detention. Despite the Principal's harsh words, Karaka is detirmined to keep pride in herself.
Miscellaneous: Original Stories Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Action / Drama / Fantasy | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 07.09.2008 | Pages: 2 | Words: 2.3K | Visits: 189 | Status: Completed
Author's Note:This story is my original work and not based of any pre existing work.
1
Karaka Slater sat completely apathetic to her predicament. Only shades of sunlight that managed to slip through the blinders offered any light, vague outlines of other desks and a chalk board visible to her. The only sounds came from outside the room, the occasional walk by discussion, the endless tap tap tapping of a pencil followed by maddening scribbles. Karaka twirled some of her long, green hair in her finger, over and over. She was fairly tall, close to five and a half feet, but her slouching made her seem shorter.
How long are they going to keep me in here? I just want to leave already, is there even a point to this?
The door opened swiftly, the assault of light forcing Karaka to shield her eyes. She couldn't quite see the man except for a blue suit, business like suit. He turned the lights on, the assault on her eyes continued to the point Karaka moaned out loud. She rubbed her eyes vigorously. No fair at all, that hurts! You lock me in this dungeon for who knows how long and then turn on all the lights like that! If I have any eye damage I'm taking suit!
"I assume the symbolism is lost on such a simple mind like yours. The dark is where you're heading miss, and the longer you're there, the harder it is to adjust to the light. I hope you can at least understand why you're here" said the man. Karaka's eyes finally adjusted to the light, taking a good look at the man she knew only as Principal. The contempt showed in her face, almost out of instinct.
"No, I don't sir" said Karaka. She avoided eye contact with him for reasons she didn't know. She looked to the clock that she could now see. Two hours she had spent in there. "So you don't see anything wrong with disrupting a gym class?" asked the principal. "I've seen guys do it all the time, what's the big deal" said Karaka.
I know what the big deal is alright, but you won't say it. You'll sugarcoat it and try to make it sound like something else. Either that or you'll skip it completely. I'm going with the second one, you'll skip it completely.
Silence fell like a drape over the room. The ticking of the clock ticked, ticked, ticked like a timebomb. The Principal tapped his fingers on his leg, Karaka again rolling her finger around in her hair. Both took notice of the other's mannerisms, looking for visible weakness behind it, as though they were a shield for their most uncomfortable plight. Their faces were apathetic, unreadable.
"Karaka, allow me to be blunt. There's no place in a functioning society for girls like you. For society to function, every member must know their place, but you can't quite understand your place" said the principal. Karaka's finger stopped twirling, instead letting the finger slide out with a sense of tense grace.
The clock kept ticking and ticking. Tick tick tick tick.
Karaka stood up with such ferocity the principal risked falling over in his seat. "Why don't you go ahead and tell me what my place is!" snapped Karaka. The principal tidied himself up, unable to mask the sound of his heart beating like a hammer against a door and with all the intensity, thump thump thump thump. The expression on his face seemed to convey a mixed feeling to Karaka, as though he wasn't sure what to think. Karaka's own heart was beating from the adrenaline rush, her arms quivering, her voice choked up not from fear but from an intense realization and satisfaction of her actions.
Silence again. Tick tick tick tick, thump thump thump thump.
"The Girl's Graduation ceremony is at Three o clock this saturday. You have just enough to graduate, I don't see why you're so rebellious now. Is this where you want to spend two hours after school for the next two days? You don't have to come here, all you have to do is follow the rules, or are they too complicated for your simple little mind? You should be grateful of the circumstances of your birth. You have a simple life ahead of you, a simple life for a simple mind. You're a beautiful young lady and a good catch for any boy, I don't see why you would want to complicate things. I want to issue this warning and I want to issue it now miss, that the next time you cause trouble, detention will be more severe. Now please leave here and please see to it we don't meet like this anymore" said the principal.
Karaka stormed outside the room and of the school as well. She was greeted by the empty hallways that had such an ominous feeling to them, almost like a preface to macrabe intentions. Sometimes she wondered if spirits wandered the hall ways. It was an eerie experience. This was in stark constrast to the outside where the sun radiated with a beaming light expressing the joy of being in it's presence.
A simple life for a simple mind
She strolled down the concrete road, smooth a surface as could be imagined that was busy as ever, people walking back and forth across Karaka, but she noticed not a single one, lost in her own world of thoughts.
I'll take it! I'll take your harder detentions! Keep making them harder, I'll keep taking them and the only thing you can do is watch me take them without a problem and realize you lose. You sit there and talk down to me, you sit there and try to tear me down, go ahead, I'll take it all and then some! I'll be gone in two more days and you won't have the satisfaction of breaking me down, like you break down other kids. I'll never cry in front of you, ever. I'm stronger then your other girls, I'm stronger then your boys, I'm stronger then you.
Her school was known for it's rigid discipline system. The principal was the main antagonizer. He would have his boys hit and his girls verbaly hit. Eventually they all either broke down crying or dropped out of school, unable to take it. Karaka kept taking his blows with a quiet dignity, though they were far from painless blows. Every put down was like a needle into the arm, a slight stab of pain for one, but as more and more come in like the stingning of a thousand bees, the pain begins to grow.
Karaka's home wasn't anything special. It was a one story house with brown rugs carpeting the entirety of the floor. Wind chimes hung by the door, the music they create soothing Karaka's mind upon entering every time. They had an average sized television but no Media Players. The curtains were dark green, currently open to allow the streaks of sunlight to stretch across the floor and even to the walls.
Karaka saw dinner already on the small round table, a clean white cloth over it with bright red beads strung on the edges. Her father walked in, placing his own dinner before him. Her father was a sturdy man reaching his fourties. However many commented he looked like he was in his twenties, and many considered him to be the oldest ladies man in town, even though he had no ambitions for another woman. He got a kick out of such a compliment none the less. He adjusted his glasses, taking his seat at the table. "Typical school day huh?" he asked.
"Pretty much" said Karaka sitting down. Her father had not punished or even scolded her for some time, and Karaka took notice of this. It wasn't his usual behaviour, and Karaka sensed something was wrong. However she didn't prod into his affairs, so he wouldn't prod into hers. No, she figured, that wasn't it. Scrape, scrap, scrape, chew chew chew. Their clock was digital, no tick tick ticking. The silence wasn't nearly as tense as with the principal
Buzz.
"I'll get that" said her father. He went over to the door, a middle aged woman standing there. "Sorry to bother you but I came to-
Her father walked away hurriedly, rushing up the stairs like officers going in for an arrest, coming down with a book he handed over to her. "Thank you very much for letting me borrow this" her father said. "Any time" said the woman. She looked past him at Karaka.
"How are you doing?" asked the woman. Karaka turned with a bright cheery face. "I'm fine" she said. It wasn't an act. Karaka looked to all the world as anti social, but in reality, friendly converse would see her mood brighten immidiately. "Your daughter is so nice, I hope mine grows up the same way. You know those terrible twos. Well, I better get back" said the woman. She walked away. Karaka thought about that woman, thought about her going home to her daughter, cuddiling her, putting her to bed, feeding her. She felt a moist sensastion building up in her eyes, wiping her eyes before it could come to fruition. Karaka wasted no time finishing with her dinner.
The cemetary looked even more unpleasant under the radiant sunlight, almost as a metaphorical clash of light and darkness. The shadows of the tombstones were like death itself staring at anyone walking by. The light made the tombstones look almost glittery, at least at the very top of the tombstones. The ground was only half covered by grass and for all the world looked to be as dead as the people buried in it.
The cemetary however was even worse today then the normal, as today is was accompanied by frightening cries from agony that could pierce Hell itself. From beneath the ground something was tearing through. It wasn't even in a grave, but rather inbetween the two. A hand came out, a hand easily tripled the size of any human hand, with grey flesh that looked almost decayed. It stabbed into the ground, trying to pull out the rest of it's body.
This new light, this new world, this new body, and the only thing of old I carry, is hatred. Hatred for you. The road to your end will be paved starting today.
Karaka's backyard wasn't big by any means, surrounded by small wooden posts, it more resembled a tiny piece of farmland with moist and plentiful grass over it. Karaka's backyard, like most, was as exposed as the front yard, which she was fine with. The only material within the fence was a tall, wooden post. Karaka slashed at it with her sword. The sword was about three foot in length with white steel, the tip and sides masterfully crafted and razor sharp, with a golden handle. Karaka swung hard and fast, imagining the principal as she struck the post. She was pouring in sweat, people walking by just shaking their heads at her. After another harsh swing, she finally fell backwards, an ensuing struggle to catch her breath following. She closed her eyes, letting out a sigh of satisfaction, the feeling of the cold sweat running through her body giving a relaxing sensastion.
Her father walked outside with a phone. Karaka sitting up and grabbing it. "Hello?" asked Karaka.
Her father was inside washing dishes when Karaka walked back in with the sword in hand. "I'm going out tonight" said Karaka. "Allright, just don't stay out too late" he said. Karaka nodded.
Karaka looked at her father for a moment, again wondering why he was so laid back. She turned and decided best not to question it.
Interlude:Explaining Karaka's Sword and Human Types
There are two basic groups of people in this world:the normal civilian type, and then those who have powers and abilities beyond them. No one knows exactly how this started, and the process seems to be almost random, though recent research has found a speicific gene in some civilian types carries the potential for mutation for the child. Their is no particular name for either. Most who have these special abilities become Mercenaries or some sort of combat related duty. Karaka's powers relay through the sword, which she carries at almost all times except to school. She trains herself with it daily and althouh the situation has not arrisen yet, she is prepared to use it to thwart any kind of attacker.
It was a family treasure. No one in the family actually used it, but Karaka decided she would use it. Focusing her energy into the sword, she can fire off blue beams that she rfers to as Tazers, since they have the potential, if hit right, to stun someone. Those with the powers typically have strange hair color, though it's possible for normal people to have strange hair color as well, as well as for the Specials to have normal hair color.
1
Karaka Slater sat completely apathetic to her predicament. Only shades of sunlight that managed to slip through the blinders offered any light, vague outlines of other desks and a chalk board visible to her. The only sounds came from outside the room, the occasional walk by discussion, the endless tap tap tapping of a pencil followed by maddening scribbles. Karaka twirled some of her long, green hair in her finger, over and over. She was fairly tall, close to five and a half feet, but her slouching made her seem shorter.
How long are they going to keep me in here? I just want to leave already, is there even a point to this?
The door opened swiftly, the assault of light forcing Karaka to shield her eyes. She couldn't quite see the man except for a blue suit, business like suit. He turned the lights on, the assault on her eyes continued to the point Karaka moaned out loud. She rubbed her eyes vigorously. No fair at all, that hurts! You lock me in this dungeon for who knows how long and then turn on all the lights like that! If I have any eye damage I'm taking suit!
"I assume the symbolism is lost on such a simple mind like yours. The dark is where you're heading miss, and the longer you're there, the harder it is to adjust to the light. I hope you can at least understand why you're here" said the man. Karaka's eyes finally adjusted to the light, taking a good look at the man she knew only as Principal. The contempt showed in her face, almost out of instinct.
"No, I don't sir" said Karaka. She avoided eye contact with him for reasons she didn't know. She looked to the clock that she could now see. Two hours she had spent in there. "So you don't see anything wrong with disrupting a gym class?" asked the principal. "I've seen guys do it all the time, what's the big deal" said Karaka.
I know what the big deal is alright, but you won't say it. You'll sugarcoat it and try to make it sound like something else. Either that or you'll skip it completely. I'm going with the second one, you'll skip it completely.
Silence fell like a drape over the room. The ticking of the clock ticked, ticked, ticked like a timebomb. The Principal tapped his fingers on his leg, Karaka again rolling her finger around in her hair. Both took notice of the other's mannerisms, looking for visible weakness behind it, as though they were a shield for their most uncomfortable plight. Their faces were apathetic, unreadable.
"Karaka, allow me to be blunt. There's no place in a functioning society for girls like you. For society to function, every member must know their place, but you can't quite understand your place" said the principal. Karaka's finger stopped twirling, instead letting the finger slide out with a sense of tense grace.
The clock kept ticking and ticking. Tick tick tick tick.
Karaka stood up with such ferocity the principal risked falling over in his seat. "Why don't you go ahead and tell me what my place is!" snapped Karaka. The principal tidied himself up, unable to mask the sound of his heart beating like a hammer against a door and with all the intensity, thump thump thump thump. The expression on his face seemed to convey a mixed feeling to Karaka, as though he wasn't sure what to think. Karaka's own heart was beating from the adrenaline rush, her arms quivering, her voice choked up not from fear but from an intense realization and satisfaction of her actions.
Silence again. Tick tick tick tick, thump thump thump thump.
"The Girl's Graduation ceremony is at Three o clock this saturday. You have just enough to graduate, I don't see why you're so rebellious now. Is this where you want to spend two hours after school for the next two days? You don't have to come here, all you have to do is follow the rules, or are they too complicated for your simple little mind? You should be grateful of the circumstances of your birth. You have a simple life ahead of you, a simple life for a simple mind. You're a beautiful young lady and a good catch for any boy, I don't see why you would want to complicate things. I want to issue this warning and I want to issue it now miss, that the next time you cause trouble, detention will be more severe. Now please leave here and please see to it we don't meet like this anymore" said the principal.
Karaka stormed outside the room and of the school as well. She was greeted by the empty hallways that had such an ominous feeling to them, almost like a preface to macrabe intentions. Sometimes she wondered if spirits wandered the hall ways. It was an eerie experience. This was in stark constrast to the outside where the sun radiated with a beaming light expressing the joy of being in it's presence.
A simple life for a simple mind
She strolled down the concrete road, smooth a surface as could be imagined that was busy as ever, people walking back and forth across Karaka, but she noticed not a single one, lost in her own world of thoughts.
I'll take it! I'll take your harder detentions! Keep making them harder, I'll keep taking them and the only thing you can do is watch me take them without a problem and realize you lose. You sit there and talk down to me, you sit there and try to tear me down, go ahead, I'll take it all and then some! I'll be gone in two more days and you won't have the satisfaction of breaking me down, like you break down other kids. I'll never cry in front of you, ever. I'm stronger then your other girls, I'm stronger then your boys, I'm stronger then you.
Her school was known for it's rigid discipline system. The principal was the main antagonizer. He would have his boys hit and his girls verbaly hit. Eventually they all either broke down crying or dropped out of school, unable to take it. Karaka kept taking his blows with a quiet dignity, though they were far from painless blows. Every put down was like a needle into the arm, a slight stab of pain for one, but as more and more come in like the stingning of a thousand bees, the pain begins to grow.
Karaka's home wasn't anything special. It was a one story house with brown rugs carpeting the entirety of the floor. Wind chimes hung by the door, the music they create soothing Karaka's mind upon entering every time. They had an average sized television but no Media Players. The curtains were dark green, currently open to allow the streaks of sunlight to stretch across the floor and even to the walls.
Karaka saw dinner already on the small round table, a clean white cloth over it with bright red beads strung on the edges. Her father walked in, placing his own dinner before him. Her father was a sturdy man reaching his fourties. However many commented he looked like he was in his twenties, and many considered him to be the oldest ladies man in town, even though he had no ambitions for another woman. He got a kick out of such a compliment none the less. He adjusted his glasses, taking his seat at the table. "Typical school day huh?" he asked.
"Pretty much" said Karaka sitting down. Her father had not punished or even scolded her for some time, and Karaka took notice of this. It wasn't his usual behaviour, and Karaka sensed something was wrong. However she didn't prod into his affairs, so he wouldn't prod into hers. No, she figured, that wasn't it. Scrape, scrap, scrape, chew chew chew. Their clock was digital, no tick tick ticking. The silence wasn't nearly as tense as with the principal
Buzz.
"I'll get that" said her father. He went over to the door, a middle aged woman standing there. "Sorry to bother you but I came to-
Her father walked away hurriedly, rushing up the stairs like officers going in for an arrest, coming down with a book he handed over to her. "Thank you very much for letting me borrow this" her father said. "Any time" said the woman. She looked past him at Karaka.
"How are you doing?" asked the woman. Karaka turned with a bright cheery face. "I'm fine" she said. It wasn't an act. Karaka looked to all the world as anti social, but in reality, friendly converse would see her mood brighten immidiately. "Your daughter is so nice, I hope mine grows up the same way. You know those terrible twos. Well, I better get back" said the woman. She walked away. Karaka thought about that woman, thought about her going home to her daughter, cuddiling her, putting her to bed, feeding her. She felt a moist sensastion building up in her eyes, wiping her eyes before it could come to fruition. Karaka wasted no time finishing with her dinner.
The cemetary looked even more unpleasant under the radiant sunlight, almost as a metaphorical clash of light and darkness. The shadows of the tombstones were like death itself staring at anyone walking by. The light made the tombstones look almost glittery, at least at the very top of the tombstones. The ground was only half covered by grass and for all the world looked to be as dead as the people buried in it.
The cemetary however was even worse today then the normal, as today is was accompanied by frightening cries from agony that could pierce Hell itself. From beneath the ground something was tearing through. It wasn't even in a grave, but rather inbetween the two. A hand came out, a hand easily tripled the size of any human hand, with grey flesh that looked almost decayed. It stabbed into the ground, trying to pull out the rest of it's body.
This new light, this new world, this new body, and the only thing of old I carry, is hatred. Hatred for you. The road to your end will be paved starting today.
Karaka's backyard wasn't big by any means, surrounded by small wooden posts, it more resembled a tiny piece of farmland with moist and plentiful grass over it. Karaka's backyard, like most, was as exposed as the front yard, which she was fine with. The only material within the fence was a tall, wooden post. Karaka slashed at it with her sword. The sword was about three foot in length with white steel, the tip and sides masterfully crafted and razor sharp, with a golden handle. Karaka swung hard and fast, imagining the principal as she struck the post. She was pouring in sweat, people walking by just shaking their heads at her. After another harsh swing, she finally fell backwards, an ensuing struggle to catch her breath following. She closed her eyes, letting out a sigh of satisfaction, the feeling of the cold sweat running through her body giving a relaxing sensastion.
Her father walked outside with a phone. Karaka sitting up and grabbing it. "Hello?" asked Karaka.
Her father was inside washing dishes when Karaka walked back in with the sword in hand. "I'm going out tonight" said Karaka. "Allright, just don't stay out too late" he said. Karaka nodded.
Karaka looked at her father for a moment, again wondering why he was so laid back. She turned and decided best not to question it.
Interlude:Explaining Karaka's Sword and Human Types
There are two basic groups of people in this world:the normal civilian type, and then those who have powers and abilities beyond them. No one knows exactly how this started, and the process seems to be almost random, though recent research has found a speicific gene in some civilian types carries the potential for mutation for the child. Their is no particular name for either. Most who have these special abilities become Mercenaries or some sort of combat related duty. Karaka's powers relay through the sword, which she carries at almost all times except to school. She trains herself with it daily and althouh the situation has not arrisen yet, she is prepared to use it to thwart any kind of attacker.
It was a family treasure. No one in the family actually used it, but Karaka decided she would use it. Focusing her energy into the sword, she can fire off blue beams that she rfers to as Tazers, since they have the potential, if hit right, to stun someone. Those with the powers typically have strange hair color, though it's possible for normal people to have strange hair color as well, as well as for the Specials to have normal hair color.