Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Core Nova: During Memories ❯ Chapter One:Like Farther. Unlike Stepson ( Chapter 1 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Core Nova

Chapter 1: Like Farther. Unlike Stepson.

Grey...just like my masters' eyes. I felt a soothing warmth lap over my body as memories of my master came back to me. I dont know why, but I know, somehow, I will see him again.

Because he said he would...he promissed...


**************************************** *****************


He hated him, and De'Vaughn had a reason to...

Of all the people to have as parents, Mosrate ( pronounced Moss- Rate ) was the one that hurt De'Vaughn ( pronouced Dev-Von ) the most. Every day, he would beat up the young boy to a pulp, mentaly tourtre him, and somtimes do worse, like cause problems for others, while having the child take the blame, which would normaly get him in jail frequently. And Mosrate, he just did it for fun.
De'Vaughns' Step-Father was a menacing character, standing at 6' 3", dark skinned with a heavily toned body.As a world renowned champian of the G.W.M! (Gone With Mercy!) tournament, and 2nd place wieght lifting champion,it was no surprise that most Cops feared him for his power, which allowed him to get away with any thing, even brutalizing De'Vaughn.
The boy knew that nothing was going to save him, and he fell into a deep depression, which resualted to him also losing a mass amount of social skills, causing him to be a loner at him school, called Blazer High. His depression even caused him to lose faith in realality, and choose to escape life by the two main medias: Gaming, Anime and fighting. DeVaughn was major Playstion player, and heavily into games with deep plot, like Final Fantasy, Devil May Cry, Kingdom Hearts, Metal Gear, ect. He would alwase play with all his heart, placing full attention to the characters as if he was in that persons' shoes. There are even moments where he would lip sync the lines that was said by the person. Hours, and somtimes even days, would go by and he would'nt even stop. De'Vaughn had to make sure of that.
As for fighting, he was more of a silent peaceful person was afriad to fight others, even little youngsters. But if it came to self defence against, say, 10 to 17 S.W.A.T members, De'Vaughn was a monster. Martial Art was his style, which is completly diffrent from Mosrate, who used brute force ,like wrestling, at above average. Few was know to beat the two...

De'Vaughn was a 14 year old african american boy. Black spiky hair gentely coverd his neck and left eye, and sheilded him from the lights of the real world. His body was frail and weak looking outside ,but strong and dexterdious inside, due from all the fights he had with his step farther. His eyes, though looking dark and heartless from its dark green, was truly full of inner kindness. Normaly he would wear dark clothing, most of which Mosrate bought for him on his birthday, or the traditional cosplay clothing that he stole from anime markets, which range from Soras' many clothing designs to Dantes' battle gear. And for some odd reasom, he would alwase carry two extra-long katanas, there blue/ turqouise color showing off its' beauty, even in the dark. On the edge of them, a delicatly enscribed chinese character, called " Sorrow ", would arise at times.

And the word "Sorrow" has a lot of meanings, especaily for the story De'Vaughn has to enter...


Devaugn very much knew his back should’ve been shattered when he was thrown in the 5th TV stand, in a row, by none other than his hateful step-father, Mosrate, holder of the two time GWM championship belt. But he held his ground as his feet landed on the hard rock floor, trying best not to collapse.

“Weak...” The large man didn’t give DeV much time to think, for he charged at him again. The boy dodged to the left, but Mos was to fast, and he grabbed Dev’s neck with his large left hand, soon to spin him around at a fast rotation before launching him into a faraway wall, using more than enough force to attempt to kill the child he hated so much.
But, timing his footing correctly, De’Vaughn landed softly on the wall before touching the floor. Reflexes at MAX, the teen immediately dodged to the right side, just as Mosrate rammed himself right at the wall, inches from Dev. In one desperate attempt, the boy bounced to the nearest wall and leaped off it just as fast, elevating up to his step-father.

" And did I mention..." Mosrate already saw the move, and rebuffed DeV strike easily. “Slow!?!” he yelled, catching Dev’s leg, before using his famous Counter move, “Latch”. It was a quick, simple 3-hit that he uses when he perfectly read his enemy’s moves. With his left hand holding the boy’s leg, he rammed his right elbow into the back of Dev’s head, before giving him a swift kick to his face with his left leg, and driving his body on the floor. This took only a matter of seconds, and within those seconds, the boy was out cold.
Mosrate brushed his hands off coolly, commenting at how De’Vaughn still couldn’t defend himself. After kicking him in the stomach he added, “Next time you’ll learn not to come home late!”
No, the two were not sparring, for it’s impossible to get them to even talk without Mosrate having to attempt to kill Dev, much less training with each other. It’s really because of what happened earlier.:
I was already tired form walking downtown from my home to school, aggravated at how I didn’t get the chance to kill that damn girl behind me, in class, who kept snapping her gum loudly and shaking the desk under me with her feet in boredom, especially when I was in the middle of a fantastic dream. Yeah, I daydream a lot, even in the midst of answering a question. But hey, what can you do when you can only, and ONLY get a B as your lowest grade?
It was a very odd dream, too, that I had. I was in a purple, black trim metal armor, LVL 99 Fallen Angel, holding a MAXED out Auto Healing Sword (Of Justice!...Not!). This dream was obviously about a game I had played earlier, due to the level stats, otherwise I thought I was another worthless, low-rank servant of ol’ Lucius!
Anyway, it was odd, really. I was on a platform. Just sitting there, Indian style. On a multi-color, gothic glass floor. My eyes were closed, concentrating on something, sweating heavily to remember something, as if it was dependant on my life. Suddenly my eyes snapped open, and the word "Remember." flew out of my mouth questionably, possibly asking a question of no reason. And just as I got up to move, a hand touched my shoulder, startling me into consciousness, and out of my dream.

What was I thinking about? Where was I in that draem? How come I was wearing Armor I designed from Final Fantasy? And just WHO WAS IT THAT TOUCHED ME DURING THAT DREAM? When I got a chance, I was going to find out…

My phone rang to a flute-like Japanese tune of the original them song; “Simple and Clean” a record hit of Utada Hikaru’s song for Kingdom Hearts. I answered it glumly, knowing who it was.
“De’Vaughn Brathwaite here-” I tried to say my name completely, but I was cut off by the angry voice of
“Don’t ‘De’Vaughn Brathwaite here' me, you unintelligent bitch!”
Mosrate.
“…...” I refrained from talking, hoping not to anger my step-father any further.
“Where the hell are you!?!? I told you to hurry up and get home so you can clean the basement!”
“I’m sorry…I’m almost home.” I could already tell that I was in for it, and I was already feeling scared, like a trapped bunny about to become food for predators.
“SORRY MY ASS!” He roared over the phone, yelling loud enough so others around me, waiting to cross the street, could hear my step-father and his booming voice. “When you get home, 15 lashes for not coming home, then 5 more for not DOING THE FUCKING BASEment, AND 70 for screwing the teacher for grades!”
“!?!?!” I was speechless. One way because of my embarrassment in front of everyone, and second for the state of confusion I was in. What the hell was he talking about? I never…
“Hell, I know what you kids do these days to get good grades! You end up fuck’n the teacher as a bribe, to up your homework stats!”
“But I-”
“Shut it, dammit! I new you wasn’t smart, but to 'DO' a teacher!?! You’re worthless!” before I could get out a peep, Mosrate hung up.
Worthless. That’s what Mosrate always thought of me. Worthless. A useless item that can’t fight, loses things, lies, steals, was unintelligent, and now can’t get good grades unless he scews around with a teacher! That always pissed me off, but I ignore him when he tells me that. It didn’t matter anyways. I lived alone with him, and it was going to remain like that for four more years. Then I would finally be rid of him…
I walked onward, watching many cars, minivans, and other vehicles go by. First was a green Volvo, then 4X4s, even Porsches and Dump Trucks zoomed by, attempting to reach their destinations. This was really helping me to get less nervous, though I still had butterflies in my stomach. More cars flew by, like a tan, family van, a red street racer, and a stretched hummer limo with black tinted windows and a red interior. I looked at my watch after crossing the 7th or so street, and it was past 5 o’clock and it was getting dark. Mosrate was going to be very pissed.

I was at the front of my house door, and I was already scared, without hope. I quietly opened the door and snuck inside, begging whatever bastard of a god there was that Mosrate was asleep. I peered around the couch and, to my relief, he wasn’t there, which meant he was upstairs, probably on the computer. I was safe for now. I turned around to close the door, a huge smile on my face, already hoping I could sneak my first meal, like a PB and J sandwich. After locking door I immediately whirled around again to run to the kitchen, only to run into a large hand that clasped my throat tightly and lifted me in the air, choking me.
“YOU...STUPID...FUCKER!!” It was Mosrate! He was behind me the whole time! “THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO LET MY GUARD DOWN AND LEAVE YOU UNSCRATCHED!?!?!”
I tried to speak, but his grip was so tight on me, I could only gasp for air, beg, and ask “please” repeatedly. With his free right hand, he slashed my face with the belt he was hiding behind his back.
“That’s one!” he sneered evilly as he tossed me aside. I braced myself as I landed softly on the couch, at least able to take in a full gulp of air. But my moments of life was destroyed when Mosrate whipped me again with his leather belt. he whipped my bare back again, with more force and a quicker pace, counting each hit in glee.
“5!6!7!8!” The slashes came harder, and my bare skin was bleeding. I yelled in agony, tears sliding fro my cheeks as he soon reached the end. Beatings. He alwase did this to me. Beatings was the sick little pleasues he would alwas bestow on me. I couldn’t take anymore.
“12!13!14!” In his last strike, I mustered enough strength to grab the belt and yank it from his hand, and tossed it to the side, letting it land near the door I entered earlier.
“Stop it father!” I screamed at him, toppling him off his guard by miles. No one ever raises there voice at Mosrate. Ever. He was very intimidating to others, and his champion-bound title and body made him even more deadly. But for the first time, his face usually cold with anger, was now wide open beyond shock, beyond belief and…possibly fear?
“Why do you hurt me!?!” I pressed on, standing up from the couch, hoping to get through to my step-father, and try to knock some sense into him. “You always take your anger out on me, when I haven’t done anything to you to piss you off! The food only got stolen when I was hungry, and that’s because you tell me NOT to eat! And I never, EVER, stole anything else from you! NEVER!
“But yet, you still torture me, beating me up for the fun of it, getting me arrested for your own doing, forcing me to do horrible, hard things for others, while you get the glory for it! Why does it have to be me!?! Why must you take your anger out on only me?! Is it jealousy? Hatred, maybe? Or…” My fearful curiosity soon turned to hatred as I soon came to realization, a realization that allowed me to raise my voice with more confidence:
“Or is it that you want to feel power? To know how it is to have someone fear you, be under you or even want to be a slave to you, huh? IS THAT IT? IS THAT WHY!?!” By that time, I was already up, from the couch, in this asshole’s face.
“Well I’m tired of it, and I’m tired of you!” Then I added, with no more fear or regret:
“Bastard!”
That was when Mosrate snapped into a rage that far killed mine. He ran his right knee into my stomach, with enough force to make me double over. The force of his blow as amazingly strong, and I was soon to spit up blood, red as Hell, on my stepfather’s jeans. That mistake only made him angrier, as he then struck me in the face directly. I stumbled a little, stunned by the hit, and regained my balance, though only to lose it again as Mosrate threw his right arm onto me, and my back crashed into the wall behind me. The paint was weak, old, and was peeling, but once my back went medieval cannon on it, the whole thing had a dent, a large one, too.

“YOU...” I felt another rush of pain when Mosrate threw a heavy left hook on my chin, and my body leaned to the right due to the force of the blow.
“CAN’T...” A quick right uppercut knocked many beads of sweat away from me, and my blood falling fast like tears, dropped to the floor, like rain. Soon my body was lifted in the air, and thrown to the ceiling. As I fell down..
“SPEAK TO ME...” Mosrate caught me in the air, but it wasn’t to stop my fall, “LIKE THAT!!!” as he threw my body to the ground with enough strength to puncture a sheet of metal. I thought my body was used to this type of damage, but I knew ,at that moment, somthing in my body cracked. I strained to get on my knees, But even my stepfather wasn’t going to let me do that, as he kicked my face, causing me to roll over, he kicked me again, this time even harder, and I went through the door to the basement, falling down to the floor without even touching the stairs. I remembered this room. That bastard always took me down there to torture or hurt me if I did something bad when I was younger.. I hated this place. Too many spiders and other horrible looking insects always crawled on me when I slept; and I had a hard time sleeping, because of the cold floors, which were stone. More to the point, I didn’t like the place at all. Period. And there was no way in Hell I was going back down there again!
Using the last of my energy, I landed feet first on the bottom of the basement, and held a defensive state as my step-father literally bursted down the stairs at me. I ducked to the side as he threw a right hook, missing me by inches. With Mosrate open, my left leg used the leverage of his body to do a right-footed kick flip. The strike connected to his jaw, my stepfather stepped back, giving me enough time to run in and throw multiple jabs at him. With the pressure of each hit, he stepped back further, and I thought I had a chance to win this small fight, knock him out, and leave this place forever! My hitting tempo increased, and Mosrate was on the wall, and hopefully in pain. As a last move, I spun around to complete a swift kick, mustering all the power I had. My boot reached his face, but what happened next wiped my once eager smile away.
Mosrate caught the strike, and by the looks of it, none of the moves seemed to hurt him, as he showed no, I repeat, NO signs of pain!
My body was caught off balance, since all of my energy went to the kick, and he took notice of it, as I soon was lifted into the air, my Mosrate holding my leg, and slamming my whole body to the ground. Blood must’ve come along the floor, for I felt my face sting from the dirty floor infecting my cuts and gashes. I knew I could move for the moment, but I wanted to wait until the right moment…
“I can’t believe you thought you was gonna beat me, despite the guts ya' HAD a while ago!” He snorted at the word “Had”, cracking his knuckles, as he planned to hit me again.
“But you’re not even good enough to have as a step-son!”
“Like I would want…” I pushed my entire body off the floor, spinning my right leg at Mosrate. “…To be your step-son!” The kick almost hit him, but he caught it again, and this time twisted my leg, almost making it dislocate! My voice almost blared out a scream of pain, but Mosrate lunged his hand into me, lifting me up one more time.
“You’re still nothing…” he spoke, rearing his left arm, which was holding me in the air by the jaw. “No. as a matter of fact…”
“…….”

. ..And here I am, lying on the floor, bloody, bruised, cold and hungry, thinking on how I believed I had a chance to run away from “him”.

“…….”

Fuck “Him”…

“……"

Mosrate&# 8230;

“…….” a centipede tramped by and over my finger. A large, disgusting looking one, too by the likes of it. I would’ve gotten scared and pulled my hand back, but my pathetic ass was to worried about how fast my tears were sliding on my cheek.

“……”

Yes, I admit it, I’m pathetic, just like that guy said. My body should be burned right here where I stand, or lay, in this point of view. I was never good at anything sports-like, especially basketball or soccer. I was never able to do anything right. And even if it did go right, no one notices. But if I end up making one small mistake, or brake one, just ONE, rule, nobody forgives me, and they definetly wont forget. Nothing ever goes my way. My life was always miserable. And of all things, my mother had to die in some Sicko’s hands! She knew I wasn’t going to like living with my step-father and she had to go off and get murdered! It…

“……” Another tear falls off.

It’s a waste just to live. A waste to walk around the school hoping to find someone to love me, someone to look up to me, or even someone to…just to care. Just to care that I was me. That just because I wasn’t “normal”, like everyone else, there was someone who would look past it, and notice all my other characteristics.
It didn’t matter if someone noticed my bad characteristics as well! Even being made fun of -by all those popular jocky boys, no doubt- would be enough to make me happy; at least, I would actually have been noticed and made fun of, versus not being made fun of and not being noticed.

“……….”

I want to be noticed…

“…………”

I want to be liked…

“……….”

And I want to be loved…

A few more minutes passed by as silent tears kissed the floor. Minutes turned to half hours, then hours, until night time covered its ever-dying body, earth. Hopefuly, once tommaro comes, i'll most likly be dead-

“Get up.”

I blinked once, wondering if I was going delusional, if I was not already.

“Stand…the wheels have started to turn.”It was a woman’s voice, firm and commanding but with a gentle, motherly taste.

Wondering what as going on, I slowly pushed myself off the stone floor, but my arms couldn’t hold me up, the pain from today and my previous day’s beating was to much for them and they gave way, my chin meeting the hard cold floor. I was too weak to move. Too weak, Period.
I restrained myself from crying,
“Rise…”
But I took small, sobbing gasps as more tears formed to drop their watery bombs on the already puddled country called “ASTONEFLOOR”. I was weak. I couldn’t even be strong enough to stand up. Maybe it would be fun if I killed myself. At least the title of being worthless would go to someone else…
The voice came again, but this time more forcefully.
“Get up, and be strong..."

"...De’Vaughn.”
!!!!!

How did it know my name!?! With my free right hand, I wiped the rest of my tears off and looked up, curious of where the voice came from…
No one was there…
Well no one in front of me, in that sense. I shook my head in shame, believing that I had some being talking to me. Wow! What a fool I am. That’s almost as bad as a talking sword...
“My sword!” with some ironic burst of energy, I sprang up immediately, whipping around behind me to dash for a nearby desk. I hoped in my mind.
I was right! My two cyan blades were right in front of me, glowing in a dim blue aura. I didn’t give much thought into why something like that would happen. All that was in my mind was just holding them both in my hand. I always felt better, more confident, when I had it in my hand. I don’t know why, but it just did. Like…like I was holding the world!
“…….”

Wait a second...

“…….?”

How did I know it was behind the dresser?

“And why did I pick it up at a time like this?”

There was silence for a second. Not a simple, dumfounded silence, but something more of -
“AAAHHH!” A pain, much worse then multiple needles repeatedly jabbing at a paralyzed but alive body, brought in a raging down on my head. A yell was about to emerge from my busted lip but, remembering that my step-father was probably upstairs, all I did was get on my knees, holding my head, trying to squeeze the brain-busting agony off me, but that only proved worse.
Red. All I was seeing was red, as if for some reason the pain caused blood to gush out of my eyes and cover my visual sense. But I ignored that, for my pain was enough to make me roll on the floor, make voiceless screams, and clench my fist jaggedly. Then that voice came again, this time worried, as if it were warning me of danger. And it did.
“Run! Leave now before The Term picks up the Key to unlock the Core!”
The Term?
Keys?
The Core!?!
What...W-What is she talking about...?
“Please, De’Vaughn! GO! She’s waiting…”
The pain ceased, fading away like a novice RPG player’s hope when it finds out that it’s about to lose to a world champion character. The pain was gone, and so was the stone floor, trashed desks, and vile insects in the basement. The basement was gone too, and I was left on the green, near paper-cut-worthy grass, gasping for air after being relieved of my head’s stress. I was outside, on the lawn of my house, confused as Hell, and questioning the Who, the What, the Where, and the How.
But I was outside. I was OUTSIDE! I had a chance to run, a chance to get away from the bastard I hated so much. A chance to find an actual place to live, to play games, to live the life I always wished to live; without the suffering false love, or Mosrate at that! Some would say that was called “Another Chance,” and that’s what I wanted.
I rose from the ground, still tired but able to walk, and headed for the city with, for the first time in my life, a smile on my face.

A/N: Hey everybody, it's me De'Vaughn!!! I really hope you like this chapter, because what my character's about go through will put Cloud Strife ( property of Final Fantasy VII, from SquareEnix ), Tidus ( property of Final Fantasy X, from SquareEnix ) and Sora ( property of Kingdom Hearts, from SquareEnix ) to SHAME!!!

Chapter 2 will come soon, only if you guys want me to continue!
I got a secerate to tell you all on the next chap!!!
oh...and just to let you know, ya all can flame me, but only if it's nice!
By the way...the setting is in New York, December 18, 2007