Game on (The Game #1)

Chapter 1 ...A Friend

Hello. You probable do not know me, so why don’t I introduce myself?

 

   My name is Connor and I have no surname. Not because I am an orphan who doesn’t know his parents or because I have amnesia, not even because I was brainwashed. It is because I was born to the ‘smallest’ clan ever, or so they say.  According to my sister, five hundred years ago, there used to be a strong, powerful, merciless clan but for some reason it disappeared, leaving only twenty people who moved into a single house next to a beautiful forest.

    The problem is, now there are only ten of us, as others got into some sort of mysterious accident which is still haunting our family. It is safe to say that my parents are the most trustworthy, caring and nature-loving people in this town since they will risk anything, just to make sure that the forest we live in, shall stay unharmed and as beautiful as it is now. My older brother Detal, who recently turned 42, is clearly the coldest person ever born to mother Earth while my 39 year old baby brother named Marc is the sweetest person ever born as he will always save the one in danger even with his… um… let’s say… condition.

    Unfortunately, he still doesn’t know about it.

    Next, are my dear younger twin sisters: Yuzie and Luzie. Despite their young age the girls were way to intelligent, even scoring an IQ of 290, something which was never thought to be impossible.  That thought started the ‘psycho epidemic’ at school. Both of them were bullied and called names that even I don’t know about, or even if I do know them, I can’t say them out loud due to shame. All the bulling and humiliation they went through forced them to drop out of school at thirteen and start learning from Uncle Sam.

      My clan’s appearance is very usual and natural. All of us have dark brown hair and greenish blue eyes. Another mystery in my family is that I am different from everybody else.  First of all I have dark black-blue hair, second I have glowing emerald eyes and third, I am only 1.76 cm which is considered EXTREMELY short in my family.

    But that is not what I want to talk about. I want to talk about something that happened to me a good twenty years ago.

   It was the day before my twentieth birthday. The day I would finally be called an adult. Everything was supposed to be normally boring, but little did I know my life was bound to change forever.

    You see, I was taking a short walk outside with my dog, right next to Crestville, a place where the fishers live, when suddenly I saw a hooded man walking up to Mr. Jackson, the old fisherman and grabbed him by the neck. I wanted to do something or at least scream for help, but I couldn’t. I felt as if I was paralyzed, as if my brain stopped functioning.  I remember the feeling of fear taking over my body when the black hooded figure simply took out a golden knife with diamond crystals and slashed Mr. Jackson right across the face, the chest and arm. The moment I was about to give out a scream, the hooded figure realized that I was there, observing the tragic and gruesome scenery and began running away as fast as he could until he disappeared in the left corner of the ‘gorgeous’ village. I felt fear leave my soul but instead I felt panic for the man. I quickly snapped back to my senses and run to the poor, bleeding man. When I was closer to him I saw a moon shaped medallion just simply lying down on the streets, as if it was a little kitten sleeping in a trashcan. ‘The man comes first,’ I thought.

 “M’boy,” the old fisherman gasped as I finally reached him, “ ‘eave whi’e u’ an, deport t’ another place. Get th’amulet und g’ away! Pl’ease!”

    “Help!” I screamed, ignoring his words, as I kneeled next to his now fallen body, “Please help! Someone! Anyone! Where is everyone when you need them?” I whispered in a hoarse tone the last part.

      My eyes began to sting and burn as if someone spilled pepper chili sauce on them, ‘Is this grief? Or… maybe it is pity,’ I thought sadly. I peered at the man’s slow chest movements going up and down, right until the moment the rise and falling stopped, showing me that the man has left the world. I stood up unwillingly, wiped my eyes and went to do the man’s dying wish. I was going to pick up the amulet and leave as the scenery in front of me already proved to me about how dangerous this amulet truly was. I mean, why would a man be killed just for a stupid necklace that the girls usually wear because they get them from their boyfriends.

     Then anger rushed through my veins. How dared the figure take Mr. Jackson away from me! Mr. Jackson would always visit me when I was alone, he would always bring me the rarest pieces of candy and fish but most importantly he was the first ever person to stand up for me when I was a victim of injustice! (Wait no, scratch that out. He was the second person. The first one was McReaper!) When looking back at his twisted and bloodied corpse I felt the need to uncover this mystery once and for all. Not just run away like any coward would!

     I started making my way to where I first saw the moon shaped amulet, but then I noticed one immensely huge problem.

    I…

   Was…

   Shell-shocked…

   To the point where I couldn’t even blink!

   Why?

   Because the amulet was missing and on its place lay a half burned half soaked note which clearly stated the one phrase I loathed the most. I took the note and re-read it all over again.

    I just stood there.

    Reading and re-reading.

 

 

 

 

 

Dear, beloved Connor,

 

Winners Keepers...

Losers Snoozers...

Am I not right?

Who am I?

It’s a secret.

 

From: A friend