Elemental Masters: Awakening

CHAPTER 1-Kyle

BRRRMM, my alarm went rattling off into the night probably waking all the neighbours. This was the third time my alarm had broken this night. The noise reminded me of the horrible memory of losing my parents in that bank robbery incident. I hated thinking about it. As I lay in bed, my feet froze from the shivering cold of the night.  I slammed the off button and reset the alarm to 7:30am, but there was no use anyway, I knew the old alarm clock my dad bought for my 5th birthday had spoiled after 11 years in commission. I switched on my nightlight and looked at the window. A full moon shone its rays of brightness through the window lightening the room but still gloom hung the room. It was the night of my parent’s death, I guess that’s was why it was on my mind. The house still lingered with the scent of death. I went to the main lights’ switch and flicked it on. I checked my phone to see the correct time, 3am. I knew the best thing for me was to go back to slept, anymore sleepless nights could be fatal but a monster started clawing at my inside, the monster named hunger. I could have ignored it and maybe my life would have stayed decently normal, but then again if I didn’t answer to the monster I might have never unlocked my true potential.

Anyway, I walked on downstairs; each step making an eerie, creaky sound from the force of my bare feet colliding with the icy floor. I made my way to the kitchen and had to decide on what food to devour. In the end I choose cereal (plain but effective). As I picked up the corn flakes box, I could swear that I saw a black-figure run through my garden. The kitchen window connected the outside world to my house.                                                                        
‘What was that,’ I muttered to myself.
It was probably just a fox or something similar so I had no reason to panic, but then again I knew you could never be too careful. I switched on the garden lights only to see the worst possible thing ever standing in the middle of my backyard, a baby panther, the size of a pussycat. Its pure blue eyes seemed to produce their own light like two blue flames in the pitch-black darkness of the night. So when my garden lights finally went out after its twenty seconds count, I could still see its two eyes glimmering in the dark, just standing out as bright blue splotches glowing on a dark canvas.  Okay maybe it’s not the worst thing ever, one might have even said the beauty of the panther’s eyes was breath-taking, but in the moment, I only saw a panther with deadly ice-cold eyes ready to kill me, and to be frank it was pretty terrifying. It was just prancing around my garden as if it owned the place. I knew I had to act quickly; I couldn’t just leave it there, what would happen in the morning when I needed to leave the house. I should just presume it won’t hurt me and let me past.
“Good morning sir,” it would say, “how was your night?” That would be if panthers could talk.
No, I had to do something; I just had no idea what. My mind went racing through different options, from calling animal control, to stoning it to death myself, though I knew I couldn’t do the latter, I loved animals too much. I don’t remember from what age it started, I just always remember my love for wildlife. In fact, sometimes it felt like when it talked to animals (yes, I talk to animals, there’s nothing wrong in that) and even plants, I felt like that they would talk back to me. Crazy right, the same thought I always have. I glanced over at the panther, it still frolicked about, now seemingly waiting for something or someone (to be truthful, I didn’t think panthers had enough patience to wait around for someone or something; heck, why would I even need to give any thought to a panther’s patience). Then as if on cue, to add to my troubles, it started snowing. Not the kind of ‘‘yay let’s go have a snowball fight and make cute snowmen’’ but the type of ‘‘oh my God David get the children inside or they’ll freeze in the blizzard” snow. The cold droplets of doom hurtled themselves onto the poor baby panther. The panther began to shiver in the sub-zero weather of the snowstorm. I knew if I didn’t do anything I would have a dead panther and an angry panthy mother to deal with in the morning. Almost unconscious of my actions I grabbed a steaming towel from my towel heater (hey, don’t judge, I’m sophisticated) and rushed into the bitter cold. I could hardly see anything through the thick blizzard, how was I supposed to save a panther cub in this kind of weather. I don’t know what exactly happened but it must have been some kind of natural miracle. The branches from the trees that lined the garden began to come together forming an archway extending towards the sickly-looking panther. Branches also coalesced around the mini panther shielding it from the harsh weather. I had no idea what was going on but I didn’t question anything. Instead I took the opportunity to quickly run to get the panther and then dash back to my house with it safely placed gently in my warm toilet. Once inside, the branches of the trees shifted back to their original positions. That made me even more agitated than before, which I thought to be physically impossible but I was obviously wrong (hey, there’s a first for everything). It then struck me that there was a baby panther in my house sitting right in front of me. AN ALIVE BABY PANTHER IN MY HOUSE. What the hell had I done? Commit suicide, that was what I had just done.                                                                     
“Hey thanks for saving me back there, your my hero,” said a random voice, before I could scold myself even more for my imprudent actions.