Memory Trace Start_
_memorytrace_save_t73092r45u95_ck_I could only imagine how many kids were sleeping behind me, but Nicholas and I were wide awake. We had to be for our class's sake. We weren't sitting in just any lecture. Of all days for him to have done that to us he chose that day...?
February 21st, 2017. My birthday. My 16th birthday to be precise and there was only one last lecture between me and going home and playing video games. Yup! That's how I've spent every birthday since I was 12. My life had never been normal ever since I moved to a foreign country when I was 4 but then again 4 year olds aren't very welcoming to change. 12 years later, however,and things had been gradually changing for the better, although even at the time, I knew that that wasn't going to last long. It was just a ticking time bomb... And I definitely jinxed myself...
But enough about my past.
It was 35 minutes into class. Math class. I had to focus on what was in front of me and that, my friend, was none other than the most time-honoured man in the universe, Mr. Spirit.
Oh boy! You wouldn't believe how old school he can be at times. Even more than the Amish! He lives alone in a house that's smaller than my garage, without any electrical power. Not that I study this guy or anything but he kind of tells us about that kind of weird stuff in class. See.... I'm sitting in class 5B, and Mr. Spirit is my math teacher, but he prefers spending some of his lessons lecturing us about World War 2 and how he had survived it by eating nothing but onions.
Now I don't know much about history but I'm pretty sure he hadn't been born when the war had ended. I mean the guy looks like he's in his late 50s. He's very tall and lean with a very stiff soldier-like posture. He has a long face, always serious, never smiling. Thinking back to it, the wrinkles in his forehead looked as if they were canyons dug by rivers of sweat. Greyish-black curly clouds hovered over those canyons, casually swaying in the breeze. Below the canyons and past the mountain with two caves lay a field of stubby stumps like chopped trees. And that day's lesson was about how the Nazis burned down those trees.
Nicholas and I were playing along with the whole war thing. Our mission's objective was the big red cross to the right. Our weapons of choice? Cannons! We were loading our cannons with very devastating payloads. Of course my cannon was made out of a hollowed-out pen casing and my cannon ball, a wad of saliva covered paper. Nick's was the real thing however. I'm pretty sure you could guess by now. We were trying to fire spit balls at the 'close button' of the interactive whiteboard and hopefully, with how old school Mr.Spirit is he wouldn't know how to re-open the page he is writing on and forget that raptor riding Nazis with flamethrowers ever existed. Yeah...
Nick gestured a silent countdown indicating the end of the raptor Nazis' reign. 3...2...1...Ok. Pause the narration.
I should probably explain.
Nick and I aren't normally trouble makers, but in Mr. Spirit's class the Laws of Physics don't apply. Nicholas is average at school but he runs more on a special type of fuel called "never-ending luck" rather than actually trying...( nope, I'm totally not mad or anything). At first glance you would think he's one of the popular kids but you'd be surprised he's in fact the opposite. Nicholas is American but he lives on a tiny island known as Malta which we both call home. From top to bottom he greatly resembles a Golden Retriever. Long golden hair shower his head spiralling at the fringes like a hurricane. Below the edges of the storm lies two swirling brownish green whirlpools teeming with life like something's swimming and kicking up sediment. His golden skin radiates warmth and positivity. Nick in general radiates positivity, never without a smile on his face. Like the retriever within him he's always filled to the brim with energy and yet he's lazy enough to hibernate like a grizzly bear. The best friend I could ask for.As for me, I come from the other superpower. And no it's not Russia... Like I said before, you can call me Tony. Well my given name is 雷. It means thunder. See we're from planet Earth, Intergalactically known as Milky Way024S178P3. A, hopefully still blue planet with vast oceans and massive continents. Nick and I are as different as China and the USA. We're the same height but that's where the similarities end. Unlike the country boy that is Nick, I'm more suited to large Cities and instead of being golden, my spikey hair is jet black styled into emo fringe with eyes a colour to match and pale skin. Finally, rather than of goofing off in class, I actually pay attention, well at least in the subjects I like.
Oh and in case you haven't noticed, these are those note by the way, broadcasted by me from inside a supermassive black hole. I'll try not to show too much discomfort but its hard not to with my circumstances...
Well then. Resume Narration please.
The Chinese and American representatives were on the front line of the war against the raptor Nazis.
3...2...1...
The Wad of spit flew majestically through the air like a game winning soccer ball.
Almost.... Almost...
Suddenly an obstacle appeared!!! For some inexplicable reason Mr. Spirit decided to launch himself in front of the spit ball like a star goalie, gracefully catching it with his mouth! The spit ball seemed to have disappeared down the man's throat without him noticing.
The class fell silent but Mr. Spirit was unfazed, casually moving on with his lecture about the raptor nazis. Nick and I looked at each other horrified as we both came to the same conclusion; that Mr. Spirit had to be infected with some kind of dog virus, that forced his body to fetch any incoming projectiles with his mouth.
"Diiiiiiinnnggggg"
The School Bell shocked me out of my imagination.
"Class dismissed boys! Good Nazi hunting!"
I was about to grab my things and leave when Mr. Spirit said, "Tony, can I have a word with you?"
"Oh, um, of-f-fcourse S-s-sir" I spoke with a voice not at all indicating that I feared for my life.
Nick naturally waited by my side but even after all the other students left, Mr. Spirit, like a cat waiting to pounce on its prey, remained motionless. I told Nick to go and catch his school bus predicting that this might take a while. Even after I was sure Nick was gone Mr. Spirit was still no more that a mannequin. This was getting weird, very weird.
It reminded me of last week's incident where a hot burning, pulsating sensation radiated from my chest in the middle of the night. Not so much as an internal pain like a heart attack but rather like someone was pressing a hot steam iron to my skin. When I tore off my shirt I saw a ring made up of 9 red circles of skin. At least I think I counted 9 patches. It looked like patches of newly burnt skin, undoubtedly there but when I looked in the mirror the next morning...There was nothing. Nothing besides the memory... Was it all a dream? Was I slowly losing it?
YOU ARE READING
9th Generation; The Celestial Knight Part 1
Ciencia FicciónGuardians are things of legend....no....more than that. Beings with near infinite power chosen by the manifestation of the Universe itself to dictate how all things function. Gods in the most literal sense. They're mostly unheard of to most species...