The Lost Land of Ouranos-Nisi
Dear Reader:
Here is chapter 2, which is hopefully a vast improvement over chapter 1. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!
This Story is about the self-discovery of a 13 year old boy on multiple levels. In this chapter, Chris learns a good deal more about himself and his new found power. He also confronts his own inner feelings about Timmy, for better or worse.
Disclaimer:
If you offended by relationships between teenage boys, or between a man and a teenage boy, please hit the `back' button on your browser and trouble yourself no further. This chapter contains a scene of a boy masterbating, so if that kind of material offends you, please leave now. I suppose I should also add that if you are a minor, or in the company of a minor, you should not be reading this. I'll leave that to your better judgment.
This story has been copyrighted under the pseudonym Taylin. A copy has been placed in the Nifty archives for your enjoyment. This story cannot be used to derive monetary gain, nor placed in archives that require payment for access, or printed and distributed in any form that requires payment either directly or indirectly.
This story is fictional, and is solely a product of my imagination. Any similarities to real individuals, living or dead are entirely accidental.
Please send any comments, suggestions, or constructive criticism to: taylin_asterifos@yahoo.com. Any input at all would mean a great deal to me.
Ok, on with the story:
Chapter 2 -- A Strange Visitor
Ring* Ring* Ring*, the telephone sounded in the dimly lit office. "This is Kernel Davidson." The kernel seemed agitated by the disturbance of the silence.
"Kernel, I'm sorry to disturb you at this hour, but you told me to call you immediately whenever the DFDS detected a large fos disturbance." The voice on the other end sounded edgy.
"Where is it this time Rodger? Chicago again? There seems to be a lot of activity in that area as of late. We have been able to pull at least a dozen gifos out of downtown alone." The Kernel stated matter-of-factly.
"No Kernel, this one originated somewhere near Colorado Springs. The Dynami- Fos Detection System picked up a large spike about 20 miles west of Colorado Springs. Sir, the DFDS reads a 100 kilo-jewel sustained pattern that lasted 15 minutes with a 20 mega-jewel spike right in the middle. Sir, don't you think whatever caused that disturbance is a threat? There might be a lot of activity in Chicago, but never signals that high." Rodger sounded on the verge of panic. "Kernel, what should we do? What if it's a magus? If there is a magus running around on the loose, we have to put a stop to it!"
"Relax Rodger, If it was a magus, our gifos in the area would have sensed something. I just got a report in from that area a few hours ago. They report nothing unusual." Taking out his lighter, Kernel Davidson lit a cigarette. Sucking on it lightly, he listened to Rodger rattle on.
"Sir, the DFDS is new technology, maybe it can detect things that our gifos can't. Sir, I think we should send out a seeker. We can't afford to take even the smallest chance here, sir." Rodger said pleadingly through the phone.
If it wasn't one thing, it was another with Rodger. He was thorough though, the Kernel had to give him that. "Fine, send out a seeker. But remember Rodger, we don't have very many our disposal, not after the last muck up we had last year. Tell your man to be extra careful, and call in the gifos for backup immediately if things get dicey. Our seekers are some of the last magus among the gifos we have, and don't even mention the fotiafos magus. They can't be used as seekers anyways, they are way too volatile. If only aerasfos and nerofos weren't so rare... especially the aerasfos, they would make perfect seekers. God, now you have me rattling on Rodger, just get it taken care of! Goodnight." Kernel Davidson slammed the phone down on the receiver. He knew he shouldn't let Rodgers paranoia bother him, especially since in most cases, it was well founded.
The Kernel took another long drawl from his cigarette and casually tapped the burn off into the ash tray. Gifos seemed to be all they were finding nowadays. Yea, there were some fotiafos here and there, but the ones they did find were well worth the search. He had seen a fotiafos burn the face off one of his men with his bear hands! A fotiafos magus though? They were like walking BOMBS! They had to be leashed. If there is a loose fotiafos magus running around, then they need to find him (or her!) fast. The Kernel had even heard rumors that the air force was considering using fotiafos magus as tactical weapons, whenever the president gave the ok.
"That will never happen!" The Kernel thought to himself. Congress would never pass that; all the fos had to be kept top secret, and nowhere near the eye of the general public. Mass hysteria would ensue if the fos were ever discovered. "How would they expect me to do my job then?" Kernel Davidson wondered. He had seekers out all over the country looking for fos. Hell, he even had operatives searching other countries. The less fos THEY had, the less threat they were to national security.
Cigarette burnt down; the Kernel tossed the butt into the tray. The Kernel wasn't really worried about the other countries much. No other countries could stand against the US Military. The US had superior technology, and they had more fos than any two countries combined.
The real threat was Ouronos.
With a loud yawn, Chris awoke into a room already brightly lit with the rising sun. Chris looked around his room, filled with pictures of his favorite anime, pictures of dragons and wizards, and even various drawings he had done. Chris smiled to himself; mom thought he was a great artist. At least someone thought he was good at something, even if it was his mom. Propping himself onto his elbows, Chris looked out his window. The sun had just peeked over the eastern horizon, cresting the hills surrounding Woodland Park, bathing the entire area in its warm glow. Chris sat up and stretched, letting his sheets fall forwards. The sun hit his bare skin, warming his face and chest, giving him the energy he needed to `pop' out of bed and run over to his dresser to put on a pair of boxers. Chris always slept in the nude, and wouldn't even bother putting boxers on if his mother wasn't such a stickler for modesty. Timmy was the same way; he wouldn't take down his shorts in front of a mouse. What Chris wouldn't give to see Timmy naked just once!
Looking down, Chris realized he was hard again. Crap, I'm going to have to take care of this before I go downstairs. Morning wood can be such a problem sometimes! Chris rushed over to the bathroom down the hall and quickly closed the bathroom door behind him. Chris could hear mom downstairs already preparing breakfast.
"Is that you honey? I'm making pancakes, ok?" Mom shouted from downstairs in the kitchen. More pots and pans started banging around as Chris's mom searched for the cook wear needed to cook breakfast.
"Yea mom, that sounds GREAT! I'll be right down!" Chris yelled down at his mother. Chris needed to take care of his problem fast.
Chris quickly walked over to the toilet and jerked down his boxers, letting his cute little 2.5" toy pop out. Chris quickly spit in his left hand and grabbed onto his little circumcised tool. Chris began to stroke really fast, using his thumb and two fingers to rub against his tiny shaft. Picturing in his mind as best he could what Timmy would look like naked; it didn't take long until "OOOHHhhhh.....". Chris's body went rigid as his orgasm took him by the teeth. Chris's back arched, and his little cocklet pulsed in the air, trying to release juice that it just didn't have. Chris slowly came off his high, and sat his 4'3" frame down on the toilet, still breathing hard, and waited for his body to cool down so he could pee. I bet Timmy can make sperms. I wish I could. Chris could remember an internet site saying that some boys could make sperms when they were 11, and most could by the time they were 13. I wonder how far off I really am? Finally, a warm stream came out of Chris's now deflated 1" penis, and hit the side of the bowl.
Standing up and pulling his boxers back on, Chris went over to wash his hands and face in the sink. Chris looked at his reflection. I'm still a little boy! Will I ever grow up? His reflection looked back with his cute round face, wispy white hair, and skinny body. Wait a second, something's not right here. Chris ran his fingers through his hair, raised it up, and pulled at it. It was COMPLETELY white now. Not even a trace of blond left. Chris grabbed a comb and ran it through his hear, desperately searching for a trace of blond.
Knock*, Knock*, Knock*, "Chris, are you ok honey? You've been in there for a long time. The pancakes are ready, sweety." Mom said with a concerned tone.
"I'm ok; my hair was just really messed up this mourning, that's all." Chris was getting really worried now. What would mom think when she saw his white hair. It was just a light blond yesterday. Maybe it was because of what happened yesterday on Soldier Mountain, but his hair hadn't changed much then, he would have remembered, or at the very least, mom would have said something. Well, she's going to find out now, I can't cover this up. Chris wished he had hair die right then!
"Ok honey, come down and have some pancakes when you're ready." Chris waited until he could hear his mom reach the bottom of the stairs. Slowly, Chris opened the bathroom door, then he rushed back to his room and threw on a pair of black shorts, and his faveriote black tee-shirt, the one with Shinji on it (from his favorite anime series, Evangelion).
Chris ran back through the hall and down the stairs. He slowed as he reached the kitchen. Mom didn't like it when he ran in the kitchen. Chris walked over to the table, and sat himself where mom had put his pancakes. Mom was finishing up some pancakes for herself, using a spatula to scoop them out onto her plate. She grabbed the plate and placed it on the table.
"What would you like to drink, hon?" Mom asked while opening the fridge.
"Just some OJ is ok." Chris said with a shrug.
Mom pulled out the OJ and closed the fridge. She put the jug on the table and went to grab some glasses. "So how you feeling this morning honey? What do have up your sleeve?" Mom came back to the table and poured Chris some OJ, and handed him the glass.
"I dunno, I was thinking of going over to Timmy's, if he doesn't have any other plans. Is that ok mom?" Chris took the glass and drank the whole contents down with a few great big swallows. So far, she hadn't even NOTICED his hair was completely white. Chris picked up his fork and dived heartily into his pancakes.
"Sure, I don't mind as long as Timmy's father says its ok." Mom had sat down and was attacking the pancakes with almost as much gusto as Chris. "You haven't been going to Timmy's as much as you used to, is there something wrong?" Even though mom was looking directly at Chris, she still gave no sign his white hair bothered her.
Chris sighed with some relief. "No mom, I guess I've just had a lot on my mind." Like the fact that Timmy shrugs me off every time I try to get closer to him. Chris might have been pained by Timmy's constant rejections, but he wasn't going to let that keep him down. He might be small of stature, but he was big of heart, and decided to put Timmy's comfort above his own. If that meant no cuddling, then he would just have to live without it. "I'm going today though, and hopefully we'll have a fun time!" Chris stated with determination.
"I'm sure you will sweetie. Well I have to go to the Springs today for a hair appointment, and to pick up a couple things in the mall. Why don't you go ahead and call Timmy and see if it's ok for you to go over there?" Mom said, finishing her OJ, then stood up and put her dishes in the sink. "Can you take care of the dishes before you go hon? I'm going up stairs to get ready."
"Sure mom, no problem." Mom left Chris to the dishes, and Chris took his own dishes to the sink, and started washing up.
Done with that, Chris walked out to the living room and picked up the phone. Chris plopped down on the couch and dialed Timmy's house.
Ring*, Ring*, Ring*, "Hello?" A baritone voice answered.
"Hi, is Timmy there?" I asked, knowing it was Timmy's father, Mr. Dennings.
"Sure, is this Chris?"
"Yup, you guessed it! I was just wondering if it's ok to come over today?"
"Sure Chris, you are more than welcome over here. I'm not planning on going anywhere today. I was just going to do some touch-up work on the fence out back. Say, you wouldn't mind lending a helping hand, would you Chris?" Timmy's dad had that sarcastic tone to it, and Chris knew he was just giving him a hard time.
"Aww, do I have to? I just wanna play with Timmy!" Chris said, whining into the phone.
"Hahaha, I'm just kidding Chris, come on over and you two can play. Do you want to talk to Timmy?"
"Sure, put him on." I heard Timmy's dad call out for Timmy, and a few seconds later, Timmy was on the line.
"Hi Chris, Dad says you want to come over. I'm cool with it. Haven't seen you for a while bro!" Timmy's voice sounded deeper, but Chris didn't think Timmy's voice could change that much in just the few weeks they've been on summer break.
"Yea, I'll be over soon, ok?"
"No prob, bro. See ya soon." Timmy said, hanging up the phone.
Chris jumped off the couch, hung up the phone, and raced up the stairs to his bedroom. What should I take? Well, he has all the video games, and he has board games too. Maybe I'll take over some anime to show him. Although Chris knew Timmy didn't like to read much or watch anime, we always brought some over, just in case he changed his mind.
Chris packed up his little backpack and ran back down the stairs, shouting to mother. "I'm off to Timmy's, see you tonight mom!"
"Ok hon, be careful!" Mom shouted through the door.
Chris ran across the living room and opened the door leading out to the garage. Tweedy, the yellow SUV he had named when he was 4, was sitting inside, the only car they owned now, Chris lamented. Chris hopped on his bike, and took off down the road to Timmy's. Timmy didn't live far, only 3 blocks down on Cherry Street, and on the other side. Chris zoomed down Cherry Street, shirt and shorts flapping madly as he went. Strangely, Chris thought he was going roughly the same speed he had ran yesterday on the trail, but that can't be right? Can it?
Chris pulled into Timmy's driveway, and saw Timmy's dad working on the truck. Timmy's dad is really good at a lot of things, Chris thought. Mr. Dennings pulled out from underneath the truck.
"Hi there Chris, how you been?" He pulled out just long enough to give a big wave, then pulled right back under the truck, reaching for a ratchet.
"I'm fine Mr. Dennings, thank you for letting me come over." Chris shouted down beneath the truck.
"The trucks not running Chris, you don't need to yell." Timmy's father said, ratcheting in a bolt.
"Sorry about that sir." Chris turned towards the house when he heard Timmy come out.
"Hi there Chris, long time no see bro!" Timmy said in a tenor that would sink into a base in the not-to-distant future. Timmy came over and gave Chris a firm pat on the shoulder.
"You got taller again, no fair!" Chris whined, giving Timmy a nasty look.
"Hey, you'll spurt up pretty soon I'll bet Chrissie!" Timmy stated jokingly.
"Not as much as you spurt, I bet!" Chris said with a big grin on his face.
"Hey, cut that out, you smart ass! Not my fault that my candy machine works and yours doesn't, hehehe." With that, Chris gave Timmy a good smack on the arm, but Timmy shot right back with a punch that landed Chris right on the front lawn. "Woops, sorry about that little dude, I didn't mean to hurt ya." Tim said consolingly, and came over with an outstretched hand. "Truce?"
"Truce!" Chris moaned, letting Timmy help him up.
Timmy took a step back for another good look at Chris. Suddenly, Timmy's eyes went wide, and a puzzled expression stretched across his face. "Chris, what happened to your hair? Did you bleach it or something?"
Chris didn't know what to do. Should he tell Timmy the truth, or just go along with the bleach story? Chris kinda wanted to tell Timmy about yesterday, and that was part of the reason he came over. He needed to tell someone, just so he could check to make sure he wasn't going crazy. He couldn't tell mom, he didn't want her to worry about him any more than she did already. Timmy was the only other person he could trust with something like this. Chris decided to take the risk.
"Well... I kinda woke up this morning, and when I looked in the mirror, it was like this. I was totally freaked out too. That's kinda one of the reasons I came over. And there is something else I gotta show you too." Chris said with a very scared and shaky voice.
"Dude, you woke up with white hair? That's WICKED! What else do you have to show me?" Chris was taken aback with Timmy's exuberance, expecting Timmy to call him a freak.
"Well, it would probably be best for me to show you inside." Timmy nodded, and led Chris inside. Timmy's house was a ranch-style home, and only had one floor, and the basement, which was where Timmy's room was. The house was big enough though, since only Timmy and his dad lived there. Timmy's parents divorced when Timmy was 5, and Timmy's dad moved up here, and Timmy's mom stayed down in Colorado Springs. Timmy usually visited his mom one weekend a month, sometimes two. He was home this weekend, though, and Chris was grateful.
Chris followed Timmy down the stairs, and Timmy opened the door at the bottom. The whole downstairs belonged to Timmy, which was very cool. He had his own bathroom, and there was a small living room area that had a TV and all the game consoles hooked up to it. The bedroom was on the left wall, with the bathroom back around under the stairs. Timmy had pictures hanging on the wall too, but Timmy liked sports, not fantasy. Timmy went over to sit on the couch, but Chris put down his backpack and stayed standing.
"So, what do you want to show me, and you better not pull out your little thing!" Timmy laughed out loud.
"No, it's not that." Chris's expression grew very serious. "Yesterday, I went climbing up Soldier mountain alone, and I decided to try climbing straight up the face."
"Dude, you're kidding. The face of Soldier Mountain is like a cliff. You can't climb up that. You would at least need rope, and a grappling hook or something." Timmy said, not looking too worried. "You at least took rope with you right? And maybe that powder stuff?"
"No, I decided to just try to wing it...." Chris said, getting less confident about telling the rest to Timmy.
"WING IT? Dude, you're lucky you didn't wing it straight off the side! You're crazy. Well, seeing that your still here, you must have lived." Timmy said, still making a joke out of it. "So, what happened?"
"Well... I kinda fell..." Chris said in his quietist little boy voice.
"YOU WHAT?!?! Well, it must not have been from too far up, you don't look like your limping to me!" Timmy got up and patted me on the shoulder. "Well, at least your not hurt."
Chris hunched over with Timmy's hand. "No Timmy, I fell from 200 feet." Chris barely managed to squeak out.
"Say what?" And Timmy leaned over, putting his ear closer to Chris's mouth.
"I... I fell... 200 feet..." Timmy stood back and gave Chris a funny look.
"You know, if I didn't you know better, I would say you are trying to pull one over on me. You're beginning to creep me out here." Timmy said with a weirded out look on his face.
"Well, I kindof floated down... That's what I wanted to show you. I swear I'm not making this up. I somehow managed to stop myself before I hit the bottom. I don't know how I did it myself, I just concentrated really hard. Here, I'll show you!" Chris closed his eyes and concentrated hard. He tried to focus in on himself, and find that fire that he had felt before in the bottom of his stomach. Several minutes passed, but nothing happened.
"Dude Chris, what are you doing? It looks like you're constipated!" But Chris ignored Timmy's voice and kept concentrating.
Several more minutes passed, but Chris wasn't paying attention to the passage of time, Light as a feather, light as a feather, lift my feet off the ground. LIGHT AS A FEATHERRRR! Chris was concentrating really hard, but nothing happened. I'm not gunna give up, I'm not! Tears began to stream down Chris's cheek, and more time went by.
"Chris, man, its ok. You have been trying for 30 minutes now. Common, don't worry about it, I believe you dude, you flew ok?" If Chris had been looking, he would have seen one of the most caring expressions Timmy's face had ever bothered to show. Timmy moved to comfort Chris, but Chris threw his hand off his shoulder, and went back to concentrating again.
Light as a feather, light as a feather, lift my feet off the ground. Light as a feather, light as a feather, lift my feet off the ground. Light as a feather, light as a feather, lift my feet off the ground. Light as a feather, light as a feather, lift my feet off the ground. "LIGHT AS A FEATHER, LIFT MY FEET OFF THE GROUND!!" Chris shouted with all his pent up anger and frustration. And then something happened, slower this time, Chris's eyes started glowing. At first the glow was very feint, but then they got brighter, eventually glowing a bright blue. Chris looked around. The walls were glowing a feint orange-red, but he also noticed the very air was glowing too. The air was glowing a very feint light-blue, Light as a feather, Chris thought again. What does that glow mean? Chris tried concentrating on the feint light-blue glow, he tried to reach out and touch it, tried to feel it, and suddenly it flared up at him. It flared through him. Somehow, Chris was pulling the light-blue light into himself.
He didn't know what was happening, but he suddenly felt more clear-headed than he ever had before. The light continued flowing into him, and he was able to feel everything around him like he never felt before. He could see every minute detail of the room, and hear every creek, and every squeak. He could also hear Timmy, everything about Timmy. He could hear Timmy's heart beat, and the blood pass through his veins. Chris also swore he could hear the sweat come out of Timmy's pours.
Scenes heightened beyond anything he had ever felt before, Chris tried to make himself float again, and he took off soo fast that he almost hit the ceiling. It hardly took any effort at all. WOOSH!
"HOLY SHIT DUDE!" Timmy practically jumped out of his skin, and shouted up at me. "YOU REALLY CAN FLY!" Timmy scratched at his eyes, and then tried to ball them out. When he looked back up, he laughed. "This is TOTALLY wicked! Chris, your eyes are glowing too! This is so fucking trippy!" Timmy reached up to touch Chris's shoes, waved his hand below his feet, then tried to pull him down. "Your really up there, arn't you? What else can you do man?"
"I dunno, Last time, I was falling, and I didn't have any time to think. I just had to do something to stop myself, or else I would have gone splat!" Now that Chris had some control over his power, he felt a LOT better. He pulled his shirt up and wiped his nose, and cleaned his eyes. He must have cried a lot trying to float, because he had soaked the front of his shirt.
"Try to fly around, you know, go left or right or something." Chris tried to focus on going left, and WOOSH, left he went. He tried going up and down, and found that it was no problem at all. Soon Chris was twirling through the air, doing back-flips and loop-t-loops.
"Ooh this is sooo cool! I can fly, I CAN FLY! Wheeee!" Chris made little mini dives in the air, and swooped around. The light blue glow was still flowing into him, but something seemed different about it now. The light began to get a little bit dimmer, almost like he was sucking the life out of it. How do I shut it off? Chris tried pushing the light away with his hands, but that didn't work, of course, so he tried mentally pushing it away, willing it back out of his body. Suddenly, the light-blue glow rushed out of him in gushes, and melted back into the air causing a rippling effect, until it balanced back out. When the last of it was gone, Chris `fell' out of the air. Good thing the couch was right under him! Chris's small body plopped right on to the couch, causing the springs to creek several times.
"Are you ok Chris? I can't believe you did that man! That was the baddest thing I'v ever seen! Your like a superhero or something, you can FLY! Not even Spiderman could fly! Hell, not even Batman could fly! So Chris, are you going to get a costume? Maybe go fight in a ring and win $5,000. Hopefully your step dad won't get shot by a mugger though. You better watch out though dude, cause some sort of gremlin might come after you, or a giant mechanical octopus!" Timmy was bouncing up and down on the couch next to Chris, thinking of all the wonders Chris would now face. "Now the only thing you need is a girl by your side that you get to fuck the brains out of every night, cause all the superheroes get the chicks, unless their dumb like Chris Parker. Well, at least your last name isn't Parker, hehehehe."
Chris was looking at Timmy then, and he knew that he would never return his feelings. He said that superheroes get the chicks, but the only thing Chris wanted was Timmy. Chris wanted Timmy to hold him, to kiss him. Chris's eyes got all teary again.
"Chris, dude, what's wrong?" Timmy asked Chris sympathetically, kneeling down and putting a hand on Chris's arm. That touch sent shivers through Chris's body, all up and down along his spine. "You can tell me what's wrong buddy, you scared of your new superpowers? Cause its not you who should be scared, its everyone else! No one will mess with you now! No more baby Chrissie!"
"Timmy, are you kidding, If the other kids found out about this, I would just be another freak, even more of an outcast than I am now. Look at my hair; they will be able to tell right away. I'm doomed!" Chris started to ball his eyes out. "I don't want to be different from everyone else. I wanna be like you Timmy!"
"You want to be like me? Chris, are you nuts? Do you know how many people would kill to have the powers you do? Probably almost every boy at school will be jealous of you!" Timmy was determined to make his point.
"What? They will be AFRAID of me Timmy. They might think it was cool at first, but they will probably be afraid from the onset, because they will think I'll use my powers for revenge against them. You're not afraid because you know me, but think about the rest of the school. They all know I hate getting picked on, and they will think I'll come after them." The tears had stopped long enough for Chris to get angry, but he stopped himself short. "Timmy, the only reason I showed you, Sniff* is because, Sniff* I trust you, and I hoped, Sniff* you wouldn't think I was a freak. You can't tell anyone else, I haven't even, Sniff* told my MOM yet!"
"Oh gee Chrissie, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you like that. I suppose your right. It would have been so much fun though, having a superhero in my class." Timmy patted Chris's back consolingly.
Chris jumped into Timmy's arms and cried even more, weeping on Timmy's shoulders. "I'm not mad at you Timmy. There has always been a superhero in my class, and his name is Timmy!" Chris hugged Timmy tighter, then pulled back and looked Timmy directly in the face. He wanted to kiss Timmy soo bad, and show Timmy how deep his feelings went for him.
"Chris, why are you staring at me like that? Stop it, your looking at my like I was your lost love. Snap out of it dude!" Chris could tell that he was making Timmy uncomfortable again, but he loved Timmy so much. Timmy was the kind of boy that Chris wanted to be, but knew he never could be.
"Timmy, I... I... Lo... Oh my God..." And Chris started balling again. Now Chris threw a temper tantrum. "It's just not FAIR, not FAIR! I HATE MYSELF, why do I have to be this way?!?!" Chris got up and started throwing pillows off the couch and across the room. Chris RAMPAGED across the living room, kicking his backpack across the room, and threw a beanbag chair, knocking a basketball picture off the wall. Chris threw more pillows at the wall, at pictures of the Colorado Rockies, and the Nuggets, and the Avalanche. Pictures a STRAIGHT kid would have hanging on his wall, not that some sick, twisted gay boy would have. After carrying on a bit more, Chris fell into a heap in the center of the room and curled up into a little ball, moaning all the more.
"Chris, what the heck is with you? I guess this superhero stuff has you pretty rattled, huh?" Timmy said, trying to sound understanding. Timmy just didn't get it. Chris wanted Timmy to love him the way he loved Timmy, but no matter how much he tried, Chris couldn't get Timmy to return his affections. Sure, he could make Timmy feel sorry for him, but he knew he would never get Timmy to love him, not the way he wanted.
Chris just kept crying, curled up into a fetal position, until he heard footsteps coming down the stairs.
"What the HELL is going on down here?" Timmy's dad exclaimed. Mr. Dennings took a quick look around, surveying Chris's destruction. The couch cushions had knocked over the TV, but the TV had landed on another cushion. Pictures knocked off walls, beanbag chair on the other side of the room. Chris's backpack had busted open, and his anime and books were lying strewn about everywhere. Chris was an absolute mess in the center of the room. When he looked up at Mr. Dennings, his eyes were red, and his nose was running out of control, smeared all across his face.
"What the FUCK did you say to him Timmy?" Mr. Dennings came over and picked Timmy up off his feet, dragging him up by his shirt. "What did you say to him son?"
"Dad, I dint say anything to him, I swear! He just went bonkers. I don't know why he went crazy, honest!" Timmy pleaded to his father, but Timmy's father wasn't buying it.
"You expect me to believe Chris went nuts for no reason? What did you say to him? You didn't tease him about his size, did you? You know how sensitive he is about that! Chrissie..." Mr. Dennings turned to look over at Chris "did Timmy tease you about your size?" Chris shook his head. "What did he say to you Chris, tell me, and don't be afraid, I won't hurt you." Mr. Dennings tone softened, trying to coax Chris to give a confession.
"He didn't say anything to me Mr. Dennings. It's my fault. I'm a freak. I'm soo sorry Timmy. I don't deserve to be your friend. I don't deserve to live." Chris got up and ran up the stairs, fleeing the devastation that he had caused, and he hadn't even used his powers to do it, just raw, pent-up emotions.
"Chris, wait!" Timmy yelled, pulling free of his father's grip, chasing after him. "Chris, common, stop!"
Chris ran out the front door, and out to Cherry Street. Chris had to get away, but he didn't know where to go. He couldn't go home now, at least not right away. Timmy and his dad would just follow him over. How could he tell them the real reason he threw his hissy fit? Because he was gay? Because he just found out that he had super-human powers? Either one would land him in serious dodo, as if he weren't in it already. Turing north, Chris started running as hard as he could.
Chris ran and ran, faster and faster, his turmoil of emotions fueling his little legs, spurring them on faster and faster. He HAD to get away from them. Once again Chris concentrated, drawing in his focus as he ran. This time he focused on running faster. My legs are like steel, my body is a freight train, I can run as fast as a speeding bullet. Chris's eyes started glowing blue again, and the ground that rushed beneath him began to glow an orange-brown. Realizing that this was somehow different from the time he tried to fly, like his body was making a different request, he mentally reached out to touch the orange-brown light. The light rushed through him, and his running speed doubled... tripled... quadrupled! Trees were buzzing by him, and the orange-brown radiance swirled around him, speeding him up more and more.
Chris had to concentrate hard on where he was going. He had somehow wound up back on the trail to Soldier Mountain. Chris bulleted up the trail, trees passing in and out of view in mere seconds. Chris was through the valley already, and was already on the trail that went up the back of the mountain. Chris used all his remaining focus to bring his legs to a grinding halt. Chris let go of the orange-brown glow, and let it slide back into the earth. Chris sat down hard on a nearby rock and began crying all over again.
Time passed, and the wind blew, but Chris paid it no heed. He didn't care about the wind anymore. The only boy he ever loved would never understand him. Chris was doomed to a solitary existence, one without love. One without hope. Was there anyone out there who would love him for what he was? Was there anyone out there who could love a sick, twisted little gay boy?
The wind picked up again, after how long, Chris could not know, but there was something different with this wind. Something pulled at him, pulled at his very soul. Chris turned his head up to the summit of Soldier Mountain, still several miles off into the distance. There was something up there. Chris could feel it. Almost of their own free will, Chris's legs `popped' him back up and onto the trail.
With newfound energy coming from who-knows-where, Chris drew in his focus again, and the orange-brown glow of the ground flared up instantaneously. Chris drew it in again, and shot off like a lightning bolt, legs moving so fast they were an unregistered blur. Chris ran the rest of the way around the mountain, all the way around the base. The slope of the trail increased, but it didn't even faze him. There was something drawing him to the top of the mountain.
Chris was going at break-neck speed by the time he neared the summit. No mortal human could run at this speed. Just as fast, he stopped. Before Chris realized it, he had released the orange-brown light, and it swiftly receded back into the ground. Chris fell to his knees, his body not used to that kind of strain. The energy might not have come from his muscles or his body, but his mussels were still USED.
Not really breathing hard, but not able to stand, Chris looked out at the summit. Sitting on a rock, not 5 feet away, was a boy. Chris rubbed his eyes and checked again. The boy was still sitting there, but now tuned, looking at him. The boy looked to be 13 or 14 (and not 13 going on 9 like Chris), and had long white hair, drawn back into a pony tail. He wore a white button-up long sleeve shirt, long white pants, and a white leather belt. The only thing NOT white about him was his blue eyes, bluer than the deepest ocean. Chris looked up at the boy and gawked, this boy was drop dead GEORGOIUS! He didn't have the boyish masculinity that Timmy had, but when he stood up, he stood with a majesty that made Chris happy that he was on the ground, like the little maggot he was. This boy's beauty took Chris's breath away, and it even made it hard to take his next breath in fear that if he did, the boy in front of him would just disappear. The boy had a slender grace to him that wasn't feminine, but instead highly noble. As the boy walked, he walked with the kind of confidence and grace that could only come from many MANY years of life and experience. This was no ordinary 13 year old boy; this was like a 13 year old boy GOD!
Right when Chris thought it would be ok to breathe again, the boy spoke. "Hello Chris, did you have a nice jog up here?" The boy's alto voice rang in his ears like the sweetest melody he had ever heard. That voice could put anyone under an instant spell of infatuation. At least it had that effect on Chris! The boy walked over to Chris and offered a helping hand. The moment Chris touched that hand, all of the aches in his legs washed away instantly. Chris got onto his feet, and allowed himself to be led over to the rock the boy had been sitting on. "Feel better Chris?" The boy's smile almost cracked Chris's heart in two. "Chris, you need to take it a bit easier. Too much fos at once can damage you, possibly even kill you. I wouldn't want to loose you now, after taking so long to find you. Here, take a seat on this rock." The boy gestured to the rock he had been sitting on.
Without question, Chris sat. He tried to open his mouth to say something, but he couldn't get the muscles in his jaw to co-operate with him. "Chris, you're such a sweet boy, don't you realize." The boy said, reaching out his hand to caress the side of Chris's cheek. The boy reached up to rub around Chris's eyes, seeing that many tears had gathered there in a short amount of time. "So fragile. You are like a precious shining little star Chris, twinkling brightly in the night sky. I was like you once Chris. Alone, afraid... But it doesn't have to be like that for you Chris." The boy was soothing the areas around Chris's nose, still caked with the dried residue from his running nose. The boy waved his hand before Chris's face, and then is was as clean as it was after a fresh morning bath. "There you go my sweet shining star, don't cry now." Chris's face brightened, showing its first smile since that horrible ordeal at Timmy's house. The boy patted Chris on the head, and sat down on a rock next to him. Chris watched as the boy tuned his head out to study the setting sun. Its evening already, did I really spend that much time crying at the base of the mountain? At the moment, all Chris could do was just stare out at the sunset with this beautiful apparition sitting beside him
Finally, Chris called up the nerve to speak. "Um, can I ask you a question?" The boy merely nodded. "What's your name?"
The boy slowly came out of his torpor and looked back at Chris, then gave him a smile warm enough to melt the polar icecaps. "Taylin, my name is Taylin Asterifos"
Well, what did you think? This chapter just kind of wrote itself, I sat in front of the computer on my day off, and out it came, in one sitting! Please let me know what you think of it. I think this chapter, more than the last one, sets the tone for this series. I plan to take this story to the limits on my imagination, so hopefully I don't loose myself along the way, or anyone else!
Comments and feedback very welcome at taylin_asterifos@yahoo.com