Radioactive

Prologue

The cottage burst into flames. Smoke filled the air. The whole village was starting to be engulfed in flames. Soldiers in black armour marched through, bringing down houses and towers. The town was scavenged for goods: any gold, jewels, food, and furniture was scoured and put with the load.
Not only were there soldiers, but there were goblins, and trolls, manticores, and even a menacing Kromadon: a reptilian wingless dragon with hard scales and a poisonous breath, and brawny arms. It had sharp spikes covering its back, with a rider that was a man with a spiked cape the color of blood, an evilly enchanted mask, and a wickedly big and frightening mace. The head of the mace was flaming, and he threatened all of the villagers with it.
There was one survivor, a farmer, in the midst of the calamity. He had concealed himself in foliage; now he watched the gruesome macabre of the pillage plight. He dashed out of the town, into the forest, and right up the steps of the old witch’s cottage in desperation.
“What is to become of us?!?” he screeched.
Her eyes began to turn blue as an oracle overcame her.
“A hero will arise. From the castle of Argon. He will have special abilities. Darkness will rise. But he will be resilient.” those were the old woman’s last words. She fell over onto the ground and gave up the ghost. The words flooded over him.
A hero will arise.
















I
The Trolls
Jock heard a deep rumble below him. He immediately got up and pushed in the stool that he sat upon. Breathing heavily, he stuffed the page that he was working on in his diary. Jock hoped the ink he had used was dry by now. Abruptly, he opened his cabin door and slid into the shadows.
Again he heard the rumble. It was very late, he wished that there was no one else awake in the castle because he was onto a mystery. Jock wasn’t sure about this one, but just in case, he had grabbed his silver dagger, the one his father had given to him as a gift. Shortly after, his father went away and never returned.
Jock did not know the danger of this venture, for he was just reaching seventeen years of age and was not completely mature. Jock leapt down the great stairs and passed a set of armour statues. He tiptoed past a sleeping guard. Boom! The main door blew into smithereens leaving the silhouettes of two fifteen foot tall figures in the dust. Jock gasped, befuddled. They were Inferno Giants.
Roooooaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh!
The giants charged spewing enormous chunks of fire. Not only did the giants have fire, they had bulk. One fist being brought down crushed a whole staircase. Jock panicked. The second floor was where the people lived! The exits were just being blocked! Fire was everywhere and the giants were destroying everything. One of them did an agile jump onto the second floor. It then used its breath to light its hands.
People were awake. Three knights on the second floor started to run toward the giant, one of them throwing his lance. The giant caught it in midair and snapped it in half.
“Org! Just grab the scrawny sprog!” yelled the giant from below. Jock jumped behind some of the armour.
“Roaaar!” the giant bellowed in rage as a lance struck his chest.
“Roa-uhhhh.” He had died.
With that the body of the giant below burst into flame with rage. Then, the giant spotted Jock peering to the second floor.
Jock spotted his uncle, his beloved uncle looking at him. His uncle yelled,
“You aren’t who you think you are!”
What was that supposed to mean??
It was too late to find out. A giant hand grabbed his shirt. Jock held his breath and closed his eyes. The moment didn’t come. Instead of his doom, he was put in an enormous bag tied to the giant’s back.
How could he possibly want me?, Jock thought.
As much as Jock squirmed and squiggled, he couldn’t manage to get out.
They’re capturing me!, thought Jock. His mind raced. You aren’t who you think you are, his uncle had said, now he was being captured by fire-giants, who would bring him… where? Then he really panicked.
Fire giants worked for Gorg, the tyrant. They were taking him to Gorg.







II
The Rescue
Jock began to get sick after being in the sack for so long. It seemed to be days. He was hopelessly flopped and tossed around. The sack was a lamb skin, warm, but itchy and arid.
The air began to be stale and rotten. Finally one day the sack opened and daylight poured in and engulfed his body. Then a shadow blocked it. The giant’s hand roughly squeezed his torso. Jock was raised to the giant’s eye level, and squinted at by the Giant’s distasteful eyes. The giant scrunched his gnarly, warty nose and said with a grunt, “He’s too puny,”
Jock was carried through a hall, past a steel door that was guarded, and into an enormous chamber. Torches lit it up and the air was stale. Black stones were lined in between guards who were each bearing two long, black, wickedly sharp spears. Their helms were covered in armour. In the middle of the chamber there was one large, spiked throne. Jock couldn’t quite tell who or what was on it, but he wanted to know. He couldn’t see, but he could hear the voices.
“Your late.” growled a voice.
“Oh Gorg, tyrant of men, advocate of death, stealer of souls, I am deeply displeased with myself, and grieved at the death of my partner, Org, but your heinous, they have raised the gates, guards, and defences, which should give me an excuse for the lateness.”
“No excuses,” Gorg barked, “Hand over the lad.”
Now Jock could see that hideous mask and the visible breath coming out. It smelled terrible beyond description. Jock couldn’t see where the eyes were moving, but he knew that Gorg was examining him.
“Take him to the lab, we’ve got work to do.”
* * * * * * * *
The lab was a cleaner room, with lots of tables and tools and potions and experimenting creatures. The wall was lined with bookshelves and supplies. It smelled a little bit better than before, but the odor was still gruesome. The inferno giant brought him in and strapped him securely to a table.
“Stay here, or I’ll make you pay.” growled the giant while holding up a fist. Jock couldn’t move anyway. As much as he strained, the leather straps held fast. Jock groaned in frustration.
Jock waited for a few minutes. He waited for a few more minutes. No one came. Then from the doorway he heard quick, urgent voices. Two men and a woman was what it sounded like. He lifted his head as far as the straps allowed. His mouth was agape as he watched.
He saw a short, muscular man with four arms that each wielded their own sword. He was dueling with a scientist with one arm while holding off two guards with the other arms while yelling to his comrades.
Jock saw a girl at the edge of the room with a tall longbow with spikes on the ends. Her brown hair was pulled into a tight bun. She was rapidly firing a volley of arrows one at a time, pushing back the line of soldiers coming at them.
Jock saw a tall, robustly built black man. He was bald with intimidating eyebrows and bore a long, metal stick. What stuck out was that he had a scar going across his eye and down to his cheek. He wore two criss-crossed bandoliers stuffed with throwing knives and ninja stars. He had strapped two chakrams to his back. The man was rushing toward him through the onslaught. With the swift spin of his knife, one of the leather straps went loose.
Jock coughed and said, “Who are you?”
The man cut another strap and then responded saying,
“That isn’t important right now. What’s important is that I get you out of here.” the man grunted as he cut the last strap. He tossed Jock a knife and said,
“Defend yourself for a few seconds while I do something fast,” The black man quickly emptied a canteen of gunpowder on to the table where he was being operated on.
“What did they do to you?”
Jock gulped, “They cut off a few strands of my hair, but that’s all.”
The man nodded and said, “They need DNA for the potion.”
He whipped a bola at the legs of an oncoming goblin and it fell. Across the room the speed of arrows increased. The four-armed man was rapidly swinging the swords harum-scarum and holding off the soldiers well.
“Blow the powder, Scar!” he yelled.
“Why am I so important?” Jock asked.
“Later.” the man who Jock thought was Scar struck a match across his own face as it ignited. “But in the meantime, we better get out of here.”
With that, Scar dropped the burning match into the gunpowder.







III
The Escape
BOOSH! Scar pulled Jock under the operating table just in time. If it had crumped just a moment later they would be dead. Smoke shot into the air as Scar put a hand around Jock’s nose and mouth. Scar escorted him roughly out from under the table and to the door through the smoke.
They stepped through the door.
One goblin stood there and then charged with its spear. Scar just thumped its head as if it were no big deal and it went out cold. They snuck past a corridor and through a hallway. They went down a set of stairs.
“Wait here.” Scar told him.
Jock stood there in the shadow as Scar went up the stairs out of sight. He waited patiently. Jock felt overwhelmed at the events that had happened the past few days. Being captured by fire giants rescued by… who? More trains of thoughts. Why him? Why was he so important? Why did Gorg need his DNA? Why? What was Gorg planning? Did this have to do with what his uncle had told him? Why wouldn’t anyone give him the information he needed? His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a pair of goblins coming toward him.
“What was all that commotion? We’d better go check upstairs.” one snarled to the other.
They could not see him, yet they were easing towards him. He took a step back. The gravel crunched under his foot, blowing his cover. Instantaneously one of the guards hurled his spear in Jock’s direction while snarling a vicious, menacing, vile, delirious grunt. Jock barely had time to react. He ducked, and the speartip grazed his forehead for what felt was a long moment.
Jock swung into action.
Twisting his torso, he lashed out with his heel and let it connect with the goblin’s chest. He shot backward and slammed into the wall like an arrow. The last thing that the goblin did was hurling his dagger at Jock; who couldn’t do much. He ducked onto the ground expiditiously. The other goblin reacted quicker, lunging in with his spear. Jock ducked once again, but this time he picked up the spear of the fallen goblin as he jumped back up.
The goblin gnashed his teeth with malicious wrath before diving in with his spear. Jock put his spear in between the goblin’s spear and his chest, countering the attack. They engaged in a spear lock, and Jock succeeded to shove the goblin into the wall. The goblin recovered quickly and full of new energy: rage. bringing his spear blade down on Jock’s, he sliced it in half.
Jock grit his teeth and knit his eyebrows. The goblin threw a punch and clipped Jock square in the nose. He fell back feeling nauseous, and when he got back up, he barely dodged the goblins bony knee to the face. The goblin stabbed again, Jock slid to the side, grabbing the body of the spear and knocking its butt against the goblins forehead. He fell silent, unconscious, and then his knees buckled and he collapsed over the ground, slump.
Jock was breathing hard. Blood leaked down from the gash on his forehead.
He slid back into the shadows as he waited for Scar.
Scar came soon, and he had the four armed man and the girl with the bow. She quickly examined Jock with great skepticism. She nodded, but still think that she didn’t approve. The other man merely regarded Jock with a quick glance. They also glanced at the bodies sprawled on the floor, and they became more sure.
The quad arm man made a quick and silent gesture. They all followed him. Jock came last. They walked down one hallway after another. Many a time there were guards at the ends of the halls, and there was always arrows in them before they could react. Finally, they stopped in a deafening silence. Then it happened. Jock heard a deep, and distant rumble approaching.
Four armed man made a swift hand motion. The girl set four arrows on her bow string, docked it, and pulled it back. Quad arms had four swords all ready to go and Scar had his stick poised. Jock got in the back, not knowing what to do. Just to be safe, he drew the dagger given to him by Scar.
The rumble got closer and closer until… a stampede of soldiers flooded into the hallway! The girl released all four of her arrows, and then drew back four new ones. Goblins fell due to the impact of the arrows. Right now they were depending on her to keep the apocalypse of goblins back. More and more came. Soon, they were too close range to keep firing at. She slung her bow around her shoulders and drew a silver katana, joining now as a melee fighter.
The opponent developed strategy rather quickly. They had spearmen charging with shields interlocked in the front, creating a phalanx formation effect. The hall was only about six feet wide, made of black bricks, covered in moisture. There were torches every five feet. Scar used his spear to launch himself into the enemy. Their small guerrilla all advanced but Jock. This all still seemed crazy to him. He thought that he would die. Nevertheless, their left and right flank were closing in.
Jock did the only thing that he could do, he jumped from the ground, to the body of a spear to the main mass of the multitude. He swung around like a mad man. There were too many, surrounding him. Jock started to sweat. This was too much pressure. The rest had made it through already. He fell over. A battle ax was coming toward him. Jock yelled in terror and his muscles clenched, his teeth grit.
Then it happened all of the sudden. There was a wave of light as he was absorbed in a dark energy, and then it was gone. An enormous light wave broke through the air with a nearly deafening CRACK! It shot through the halls. Goblins grunted and fell to their knees in pain. They literally began to collapse as their muscles stopped operating. No one now was standing up. Jock struggled to get to his feat, dumbfounded, and failed. The world began to spin, then got cloudy.
Jock fell into absolute darkness.

IV
The Deception

Scar hopped over the limp corpses and made his way to Jock. Scar picked him up and then draped him over his shoulders.
“We should have known it was this bad,” said quad arms, but his name was David. The girl was Rachel. “Keep him unconscious. He would slow us down if not.”
They continued down the hallway and sent Rachel on reconnaissance. After all, the next room was their ticket out. She came back shortly and reported only a few pairs of guards. David nodded as they bolted into the room. It was a vast cavern lit by torches. Their were five pairs of guards. They all had crossbows, a steel shield, and two long daggers attached to their back. Elite guards. Highly trained. These were for the gates.
They were immediately in position, with their shields planted and their crossbows poised. The group was met with a volley of arrows, showering over them, shot with painfully precise accuracy. Many of the arrows came close to hitting them, but none did. Twelve guards were positioned, and all of their crossbows were automatic.
Bolts flew through the air and were met with a wave of ninja stars coming from Scar. Then there was a brief explosion and smoke billowed throughout the room. The guards faltered as if stupefied for a moment, and when the smoke departed, the rogues were out of sight. They yelled in frustration, but charged out of the now open gate. They spotted the small group some fifty meters away, bolting like mice from a cat’s claw into the woods.
A bolt barrage was pushing toward the small group. The trees were getting pummeled by arrows, and one of the bolts struck David in the forearm, he yelled and yanked it out. Scar started deflected some with his metal stick. After chasing them into the forest for a short time, the cat decided that it had lost its prey.
But in the wood, hiding in the undergrowth and vegetation, hid the fugitives. Once the guards were well out of sight, they stood up. They were in a small clearing, maybe ten by ten feet. They all panted for a minute, and David ripped off some of his sleeve, exposing more of his arm, and tied it tightly around his forearm. He grunted and then said, “I started to ask myself if it was really worth it.” Jock’s eyes fluttered open. Then Jock’s questions just flooded out.
“Why am I important? Why did you save me? Is there something bigger going on?”
Scar furrowed his brow and said, “When you were young, you’re father dropped you into a radioactive volcano that happened to be cursed. You survived, barely. You took in the power of it. When the word got out that you survived, there was a bounty on your father’s head, and shortly after, an unknown assassin killed him. He was able to give you to your uncle in Aragon. Now you have a special power, a weapon that holds this universe together, and Gorg would do anything he could to get his hands on you, and that’s where we came along. We belong to a rogue society dedicated to stopping this tyranny. We’re on the brink of battle.”
Jock was wordless. He stammered, “P-power?”
“What you just did.”
Jock looked around and noticed just then that David and Rachel hadn’t said a word. David peered at him and said, “You know what’s going to stop this war from coming?” He glared and then it happened.
David flicked his wrist and a long dagger shot out, aimed for his heart. Jock twisted and it jabbed his shoulder and pain seared through it. Jock fell over in pain and shock, but it saved him from another speeding dagger. Rachel had released a high tension arrow and it caught his pant leg, not tearing any flesh. Scar knocked the arrow she was grabbing next out of her hands and clocked David in the face with his metal stick. Over the commotion, Scar yelled, “Run! I’ll hold them off!”
Jock was in no condition for running, but he half limped and half sprinted into the undergrowth with a terrible feeling in his gut.
His so called rescuers had betrayed him.













V

The Army

Jock hurt all over. The running part didn’t help. He was fatigued, he was injured, but his strongest feeling was fear. Dashing through the woods hoping not to get caught by his betrayers, and not by Gorg. He didn’t know what side to be on. Jock wanted one thing more than anything. Sleep.