Soul razor, p.1
Soul Razor, page 1
This is fantasy based in reality.
SouL RaZor
The scene begins with a story of three souls. A lonely island above all reason, and beyond any hopes of being found. A tale of the girl who was forgotten, and a hybrid son of a god. With rapiers drawn, pointed at one another’s throats, the master succumbs to his own desires. Treated as an equal by his own failure.
With shades and umbra behind each evil, utopia begins to become not but an inkling conception hidden beneath the will for its awakening. This is how all was in the beginning, and this is how all will be in the end. Once all asylums have been diminished, how long will they last? Once all the planet has given is taken away, how will they survive? Only by war are they protected.
The only ones that partake in conflict of such magnitude will be the only race that can liberate the suppressed. This is where our scene begins. The nostalgic town of melancholy night, and the shining city of forever sunrise.
Blade: the first soul razor
Table of Contents
Scene I: Birth Day
Scene II: Memories
Scene III: Greatness
Scene IV: Zombie
Scene V: The beginning
Scene VI: Friends
Scene VII: Travel
Scene VIII: There
Scene IX: Arrival
Scene X: Lenna
Scene XI: Night
Scene XII: Dawn
Scene XIII: Chosen
Scene XIV: Teleportation
Scene XV: Able
Scene XVI: Learning
Scene XVII: Balada
Scene XVIII: First flight
Scene XIX: Revenge
Scene XX: Mother
Scene XXI: Help
Scene XXII: Preparation
Scene XXIII: Load off
Scene XXIV: Mission
Scene XXV: Opera
Scene XXVI: Fragile Hearts
Scene XXVII: Turned Tables
Scene XXVIII: Intermission
Scene XXIX: Distraction
Scene XXX: Now or Never
Scene XXXI: Rescue
Scene XXXII: Escape
Scene XXXIII: Resurrection
Scene XXXIV: Creation
Scene XXXV: Questions
Scene XXXVI: Explanation
Scene XXXVII: Xevle
Scene XXXVIII: The Ultimate Crime
Scene XXXIX: Murder
Scene XL: Monster
Scene XLI: Hunt
Scene XLII: Regret
Scene XLIII: Heartless
Scene XLIV: Destruction
Scene XLV: The Soul Master
Scene XLVI: Rylan
Scene XLVII: Distortion
Scene XLVIII: Plans
Scene XLIX: Rendezvous
Scene L: Gone for Good
Scene LI: Dating
Scene LII: Dinner
Scene LIII: Meeting
Scene LIV: Strategy
Scene LV: Dream
Scene LVI: Six People, One Evil
Scene LVII: Ambushed
Scene LVIII: Ravage
Scene LIX: Stopped
Scene LX: Horus
Scene LXI: Trigger
Scene LXII: Delusions
Scene LXIII: Invasion
Scene LXIV: Wandering
Scene LXV: Detour
Scene LXVI: Useless
Scene LXVII: Baleen
Scene LXVIII: Blood
Scene LXIX: Life
Scene LXX: Falling
Scene LXXI: Return
Scene LXXII: Soldier
Scene LXXIII: Ghost
Scene LXXIV: Doctor
Scene LXXV: Shadows
Scene LXXVI: Betrayal
Scene LXXVII: Deception
Scene LXXVIII: Dancing Mad
Scene LXXIX: End
Scene LXXX: Moonlight
Scene LXXXI: Angel
Scene LXXXII: Stars
Scene LXXXIII: Morning
Scene LXXXIV: Underworld
Scene LXXXV: Why Not?
Scene LXXXVI: Deleterious
Scene LXXXVII: Happiness
Scene LXXXVIII: Nothing to Lose
Scene LXXXIX: Regained
Scene LC: Thank You
Scene LCI: The Office
Scene LCII: Moon and Stars
Scene LCIII: Climax
Scene LCIV: Titan
Scene LCV: Smoking Barrel
Scene LCVI: A Fight Between Men
Scene LCVII: Finale
Scene LCVIII: Rough Edge
Scene LCIX: Afterlife
Scene C: Sun
Act I:
Morning of Falling Snow
A good day to be born
Scene I: Birth Day
That was the first day I ever felt full, like I had a true purpose to fulfill. Sixteen times, sixteen! That’s the irony of it all. Nothing had mattered before! Was it because that this mission, my purpose, was what I was crafted to accomplish? Is it that, despite my better judgment, I am destined to do this accursed duty?
And it’s all because of that girl, that single, lost, forgotten girl; that I am who I am today. Five years past, and I have finally become the soldier, no, the warrior Umbra always wanted me to be.
“Lenna!!” someone shouted over my head. I shot up, like an arrow let loose from its sling, going out and blasting through the monstrous machine that was bulldozing its way through the masses.
It was Landen who had been shouting. My old rival with white hair, he smelled unbelievably like cigarettes, no doubt burning up his lungs until he had to use his voice to shout over me. “Blade!” he said noticing me for the first time.
A Dietheral, thirty-foot-high mechs built for the sole purpose of clearing out life from overcrowded kingdoms, came charging over the piles of junk we hid behind for shelter. “Help, Lenna!” he commanded pointing her out to me, struggling with an onslaught of Umbaya’s soldiers.
“Alright,” I mumbled and raced after her.
I came upon the beast and landed just on its jointed shoulders, in the precise position that Tera had shown us to where it couldn’t reach. I drew my sword and sliced at the connecting cords holding its heavy upper body together, causing it to sway beyond any control.
Tilting away, I pulled at the base, turning it, completely under my control, jerking at first instance, then colliding with my will and causing it to eventually crash into the unassuming army that was going against my friend.
“Thanks,” Lenna said, finishing off the cannon fodder that had escaped. “Remind me that I owe you one.”
An explosion sounded from the distance, we rushed over and saw the echoing turbines of the massive structure that housed all of the wealthiest men, women, and children. Surrounding it were columns of light, fire from underground that was shooting up in a desperate escape from its filthy prison. Everything was black and blue now, dark gold, speckled with dashes of white and black; so different from what life once was. How I missed those days.
I missed the days where I would wreck my bike and it would be a big deal, or get a call on the phone from a friend and that meant something. Five years, five.
Guns went off within earshot, and instinctively we both hit the ground. Soldiers of the Umbaya alliance pounded out of a steamer truck that was racing across the battlefield, dropping human bodies like care packages from hell, each with their own family, their own future, and their own past. Each with defining moments and aspirations, that up until this point had seemed relevant.
But now, on the brink of destruction, I wondered whether or not my own fleeting existence was the same. Perhaps, we were alike, Umbra and I.
Umbra had been a revolutionary at his time, just like I am, and he led the people before soullessly slaughtering them. He helped create me, meaning he was like my godfather.
How I regret killing him all these years. I still remember it too, it all started, with that hollow manikin of a man, and the cries of desperation went unheard that day.
#
Suddenly, my phone buzzed. My entire world came rushing back to me, flooding my mind with cold reality, jerking me awake like I had just dreamed about falling off a bridge in the middle of the night.
I checked the flashing screen to find that it was Maria; she had been my friend since third grade and was now dating my best friend Kyser. I never liked her as anything more though, she was good looking and stuff, I just never considered it, and she had been my friend for too long. I answered thinking it would be rude not to. Still it was a little odd having her call me and not Kyser. “H-hello?” I said groggy, just having woken up.
“Hey, Blade, I just wanted to wish you a happy birthday.” she replied. My stomach fluttered when she spoke, it was an annoying sensation.
“Hey thanks,” I said. I felt like I should say more, but it was a little awkward talking to her. “So... umm,” I said but sounded like an idiot. I just didn’t want the conversation to end there, hanging like a loose end.
“What is it?” she asked. It was strange though, she never talked to me at school very much now. It was funny how I talked more on the phone, late at night, than in person.
“Umm, do you still fish with your dad down at the secret place?” I slapped myself instantly for asking that, but it was all that came to mind now. The story behind that question dated back to our childhood. It was the year when Kyser joined the Rushball team for school, and Maria and I were the only two friends of our trio, so we would go down to Lake Ebony and play in the water.
We started out just exploring the surrounding forest.
It ended up being only me and Maria there every day, fishing, and talking, telling stories. I found out that her mom had died when Maria was only three. She lacked a real woman role model which was why she was such a tomboy. But she was real close to her dad. I never met him, but I heard a lot about him. Maria was an only child so her dad was all she had. It’s only natural she’d show him the secret spot.
I stopped going after that. Maria went with her father, but it felt inappropriate being there. Don’t know why though, it’s not like we were making out down there. That was sort of when we started drifting apart from each other. After the sports season ended, Kyser started coming over to my house after school, so there was no need for Maria anymore.
We still talked to Maria; I just never had time with only her. Eventually Maria and Kyser started hanging out more and more without me. Then they began dating. Kyser is still my best friend, he tells me that a lot for some reason, and Maria and I still joke around, but things never went back to the way they were that one summer when we were still young, before high school happened.
Maria’s voice startled me. I didn’t realize it but there was a long pause after I had asked the question. “Blade, I stopped going to the secret place a long time ago,” she said.
I didn’t know what else to say. “Yeah,” I replied. That’s all I said.
“Well I’ll see you at school Monday then,” she said.
“Okay bye.”
“Bye.”
I closed my phone before she had hung up. I had completely forgotten that today was my birthday. I was sixteen today, and all that had happened today was that I went to school and crashed my bike then came home ate dinner and went to bed. Some birthday, but I’ve never really cared for them anyways.
Scene II: Memories
Lake Ebony was defiantly the smallest of small towns in our already miniscule island of Soto. Located farther north it was akin to some of the coldest temperatures on the island, even making the spring time frosted and jacket worthy. Today was no different; I threw on my heavy black leather coat and grabbed my book bag for school, and headed out the door to catch the bus.
I always hated the bus; it was the bane of my existence. It was nothing but a huge metal box full of phonies and old farts who would shout at you for the sake of shouting. Now that I was sixteen that made me one of the oldest to still ride the forsaken machine to school, minus the people on their way to work and such who also had to suffer through the monotonous commute. No part of my body was looking forward to this punishment, but that was sort of my own doing since I had, as already mentioned, crashed my motor bike that was my normal form of transportation to school.
It was a nice motor bike too, a 200X type two hand holder stinger. We called them hand holders because they were built for kids, but I had modified it to be more suited to my experienced mind, which also made it faster and easier to control. It was molded into a creature of my own creation, which sucked because now it was a pile of junk being scraped off the road by a sweeper. It would be years before I had enough money to get another one even close to as good as the stinger. I didn’t work, and my parents couldn’t afford it.
My mom was the only one who worked in the family; she was a clerk for the local breaker reactor electricity service, a simple desk job that paid just enough to keep us afloat. There were the war bonds that my dad received after his leave from the military, but those would only last for so long, not to mention the college expenses that would add up in the next few years.
It’s not that I didn’t want to work; I did, to take the gap left by my crippled father. He had been injured during the Cronos war right before I was born; lost the use of both his legs but gained a bleeding heart award for his sacrifice. Finally being old enough I took the responsibility upon myself for the family’s sake, house work, shopping, cleaning. It wasn’t bad, it gave me a since of purpose and belonging. Things had been that way for as long as I could remember.
The bus pulled up and the heavy glass doors folded inward welcoming me to the heat and stifling comfort within. “All aboard,” the scraggy driver said imitating a train conductor.
I climbed the slippery near frozen steps and took a seat on the first row, the only seat that was unoccupied. I could see myself in the mirror and saw that I had a scar running down from my left eye down to my cheek, it was subtle barely noticeable, but I could tell since I knew my own face pretty well. I must have gotten it yesterday in the wreck, but hadn’t noticed until now. My driving goggles were also still hanging around my neck; guess that I had put them on out of habit, always going through the morning routine the same way every morning, except today.
The bus had always held some sentimental memories for me, back from when I was a kid and would ride it with my friends. Sentimental sure, but the bad part sprouted from when I was nine, in third grade. Usually I would walk to school instead of having to go through the pandemonium of public transportation, however that winter was especially cold, I think we had nearly 200 inches of snowfall that year. It was miserable.
Then there was that one day, everyone was already high strung because the janky power grid provided by the breaker reactor was running slow due to the freezing temperatures, and since the buses ran on electricity via a series of cables stretching all throughout the town that hooked onto the buses, we were delayed by about half an hour. School didn’t even start until nine thirty for a couple of days, which was hell, why did we even still have to go??
Point being, that was a terrible year, although it didn’t get much better than that, and by time I had arrived at the building, I already had a black eye, a swollen lip, and my lungs were burning from the smoke inside the bus and the cold air. The facial bruising came courtesy of the school bull, Sid Hisenhower. His family was from Karak, the big city on the east coast that tried to over throw the kingdom nearly twenty odd years ago triggering the “Cronos War.” And trust me, the only reason I know that is because it was what we were studying in class just then.
Anyways, Sid had come up on the bus with his cronies, just like all school bulls do, he shot a few curse words at me but I didn’t flinch. I had always had a strong since of justice, mom says that I get it from my dad along with my bad habit to pick a fight with any fool dummy that starts a shove fight over a freaking bus seat, which explains the eye and the lip.
“Move over, Edin,” he commanded in vain.
“Like I’d move for a dumb ass who doesn’t remember my first name,” my instinctive sarcasm cut in. Score one Blade, zero for dumb ass.
First he raised his fist in an attempt to land a punch, but I quickly had my book bag up to block it. Since that didn’t work, he grabbed my shirt and looked like he was about to say something but I didn’t want to hear his voice so I spit in his face before he got a chance to say it.
“You’re disgusting!” he said. He pulled up his leg in an attempt to knee me in the stomach but I leaned forward and he missed and caught me in the chest instead, which didn’t hurt because nothing ever hurts me in a fight. I get too pumped up, and forget everything except the beef I had with the other person.
The adults had taken notice at this point but they just watched and smoked their death sticks or read a paper like it was just another normal frosty day. I grabbed Sid’s wrist which had me by the collar. He was strong because he was a year older than me, but I eventually got him off, then pulled my fist back and punched him in the cheek. It must not have hurt that bad because he didn’t reel back in pain like I had expected. Either that or he just didn’t want to show it or his anger was greater than his sense.
The bus driver came on over the speakers. “Find a seat guys,” he said like the epic fight going on was no big deal. Sid tried punching me in the face, but I deflected it with the back of my arm. Then he tried again and punched me hard in the eye. I felt the hot rush of blood flowing to it I knew a bruise was forming. My face grew hot, I was either embarrassed, or I was angry. It was too heated and confusing to tell at this point.
