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Main Characters:
Isabelle 'Hollow' Jonson - My own
Fletcher 'Strike' Pine - My own
Jim 'Crow' Damor - My own (villain)
Clove 'Night' Woods - @Val
Wren Kleos - @HelloColdWorld
Fantasma 'Fantom' Raeford - @Boriiii
Isaac 'Newt' Newton - @Wolfy
Lambert 'Black Sheep' Omysha - @Casmi
Walker 'Shadow' Vince - @PepperPancake
Main Characters:
Isabelle 'Hollow' Jonson - My own
Fletcher 'Strike' Pine - My own
Jim 'Crow' Damor - My own (villain)
Clove 'Night' Woods - @Val
Wren Kleos - @HelloColdWorld
Fantasma 'Fantom' Raeford - @Boriiii
Isaac 'Newt' Newton - @Wolfy
Lambert 'Black Sheep' Omysha - @Casmi
Walker 'Shadow' Vince - @PepperPancake
On the dreary coast of Juler, the sound of rushing cars tore through the city. Dozens of different vehicles sped through the city. Vans, cars, motorcycles, all raced to the old warehouse on 23rd Street.
As vehicles piled up outside the supposed storage facility, rushing people in unique attire flooded into the buildings, revealing its true form.
Prison. A prison for the worst sorcerers this side of England. The most evil of all the mages: all in one building. A death trap.
Alarms roared violently as the crowd plunged into the maze of corridors, which twisted and turned forever, but they all knew their way.
One man, a suited fellow, was approached by a short, tanned man in red robes, holding a piece of tattered, dusty paper.
“Mr Jardon?” the petite man said in his high pitched voice.
“Ah, Usher. Please, call me Jailer. Anyway, what do we have?” said Jailer. Bruce ‘Jailer’ Jardon was a tall, slender man: an Elemental mage, using his powers to control the four elements, fire, water, earth and air. He had pale skin and deep blue eyes, with neat brown hair, always wearing a suit.
“Well,” squealed Usher, “one of our prisoners has broken out. Damor.”
Bruce’s eyes narrowed in anger. Damor was one of his biggest rivals: he had caught the Dark mage trying to rob a small store on Concrete Road.
“He got out about 7 minutes ago-” claimed Usher, who was cut off as a dagger had sliced viciously through his neck.
Jailers eyes swivelled just as Jim ‘Crow’ Damor tossed a dagger, the tip slicing through the air. Jailer ducked and pulled out a pistol, firing 3 shots at Crow.
Damor flipped in the air, pushing his legs against the wall powerfully and flinging himself through the air, daggers shining in the light. He crashed into Jailer and swiped his dagger, almost cutting Bruce’s forehead open.
Jardon kicked up, throwing a fireball at Jim, which he blocked with his daggers but was flung back. Jardon looked around, to see a terrible sight. Every person in the room was dead.
Unfortunately, he was distracted, and turned his eyes in front of him just as the table smashed into him, knocking him unconscious.
Crow raised his daggers to deal the final blow, until he heard the sound of running. Thirty footsteps. Reinforcements. He jumped to the window, smashing through the glass with his foot like it was a balloon.
“See ya next time, Bruce,” he snickered in his Cockney voice, before leaping through the window and disappearing into the gloomy night.
~
A pale kid hurried down the damp corridor of the mysterious building. He was tall, with skin as pale as a vampire and slim. He had short but thick black hair and piercing blue eyes. He wore a red shirt, black jeans and black trainers.
He burst into the room, another man standing there in a black jacket, white shirt, black trousers and smart black shoes.
The man in the jacket swivelled slightly.
“Yes, Shadow?” questioned the man.
“Well, Mr Davies, Jim ‘Crow’ Damor has escaped from Juler,” he said emotionless. Jacob ‘Elder’ Davies looked up fully at him.
“Call in Lock Squad,” Jacob cried, “Crow has just declared war on the mage world.”
~
Fletcher ‘Strike’ Pine was just about to jump off the roof onto his target, when his phone rang. His ringtone, Centuries by Fallout Boy, was turned down quiet luckily.
He stuck his hand in his pocket and took the phone out, slowly answering the call.
“Yes?” he asked, confused.
“Fletcher, Lock Squad is assembling,” explained Walker ‘Shadow’ Vince.
“Okay, okay…” he moaned sluggishly, “Rendezvous point?”
“Unguard. There’s an alley on the right of a Pizza Express.”
“Gotcha.”
“Don’t be late…”
“When am I late?”
“All the time.”
“That’s the point Walker,” he sniggered, hanging up on the call, stick his phone in his pocket and flipping off the roof.
~
Clove ‘Night’ Woods sat in the trees, waiting for her guy. A single steel arrow was notched into her sleek bow. She was wearing all black: black leggings, tank top, cropped jacket and boots. She was slim and about 5’10, with emerald green eyes with snow white flecks. Her black and purple flowed down to her waist. She had pale skin.
A gang of armed, muscular thugs strolled into the forest area. In the front was Clove’s target: Diego Argola. A tanned man, with short blonde hair and green eyes, a wicked smile across his face, wearing only a grey suit.
“It seems Miss Woods isn’t here,” spoke Diego in a thick Portuguese accent.
Suddenly, Clove’s phone vibrated, giving her away. They all turned their heads to her. She fired the arrow into Diego’s chest, killing him, and leaped onto one of the thugs, tugging at his brown hair.
She pulled his head back and smashed it into another thug’s head, whilst jumping off and blasting two back with a gust of wind.
She launched a fireball into one, throwing knives into two and smashing one of their heads against a tree, cracking his skull wide open.
The last thug sprinted away, but she notched a flaming steel arrow in her bow and shot him in the back of the head, blood leaking onto the grass.
She pulled her phone out and answered it.
“Yes? You just blew my operation,” she moaned into the phone.
“Well, Clove, we have bigger problems,” Vince snapped, “Crow’s escaped from Juler, Lock Squad is getting called in.”
“Rendezvous?” she asked curiously.
“Alley next to the Pizza Express in Unguard.”
“Got it.”
~
Wren wasn’t happy about being tied to the chair. Yet she wanted to be there. Wren Kleos was 5’7, small freckles dotting her fair skin. Her was mid-length and black, space buns dotted around it. She was athletic, and usually wore black, ripped skinny jeans, a black crop top and camo jacket. Her mage necklace, a blood drop carved into metal, was still out, not glowing at all. She was wearing a black dress currently, to go undercover.
“Miss Kleos… you really thought you could evade us?” said one man in a grey t-shirt and black trousers.
“No, not really. Might as well try though, eh Capper?” she smirked.
Capper Est narrowed his eyes, signalling for his henchmen: one, the more intelligent one, to pull the lever and two, the burly one, to attach the chain.
They did so, and Wren was lifted up and over a tank with a Serpent inside. Serpents were dragon-like creatures, like huge water snakes, that could breathe ice blasts.
“Let me ask you something Capper, do you know that some blood mages aren’t affected by trap spells?” she laughed, “I have a cut on my hand. And look! My necklace is glowing!”
A drop of blood trickled down her middle finger and she flicked it at them, transforming it into a see-through cloud of red storm. It shockwaved them back, and she ripped the ropes off her and jumped onto the platform, punching the smart henchman in the face, knocking him back.
The brawny henchman grabbed her and threw her in the tank, but she swam up just before the Serpent got her. She grabbed the platform and pulled, throwing herself and her foot into the burly henchman, knocking him out.
The fight was over after barely a minute, all of them tied up, mages on the way to arrest them.
Her phone vibrated. She answered it and was about to speak when she was cut off.
“Rendezvous Unguard, alley by Pizza Express, Lock squad assembling, Damor has escaped,” said Walker Vince, tired of long conversations.
~
A 19 year old girl sat in her house, bored to death. She had silver, almond-shaped eyes, standing at 5’2 with ghostly pale skin. She was wearing a long, black, sleeved dress and beige boots. Her hair was beautiful: long, wavy, bubblegum pink hair. Fantasma ‘Fantom’ Raeford was still learning magic, her elemental necklace with no colour.
She was reading a book called Gary Once, when there was a sudden knock.
“That must be Fletcher!” she exclaimed, as he was training her, rushing to the door and opening it, only to see the mailman.
“Oh,” she muttered, taking the letter from his hand.
She tore it open as she fell back onto the soft, comfy sofa, and pulled out a piece of paper saying ‘Rendezvous Unguard, Pizza Express Alley, villain has escaped. Lock squad Assembling.’
She smirked when she looked through the window and saw all trace of the mailman was gone.
~
Isaac was standing in an aisle in Mrs Lucra’s small shop. Isaac ‘Newt’ Newton was standing at 5’11 and lanky, but his arms and chest were muscular. His hair was a mess of blonde and he was wearing a hunting cloak, the novice hood pulled down, a grey t-shirt and grey trousers, with black converse. His two daggers, one with a fox on it, one with a wolf, were hidden in his cloak.
Suddenly, a smash of glass could be heard in the shop, as a person in all black and a mask holding an M9 jumped through the window.
“Hand over the money!” they shouted at Mrs Lucra. They wrenched the counter open and gave them the money, just as Isaac put down his basket, walked over and knocked the cash, and a tooth, off them with a punch to the jaw.
The thief tried to shoot, but Isaac grabbed their arm and twisted, forcing them to drop the gun. The thief took two swings, but one was ducked under and one was caught with Isaac’s fist. He headbutted the thief, dropping them to the floor.
He was picking up the cash and giving it to Mrs Lucra, who was used to Isaac saving her from robbers.
Isaac’s phone buzzed. He’d pulled it from his pocket and got the same message the rest of Lock Squad received. Rendezvous Pizza Express Alley, Unguard. Lock Squad Assembling, Damor escaped.
Isaac payed for the stuff he got, picked his bag up and threw his hood over him.
~
A 4’5 boy, wearing all black, the hood on his hoodie over his head, a black mask over his face, ran through the shadows into his fight. He was practically invisible. His necklace, Spirit, a half man-half skull face, was under his hoodie.
Lambert ‘Black Sheep’ Omysha jumped, practically invisible, pulling his black staff off his back, the blades coming out both ends. He stabbed one, then flipped off and swiped at another, blood spilling from their arm.
A big, brawny fist came swinging at them, but he jumped onto their arm and whacked them in the face, then slicing their chest.
He was thrown to the ground by a blast of fire, but he threw his staff, stabbing into their chest, blood soaking into their shirt. He walked over and wrenched the staff from their chest, a text coming on his phone: ‘Rendezvous Pizza Express Alley, Unguard. Damor has escaped. Lock Squad Assembling.’ It was from Shadow.
The blades went into the staff and he silently walked off. War was coming. It was time to act.
As vehicles piled up outside the supposed storage facility, rushing people in unique attire flooded into the buildings, revealing its true form.
Prison. A prison for the worst sorcerers this side of England. The most evil of all the mages: all in one building. A death trap.
Alarms roared violently as the crowd plunged into the maze of corridors, which twisted and turned forever, but they all knew their way.
One man, a suited fellow, was approached by a short, tanned man in red robes, holding a piece of tattered, dusty paper.
“Mr Jardon?” the petite man said in his high pitched voice.
“Ah, Usher. Please, call me Jailer. Anyway, what do we have?” said Jailer. Bruce ‘Jailer’ Jardon was a tall, slender man: an Elemental mage, using his powers to control the four elements, fire, water, earth and air. He had pale skin and deep blue eyes, with neat brown hair, always wearing a suit.
“Well,” squealed Usher, “one of our prisoners has broken out. Damor.”
Bruce’s eyes narrowed in anger. Damor was one of his biggest rivals: he had caught the Dark mage trying to rob a small store on Concrete Road.
“He got out about 7 minutes ago-” claimed Usher, who was cut off as a dagger had sliced viciously through his neck.
Jailers eyes swivelled just as Jim ‘Crow’ Damor tossed a dagger, the tip slicing through the air. Jailer ducked and pulled out a pistol, firing 3 shots at Crow.
Damor flipped in the air, pushing his legs against the wall powerfully and flinging himself through the air, daggers shining in the light. He crashed into Jailer and swiped his dagger, almost cutting Bruce’s forehead open.
Jardon kicked up, throwing a fireball at Jim, which he blocked with his daggers but was flung back. Jardon looked around, to see a terrible sight. Every person in the room was dead.
Unfortunately, he was distracted, and turned his eyes in front of him just as the table smashed into him, knocking him unconscious.
Crow raised his daggers to deal the final blow, until he heard the sound of running. Thirty footsteps. Reinforcements. He jumped to the window, smashing through the glass with his foot like it was a balloon.
“See ya next time, Bruce,” he snickered in his Cockney voice, before leaping through the window and disappearing into the gloomy night.
~
A pale kid hurried down the damp corridor of the mysterious building. He was tall, with skin as pale as a vampire and slim. He had short but thick black hair and piercing blue eyes. He wore a red shirt, black jeans and black trainers.
He burst into the room, another man standing there in a black jacket, white shirt, black trousers and smart black shoes.
The man in the jacket swivelled slightly.
“Yes, Shadow?” questioned the man.
“Well, Mr Davies, Jim ‘Crow’ Damor has escaped from Juler,” he said emotionless. Jacob ‘Elder’ Davies looked up fully at him.
“Call in Lock Squad,” Jacob cried, “Crow has just declared war on the mage world.”
~
Fletcher ‘Strike’ Pine was just about to jump off the roof onto his target, when his phone rang. His ringtone, Centuries by Fallout Boy, was turned down quiet luckily.
He stuck his hand in his pocket and took the phone out, slowly answering the call.
“Yes?” he asked, confused.
“Fletcher, Lock Squad is assembling,” explained Walker ‘Shadow’ Vince.
“Okay, okay…” he moaned sluggishly, “Rendezvous point?”
“Unguard. There’s an alley on the right of a Pizza Express.”
“Gotcha.”
“Don’t be late…”
“When am I late?”
“All the time.”
“That’s the point Walker,” he sniggered, hanging up on the call, stick his phone in his pocket and flipping off the roof.
~
Clove ‘Night’ Woods sat in the trees, waiting for her guy. A single steel arrow was notched into her sleek bow. She was wearing all black: black leggings, tank top, cropped jacket and boots. She was slim and about 5’10, with emerald green eyes with snow white flecks. Her black and purple flowed down to her waist. She had pale skin.
A gang of armed, muscular thugs strolled into the forest area. In the front was Clove’s target: Diego Argola. A tanned man, with short blonde hair and green eyes, a wicked smile across his face, wearing only a grey suit.
“It seems Miss Woods isn’t here,” spoke Diego in a thick Portuguese accent.
Suddenly, Clove’s phone vibrated, giving her away. They all turned their heads to her. She fired the arrow into Diego’s chest, killing him, and leaped onto one of the thugs, tugging at his brown hair.
She pulled his head back and smashed it into another thug’s head, whilst jumping off and blasting two back with a gust of wind.
She launched a fireball into one, throwing knives into two and smashing one of their heads against a tree, cracking his skull wide open.
The last thug sprinted away, but she notched a flaming steel arrow in her bow and shot him in the back of the head, blood leaking onto the grass.
She pulled her phone out and answered it.
“Yes? You just blew my operation,” she moaned into the phone.
“Well, Clove, we have bigger problems,” Vince snapped, “Crow’s escaped from Juler, Lock Squad is getting called in.”
“Rendezvous?” she asked curiously.
“Alley next to the Pizza Express in Unguard.”
“Got it.”
~
Wren wasn’t happy about being tied to the chair. Yet she wanted to be there. Wren Kleos was 5’7, small freckles dotting her fair skin. Her was mid-length and black, space buns dotted around it. She was athletic, and usually wore black, ripped skinny jeans, a black crop top and camo jacket. Her mage necklace, a blood drop carved into metal, was still out, not glowing at all. She was wearing a black dress currently, to go undercover.
“Miss Kleos… you really thought you could evade us?” said one man in a grey t-shirt and black trousers.
“No, not really. Might as well try though, eh Capper?” she smirked.
Capper Est narrowed his eyes, signalling for his henchmen: one, the more intelligent one, to pull the lever and two, the burly one, to attach the chain.
They did so, and Wren was lifted up and over a tank with a Serpent inside. Serpents were dragon-like creatures, like huge water snakes, that could breathe ice blasts.
“Let me ask you something Capper, do you know that some blood mages aren’t affected by trap spells?” she laughed, “I have a cut on my hand. And look! My necklace is glowing!”
A drop of blood trickled down her middle finger and she flicked it at them, transforming it into a see-through cloud of red storm. It shockwaved them back, and she ripped the ropes off her and jumped onto the platform, punching the smart henchman in the face, knocking him back.
The brawny henchman grabbed her and threw her in the tank, but she swam up just before the Serpent got her. She grabbed the platform and pulled, throwing herself and her foot into the burly henchman, knocking him out.
The fight was over after barely a minute, all of them tied up, mages on the way to arrest them.
Her phone vibrated. She answered it and was about to speak when she was cut off.
“Rendezvous Unguard, alley by Pizza Express, Lock squad assembling, Damor has escaped,” said Walker Vince, tired of long conversations.
~
A 19 year old girl sat in her house, bored to death. She had silver, almond-shaped eyes, standing at 5’2 with ghostly pale skin. She was wearing a long, black, sleeved dress and beige boots. Her hair was beautiful: long, wavy, bubblegum pink hair. Fantasma ‘Fantom’ Raeford was still learning magic, her elemental necklace with no colour.
She was reading a book called Gary Once, when there was a sudden knock.
“That must be Fletcher!” she exclaimed, as he was training her, rushing to the door and opening it, only to see the mailman.
“Oh,” she muttered, taking the letter from his hand.
She tore it open as she fell back onto the soft, comfy sofa, and pulled out a piece of paper saying ‘Rendezvous Unguard, Pizza Express Alley, villain has escaped. Lock squad Assembling.’
She smirked when she looked through the window and saw all trace of the mailman was gone.
~
Isaac was standing in an aisle in Mrs Lucra’s small shop. Isaac ‘Newt’ Newton was standing at 5’11 and lanky, but his arms and chest were muscular. His hair was a mess of blonde and he was wearing a hunting cloak, the novice hood pulled down, a grey t-shirt and grey trousers, with black converse. His two daggers, one with a fox on it, one with a wolf, were hidden in his cloak.
Suddenly, a smash of glass could be heard in the shop, as a person in all black and a mask holding an M9 jumped through the window.
“Hand over the money!” they shouted at Mrs Lucra. They wrenched the counter open and gave them the money, just as Isaac put down his basket, walked over and knocked the cash, and a tooth, off them with a punch to the jaw.
The thief tried to shoot, but Isaac grabbed their arm and twisted, forcing them to drop the gun. The thief took two swings, but one was ducked under and one was caught with Isaac’s fist. He headbutted the thief, dropping them to the floor.
He was picking up the cash and giving it to Mrs Lucra, who was used to Isaac saving her from robbers.
Isaac’s phone buzzed. He’d pulled it from his pocket and got the same message the rest of Lock Squad received. Rendezvous Pizza Express Alley, Unguard. Lock Squad Assembling, Damor escaped.
Isaac payed for the stuff he got, picked his bag up and threw his hood over him.
~
A 4’5 boy, wearing all black, the hood on his hoodie over his head, a black mask over his face, ran through the shadows into his fight. He was practically invisible. His necklace, Spirit, a half man-half skull face, was under his hoodie.
Lambert ‘Black Sheep’ Omysha jumped, practically invisible, pulling his black staff off his back, the blades coming out both ends. He stabbed one, then flipped off and swiped at another, blood spilling from their arm.
A big, brawny fist came swinging at them, but he jumped onto their arm and whacked them in the face, then slicing their chest.
He was thrown to the ground by a blast of fire, but he threw his staff, stabbing into their chest, blood soaking into their shirt. He walked over and wrenched the staff from their chest, a text coming on his phone: ‘Rendezvous Pizza Express Alley, Unguard. Damor has escaped. Lock Squad Assembling.’ It was from Shadow.
The blades went into the staff and he silently walked off. War was coming. It was time to act.
Isabelle Jonson tapped her pencil nib on her paper. Who was Walter Raleigh? She sighed, skipping the question. Her history test had gone on for 15 minutes, and she was still struggling.
Isabelle has long brown hair and brown eyes. Freckles dotted her fair skin. She wore the school uniform: a white shirt and blue tie, black trousers and black shoes. Her blazer was draped messily down the back of her chair.
“Alright class, times up!” exclaimed Mrs Connor. It has already been an hour? Isabelle started to sweat, turning her head to 3 girls whispering about her and laughing quietly. Anna Jones, Daisy Field and Libby Howard. The popular girls.
Anna had long blonde hair and blue eyes, the same colour as Daisy, who had black hair, and then Libby, with green eyes and red hair.
Isabelle handed her test paper to Mrs Connor and ran out as the bell rang intensely, clutching her blazer and throwing it on.
Later, she was sat on the bench, on her phone. She was flipping through the 23 missed texts from her mum and just ignored the 16 calls.
Three girls in black skirts walked up her. She raised her eyes slightly. Anna, Daisy and Libby.
“Hey dork,” sniggered the 3 sharply in unison.
“Hello, Bratsy Triplets,” she smirked.
“Ugh,” said Anna, who grabbed Isabelle’s phone and threw it on the ground.
“Don’t call us brats!” she cried, smashing the phone with her foot.
Isabelle got up and pushed her over. A crowd formed around the 4.
Daisy ran at her, but Isabelle swivelled and she ran into Percy Brannigan, a ‘hot jock’ as he was called at Unguard High School.
Libby took a swing with her hand, but Isabelle turned, pushing her into a short girl with brown hair. Isabelle walked off, broken phone in hand.
~
“Isabelle, you cannot keep doing this,” stated Principal Domly sharply. Derek Domly was a tall man with short brown hair and a bald spot, glasses, and lots of spots.
“Not trying to, those girls need to get in line,” Isabelle blankly said.
“You didn’t have to attack them…” he retaliated.
“They broke my phone and they attacked me first.”
“Isabelle…” Suddenly, a noise pierced through the school, the bell.
“Gotta go!” Isabelle smiled, and left through the office door.
She put her grey earphones in and got out her phone, putting Angel with a Shotgun on. She pushed the gate back and walked off.
A woosh is what Isabelle heard before she was slapped in the face by Libby Howard. The leg of Anna hit her in the thigh and Daisy’s elbow hit her chest. She jumped back.
“You’re gonna pay,” blurted out Anna scarily, punching their chest.
It was strange when a man in a brown jacket and black jeans and red shoes walked up and said, “Break it up.”
He had short black hair and pale skin and just before Libby punched Isabelle, he grabbed their fist instantly. He dropped her fist and left, giving time for Isabelle to sprint away. Who was that?
~
Clove Woods and Isaac Newton walked slowly to the train station in London.
“Why do I have to wear this?” asked Clove grumpily, looking down at her red dress dotted with yellow flowers, and orange sandals, hair in a plate.
“To make you look normal,” stated Isaac emotionless, wearing a blue Avengers Infinity War t-shirt, skinny jeans and white trainers.
“I thought this was a spell,” she whispered, “why is it still tight?”
“So you don’t give away the spell,” he again stated, eyes narrowing.
The train stopped in front of them and they got on, sitting in two teal seats with a red table in front of them.
A middle-aged couple sat down in the seats across from them, the woman slim, blonde hair, wearing a white dress and her husband, a chubby man, wearing a suit.
They started chatting as Clove looked over to see Isaac listening to My Chemical Romance.
Clove and Isaac had already met, back when Lock Squad first began, but when they were both in London so they could get to Unguard, they had bumped into each other, and went along together.
Hours later, the train stopped at Unguard. Clove and Isaac got up, only to get back down when a man wearing a suit walked down, a blade of black stone in his hand.
“Woods! Newton! Come out!” they shouted.
Clove and Isaac got up, their clothes transforming. Isaac’s clothes turned into his hunting cloak and grey shirt, with grey trousers and black trainers. Clove’s dress burned off, a layer of all black clothes spreading across her. Her plate fell apart into her regular hair.
The man grabbed his face and pulled it off in a grey wisp, revealing a burnt red face. Robert ‘Burnt’ Minsky. He ran at them, throwing black blades.
Isaac jumped, knives out, while Clove fired a steel arrow. Minsky created a black shield and blocked the arrow, jumping back onto the floor from Isaac’s knife.
He flung a blade at Isaac and Clove. Clove jumped over… but the blade went through Isaac.
Isaac leaped straight through Minsky’s body and grabbed his suit collar, stabbing him in the middle of his back.
He ejected the knife and Minsky fell back, groaning in pain.
Isaac jumped for the kill, but Minsky disappeared in a flood of darkness.
He looked over to Clove, who was mind-wiping all the humans on the train. They both got off the train , disguises forming around them and disappearing.
~
Wren looked out over Unguard, her face blank. She knelt down, feeling the warm spring air blow her air around wildly.
A buzz filled her pocket. She grabbed her phone and answered.
“Who is this?” questioned Wren sternly.
“It’s me,” blankly said Aaron ‘Chain’ Davies.
“What do you want Davies?” grunted Wren.
“I need you here at the warehouse on 2nd Avenue, an… associate of Crow, it seems.”
“Got it, on my way.” Wren sprinted across the roof and jumped across to the next building, pulling her long scythe off her back and stabbing it into the roof’s edge, flinging herself onto the next building.
About 2 minutes later she burst into the warehouse, to find a woman standing there, long red hair, red eyes, wearing a black armoured tank top, black trousers and black boots. Her skin was tanned.
Wren pulled her hammer and scythe off her back, throwing the scythe at the woman. A black swarm came from her back and formed two tentacles, grabbing the scythe. With a burst of light the scythe snapped in half.
“Damn,” she muttered under her breath. She ran at the woman with her warhammer out jumping above her. The woman sprouted about fifty black tentacles.
One tentacle grabbed Wren’s warhammer, but she let go and leaped to kick the woman. Another tentacle threw her at the wall as she grabbed the hammer. Wren smashed her hammer into the wall and kicked off, hitting the woman in the chest with the top of the hammer.
She flipped kicking a tentacle away, before getting grabbed by another and thrown to the ground over and over. Wren let a single blood drop come from her palm and she blasted a beam of red energy at the tentacles, throwing them all back. Wren threw a red fireball and jumped, kicking the woman and throwing the hammer at her. The hammer was caught and thrown away.
Wren mustered up enough blood and threw a crimson storm at them, blasting them back. The woman grabbed the window and burst out, running away.
~
Lambert watched as the fight unfolded. A huge, burly creature in black and red armour, spikes sticking out of everywhere, red and black skin, a helmet draped on their head, a dome shape. A huge axe dotted with red smashed onto the ground and Walker flipped back to avoid the blast.
Walker jumped and kicked them, no effect. He punched them, no effect. The creature backhanded them across the street into the ground. Luckily, everybody was gone for the parade.
Walker pulled out their duel swords, sprinting forward. The creature swung the axe with one hand, missing, yet smashing their elbow down to hit Walker, before kicking them in the chest.
Lambert had met this creature once, a while back. Their name was Axel Anderson. They weren’t a sorcerer, but they were descended from Lord Cane, who wore the black and red armour once. Luckily, because Axel was related, when he found it and put it on, he fit perfectly and didn’t die, but morphed into this beast.
Walker jumped back, avoiding another axe swing, when he heard a voice in his head.
Walker, it’s me, Lambert. I added an enchantment to your swords while you weren’t looking, go for any bare skin.
Walker had questions, but slid under Axel, jumping up and stabbing through their neck.
Normally, Axel’s skin was tougher than metal, but with the enchantment, it sliced through like butter.
Axell suddenly disappeared in a red mist, dropping the swords to the ground.
“What the…” mumbled Walker.
Lambert walked off, satisfied that he’d helped.
Isabelle has long brown hair and brown eyes. Freckles dotted her fair skin. She wore the school uniform: a white shirt and blue tie, black trousers and black shoes. Her blazer was draped messily down the back of her chair.
“Alright class, times up!” exclaimed Mrs Connor. It has already been an hour? Isabelle started to sweat, turning her head to 3 girls whispering about her and laughing quietly. Anna Jones, Daisy Field and Libby Howard. The popular girls.
Anna had long blonde hair and blue eyes, the same colour as Daisy, who had black hair, and then Libby, with green eyes and red hair.
Isabelle handed her test paper to Mrs Connor and ran out as the bell rang intensely, clutching her blazer and throwing it on.
Later, she was sat on the bench, on her phone. She was flipping through the 23 missed texts from her mum and just ignored the 16 calls.
Three girls in black skirts walked up her. She raised her eyes slightly. Anna, Daisy and Libby.
“Hey dork,” sniggered the 3 sharply in unison.
“Hello, Bratsy Triplets,” she smirked.
“Ugh,” said Anna, who grabbed Isabelle’s phone and threw it on the ground.
“Don’t call us brats!” she cried, smashing the phone with her foot.
Isabelle got up and pushed her over. A crowd formed around the 4.
Daisy ran at her, but Isabelle swivelled and she ran into Percy Brannigan, a ‘hot jock’ as he was called at Unguard High School.
Libby took a swing with her hand, but Isabelle turned, pushing her into a short girl with brown hair. Isabelle walked off, broken phone in hand.
~
“Isabelle, you cannot keep doing this,” stated Principal Domly sharply. Derek Domly was a tall man with short brown hair and a bald spot, glasses, and lots of spots.
“Not trying to, those girls need to get in line,” Isabelle blankly said.
“You didn’t have to attack them…” he retaliated.
“They broke my phone and they attacked me first.”
“Isabelle…” Suddenly, a noise pierced through the school, the bell.
“Gotta go!” Isabelle smiled, and left through the office door.
She put her grey earphones in and got out her phone, putting Angel with a Shotgun on. She pushed the gate back and walked off.
A woosh is what Isabelle heard before she was slapped in the face by Libby Howard. The leg of Anna hit her in the thigh and Daisy’s elbow hit her chest. She jumped back.
“You’re gonna pay,” blurted out Anna scarily, punching their chest.
It was strange when a man in a brown jacket and black jeans and red shoes walked up and said, “Break it up.”
He had short black hair and pale skin and just before Libby punched Isabelle, he grabbed their fist instantly. He dropped her fist and left, giving time for Isabelle to sprint away. Who was that?
~
Clove Woods and Isaac Newton walked slowly to the train station in London.
“Why do I have to wear this?” asked Clove grumpily, looking down at her red dress dotted with yellow flowers, and orange sandals, hair in a plate.
“To make you look normal,” stated Isaac emotionless, wearing a blue Avengers Infinity War t-shirt, skinny jeans and white trainers.
“I thought this was a spell,” she whispered, “why is it still tight?”
“So you don’t give away the spell,” he again stated, eyes narrowing.
The train stopped in front of them and they got on, sitting in two teal seats with a red table in front of them.
A middle-aged couple sat down in the seats across from them, the woman slim, blonde hair, wearing a white dress and her husband, a chubby man, wearing a suit.
They started chatting as Clove looked over to see Isaac listening to My Chemical Romance.
Clove and Isaac had already met, back when Lock Squad first began, but when they were both in London so they could get to Unguard, they had bumped into each other, and went along together.
Hours later, the train stopped at Unguard. Clove and Isaac got up, only to get back down when a man wearing a suit walked down, a blade of black stone in his hand.
“Woods! Newton! Come out!” they shouted.
Clove and Isaac got up, their clothes transforming. Isaac’s clothes turned into his hunting cloak and grey shirt, with grey trousers and black trainers. Clove’s dress burned off, a layer of all black clothes spreading across her. Her plate fell apart into her regular hair.
The man grabbed his face and pulled it off in a grey wisp, revealing a burnt red face. Robert ‘Burnt’ Minsky. He ran at them, throwing black blades.
Isaac jumped, knives out, while Clove fired a steel arrow. Minsky created a black shield and blocked the arrow, jumping back onto the floor from Isaac’s knife.
He flung a blade at Isaac and Clove. Clove jumped over… but the blade went through Isaac.
Isaac leaped straight through Minsky’s body and grabbed his suit collar, stabbing him in the middle of his back.
He ejected the knife and Minsky fell back, groaning in pain.
Isaac jumped for the kill, but Minsky disappeared in a flood of darkness.
He looked over to Clove, who was mind-wiping all the humans on the train. They both got off the train , disguises forming around them and disappearing.
~
Wren looked out over Unguard, her face blank. She knelt down, feeling the warm spring air blow her air around wildly.
A buzz filled her pocket. She grabbed her phone and answered.
“Who is this?” questioned Wren sternly.
“It’s me,” blankly said Aaron ‘Chain’ Davies.
“What do you want Davies?” grunted Wren.
“I need you here at the warehouse on 2nd Avenue, an… associate of Crow, it seems.”
“Got it, on my way.” Wren sprinted across the roof and jumped across to the next building, pulling her long scythe off her back and stabbing it into the roof’s edge, flinging herself onto the next building.
About 2 minutes later she burst into the warehouse, to find a woman standing there, long red hair, red eyes, wearing a black armoured tank top, black trousers and black boots. Her skin was tanned.
Wren pulled her hammer and scythe off her back, throwing the scythe at the woman. A black swarm came from her back and formed two tentacles, grabbing the scythe. With a burst of light the scythe snapped in half.
“Damn,” she muttered under her breath. She ran at the woman with her warhammer out jumping above her. The woman sprouted about fifty black tentacles.
One tentacle grabbed Wren’s warhammer, but she let go and leaped to kick the woman. Another tentacle threw her at the wall as she grabbed the hammer. Wren smashed her hammer into the wall and kicked off, hitting the woman in the chest with the top of the hammer.
She flipped kicking a tentacle away, before getting grabbed by another and thrown to the ground over and over. Wren let a single blood drop come from her palm and she blasted a beam of red energy at the tentacles, throwing them all back. Wren threw a red fireball and jumped, kicking the woman and throwing the hammer at her. The hammer was caught and thrown away.
Wren mustered up enough blood and threw a crimson storm at them, blasting them back. The woman grabbed the window and burst out, running away.
~
Lambert watched as the fight unfolded. A huge, burly creature in black and red armour, spikes sticking out of everywhere, red and black skin, a helmet draped on their head, a dome shape. A huge axe dotted with red smashed onto the ground and Walker flipped back to avoid the blast.
Walker jumped and kicked them, no effect. He punched them, no effect. The creature backhanded them across the street into the ground. Luckily, everybody was gone for the parade.
Walker pulled out their duel swords, sprinting forward. The creature swung the axe with one hand, missing, yet smashing their elbow down to hit Walker, before kicking them in the chest.
Lambert had met this creature once, a while back. Their name was Axel Anderson. They weren’t a sorcerer, but they were descended from Lord Cane, who wore the black and red armour once. Luckily, because Axel was related, when he found it and put it on, he fit perfectly and didn’t die, but morphed into this beast.
Walker jumped back, avoiding another axe swing, when he heard a voice in his head.
Walker, it’s me, Lambert. I added an enchantment to your swords while you weren’t looking, go for any bare skin.
Walker had questions, but slid under Axel, jumping up and stabbing through their neck.
Normally, Axel’s skin was tougher than metal, but with the enchantment, it sliced through like butter.
Axell suddenly disappeared in a red mist, dropping the swords to the ground.
“What the…” mumbled Walker.
Lambert walked off, satisfied that he’d helped.
It was dark in Unguard. Isabelle was walking back home, when she was pulled into the alley next to Pizza Express by two guys.
“Hey little lady,” one smirked.
“What are you doing out here?” another moaned. They were clearly drunk.
“Let me go!” Isabelle screeched, but they held on firmly.
“Come on, give us a kiss!” said the third, laughing wildly.
“Excuse me gentlemen,” said a man behind them, a scythe strapped to his back, wearing a white shirt, red converse and black trousers. He wore a brown jacket over his shirt. His skin was pale and he had short black hair.
Next to him was a girl, kind of short, with long, wavy, bubblegum pink hair. They wore a shadow black dress with long sleeves and beige boots. Their eyes were silver.
“Can you let go of her, please?” asked Fletcher.
“It would be nice for… Elizabeth?” said Fantasma.
“Isabelle,” blurted out Isabelle.
“Who are you to talk?” mumbled the first drunk, the other two walking up behind him. Isabelle wasn’t running. She wanted to see this. She knew that was the same guy who grabbed Libby’s fist the other day.
“Fletcher Pine,” smiled Fletcher, and looked over to Fantasma.
“Fantasma RaeFord,” smiled Fantasma.
One drunk swung a fist at Fletcher but he caught it and threw it back into their own face. Fantasma pulled out their katana and hit another drunk with the handle.
The last drunk pounced on Fletcher, but he pulled his scythe out and cut the drunk’s leg in the curve, flinging him at the wall, knocking him out.
The first drunk grabbed Fantasma and threw them down, grabbing their katana and about to stab Fletcher with it, when a black staff hit the side of their head and knocked them unconscious.
They wore a black hoodie and had curly white hair with a yellow and green snowflake pin in it. They wore black shoes and trousers, and a black mask over their face.
The final drunk was pushed over by a tall, pale, skinny kid holding two dual swords. They had piercing blue eyes and a mess of black hair.
“Izzy, this is Walker and Lambert. Don’t look at Lambert, he doesn’t like it,” Fantasma stated in a blank voice.
A girl with fair skin and an athletic body type jumped down, holding a warhammer in their hand. They had black hair dotted with space buns, and grey eyes.
“Wren,” greeted Fletcher.
“Fletcher. Lambert. Walker. Fantasma. Whoever you are,” greeted Wren blankly.
Two people strolled up to the alley. One wore a blue Infinity War t-shirt with white trainers and skinny jeans, the other wore orange sandals, their hair in a plate, and a red dress with yellow flowers.
“Clove, Isaac, what are you both wearing?” chuckled Walker.
“He made us. It’s a spell,” groaned Clove, pointing to Isaac.
“What? It worked,” stated Isaac, “well, apart from that encounter.”
“What?” requested Fletcher hardly.
“We were attacked by a guy in a suit with a red face and a Ghost Mask,” spoke Clove.
“I was called in to fight an associate of Crow,” replied Wren, “red eyes, long red hair, black clothes, tan skin. Black tentacles coming from her back. She broke my scythe.”
“I had to fight a giant armoured, red-black skinned super beast,” interrupted Walker, “Lambert was watching from somewhere above.”
A voice echoed in all of their heads except Isabelle’s. It’s true.
Isabelle’s jaw was wide open.
“A what?” cried Isabelle.
They all turned to her.
“Damn, she’s still here,” muttered Fantasma.
“Well, I got this,” said Clove, the mind wiping glow in her palm, “don’t worry, you’ll just forget everything that happened here.”
“No!” Isabelle screamed and pushed Clove back.
“Let her have her memories Clove,” sighed Fletcher.
Suddenly, a loud sound echoed through the street. Electricity danced in the square at midnight. A portal opened up, three people dropping from it. One was the woman Wren had thought earlier.
One had tanned skin and a quiff of brown hair, a wicked smile, and metallic eyes. They wore the same as the woman.
The other was human shaped, but wind swirled around them, like they were made of a tornado! They were made of nothing but swirling air, a blank face.
“Izzy, back up,” said Fantasma, as she made a few sparks in her hand and a small flame, but couldn’t make a fireball.
Fletcher lit Fantasma’s sword on fire for her, as Wren conjured an orb of red energy, Lambert pulled his staff out, Walker got into a stance, and Isaac and Clove’s clothes melted into their regular attire. Grey cloak, hood, shirt and trousers for Isaac, all black for Clove.
Isaac pulled his daggers out and Clove took a flaming steel arrow out, notching it into her bow.
The tanned man spoke. “This’ll be fun."
“Hey little lady,” one smirked.
“What are you doing out here?” another moaned. They were clearly drunk.
“Let me go!” Isabelle screeched, but they held on firmly.
“Come on, give us a kiss!” said the third, laughing wildly.
“Excuse me gentlemen,” said a man behind them, a scythe strapped to his back, wearing a white shirt, red converse and black trousers. He wore a brown jacket over his shirt. His skin was pale and he had short black hair.
Next to him was a girl, kind of short, with long, wavy, bubblegum pink hair. They wore a shadow black dress with long sleeves and beige boots. Their eyes were silver.
“Can you let go of her, please?” asked Fletcher.
“It would be nice for… Elizabeth?” said Fantasma.
“Isabelle,” blurted out Isabelle.
“Who are you to talk?” mumbled the first drunk, the other two walking up behind him. Isabelle wasn’t running. She wanted to see this. She knew that was the same guy who grabbed Libby’s fist the other day.
“Fletcher Pine,” smiled Fletcher, and looked over to Fantasma.
“Fantasma RaeFord,” smiled Fantasma.
One drunk swung a fist at Fletcher but he caught it and threw it back into their own face. Fantasma pulled out their katana and hit another drunk with the handle.
The last drunk pounced on Fletcher, but he pulled his scythe out and cut the drunk’s leg in the curve, flinging him at the wall, knocking him out.
The first drunk grabbed Fantasma and threw them down, grabbing their katana and about to stab Fletcher with it, when a black staff hit the side of their head and knocked them unconscious.
They wore a black hoodie and had curly white hair with a yellow and green snowflake pin in it. They wore black shoes and trousers, and a black mask over their face.
The final drunk was pushed over by a tall, pale, skinny kid holding two dual swords. They had piercing blue eyes and a mess of black hair.
“Izzy, this is Walker and Lambert. Don’t look at Lambert, he doesn’t like it,” Fantasma stated in a blank voice.
A girl with fair skin and an athletic body type jumped down, holding a warhammer in their hand. They had black hair dotted with space buns, and grey eyes.
“Wren,” greeted Fletcher.
“Fletcher. Lambert. Walker. Fantasma. Whoever you are,” greeted Wren blankly.
Two people strolled up to the alley. One wore a blue Infinity War t-shirt with white trainers and skinny jeans, the other wore orange sandals, their hair in a plate, and a red dress with yellow flowers.
“Clove, Isaac, what are you both wearing?” chuckled Walker.
“He made us. It’s a spell,” groaned Clove, pointing to Isaac.
“What? It worked,” stated Isaac, “well, apart from that encounter.”
“What?” requested Fletcher hardly.
“We were attacked by a guy in a suit with a red face and a Ghost Mask,” spoke Clove.
“I was called in to fight an associate of Crow,” replied Wren, “red eyes, long red hair, black clothes, tan skin. Black tentacles coming from her back. She broke my scythe.”
“I had to fight a giant armoured, red-black skinned super beast,” interrupted Walker, “Lambert was watching from somewhere above.”
A voice echoed in all of their heads except Isabelle’s. It’s true.
Isabelle’s jaw was wide open.
“A what?” cried Isabelle.
They all turned to her.
“Damn, she’s still here,” muttered Fantasma.
“Well, I got this,” said Clove, the mind wiping glow in her palm, “don’t worry, you’ll just forget everything that happened here.”
“No!” Isabelle screamed and pushed Clove back.
“Let her have her memories Clove,” sighed Fletcher.
Suddenly, a loud sound echoed through the street. Electricity danced in the square at midnight. A portal opened up, three people dropping from it. One was the woman Wren had thought earlier.
One had tanned skin and a quiff of brown hair, a wicked smile, and metallic eyes. They wore the same as the woman.
The other was human shaped, but wind swirled around them, like they were made of a tornado! They were made of nothing but swirling air, a blank face.
“Izzy, back up,” said Fantasma, as she made a few sparks in her hand and a small flame, but couldn’t make a fireball.
Fletcher lit Fantasma’s sword on fire for her, as Wren conjured an orb of red energy, Lambert pulled his staff out, Walker got into a stance, and Isaac and Clove’s clothes melted into their regular attire. Grey cloak, hood, shirt and trousers for Isaac, all black for Clove.
Isaac pulled his daggers out and Clove took a flaming steel arrow out, notching it into her bow.
The tanned man spoke. “This’ll be fun."
“This is an old trick I picked up in Slovakia,” smirked Walker, darkness coming from his splayed hands, plunging the square into black.
Except Isabelle, they all sprinted swiftly forward. Lambert released the blades from his staff and threw a swing at the woman, but a black tentacle flung him aside.
The tanned man with the quiff shot about forty metal blades into the air from his body, the tips cutting through the darkness. Clove and Fletcher used a blast of wind to knock them back.
A sound of a tornado burst through the square as wind spiralled around the three villains, bursting cold, whirling air into the sky.
Two hands of wind crashed down on the square, knocking them all back.
A grey energy melted around Isaac and he ran through the now solid hands of wind and into the tornado. Four tentacles slashed through the air and down at him, but he jumped onto one and the others fazed through him. Hundreds of tentacles slashed at him.
They all fazed through, and some he jumped on, but then Isaac realised. He peered behind just as the tanned man created a blade of metal and pierced it through Isaac’s stomach, kicking him out of the tornado.
Walker ran, Fantasma behind them, and jumped extremely high, grabbing Isaac and falling with him.
“I got this!” yelled Walker shakily, “finish them off!”
Fletcher’s eyes darted to his scythe and he pressed his index and middle finger against it, blue symbols glowing around it.
“Wren!” he screamed.
Wren’s eyes looked at him.
“Hit my scythe into the tornado!” he screeched over the howl of the tornado.
Wren nodded, smashing her hammer against the scythe as Fletcher threw it up.
A burst of blue came from the tornado, and the woman, the tornado man and the tanned man all fell, disappearing mid-fall.
Isabelle’s eyes were wide open, but her mouth curved into a smile.
“That was cool,” she whispered to herself.
~
“So.. magic exists,” Fletcher stated to Isabelle.
“Okay…” she replied.
“You can be born with magic, or have learnt it. Those that are born with it are much more powerful. Why Clove is better than me.”
Isabelle nodded.
“There are 7 types of magic: Elemental, which is me, Clove and Fantasma, Spirit, which is Lambert, Blood which is Wren, War is Isaac, Dark is Walker and there’s light, that none of us have,” Fletcher explained.
“You can see somebody’s magic by their necklace. Mine is this.” He showed Isabelle a circle: one quarter an rock like surface, one water, one fire and one air.
“Spirit is a human face, the other half a skull, Blood is a blood drop, Dark is a swirl, Light is a star and War is a sword.”
“Elemental can control the four elements, earth, water, fire and air. Spirit can talk to alive or dead spirits, and summon dead spirits to attack. Blood can use their blood and form them into attack states, like energy. Dark gives you enhanced speed, strength, flexibility, and the ability to sense energy. Light is the opposite, enhanced intelligence, tactics, reason, and can see further. War lets you shift your gravity onto walls and ceilings, and also the ability to faze through objects,” Fletcher finished, out of breath.
“Wow,” Isabelle smirked.
Except Isabelle, they all sprinted swiftly forward. Lambert released the blades from his staff and threw a swing at the woman, but a black tentacle flung him aside.
The tanned man with the quiff shot about forty metal blades into the air from his body, the tips cutting through the darkness. Clove and Fletcher used a blast of wind to knock them back.
A sound of a tornado burst through the square as wind spiralled around the three villains, bursting cold, whirling air into the sky.
Two hands of wind crashed down on the square, knocking them all back.
A grey energy melted around Isaac and he ran through the now solid hands of wind and into the tornado. Four tentacles slashed through the air and down at him, but he jumped onto one and the others fazed through him. Hundreds of tentacles slashed at him.
They all fazed through, and some he jumped on, but then Isaac realised. He peered behind just as the tanned man created a blade of metal and pierced it through Isaac’s stomach, kicking him out of the tornado.
Walker ran, Fantasma behind them, and jumped extremely high, grabbing Isaac and falling with him.
“I got this!” yelled Walker shakily, “finish them off!”
Fletcher’s eyes darted to his scythe and he pressed his index and middle finger against it, blue symbols glowing around it.
“Wren!” he screamed.
Wren’s eyes looked at him.
“Hit my scythe into the tornado!” he screeched over the howl of the tornado.
Wren nodded, smashing her hammer against the scythe as Fletcher threw it up.
A burst of blue came from the tornado, and the woman, the tornado man and the tanned man all fell, disappearing mid-fall.
Isabelle’s eyes were wide open, but her mouth curved into a smile.
“That was cool,” she whispered to herself.
~
“So.. magic exists,” Fletcher stated to Isabelle.
“Okay…” she replied.
“You can be born with magic, or have learnt it. Those that are born with it are much more powerful. Why Clove is better than me.”
Isabelle nodded.
“There are 7 types of magic: Elemental, which is me, Clove and Fantasma, Spirit, which is Lambert, Blood which is Wren, War is Isaac, Dark is Walker and there’s light, that none of us have,” Fletcher explained.
“You can see somebody’s magic by their necklace. Mine is this.” He showed Isabelle a circle: one quarter an rock like surface, one water, one fire and one air.
“Spirit is a human face, the other half a skull, Blood is a blood drop, Dark is a swirl, Light is a star and War is a sword.”
“Elemental can control the four elements, earth, water, fire and air. Spirit can talk to alive or dead spirits, and summon dead spirits to attack. Blood can use their blood and form them into attack states, like energy. Dark gives you enhanced speed, strength, flexibility, and the ability to sense energy. Light is the opposite, enhanced intelligence, tactics, reason, and can see further. War lets you shift your gravity onto walls and ceilings, and also the ability to faze through objects,” Fletcher finished, out of breath.
“Wow,” Isabelle smirked.
Jim Damor sat on his seat, his face in a state of fear.
“Is your team ready?” a deep voice terrifyingly asked from the dark and gloom.
“Y-yes,” replied Damor, who had never been more scared.
“Good,” the darkness spat, “now, let’s begin.”
~
Isaac was rushed to a house on 3rd Street in the back of Fletcher’s car.
When they arrived, Walker picked Isaac up and pounded on the door. A man with brown hair and a lab coat opened the door and let them inside.
Isaac was set down on a blue table, the doctor grabbing his tools.
“What stabbed him?” he requested, bewildered.
“Some blade from some dude’s arm,” Walker replied.
“What did it look like?” he snapped.
“Geez… um… it was like steel…” Walker explained quietly.
“I have one of the daggers he threw still…” Clove said, pulling it out from her pocket and laying it on the table. The doctor picked it up and examined it.
“Greylight steel!” he shouted, and grabbed a syringe with a blue liquid.
He injected it into Isaac’s arm, the liquid could be seen filling Isaac’s veins and dissolving, going to the stab wound.
Pain filled and twisted Isaac’s body as the wound repaired, the crisp temperature making him twitch around and shriek violently.
~
Two hours later, Isaac came out, his wound dully glowing blue.
They all rushed up to him, except Isabelle, who was there for whatever reason.
She looked down at the magazine she was given.
“Are you okay?” Wren dully asked.
“Yeah…” Isaac replied.
“Well, we better get back to base…” Fletcher stated, blankly.
Lambert nodded, along with the others and walked out. Isabelle was curious, and went along with them.
~
Robert Minsky, Axel Anderson, the tornado man, the tanned man and the red haired woman were standing in a warehouse with Crow in front of them.
“You all failed?” he questioned. They all nodded.
“How hard can this be?” screamed Crow, “they’re young adults! One can barely use magic yet!”
The entire group awkwardly looked around.
“I thought, maybe, if I got Robert Minsky, Axel Anderson, Mary Jones and the Ross twins, then we might take them down! But no… they beat you.”
Mary spoke up, “Alec stabbed one of them,” she said, gesturing to the tanned man.
“That won’t kill them! They’ll get that doctor to help- Wait,” Crow said, smiling.
“There’s your next target. That magical doctor in Unguard. 3rd Street, big red house. Go get them. Alec and Jake, you get him,” Crow told them, “and bring them to me.”
~
“Are we there yet?” asked Isabelle, who was quite bored. They were all sitting in Fletcher’s new BMW X1. Isabelle, Lambert and Fantasma had to sit above Clove, Isaac and Walker in the back.
“No. But, how about some music?” questioned Fletcher, turning on the radio. Justin Bieber.
“When hell freezes over,” Wren shouted over the music from the passenger seat. Fletcher switched the stations and Taylor Swift ‘Shake It Off’ started playing.
“Ooh I like this one!” Fantasma said. Everyone else shouted ‘NO’ except Lambert, who shook his head violently. Fletcher switched the station and Ollie Murs poured from the speakers.
“Y’know what, no music,” he said, punching the button to turn it off.
Isaac whispered something to Walker and they both laughed.
Finally, they arrived at this ‘base’. A house. It was black with brown and grey scattered all over its surface. They all strolled inside, Fletcher unlocking the door.
“Welcome, to my house,” Fletcher smiled.
“Is your team ready?” a deep voice terrifyingly asked from the dark and gloom.
“Y-yes,” replied Damor, who had never been more scared.
“Good,” the darkness spat, “now, let’s begin.”
~
Isaac was rushed to a house on 3rd Street in the back of Fletcher’s car.
When they arrived, Walker picked Isaac up and pounded on the door. A man with brown hair and a lab coat opened the door and let them inside.
Isaac was set down on a blue table, the doctor grabbing his tools.
“What stabbed him?” he requested, bewildered.
“Some blade from some dude’s arm,” Walker replied.
“What did it look like?” he snapped.
“Geez… um… it was like steel…” Walker explained quietly.
“I have one of the daggers he threw still…” Clove said, pulling it out from her pocket and laying it on the table. The doctor picked it up and examined it.
“Greylight steel!” he shouted, and grabbed a syringe with a blue liquid.
He injected it into Isaac’s arm, the liquid could be seen filling Isaac’s veins and dissolving, going to the stab wound.
Pain filled and twisted Isaac’s body as the wound repaired, the crisp temperature making him twitch around and shriek violently.
~
Two hours later, Isaac came out, his wound dully glowing blue.
They all rushed up to him, except Isabelle, who was there for whatever reason.
She looked down at the magazine she was given.
“Are you okay?” Wren dully asked.
“Yeah…” Isaac replied.
“Well, we better get back to base…” Fletcher stated, blankly.
Lambert nodded, along with the others and walked out. Isabelle was curious, and went along with them.
~
Robert Minsky, Axel Anderson, the tornado man, the tanned man and the red haired woman were standing in a warehouse with Crow in front of them.
“You all failed?” he questioned. They all nodded.
“How hard can this be?” screamed Crow, “they’re young adults! One can barely use magic yet!”
The entire group awkwardly looked around.
“I thought, maybe, if I got Robert Minsky, Axel Anderson, Mary Jones and the Ross twins, then we might take them down! But no… they beat you.”
Mary spoke up, “Alec stabbed one of them,” she said, gesturing to the tanned man.
“That won’t kill them! They’ll get that doctor to help- Wait,” Crow said, smiling.
“There’s your next target. That magical doctor in Unguard. 3rd Street, big red house. Go get them. Alec and Jake, you get him,” Crow told them, “and bring them to me.”
~
“Are we there yet?” asked Isabelle, who was quite bored. They were all sitting in Fletcher’s new BMW X1. Isabelle, Lambert and Fantasma had to sit above Clove, Isaac and Walker in the back.
“No. But, how about some music?” questioned Fletcher, turning on the radio. Justin Bieber.
“When hell freezes over,” Wren shouted over the music from the passenger seat. Fletcher switched the stations and Taylor Swift ‘Shake It Off’ started playing.
“Ooh I like this one!” Fantasma said. Everyone else shouted ‘NO’ except Lambert, who shook his head violently. Fletcher switched the station and Ollie Murs poured from the speakers.
“Y’know what, no music,” he said, punching the button to turn it off.
Isaac whispered something to Walker and they both laughed.
Finally, they arrived at this ‘base’. A house. It was black with brown and grey scattered all over its surface. They all strolled inside, Fletcher unlocking the door.
“Welcome, to my house,” Fletcher smiled.
Everyone went their separate ways.
Isaac limped to the sofa with Walker, who turned the TV on. Clove and Lambert went to the kitchen, Clove opening the fridge. Wren ran upstairs to the bathroom, Fantasma walked over to the white computer, and Fletcher went to his bedroom for something.
“You guys can all stay here for the night!” Fletcher yelled loudly from upstairs. Isabelle checked her watch and her eyes widened.
“Oh my god, I gotta get home, my parents will kill me,” she said.
Clove replied with “No…” and handed her an ornate box. It had golden lines and swirls, black and green and blue and red patterns with a strange blue eye on the top.
She took Isabelle’s hand and placed it on the box.
“Say ‘open’,” Clove told her.
“Open?” Isabelle said, and the eye illuminated with pink light. Suddenly, it opened. Clove poured some dust in the box, the same colour as the memory wiping energy. She then closed it.
“Say open whenever your parents are mad at you, it’ll wipe their memories. Not all of them, but the ones of you being out too long.”
Isabelle nodded, and suddenly Fletcher strolled back down the stairs. He held a stone tablet, with N, Ne, E, Se, S, Sw, W and Nw written on it. In the centre was a dome with a sphere on top. Coming from the sphere was a small spike pointing up.
The other item was simply a metal plate with a circle carved into the middle. He put it down upon the ground and pressed the circle, the plate glowing.
“What are those?” Isabelle questioned.
“They’re relics. The circle one is a tracker, the plate fixes stuff,” explained Walker, as Wren put the remnants of her scythe on the plate.
Relics are enchanted objects. These words echoed in Isabelle’s head and she guessed it was Lambert.
Blue light burst from the plate, two tentacles grabbing each of the scythe pieces and snapping them together, fixing them.
“This isn’t a powerful relic, so your enchantment has faded,” Fletcher said as Wren picked her scythe up and disappeared.
“She is sneaky, isn’t she?” asked Isabelle. Everyone nodded.
“Wait… why is his house the base?” Isabelle asked again.
“It’s the biggest,” replied Isaac, who got up and limped to the kitchen.
“Fantom, Isabelle, you two have to go to bed!” Fletcher yelled. They both groaned and ran upstairs.
~
The doctor sat in his armchair, a whiskey in his hand. It was 10:00pm and all was silent.
It was a surprise when the door flew open and 5 people walked in. A sudden metal blade sliced through the air, the tip piercing his heart.
Crow’s squad looked around. They looked under tables, through drawers, in cupboards, everywhere.
They finally all crowded around a drawer as Alec Ross ripped the drawer out, the house bathing in a purple glow suddenly.
“Oh…” said Alec, smirking, “boss is gonna be very pleased with us.”
Isaac limped to the sofa with Walker, who turned the TV on. Clove and Lambert went to the kitchen, Clove opening the fridge. Wren ran upstairs to the bathroom, Fantasma walked over to the white computer, and Fletcher went to his bedroom for something.
“You guys can all stay here for the night!” Fletcher yelled loudly from upstairs. Isabelle checked her watch and her eyes widened.
“Oh my god, I gotta get home, my parents will kill me,” she said.
Clove replied with “No…” and handed her an ornate box. It had golden lines and swirls, black and green and blue and red patterns with a strange blue eye on the top.
She took Isabelle’s hand and placed it on the box.
“Say ‘open’,” Clove told her.
“Open?” Isabelle said, and the eye illuminated with pink light. Suddenly, it opened. Clove poured some dust in the box, the same colour as the memory wiping energy. She then closed it.
“Say open whenever your parents are mad at you, it’ll wipe their memories. Not all of them, but the ones of you being out too long.”
Isabelle nodded, and suddenly Fletcher strolled back down the stairs. He held a stone tablet, with N, Ne, E, Se, S, Sw, W and Nw written on it. In the centre was a dome with a sphere on top. Coming from the sphere was a small spike pointing up.
The other item was simply a metal plate with a circle carved into the middle. He put it down upon the ground and pressed the circle, the plate glowing.
“What are those?” Isabelle questioned.
“They’re relics. The circle one is a tracker, the plate fixes stuff,” explained Walker, as Wren put the remnants of her scythe on the plate.
Relics are enchanted objects. These words echoed in Isabelle’s head and she guessed it was Lambert.
Blue light burst from the plate, two tentacles grabbing each of the scythe pieces and snapping them together, fixing them.
“This isn’t a powerful relic, so your enchantment has faded,” Fletcher said as Wren picked her scythe up and disappeared.
“She is sneaky, isn’t she?” asked Isabelle. Everyone nodded.
“Wait… why is his house the base?” Isabelle asked again.
“It’s the biggest,” replied Isaac, who got up and limped to the kitchen.
“Fantom, Isabelle, you two have to go to bed!” Fletcher yelled. They both groaned and ran upstairs.
~
The doctor sat in his armchair, a whiskey in his hand. It was 10:00pm and all was silent.
It was a surprise when the door flew open and 5 people walked in. A sudden metal blade sliced through the air, the tip piercing his heart.
Crow’s squad looked around. They looked under tables, through drawers, in cupboards, everywhere.
They finally all crowded around a drawer as Alec Ross ripped the drawer out, the house bathing in a purple glow suddenly.
“Oh…” said Alec, smirking, “boss is gonna be very pleased with us.”
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good job with the story so far 