A Pyronite's tale...

A Pyronite's tale...

A Story by Dread Solomon
"

Let's call it fan-fiction, 'cause I was bored...

"
Alan threw a ball of fire at the double doors. The explosion rang out, drowning out the whispering waves beneath. Cautiously, he entered the warehouse, throwing light out as far as the flames dancing around him would allow. Max followed suit, a plasma gun in one hand, and an alien-looking device beeping slowly in the other.
'You sure we're in the right place?' asked Alan as he raised a burning arm around like a torchlight. All he could see were mountains of junk and more junk.
'Positive,' replied the old man in the Hawaiian shirt, who looked to be in his sixties, 'Try not to burn anything here.' Alan shrugged and allowed the man to lead the way. As they strode further down, the piles of trash began to tower around them till some of them seemed to be touching the roof. Something scuttled by in the shadows. Jolted, Alan instinctively aimed a burning fist at whatever it was. Only silence greeted him. Not even a rat for him to fry.
'Sorry for calling you out on such short notice,' started Max, 'but the other Plumber kids don't seem to give a damn 'bout anything these days...'
'No worries,' Alan replied, 'I'm glad that you called me.' Sure beats being stuck in an air-conditioned office any day... 
'What about Ben?'
'I have him worry about other things,' said Max. 'Like Vilgax,' he added.
'Ah.'
The beeping entered a frenzy when Max waved the device over what appeared to be an overstuffed crate. 
'Is this it?' asked Alan. Max nodded as he pulled out a crowbar and began prying the crate open. In the process, the nails finally came out of the wood, revealing what lay within.
As black as midnight, a sphere the size of a tangerine eerily hovered in mid-air. It was no shocker for both Alan and Max, who had seen their fair share of anything extraordinary to the common folk. 
'What is this?' asked Alan
'This,' said Max, 'is a black hole.'
'Right... So why isn't it doing what it's supposed to be doing?'
'Have you ever heard of the Centurion Vortex?'
'Yeah,' replied Alan, 'the Milky Way was nearly destroyed by it. Why?'
'Well,' said Max, 'You're looking at it.' 
Alan looked at the ball of swirling black disbelievingly. 'Stop pulling my leg, Max. You'll only get yourself burned for that.'
Max ignored him. 'The Vortex was actually neutralized by a group of Plumbers a few years back. They did not know how to dispose of it back then, so they decided to store the whole thing into what we're looking at right now, which is actually alien tech, in case you're wondering.'
'Okay... let me guess, they've finally found a way to destroy it, and the purpose of this mission was to deliver the Vortex to them?' 
'Yep.'
'Man, I was expecting something to attack us tonight...' Without warning, something sprung at him. One bolt of fire, and it exploded in mid-air. From the catatonic plume above them fell burning bits of metal which clattered noisily amidst the dark silhouettes.
'Company,' muttered Alan as crimson dots of light appeared around them in the wake of the dissipating orange wisps. Light fell upon what looked like metallic spiders crawling towards them through the trash as he spread both arms out. 
'Must be the security drones,' whispered Max as he readied himself for battle. The spiders sprang high into the air and came at them in a cacophony of clicking mandibles. 
'Alan?' said Max nervously. Alan nodded and raised both hands up at the incoming onslaught. The flames around him slowly dimmed, leaving behind a body of molten lava as they swirled up into the fiery maelstrom above him, which rose slowly through the air, engulfing everything in its path. A moment passed before mini-explosions began protruding from the pillar of fire, with each and every one of them spewing out burning debris.
'How did the Vortex end up here in the first place?' asked Alan as debris volleyed the ground around him.
'Uhm,' began Max, who had taken cover behind a few grimy crates piled up together, 'it switched hands a couple of times, so I didn't really keep track of its previous ownerships.'
'So the spiders are part of the warehouse's security system, and you're completely sure no one's after it?'
'No doubt about it.'
A blur of blue swept past them, in its wake a powerful gust which nearly put out Alan's burning body. The dim light from the smouldering debris glanced off the creature's reptilian features which included a striped tail as it finally came to a halt before them.
'Ben,' greeted Alan. The creature's visor slid back up to reveal two pupil-less eyes staring back at him. Its black lips arced into a smile.
'What did I miss?'  

© 2010 Dread Solomon


Author's Note

Dread Solomon
To be continued... or maybe not.

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Added on April 12, 2010
Last Updated on April 13, 2010
Tags: Ben Ten, Heatblast, Fan-fiction

Author

Dread Solomon
Dread Solomon

Kuching, Sarawak, Malaysia



About
'I believe whatever doesn't kill you, simply makes you... stranger.' I'm a whole bunch of things... a poet, a story teller, a lazy novelist, a pianist, a beginner saxophonist, a geek with good loo.. more..

Writing
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A Story by Dread Solomon