30th June 2006, 05:30 PM #1
The Evil Bunny King of Doom...
Hello everyone! This is a recent prologue I finished. The first chapter is a sort of spoof of war of the worlds, but trust me, the rest is purely original. The ideas, the plot, the ending, nothing like the before mentioned book/film. Thought up in the midst of a bout of jetlag. XD
Note: This is a pokemon fanfiction, but the pokemon come in later in the story. :)
Sunlight beamed down happily upon Pepper pot lane, bathing the neighbourhood in its golden light. It bounced cheerily from window to window of the detached bungalows that lined the sidewalk, sparkling on the sun-bleached yellow paint of number seventeen. Coming across an opening, it poured in, lightning up the room. Finding a bed, it splayed across it, ignorant of those who might be trying to sleep in its lilac folds.
The silk sheets rustled as whatever was huddled under it grunted and rolled over, trying to escape the early morning wake up call. It was ignored as the suns rays continued to grow brighter and brighter. The sleeper had no chance. With a snort it woke up, slowly removing the blanket from over its head to reveal it as a man. He yawned wearily, blinking his mouse brown hair out of his eyes. Upon the insistence of his wife he’d agreed to keep it long, and had regretted the decision ever since. Ah well. Life goes on. Swinging his blue pyjamamed legs over the edge of the bed, he sat up and stretched. His alarm went off; an annoying beep that excelled at getting on his nerves. He grimaced and whacked at it, sending it tumbling to the floor. It landed with a smack, the glass display cracking on impact. Despite this, the beep still rang loud and clear. Bloody alarm. he grumbled, picking it up and slamming his thumb onto the snooze button. The piercing noise slowly faded away into silence, leaving the room peaceful once more. He gave a sigh of relief, placed it gingerly on his nightstand, and headed towards the bathroom.
Emerging clean and fully awake, he strode to his wardrobe to choose his outfit for the day. Unfortunately for him, and for most of the other residents of Shapley, it was a Monday. The first work day of the week. Dressing swiftly, he grabbed his comb and ran it through his still wet hair, his tousled curls barely responding to his furious attempts. On his chest a name card glinted, the words: ‘John Pittle’ just visible under the glare of reflected light. With a strangled scream, he gave up and headed for the door, hurriedly fastening his tie.
At the door he paused. He felt a deep compulsion to stay where he was, to turn on his heel and flee for his still warm bed covers. He shook his head and ignored it, stepping forward and feeling the carpets soft, cream fibres sink underneath his weight. He was, of course, in his socks; his wife did not allow shoes any farther than the front door. Which was a little annoying, but he understood the reason behind it. He started forward once more, ducking his head to avoid the low chandelier. It was his wife, Sable’s, favourite piece, she had inherited it from her grandmother and had it installed here. It looked a little out of place, a piece of ancient grandeur in the middle of a pretty floral pattern, but he didn’t care. He came to the stairs and hurried down it, smelling the first whiffs of baking from the kitchen. He was a little apprehensive, but he was sure it would be fine. Or at least, he hoped so. He emerged into the kitchen, blinking as sunlight speared up and into his eyes. As his vision cleared, he walked towards the far corner, in the direction of the cooker
His wife had a… peculiar fashion sense, but he didn’t mind. He saw past it to the beautiful person underneath. Ignoring the screaming fat cherubs plastered on the walls with practised ease, he inched past the oak dining table and towards his partner. She looked up as he entered, placing her cooking on the stove with a smile as he scooped her into his arms, hugging her close. Putting her down he smiled back, glancing down at what she was making. A mass of cracked egg shell and unmixed flour was bubbling gently in her stainless steel pan, balancing on the old gas cooker. He struggled to keep his face straight as laughter threatened to burst out of his lips. She was trying to make pancakes again. Mentally shaking his head he turned off the hob and drew her away, leading her to the other side of the kitchen.
“Let’s have this for breakfast instead, honey.” He suggested, opening up the fridge and picking out a selection of grapes. “I wouldn’t want to ruin my appetite for lunch, the pancakes look too filling for me.” He sighed with relief as she nodded pleasantly. Oh, his honey bunny.
Breakfast done and dusted, he picked up his packed lunch that had been prepared lovingly by his adoring spouse, checking briefly to make sure she hadn’t slipped one of her pancakes in, before heading towards the door. His wife followed him out, stopping him outside his ford and giving him a quick kiss. Whispering a small: ‘I love you!’ he opened his car door and slid into his seat, resting a hand on the steering wheel. What a relief to be back to his normal routine. Humming happily he switched on the engine, catching a part of the BBC News before skipping past to the classical music channel. The words he had overheard seemed to echo throughout the car, the sky outside darkening as a cloud passed over the sun.
“A storm is massing over Sprinkle town today, meteorologists are calling it a ‘freak-”
He ignored it, letting the soothing waves of Mozart wash over him. The sun poked out from behind the cloud and poured down, seeming to pave the road with golden light. Smiling, he whistled with the tune as he pulled away. Sinking into his worn leather seat; he sighed happily, watching the miles fly by. Sprinkle Town was very popular, so he lived in the small village of Shapley half an hour away, where the houses were cheaper. He didn’t mind, he always enjoyed his drives; either preparing himself for the day ahead or relaxing after a long, hard day at work. The engine purred beneath him like a contented cat as the car streaked down the motorway. Checking the clock, he nodded with satisfaction at the fact that it was only six thirty. His work didn’t start until half past seven, but he preferred to leave earlier to avoid the rush hour traffic.
The road wound its way through rolling countryside; the occasional snoozing sheep was usually all that he saw. But today they were acting oddly, sticking together in thick herds and bleating loudly, eyes rolling to reveal the whites of their eyes. He squinted worriedly at them for a while before shrugging and refocusing on the road. Probably just a sheep, religious... thing. Soon the endless fields gave way to houses, steadily marching closer in an unrelenting line. A few rose above the rest, towering over the large town and hunching over like little old men. He grinned at the familiar image of the radio tower, checking to make sure his briefcase was still beside him. He worked near here, in the headquarters of the bank firm ‘Lem and associates’. A long term employee, he had worked there for ten years; long enough to remain unfazed by the ‘lemming’ references that were frequently thrown his way. Slipping his car into a discrete alley, he drew to a halt at the entrance of the company car park. It was splayed out before him, a dull wave of concrete and old paint. Behind it, the Lemmings HQ sat stoutly in the middle of two skyscrapers, straddling the gap between them. Its white washed walls gleamed in the morning light, the suns rays bouncing off the many windows that peppered its face. Sighing with satisfaction he drew his gaze down. A multicoloured bar blocked his way; he needed to take a parking ticket before he would be let in. His good mood ebbed a little, he didn’t approve of having to pay to park. Thankfully they refunded him at the end of the year.
He rolled down his window, reaching out to the small toll booth that had been installed by the barrier. But something made him stop, something didn’t feel right… He looked up through the windscreen, surprised to see that the sun had been enveloped in a swash of cloud that tossed and curled as if in a harsh wind. But there was none. Everything fell silent, the bird calls that had always populated the area mysteriously gone. He waited a couple more seconds, listening with his arm outstretched, fingers poised over the button. He had the sudden overwhelming urge to cry out, break the eerie silence. A slow breeze flitted over the car, running its small hands over it, whispering in forgotten tongues warnings for those who listened. He was frozen by the sudden wave of fear, but he had no idea what he was afraid of. His breathing quickened, his pulse starting to race as all of his senses told him to go, go home, hide in the comfort of his bed. For something bad was coming.
He blinked, shaking his head to knock himself out of his reverie. There was nothing out there, nothing to fear. He paused again, sighing with relief as bird call trumpeted from the nearby trees. He must be getting paranoid. Laughing quietly to himself, he leaned out a bit more and pressed the button. A ticket slid out with a peculiar clunk as he grabbed at it, and withdrew his hand. Slumping back in his seat, he watched the ramp slowly crank itself up, and slid the car smoothly forward. The last chimes of a piece by some Italian composer petered out as he swung into his designated parking place, unfortunately at the rear of the lot. As much as the company liked him, he wasn’t their most important employee. The closer spaces were reserved for executives. But he didn’t care. Walking was good for him, it helped keep off the pounds. Getting out of the car, he grabbed his bag from the passenger seat and slammed the door shut. Turning, he began to whistle as he headed towards Lemmings. It was considerably chillier then it had been when he had left earlier, so he pulled his coat tighter around his frame. The sun was hidden by a broiling mass of thunder heads that seemed to thrash angrily overhead, grumbling in low, rolling voices. He ignored them for the most part, only slightly speeding up his pace. The clouds seem to promise a sudden downpour, and he wanted to get inside before then.
He was shivering by the time he reached the doorway. The weather outside had most certainly taken a turn for the worst, and the breeze had blown itself into a gale. Teeth chattering he waited as the automatic doors slowly slid open, allowing warm light to pour out welcomingly. He tried to smile, stepping forward into the warmth. A heater above blasted him with hot air, chasing away the chills and warming up his frozen hands. The foray of the building was a mass of yellows and browns, with speckled, dust colored tiles that seemed to merge somehow with the walls, giving the room an exotic feel. Tan leather sofas were dotted around the place, accompanied by the occasional cactus. A woman smiled at him from the front desk, her yellow-orange suit’s sleeves rolled up. Lemmings liked to ensure that, in contrast to normal British weather, their offices seemed, and were, as warm as possible. The style varied from room to room, his own miniature office as secretary to the press officer, (his official station, although he mainly carried messages) was set in the theme of Mexico. Maracas included.
He stumbled towards the nearest chair and threw himself down, briefly checking the time from a sundial faced clock that hung over the main desk. Seven. Good. He could relax for twenty five minute before work… Snuggling into his chair, he could barely keep his eyes open. The battle to get here through that hurricane wind had worn him out, and all he wanted to do was sleep…
He woke up with a start, struggling to sit up and blinking blearily at the clock. Seven ten. He grumbled crossly. He’d only gotten ten minutes sleep! He slumped back into the chair, trying to get back into his comfortable position. He was so… very… tired… His excursions had exhausted him more than he thought. He closed his eyes for the second time…
There it was again! That blasted sound that had woken him up fifteen minutes earlier than he wanted! Pushing himself up out of the depths of the arm chair with difficulty, he finally managed to get up and cursed under his breath. His tie had wrapped itself around his neck and was on the verge of strangling him. Once he had managed to sort out his clothes, he looked around, trying to figure out the origin of the sound. The woman from the desk had moved; she was now standing in front of the automatic doors, allowing gusts of wind to tumble inside. Shivering as one such gust wriggled through his clothes, he tucked his jacket closer to himself and stalked forward, standing beside the clerk. She didn’t even look at him, her black hair streaming behind her, dark eyes opened wide in wonder as she gazed, slack jawed, at the scene before her. He followed her line of sight, and gasped in shock.
The sky was overshadowed by a massive hurricane, thunderheads weaving together in a deadly dance that contrived to throw the world into chaos. It contorted horribly, vastly resembled a purple-blue bruise that throbbed as a war seemed to wage inside it. He shuddered; he had never seen the sky look like this before. The wind cackled by, twirling around the circling eye before descending on the pitiful car park, grasping at anything that wasn’t bolted to a wall. He frowned briefly, looking up at the storm. Wasn’t it the other way around? Wasn’t the eye of a storm supposed to be calm? The wind whipped around him, assuring him with strangled voices that this was not the case. He watched in horror as one of the cars towards the back of the car park started, with a painful screech, to move. It was a classic mini cooper, painted in the colors of the union flag. His eyes widened as its front wheels lifted up and bounced on the tarmac, each bounce causing him to wince. There was a lull in the wind, before-
“MY CAR!” screamed the Clerk, watching as it was blown fully into the air. It hovered for a few, painful seconds, windscreen wipers swinging crazily in the gale, before dropping like a stone and crashing onto the pick up that had been beside it. There was a horrible crunch. He winced appreciatively, turning to the clerk and comfortingly patting her shoulder. She was in a state of shock, staring in disbelief, a look of horror etched into her features. A creaking sound attracted his attention back to the car as it swayed menacingly. It had been flipped onto its side, the wheels rolling uselessly in mid air. The windscreen was shattered, it’s crystal shards covered the ground like the cars very blood. As he watched, the mini groaned, tilting to the left until it smashed on to its top. The sound of the remaining windows losing their glass was almost lost in the roaring of the wind as, with a sigh, the roof slowly squashed inwards, crumpling under the weight. He ‘ooh’ed sympathetically, giving the clerk a brief hug. She stood as stiff as a board, unable as yet to understand what had happened. Pulling away, he took her by the hand and led her behind the desk to her seat.
At the sound he turned, heading back to the doorway and peering outside. In the short time he had been distracted the eye had grown larger, the entire car park was now under its fierce gaze. Another car had succumbed to the extraneous circumstances, it‘s top buckling as it too was flipped onto its back. A horrible screech filled the air as it started to skid backwards. Covering his ears, he squinted, just able to see a collection of other people fleeing through the sprinkle of rain that had just started to fall. He ignored them, glancing back at the car park. Odd engine noises had been growing steadily louder, almost as if… He froze. A hummer was tearing at full speed towards him, propelled by the chuckling wind. The man inside was white with fear as he struggled with the steering wheel, trying to change its course…
John stood there, unable to comprehend what was happening. Wind-car-death, it all collided in his befuddled mind, leaving him utterly confused. The car motored onwards. Water sprayed up from its wheels, finding new freedom as the car charged at it’s unrelenting pace. Slowly realisation dawned on him, and, whimpering slightly, he began to back up. But it was too little, too late. His eyes widened as he started to tremble, watching what he believed was his death come roaring at full speed towards him.
He couldn’t die, not here, not now! He wasn’t ready. He had so many plans for the future, like his dream of finally moving to the US, the dream of finally getting a dog. He’d always wanted a dog… Fear crept up behind him, spinning its scythe blade with an evil grin. His wife… What would she do without him? After ten long years of marriage, he couldn’t imagine being away from her. Did she feel the same?
An arrow of light speared down from the utmost center of the hurricane, landing in an explosion of tar in the center of the car park. He didn’t see it, too caught up in his thoughts to notice how the storm had changed.
What about his mother? She could barely walk, let alone come to his funeral. Miserable thoughts began to close in on him, filling him with remorse.
He couldn’t die! People needed him! He started to panic, watching as the car came nearer and nearer to the doors.
Time dragged by, each second seeming to last a minute. Details grew clearer, he paid more attention to his surroundings; he could see each individual grain in the wood panelling above the door, the sweat glistening on the approaching mans face, every single rain drop falling onto the hummers hull and sliding off.
He didn’t want to die. Please, if there is a god, don’t let my life end like this! Not like this, not now! He begged silently.
The rumble of the car filled the room as it drew nearer. It seemed to crouch, its shiny yellow front dipping as if preparing to spring on him. He wouldn’t be able to get out of the way, his chance for that had come and gone. The clerk behind her desk, watched with horror.
He closed his eyes, expecting to hear the crumple of metal as the car burst in…
He waited, holding baited breath.
No car sounds, no tearing metal sounds, no anything. Just complete, utter silence. He waited, confused and agitated, for a couple more seconds, before curiosity got the better of him and hesitantly, he opened an eye.
All of a sudden, it seemed, everything had stopped. It’d fallen quiet, still, nothing daring to move. The driver was able to turn the car enough to come alongside the building as the engine sputtered and gave out completely. Trembling slightly with a look of shock plastered across his face the man got out, falling to his knees and staring up at the sky. John gazed dumbly around him, the events not registering in his mind. One minute he was about to die, the next it was absolutely silent. Had he died? He didn’t think so, because he didn’t feel anything. He should have been able to feel something even if he’d had a quick death. It certainly did not look like any heaven he’d heard about. He giggled, looking at his still shaking hands. He had never been so afraid in his entire life.
He shook his head in an attempt to clear it, his thoughts clambering to be heard. He gathered his courage, and sanity, before walking shakily towards the door. He peered outside. The wind was gone, and with it, it’s howling. Up above the clouds dance began to slow, the thunder heads diffusing into the calm, spring air. No sound. None at all. Supernaturally silent, although he’d never lowered himself down far enough to actually watch the show. He checked his watch, unused to not hearing its steady tick that penetrated every silence. It had stopped, the minute hand frozen mid-turn. How odd. He thought, looking around. The clerk ventured out from inside Lemmings, pinching herself to make sure she was still awake. It had been an interesting morning.
People began to emerge from their hiding places, some crying, some silent, all with looks of shock clear on their features. Smoke rose slowly from the center of the car park, a dark plume that towered high into the sky above their heads. Taking a deep, shaky breath, he joined the multitudes heading towards the disaster area. The clerk joined him, as did the driver, and they walked together, too shocked to speak. As they drew closer, the sound of excited, fearful voices filled the air. People were crowding in a huge circle, around what he could not tell. Slipping through any available gaps, John made it to the front and peered down.
A gigantic crater pierced the car park, smoke rising from its jagged edges. It was about as deep as a man could stand with his head above the surface, the tar around it scorched with burn marks. It looked liked the very tar had been incinerated, no trace of it remained. The person beside him shook her head, whispering in his direction.
“They say it was lightning strikes that did this. But I aint never heard nor seen lightning that strikes low ground when there is high ground around it. Seven times I tell ya!”
He offered her a weak smile, looking once more down at the hole. Seven times on low ground, when there was plenty of tall buildings around it? How odd. How very odd, he thought. He might not be a geographer, but that just didn’t sound right… A strange, bubbling sound attracted his attention back to the crater. A shudder ran through the crowd as a strange liquid began to well up from its deepest point, a thick, multicoloured substance that stopped just under the lip of the hole. As one, the circle backed away, none willing to be closest to this strange, new occurrence. The liquid rippled oddly, slipping up and down like the incoming tide. Yet everything else was completely calm. A sun ray fell upon the liquid, sparkling off its pebbled surface. The liquid seemed to absorb it, glowing with an odd light. The ripples grew larger and larger, splashing over the edge. Suddenly, the surface was thrown in turmoil.
It erupting like a miniature volcano, throwing big fats drops of the liquid into the air. John gasped, turning and fleeing from the broiling mass, wishing he was anywhere but here. The crowd joined him, tripping over their own feet in their hurry to escape; more than one scream escaping from their assorted lips. John glanced back, turning his head in time to see a dog sized piece of the liquid thrown into the air, landing with a smack behind him. He slowed, unable to tear his eyes away as the miniature puddle began to shake, rising up and changing shape. He stopped in his tracks, eyes wide with fear as the liquid, its surface rippling as it sprouted fur, stretched out to form appendages. Slowly, a four legged creature began to appear, the liquid retracting and bulging out to create its form. As it neared completion, it glowed the colors of a rainbow before solidifying in the shape of a…
John frowned, turning around to fully face the creature. It was as if someone had drawn a cartoon rabbit and carved it out of play dough; it was unrealistic. From its dog like size and sitting position to its forward facing ears, it looked like a physical version of those bunnies from Wallace and Gromit. Except different... His frown deepened. How was it possible that a living breathing creature could have been created in such a way? Had modern science furthered that much in the last ten years? Or was this something else? Aliens perhaps? He dismissed the thought immediately. No Alien would take the form of a bunny, of all things.
A breeze rippled through the creatures baby pink fur, tickling its whiskers. Twitching its cherry pink nose it sneezed, raising a petite paw to scrub at it furiously. It looked so cute that the frown faded from Johns face, and a smile tweaked up the corners of his lips. The bunny began to stretch, flexing its large feet and raising its arms high into the air. Smacking its lips together sleepily, it lazily scratched its white chest and opened an eye. John gasped, forgetting all of his doubts as he was hypnotised by its large eyes. Its iris’s were a soft mixture of pink and white, soothing and beautiful and it didn’t help how it gazed so imploringly at him. He smiled wider. How could he have thought something so cute could be bad? He laughed openly as it opened both eyes fully and tried to step forward, falling flat on its face.
“Ting tong china man… What do you have for me today?” His ring tone blared out, breaking the silence and causing John to jump. Cursing, he wrangled with his pocket and took out his mobile, turning away from the cute rabbit and walking back to Lemmings. He had been jerked out of his shock induced reverie and had remembered that despite all that had happened today, it was still a weekday. A work day.
“Darn this new phone!” He muttered, slowing to a halt and finally managing to answer the call. He raised it to his ear, still muttering curses, before he greeted the caller.
A crackle ran through the line, signifying that the other caller had bad reception. Rolling his eyes, he jammed the phone closer to his ear.
“He he he…” A soft, childish laugh echoed down the phone, giggling insanely. John’s frown returned, he was not a child person.
“What do you want?” he demanded, impatient. There was a pause on the other line, before-
“Little bunny fou fou, running through the forest, scooping up the-” The callers voice rang tauntingly in his ears, filled with arrogance and triumph. He cursed, starting to walk once more towards Lemmings. His watch still didn’t work, but he knew he was probably running late.
“Look, I have no clue who you are, but leave me alone, alright? Do your parents know you are doing this?”
The caller ignored him, continuing to sing the song. John cursed again and hung up, lowering his phone. He was only a few feet away from the front door now, the Clerk ahead of him and already inside. He had barely taken a step before his phone rang again. Sighing, he raised it to his ear.
“Bunny, bunny, bunny, bunny,” The caller was different this time; younger, but its insane giggles were infuriatingly similar. John growled, hanging up yet again. He was not in the mood for prank calls. His phone rang again. He checked the caller ID, muttering when he realised it was nobody he knew. Didn’t kids this day and age have anything better to do then prank call? He wondered, ignoring the call and walking up to the door. It slid open, allowing a fanfare of noise to burst out. He blinked, stepping inside and glancing around.
The normally off TV’s were on at a steadily rising volume, blaring out gobbledegook and flicking madly from channel to channel. He stepped closer to the nearest one, gazing in horror at the screen. It had settled on a single channel, the screen white except for these pink bunny rabbits dancing the conga. They were identical to the rabbits that had come with the storm, giggling insanely and singing. One of them caught his eye and winked, batting its eyelashes. He choked back a scream and looked away. How could it see him?
“Little bunny Fou Fou, hopping through the forest…” Johns eyes widened in shock as he recognized the voice from the call. Covering his ears, he jabbed his elbow desperately at the power button, eager to turn the infernal sound off. But the TVs were already unplugged. He stared at them in confusion, before a tap on his shoulder made him look up. The clerk was standing beside him, fingers jammed into her ears.
“I don’t know what’s going on!” She yelled, her voice barely audible over the noise. He nodded to show that he understood. “The computer has done the same thing!”
He nodded again, gesturing with his head that they should go to the desk. His eyes were starting to water from the constant barrage of sound, his ears throbbing with the beat. She smiled briefly at him and headed across the room. He followed her, wincing as a huge crash burst out from the direction of the doors. The glass windows had shattered under the sounds force, unable to take the bass undertones. A few splinters zipped by, cutting into his cheek. Star bursts of pain exploded around the injured area, spiking as they dug deeper and deeper into the soft flesh. He bit his lip to stop himself from screaming as blood dribbled slowly towards his chin. Stepping carefully the last few feet to his destination, he joined the clerk behind the desk. Her arm was bleeding, a shard of glass stuck fast in the muscle, blood trickling slowly down to her elbow. Removing a hand from her ears, she began to slowly drag it out, face crumpling with pain, tears leaking out of the corners of her eyes. He began to feel faint, eyes locked on the droplets of blood that beaded out of the wound. He felt dizzy, blood rushing from his face. Taking a deep breath, he turned away. He wasn’t a fan of blood. Seeing the flicker of the screen, he fastened his eyes gladly on it.
The screen was a roving mass of bunny rabbits, rabbits making faces, rabbits sleeping, rabbits… doing things he wouldn’t go into. He quickly averted his eyes, fixing them instead on the marquee that zipped along at the top of the screen. Taking another deep breath, he crouched down and started to read it, speaking the words out loud.
“Bunny, bunny, bunny, bunny, whoop! Bunny, whoop! Bunny, bunny, bunny, bunny…” His voice trailed off as the words travelled faster, and faster, flashing multicolour. The bunnies were pointing at him, laughing at him, mocking him… He was unable to take his eyes away, so many colors, going by so fast now, so fast, so fast.. so fast… His eyes rolled and he slumped down, falling into the deep well of unconsciousness…
The bunnies watched with amusement as the humans scattered in multiple directions, each of them talking into their feeble electronic devises. One of the creatures chuckled, shaking its head at the humans antics. They thought they were so clever, they thought they owned the world. How wrong they were.
A rustle in the nearby bushes attracted their attention. A ragged, mundane example of the human race staggered out, its breathing laboured. It was a male of their specie, reaching the end of his time on earth, it seemed, for his hair was shock white and his back bent with age. More in tune with nature perhaps? The tattered thing on his head denied that, though. He most certainly was wearing less clothes than other humans, but the cloth was of poorer quality, even from here the bunnies could see its harsh fibres. They narrowed their eyes as one, examining the man closely. Their minds were united, they each harboured a single piece of their masters plan. Only together could they succeed. The human froze when it drew near them, turning its blind, unseeing eyes in their direction. Oh great. The nearest Bunny rolled its eyes, its soft pastel iris flickering to it’s normal blood red. A seer. Just what we needed.
The human began to quiver, slowly backing away. The bunnies pretended not to notice, each doing one thing or the other that gave the semblance of unawareness; whether it was nibbling on some grass or cleaning itself. When the human had deemed it had retreated far enough, it turned on its heel and fled, screaming something. The bunnies giggled as they tore after him, their speed superior to the mere human’s. The thrill of the chase ran like wild fire through their linked minds as they soon overtook and circled him, forcing him to halt.
“Run! Run for your lives! He’s coming! The Evil B-”
He was cut off mid shriek as the bunnies converged on him, one leaping onto his chest, another to cover his mouth, and another to his neck to cut off his wind pipe. With a muffled yelp he fell to the ground. The creatures of chaos were ruthlessly precise, splitting into their designated groups as they leapt forward and carted off their prisoner. A giggle went through the ranks as the man fought for air, battling with the bunnies as he was suffocated. A carefully arranged release of tension rendered the man unconscious, and four bunnies carried him to the crater, whilst the remaining three acted innocently, and checked to make sure they had not been seen. Satisfied that their secret was safe, the bunnies returned and frolicked together in the morning sunshine, a picture of perfect harmony. In the center of them, the roving mass of chaos bubbled slightly as a tattered hat rose to the surface…
Last edited by katiekitten; 30th June 2006 at 09:24 PM.
30th June 2006, 06:19 PM #2
A black and white world
Just a heads up, you don't have to censor anything on this forum. You can say whatever the fuck you want, as the saying goes.
30th June 2006, 06:25 PM #3
Except for overly racist comments and the like.
Also, don't go overboard with cursing because you can.....
30th June 2006, 09:22 PM #4
O.o ...Cursing? *scans fic* XD Oh, that little part... *goes to change it* XD