This is a story that popped into my head, and I HAD to write it. It leans toward my usual sword-and-sorcery writing that I do (Pokemon fics excluded), and I want some feedback on whether it's really good or not. I'm also thinking of quitting Five-Region Rush completely if this is good enough. I'm also going to post two chapters at first to get more feedback.
Alaois Cody Finn was an Irish teenager that never dreamed he would be hunting down the Vampire King. Not Dracula, but his son, Virgiliu Nicu. As he crept through the underground passage that he was hiding in, Alaois thought about how this had happened.
(Three months earlier)
Alaois walked into the second-to-last week of school with the rest of the track team’s better members. He was officially ranked seventh of the top twenty, but he thought there were some people ranked below him that could easily beat him in a race. As they jostled and joked in the hallway, the first bell rang and Alaois walked to his locker to lock up his backpack.
He was a sophomore at O’Byrne High School and one of the “popular” kids. He stood around 5’9’’ and had dirty blonde hair, mismatched light blue and dark green eyes, and a clean, white smile. He had a light tan and was also well-muscled.
He grabbed his books for first period and jogged down the hall to his first class. He halfway listened through his first three classes until gym class, where he was at home. He got high enough grades in his other classes, but gym was always an “A” for him. It let him think while he did what he did before every track meet and over every weekend. But the teacher, Mr. Martin, was out apparently, because there was a substitute. He was relatively small, and Alaois was taller and probably stronger than him.
“I’m Mr. Achille, your substitute for the day,” he explained. “Mr. Martin is sick.”
He started the class on the usual warm-up, but afterwards he brought out body pads and floor mats.
“Today, we’re going to spar,” he said. “All contact must be upper-body, and try to avoid the head. No kicking, only punching and elbows. And yes, this class has been approved by the principal and Mr. Martin.”
The first two kids up did well against each other, equally matched. The second, third, and fourth went this way, too. Nobody was getting hurt until Jacob, a big kid with a bigger attitude, was matched up against Anthony, a computer geek. Jacob beat the kid senseless before Mr. Achille could stop him and was going to give him detention when he was hurled across the floor.
“You think you could beat me?” Jacob yelled, his neck bulging. Mr. Achille looked at him with death in his eyes before he blinked and put his hand to his radio, ready to call in to the other teachers.
Alaois was incredulous. Jacob had attacked a teacher! He was going to get expelled! But when Mr. Achille touched his radio, nothing happened. It was broken.
Jacob turned to the other kids. “Who else thinks they can take me?” he yelled. “I can beat the pulp out of all of you!”
Anthony had scuttled away, holding his injuries, when Jacob turned to Alaois.
“You! Ala or whatever. You think you can take me?”
Apparently Alaois’s answer didn’t matter, because Jacob charged at him. Alaois dodged by jumping to the left and turned around to throw a punch, but Jacob caught it and, hoping to make Alaois scream, twisted his wrist 180 degrees.
Jacob reeled back and swore. Alaois’s skin just sloughed off, leaving a pitch-black, armored hand with skin peeling back where it met with the rest of Alaois’s arm.
“What is that thing?” he yelled. “You’re a freak, Ala, a freak!”
All the while Alaois stared at his hand. Mr. Achille stood up and everyone else froze, literally. Nobody moved a muscle, and nobody seemed to be breathing. Alaois looked at Mr. Achille and saw that he was becoming blurry, and all of a sudden his skin became like a fog and blew away, revealing a taller, more muscular man with an angular face dressed in a black robe. He had hair as black as Alaois’s hand, dark green eyes, and a sword’s sheath on his hip.
“We seem to have a Vampire Halfling,” he said as he drew his sword. It resembled a katana with a pitch-black blade. “I’ll fix that.”