We Are Not Your Playthings

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We Are Not Your Playthings

Post  LordTomyh on Sun Dec 18, 2016 4:41 pm

Chapter One

"Hey pyro, you awake?"

Heath sighed at the voice and looked up from the book he wasn't reading. A quick glance at the digital clock on his bedside told him the voice was right on time, once again. With another sigh Heath threw the book to the other side of the room and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

"Hello, pyro. Don't ignore me, I know you're awake in there, I heard Birch's dictionary on grassland mushrooms hit the wall."

Heath glanced at the discarded book with a smirk as he stood up and stretched, feeling huge tendons and joins in his arms and shoulders pop and crack with satisfaction.
"That went up two nights ago. I'm trying the psychology book."

"Any good?"

"Too wordy," Heath replied, crossing the room in a single stride to pick up the 500 page hardcover book. With a bored grunt he threw the book on a large bookshelf, slightly burnt around the edges and covered in piles of grey ash. Looking around the room, which was bare of furniture save for bed, bookshelf, a chair in the corner, and a simple door leading to a small bathroom. On the simple door hung a mirror, with heath catching himself in the reflection. He was around average height at 5'7 with a lean build and tanned skin. His hair was styled upwards like fire with a long band covering his left eye; the strange thing was his hair was coloured like fire as well, his eye was a angry red colour and he had a pair of fangs peeking out from under his top lip. With a growl Heath picked at his shirt, a orange jumpsuit with a black collar and seam down the front which stopped at the belt, a large black patch down the side of the pants and a pair of black boots. Heath growled and looked away from the mirror,
"Wish I had a comic,"

"Yeah you're not getting one of those if you keep burning the books they do give you."

"Maybe they should stop giving me science books then!" Heath shouted, clenching his hands into fists as he shot a glance at the door leading to the rest of the building. As he yelled the temperature of the room rose, the edges of the psychology book curling ever so slightly. "I hated science in school!"

"So did I, but you don't hear me complaining."

A vein started to throb in Heath's forehead as he turned his gaze to the corner of the room. The corner was bare of anything save a simple chair and a grated vent set just below the roof. Heath jumped on the chair, grabbing the grates to stop him from falling off and glared through the slits into the long metal space at the slatted light at the end of the vent.

"That's because you couldn't do anything but wave your hands at them and blow yourself up again Roza."

"That was one time!" The voice shouted back as something covered the light from the other room. "Am I never going to live that down?"

"Not s'long as it's funny," Heath smirked.

"I hate you."

"Aw come on Roza, where's your sense of humor?"

"Where'd your clothes go on day one?"

The smug smirk dropped from Heath's face as an angry frown and a murderous glare took its place. Looking away from the grate Heath muttered under his breath, but the sound still carried through the vent.

"What was that?" Roza asked taking up Heath's smugness. "Didn't quite hear that"

"Not my fault they didn't give me fireproof clothes," Heath shot back, only to receive a round of laughter.

"No, but the look on your face was priceless."

With a low growl, Heath stepped off the chair and turned his back to the grate. "It wasn't funny."

"I disagree"

"I agree," said a new voice. While Roza's was feminine and bubbly this one was masculine, low and sounded like it had a slight whispering echo who could use a cough drop. Heath let out an annoyed sigh and he started to silently count down.
"Who asked you ghost boy?" Roza asked through the vents, right on cue Heath thought as he threw himself down on his bed.

"Bite me candy head!"

"Nah, don't want your horrid taste in my mouth!"

"Ya couldn't touch me if you wanted!"

Heath let out another sigh as he listened to yet another argument between Roza and Matt; despite only seeing each for meals and exercise programs these two always seemed to get on each other's nerves with a single look.

"Why did they have to put you two in the rooms closest to each other?" Heath asked no one in particular as he looked up to the burn-stained roof. "Every waking moment all you two ever do is-

"I sense a commotion."

Heath swore and jumped off the bed in fright. Picking himself off the ground with a growl he looked to the vents and cursed.

"Seriously Vic, who the hell says commotion these days? And the lovebirds are arguing again, there's you-"

"WE ARE NOT IN LOVE! Roza and Matt yelled simultaneously, to which Heath ignored them as the voice in his head spoke again.

"I sense a commotion outside."

Slowly climbing to his feet Heath found his interest piqued; even Roza and Matt had shut up to listen to the telepathic voice of Victor, one of their neighbors.

"What outside as in in the halls or outside as in outside the compound?"

"Outside of the compound. Our hosts are being attacked by another force."

"Do you know who by Vic?" Heath asked as he started to pace his room eyes locked on the vent. Something in Vic's telepathic words was stirring something in the young man's chest, something hopefully and animalistic.

"I do not, though Summer and Adrian believe now to be our best opportunity."

"To do what, sing acapella?" Matt asked sarcastically.

"Yeah Vic if you're suggesting we try to escape again, don't, " Roza said her voice dejected. "I've been here three years and none of us have ever even gotten into the halls without an escort."

"Where there is a will-"

"Save the fortune cookie crap!" Matt shouted. "We've heard it."

Heath, still pacing but the feeling in his chest now dejected and hopeless, shook his head. "Vic just because someone's attacking doesn't mean-

"A moment please," Vic said cutting Heath off. Throwing his hands in the air and growling in frustration Heath stopped pacing and walked over to the thick metal door, giving it a hard shove; as always the door didn't even budge, even when Heath banged his head against it.

"We're never getting out of here."

"Not with an attitude such as that," Vic whispered into Heath's mind making the young man look up and away from the door.

"So," Matt asked with a drawn-out 'o'. "Who'd ya talk to?"

"Adrian has brought up an interesting observation that I can't believe I overlooked."

"What?" Heath asked a small flame of hope igniting in his chest as he heard Matt and Roza echo him.

"While the walls have been designed and built to withstand our unique abilities and combined might, there is one weak point which is only made up of common-grade steel."

"WHAT?" Heath, Matt and Roza shout as the young pyro starts frantically looking around the room, eyes clawing at the walls and the roof.

In Heath's head, it almost sounds like Vic gives out an exasperated sigh as he says "the vents, Zubats."

Heath spun around and stared at the vent his jaw dropping in shock. "How the hell did we not think of that?"

"Simple oversight" Victor replied, and Heath felt the urge to shrug.

"Translation, we're idiots," said Roza, and Heath's shoulders slumped as he deadpanned.

"Yeah, that's putting it lightly." Heath said as he jumped up on the chair and started pulling at the grate. The metal didn't move, it didn't even make a sound no matter how hard the young man pulled. With a huff Heath jumped off the chair and looked at the vent, ignoring Matt and Roza as they huffed and cursed at the metal blocking their escape. Heath knew this was their last chance to escape, the only chance of ever getting out of this prison, and he knew this one would work. If only they could get the damn grate off.

Heath's eyes widened as he got an idea.

"Hey, Vic. How hot does steel need to be to melt?"

"1,510 degrees" Vic replied almost instantly matter of factly, almost as if he was waiting for Heath's question.

Heath let out a breath, a knot forming in his stomach. "Do you think I could reach that temperature?"

"Two pesetas says he can't,in" Matt said.

"You're on," Roza replied

"Oh shut up you two!" Heath yelled, earning laughs from the two.

"I do believe you can reach the temperature needed if you push yourself."
"Alright," Heath said with a nervous smile. He had probably one chance at this, one chance to break himself and his friends out of this hell. And he would be damned if he let them stay here even longer!

"Let's do this!" Heath roared, pouring the rising anger, hatred, and desire to see his friends free into the spark burning at his center. Planting his feet square on the ground he rolled back his shoulders, opened his mouth to the grate and let loose a roaring pillar of fire that covered the entire wall. Everything in the room burst into flame from the sudden heatwave, the steel wall blackening at the edges of the flame.

Heath closed with an audible snap, a few wisps of fire escaping through his fanged teeth as the giant flamethrower he produced died out.

The entire wall was blackened, what little shine that showed through was glowing from heat. The grate itself was glowing, the metal bars bent slightly inwards.
"A little warning next time Heath!" Matt's voice echoed through the vents.
"I almost lost an eyebrow" Roza said after him.

"Caution. Heath has begun attempt to melt the grates. Please step clear" Vic said, his telepathic voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Prick," both Roza and Matt said at the same time. A smile flashed across Heath's face as he took a deep breath.

"I'm going again. Stand back!"

Heath opened his mouth and let loose another blast of fire that again consumed the entire wall. He held the flamethrower for several minutes, sweat beginning to form on his brow and his legs getting shaky and weak before he closed his mouth.

The fire died down, but Heath's shoulders slumped as he saw that the grate was glowing bright orange, but still intact. Heath swore and took a deep breath before trying again, and again, and again. Each time the fire grew weaker and weaker, and fatigue became more and more evident on Heath's body. He breathed hard, his body soaked in sweat and shaking violently. But the grate was still intact.

"Come on Heath," Matt urged, "one more try."

"I, don't think I, can produce another, ember" Heath panted, sitting down on his bed so that his legs didn't give out from underneath him. "Give, me, five minutes to, catch my, breath."

"We may not have five minutes Heath. The battle is starting to wind down outside. The outsider's are being pushed back."

'No' Heath thought, his body freezing. The window was closing, their one chance to escape. His friends-


"NO!" Heath roared. Rising shakily to his feet he spread them, planting himself firmly. Taking in a deep breath, spreading his arms and expanding his chest he dug deep, feeling to his very fiery core and fueling it with everything rushing through his mind. The despair, the determination.

He would see his friends freed from this hell.

"We! Are! LEAVING!" He yelled, a massive pillar of fire, far larger than the two before and a light blue in colour with hints of white erupted from his mouth with the last word. The flamethrower covered the entire wall with the grate, then grew to encompass the whole room reducing everything to ass before suddenly being sucked out of the room, pushed through the now opened ventilation. Blue-white fire burst through every grate in the building, melting the metal grates and coverings and setting fire to anything unlucky enough to be caught in the way. Fire alarms began to blare loudly as sprinklers burst open, dousing the contents of every room in the compound, yet doing nothing to douse the jets of blue-white fire erupting from the ventilation system.

Heath snapped his mouth shut, and the fire died, leaving the young man alone breathing heavily with the distant sound of water hitting the ground; the water sprinklers in his room had melted, with the end sealed tight by cooling metal.

"Roza," Matt said with a shaking voice.

"Yes Matt?" Rosa asked, her voice equally shaken.

"Remind me not to make him angry."

"Will do. By the way, you lose."

"I don't care right now."

"Summer and Adrian just asked what was that."

"What did you tell them?"

"That this is our chance to get out of this hellhole."

His legs wouldn't work, his arms welded dead straight just holding him off of the floor. Heath's body ran with sweat, his clothes turning dark as he gulped down air, breathing as if he had been deprived. Despite his exhaustion however, deep down in his core he felt the constant burning fire flare, brighter and hot, the animalistic spark growling in caged determination




Heath blinked, and shakily he climbed to his feet. Faintly he heard Matt and Roza's alarmed voices, and Vic trying to reach his mind.




"HEATH! Hold onto-" Vic screamed, using hic voice not his telepathy, only to be cut off by a thick wall of steam rushing into Heath's room, followed by a wall of water.
In the few seconds he had Heath went white: ever since he'd ended up in this cell he'd come to hate water, even fear it.

The torrent crashed into Heath, washing over him and carrying him backwards into the door. A loud hissing filled the room as the water extinguished the fires on the furniture and rapidly cooled the hot metal walls and bed frame.

As suddenly as the torrent came it stopped, the water trickling to a stop, draining out under the door. Sitting on the floor drenched but steaming Heath spat out some water and shivered.


"Yes Heath?"

"What was that?"

"The vents were searing hot, hindering our escape. Summer opted to cooling them down rapidly rather than waiting."

"I hate her."

"I tried to warn you."

"I hate you."

Pulling himself up Heath shook off any loose drops of water; despite being absolutely drenched he was now entirely dry, even his flame-styled hair was back to shape. With a satisfied sigh he cross his room to the vent.


Heath paused at the wall and looked down. He was standing on a pile of ash and carbonized chunks sitting in a pool of metal.

It took him a few seconds.


He had melted his chair.
"f***. f*** f*** f***ing f*** Fuc- f***!" Heath jumped back putting a hand to his chest. In the vent looking into Heath's room the young girl cracked up laughing, her bubblegum pink hair dominating by one giant central curl bouncing with the movement of her head, tears spilling from her teal eyes down her pale skin.

"f***ing hell Roza! Don't f***ing do that!"

"I didn't mean to," she said still laughing. "Oh, I came to see your ugly mug."

'b*tch, I'm handsome as hell," Heath replied with a smouldering look. Roza snorted and reached down, grabbing his outstretched hands.

"On three. One, two, three!"

Heath jumped, pulling himself up while Roza pulled upwards and started wiggling backwards. It took a few minutes, and just about every jab at losing weight and working on arm strength, to get Heath into the vent, out of his cell.

One step towards freedom.

"Come on," Roza panted, taking deep breaths between words. "Victor and Matt went to get the others."

Heath smiled. "Then let's get going."

The cell door unlocked and flew open. Heath rolled over and saw four guards storm into the room, all armed with shields and Tauros-prods. Tehy all looked around the room, looking for him. One looked up at the vent, meeting Heath's eye.

"There!" he shouted pointing at the vent.

"sh*t go go go!" Heath yelled pushing Roza backwards. She tried to move as quick as possible, having to crawl backwards until they reached the cross vent. Reaching the end Roza slid into the intersecting vent and started to crawl away. Heath stopped and rolled over. One of the guards was trying to climb into the vent after them.
Heath's temperature rocketed, his hair starting to flicker like real fire and his eyes narrowed. He felt a raging burning hate rising in his throat.

Heath opened his mouth, a torrent of fire billowing forth, filling the vent and blocking the guard from view.

"Heath!" Roza yelled over the fire. "Come on!"

Heath snapped his mouth shut, wisps of fire escaping through his teeth or from his nose. The fire died, clearing from Heath's view and leaving the vent empty save him. He didn't wait to see what the guards did, Heath turned and clambered through the vents catching up with Roza. Sitting in the crossvent Heath looked down the tunnel, pass the faint beams of light coming from Vic and Matt's rooms into the endless darkness. Looking behind him he saw the same. Letting out a breath Heath focused on his skin, warmer than most people's, and started to glow faintly.

"Is it this way?" Heath asked, looking back down the vent to his room.

"I don't know. This is the way Vic and Matt went."

"They wouldn't leave us behind, would they?"

"While Summer may joke about it, she wouldn do anything possible to get us all out and away from here."

Roza and Heath both swore loudly; Heath hated that Vic could get in his head at will without warning, but felt relieved to hear him.

"We've found a room close to the outside. Adrian is working on a door. I will direct through the vents."

"Come on then Pyro," Roza said a smile. "We're-"


Heath rolled over, the glow coming off of him fading. In the darkness he could see the light coming from the cells flickering as someone tried to climb into the vents.
"Are they?" Roza asked, fear in her voice. Heath growled, the burning hate rising again in his throat.

"Keep going! Go Roza!"

She didn't budge.

Heath growled, small flames coming from his nose.



"They're climbing in the vents! I'll hold them off but Roza's not moving!"

"I'm not-"

"Get her moving and get that door open!"



Vic fell silent, the banging and cursing from the vents growing louder. Heath glanced behind him at Roza and growled, his glowing aura flaring for a few seconds as fire came from his nose and between his teeth.

The vent behind him began to shake and jump, Heath jumping in shock banging his head with a loud curse and looking behind him. Roza was crawling away, shooting a single backwards glance; the last thing of her to disappear into the darkness was her bright teal eyes. Heath, rubbing his head, sighed through his nose and looked away.
"How long?" he asked aloud, spitting wisps and small flames.

"Two more walls, maybe three. They are tougher the closer we get."
A guard poked his head around the corner looking away from Heath.
"Tell me when," Heath replied and sat up as much as he could. The guard looked around, spotting Heath down the vent and yelled as another guard poked his head out.
"Until then I'm gonna show how hosts how much we appreciate their hospitality."

"Don't get carried away."

The two guards crawled into the cross shaft towards Heath, an angry disappointed scowl on the front guards face, like Heath was a child who had done the wrong thing.
Heath blinked, once, twice, and opened his mouth.

The front guard paused, and realising what was about to happen, he sh*t his pants.
Fire erupted from Heath's mouth filing the vent. After a few minutes it stopped, the fire dying out disappearing into the darkness of the now empty vents. Heath waited, listening. No one else was climbing through the vents, no guards trying to get in after them.


Heath turned and started crawling away quickly, hoping to get closer to the others before the guards tried again.


Heath swore; there had to be a better for Vic to do that.

"Turn left here."

Heath looked to his left. Another vent he hadn't seen lead into the darkness.

Heath threw himself into the vent, moving through as quick as he could. Every now and then he would stop and listen, waiting for the guards to come after him again. When the silence became too much he moved on.


Heath turned down the vent, and noticed the walls roof and floor were all buckled bent and scratched.

"What the?"

"Adrian discovered he has intense claustrophobia and began to panic when Matt and i caught up with him and Summer."

Heath saw a hole the size of his hand punched through the wall on his left. "Is he ok now?"

"He says smashing through walls is very therapeutic."

Heath stopped and looked behind him.


Heath felt uneasy. He hadn't heard anymore guards in the vents, at all. And that really worried him. Where were they? They knew Heath and the others were in the vents. So why weren't the guards chasing them, did they get lost?

Heath turned and kept crawling, uneasy in his stomach. Now that he was in the vent damaged by Adrian Vic had stopped directing him. This made Heath even more uneasy as he could feel a sense of silent tension and distress, but he knew it wasn't his.
Heath turned a corner and saw light. Ducking back he paused for a second, feeling the heat rise in his throat, then peeked around the corner, It wasn't a flashlight producing the light. Rather it came from a hole in the bottom of the vent leading into a room beneath. Approaching slowly, keeping hold of the inner fire, Heath peeked over the edge of the hole.

And met the calm patient red eyes of Vic looking up.

"You made it," Vic said smiling as Heath jumped down.

"Did you doubt me?" Heath said throwing his arms around his friend. Stepping back Heath looked at Vic like he was a new person, a free man.

Vic was taller than Heath by a full head at 6'3 with a lean build and a slight orange tone to his fair skin. His straight copper orange hair fell around his shoulders with a slight wave towards the end. Unlike Heath Vic had seven rock-like spikes protruding from his head in a line from his both sides of his jaw to the crown of his head. Three were larger than the others, adding an extra inch to Vic's height, and sat two above the ears and the third right at the top of his head. The other four sat at equal lengths between the three making a large x.

"How close are we?" Heath asked looking around the room. His jaw dropped as his eyes fell on the hole in the far wall which was about twice as tall as him and several metres across. The hole Adrian made, right in the middle, was about eight feet up the wall and five feet across, far bigger than the teen himself. Heath looked to Vic who shrugged with a nervous smile.

"Adrian may have gotten carried away," he said as he started towards the hole. Heath followed, and his jaw almost hit the ground as he looked past the hole and saw what was left in Adrian's path. The rooms were all roughly the same length and width, but Heath swore the holes in the walls were getting bigger.


Vic and Heath stopped dead, both bending at the knees hands going out about a foot from their bodies. The two stood tense, waiting; Heath's hair began to waver and smoke, while debris and small rocks took on a light blue glow and began to float.
Suddenly Vic relaxed and looked to Heath, his mouth spreading into a hopeful shocked smile.

"They're outside."

Heath looked at the holes in the wall. His arms and legs lightened, beginning to tingle at the ends. Heat formed and rose in his chest, different to before, making him feel warm and light all over. The two friends looked at each other, and broke into a sprint.
The rooms flashed past, blurring together as the holes continued to grow wider and wider. Suddenly up ahead, Heath saw it. Another hole in the wall, black sky, a sea of stars. Outside. Freedoms.


Heath and Vic slid to a stop as the guards saw them and lined up in front of the hole, batons and Tauros prods raised and ready.

The sight of them blocking their escape, keeping them here in this hell, turned Heath's senses to eleven. The world became sharper, he could hear more guards behind yelling and fighing. He could smell the sterile environment of the room, the fresh sea air outside, the sweat of humans controlled by anger, hatred and fear. Heath opened his mouth, the back of his throat starting to glow with a orange-blue.

"No Heath."

Heath closed his mouth and looked to Vic. The taller boy's red eyes were narrowed, scarily so. His whole body shook, his hair starting to fluttering in a non-existent breeze as a faint blue glow surrounded him.

"My turn."

Heath looked at the guards, then back at Vic and nodded, stepping back. Vic clenched his fist, the blue aura surrounding him moving down his arm and began to pulse. Looking again at the guards Vic took a step towards them, and slammed his fist into the ground. The blue aura exploded outwards across the floor like a wave, stopping in front of the guards and cracking the concrete. Like the sound of a landslide carrying off a road the ground beneath the guards erupted, the guards screaming before cutting short. Heath blanched, stomach twisting uncomfortably. The guards had been impaled by sharp rocks that had burst out of the ground.

"Vic," Heath said, taking a step away from his friend bile rising in his throat. He tried not to look at the guards, at their faces, their blood. His mind jumped to the guards in the vents, the one he had attacked. They had gotten out, right?

Vic grabbed Heath by the shoulder and spun him around, away from the dead guards.
"You can't think like that. Not right now. We need to get out of here. You need to focus right now."

"But-" Heath tried to look at the guards again. The room fell away, the whole world spinning like someone had thrown Heath in the washing machine. His vision swam flashing between complete and total darkness and the last room, when his feet hit solid ground, followed by the rest of him.

Heath gasped for breath, his vision still swimming. Something rose in his throat, and he couldn't contain it anymore. Rolling over Heath threw up, wisps of fire and embers mixing with puke, emptying out his stomach.

"Oh God, "Heath groaned wiping his mouth.

A hand grabbed his shoulder.

"You ok," Vic asked, pulling Heath to his feet.

"I threw up."

Vic looked at the mess. "First time teleportation can do that, especially when you're not expecting it."

"And when you're already about to throw up," Heath grumbled, the guards coming to mind; that image, the faces, would be forever seared into his brain.

An explosion ripped through the air, Heath and Vic jumping and swearing loudly. Turning around Heath took in his surroundings, that he was standing outside under a star-filled sky, a crisp wind tugging at his hair and clothes.

And a fuel truck was currently on fire a dozen or so metres away, with three figures running towards them away from the blaze.



"Oh thank God you got out."

"Did you have to set a truck on fire," Vic asked as the three approached.

"Well we had like twenty on our tail, and we didn't have Pyro here to cover our arse. So we improvised," replied a athletic looking girl, who was just shorter than Heath. Like Heath she had tanned skin and red eyes, but her hair was a light blue in colour reaching down to her mid-back. From her forehead grew a three-pointed dark blue crest, and from behind her ears came a pair of long white tendril-like growths. The girl smiled to Heath and Vic, showing off four long fangs, and held up a webbed hand, with strange blue scales.

Heath smiled back at the girl. "Don't you normally put out fires Summer?"

"Again, we had to improvise," answered a small mountain of a man. Standing taller than Vic by about four inches with a well-built body, Adrian looked positively terrifying with his front cast into shadows. He had fair skin leaning towards pale and sky blue eyes, with long wavy steel-grey hair he looked normal, besides his huge size. What stood out as strange about him was the metallic collar that ran down his jawline, leaving his chin open, and the strange plates with jutting spins running down his back. Smiling, showing a set of metallic teeth and two fangs on his lower jaw, Adrian grabbed Vic's hand in his own and pulled him into a hug.

"Guys!" Roza chirped up, looking behind them. "I know everyone's happy that we're outside and we've met up. But we're still on an island with the people who put us here right behind us."

"Where's Matt?" Heath asked looking around the small group, an icy fear running down his spine; he had thought Matt had been with the others.

"This way," Vic said leading the group away from the burning truck and the building, towards a small dock. "We found that Matt could walk through the normal walls, so sent him ahead to try and find a way off the island."

"Has he?" Summer asked.

"He has been trying to figure out how to untie a boat and start it for the last few minutes."

Everyone in the group couldn't help but laugh as they stepped onto the docks. Stopping just where the land meet the wood and steel piers Adrian and Vic stopped and turned, the orange-haired boy starting to glow blue again; Heath stopped and turned, watching the two.

Adrian planted his feet, cracking the wood he stood on, and took a deep breath through his nose, his hands curling into fist.

"What ar-"

Adrian let out an ear-splitting roar. Heath covered his ears, the whole pier shook and the water beneath surged away from the mountain of a man. Still roaring Adrian lifted a hand, the ends of his fingers glowing a steel-colour, and swiped at the metal beams connecting the pier to the island, shearing through them with ease.

Vic on the other hand focused the blue aura into his hand again, the glow pulsing much faster than before, and silently punched the edge of the island. The glow exploded outwards again, the ground cracking and rising up as sharpened rocky points, pointing outwards from the point of impact.

The two stood up and turned to run, not sparing a glance at their handiwork. The two passed Heath, staring at the rocky spikes with a sick feeling in his stomach. He saw the guards again, the blood.


Heath jumped, blinking and looking around him. Summer and Roza were standing on the back of a small three-story luxury yacht waving at him as Vic and Adrian climbing aboard. Heath glanced at the rocks again and started to back away from them, the image of the guards again springing to mind.

"We had to," Heath whispered to himself as he turned and jogged to the yacht. As he got to the end the whole thing shifted forwards, kicking up a small ripple. Heath paused and looked at the water, his joints and limbs freezing up; Despite everything, and how painfully obvious it should have been, and was, Heath only just realised he was standing on, and surrounded by, water.

On the yacht he heard someone mutter "Oh for the love of-". Suddenly Heath felt an invisible force surround his body, lifting him off the pier and keeping him in place, stopping him from freaking out, and brought him up to the top level of the yacht before letting him go.

As soon as he got movement back in his body Heath tensed up like a Meowth, hands trying to dig into the wooden floor, and looked around. Adrian and a purple-haired boy were at the wheel, the taller of the two pushing a throttle as far as it would go, the boat beneath Heath responding in kind shooting off the mark.

A hand fell on Heath's shoulder, helping him up.

"Sorry about that. You froze and we needed to go," Vic said as he steered the Pyro to a seat, Summer and Roza running up the stairs to him.

"It's fine," Heath said with a shaking force, knuckles going white as he held onto the seat.

"Now what?" the purple-haired boy asked, looking back at the group. Vic turned around.

"Now Matt, we find out where we are. Go to the police, the authorities, and try to see if someone and can undo what they did to us."

"Do you really think someone can undo this?" Adrian asked, turning around. "Can change us back to the way we were before?"

"There has to be. I don't particularly want to be half Pokemon for the rest of my life."


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Despite this mask of happiness I drown in dark despair.
The world may be your canvas but what you paint on it beware.
The pen is mightier than the sword. It has no limitations.
Imagination has cursed us all with life.

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