Regularr
patreon
Kaleidoscopic Polaris - Prologue
🕑 Added 2023-08-28 16:16:28 +0000 UTCWords Count: 5169
“Remember, son: Do what is right, not what is easy.” This crucial lesson was deeply instilled in me by my… Father, or rather, the man who embraced the role my absent biological father neglected.
It has become a guiding principle in my life, shaping the way I perceive and approach the world. While I cannot claim to be a saint, I have always strived to be at least decent person in spite of the world’s relentless attempts to convince me otherwise, but I refuse to let it define me. I am well aware of who and what I am.
As my eyes fixate on the sinking car in the distance, a nigh instinctual urge takes over.
Without a second thought, I find myself sprinting towards it, driven by the echoes of fearful feminine screams and panicked yells that pierce through the stillness of the night.
“Hold on!” I shout, determined to offer my help in any way I can. “Help!” An animalistic surge of primal energy courses through my veins, overpowering any and all rational thoughts. It causes my skin to tighten and my muscles to twitch uncontrollably. Ignoring concerns for my own safety, my body undergoes a rapid and astonishing transformation.
In a matter of seconds, I transition from sprinting on two feet to gracefully diving into the water on four as a jaguar- my outfit is left scattered on the floor, tattered and in pieces as I fully embrace my animalistic nature. With remarkable ease, the beast plunges into the water, its size almost rivalling that of a small car.
Swift and determined, it pursues the vehicle, effortlessly navigating the depths in pursuit of its illusive target until we are greeted with the car’s interior. Upon reaching the car, I quickly notice the presence of three individuals inside and deduces that the man is likely the husband and the other two are presumably his wife and daughter. I notice that the younger girl inside the car has an exotic olive skin compared to her parents.
My curiosity takes over, and I find myself unconsciously searching for any other physical similarities while attempting to assess the situation. Unfortunately, both women do not appear to be conscious, but the man’s awake still. His gaze remains uncertain as the beast approaches his SUV, yet when we near he starts to shake his wife’s and daughter’s seat belts violently- the fear visible in his eyes all while the water keeps rising.
As we exchange a final glance, the jaguar’s teeth sink into the car door, and with a mighty yank, the metallic wing is torn free. However, to my dismay, the man points his gun at us, his face filled with uncertainty and dread. We look at him, our crimson eyes flickering with hints of Humanity to display our abnormalities and non-aggression. Understanding briefly crosses his face as the man throws a glance at the young girl still strapped to the metallic death-machine. ‘Her. Help her!’ He silently mouths his request, and I reluctantly comply.
Deep down, I despise admitting it, but sometimes there are no clear right choices, only variations of greater and lesser evils. Observing the man, I estimate his age to be in his late thirties or early forties.
He has experienced life. Conversely, the girl beside him appears to be no more than fifteen or sixteen. She still has an entire lifetime ahead of her… And yet we cannot feel any heartbeat. Taking any longer will spell her doom, and the man appears to understand this as well as we do. As he futilely pull at the belt one last time, the man's desperate gaze meets ours, his eyes then lovingly shifting towards his wife.
Recognizing his silent plea, we tear the seat belts off, wasting no time, we then position the two women side-by-side, aligning the backs of their shirt collars, the jaguar’s impressive bite force is fully utilized. Guiding the beast within me, we exert our combined strength and pull the women to the surface, fighting against the resisting water. From the corner of our vision, I notice the man attempting to free himself and make his way to the surface.
Unfortunately, he becomes entangled once again, his ankle or perhaps the laces of his shoes caught in the remnants of the seat belts.
The abruptness of the situation causes the man to panic, his movements growing increasingly desperate until they abruptly cease. I feel the tingling frustration rise within me, suppressing the urge to scream out in sheer exasperation. It’s been a while since I last visited, and now, on my long-awaited return to Mystic Falls, this tragedy happens… There is no way, right? What am I, a walking omen?!
As we carefully lay the women on the ground, preparing to change back from our animal form, a sense of unease washes over us.
Our fur stands on end, sensing a presence lurking in the nearby woods. Instinctively, our glowing orbs fixate on the source as a branch snaps under the weight of another creature. With a calculated stride, ‘it’ emerges – a figure with dark veins pulsing beneath his eyes and elongated fangs protruding from his lips.
As the realization of the vampire's nature settles within me, I observe the menacing quivering of the yellowish spikes on our form, resembling the threatening rattle of a snake's tail. The stranger, seeming to have sensed our aggression, raises his arms in the universal gesture for surrender. “I just want to help,” He pleads, his voice filled with a mix of urgency and sincerity.
“Here.” He pulls his sleeve up, slices a line across his wrist which, under our gazes, heals in seconds. “My blood- it can heal them, but they need to ingest it.”
Kneeling on the muddy ground, the vampire begs- trying to make himself appear as non-threatening as possible, and though the jaguar advises against it, I still assume control of our form, backing off yet my cautious gaze remains glued to his blurred silhouette. It’s for the best. It’ll be hard for me to perform CPR or mouth-to-mouth as I am, something the girl and her mom are in desperate need of, plus he does not look insincere in his desires to help. Hell, I’ll go as far as to say he is a bit too sincere.
‘Is it the usual case of Hero Complex? Or–’
The scents emanating from the vampire are unmistakable to us. A… Bewildering mixture of emotions fills the air - bafflement, love, hate, intertwined with a touch of lust. These complex emotions waft off his knelt stature in waves. If that weren't enough evidence, his intense gaze fixed upon the girl reveals a fascination in his eyes.
It is extremely clear to me that there is a complicated dynamic at play, but it is also undeniable that the vampire holds some form of affection for the girl.
Observing the enchanting pink atmosphere that envelops the two, I must confess that I feel oddly out of place, as if I have intruded upon their intimate moment. It is as though I am the unwelcome third wheel, the friend invited out of guilt to accompany a couple on their romantic date, only there’s nothing romantic about this and it's still uncertain if the girl and her mother will survive the ordeal– A thought hit us and our eyes widen as we leap into the flowing stream. ‘There’s still–’
Regrettably, our efforts prove to be in vain.
The man's lifeless corpse begins to bloat, slowly ascending to the water's surface. Helplessly, we witness his body being taken by the swift current of the river. It soon becomes painfully evident to us that there’s no saving him now- not from that.
With a heavy sigh, we retrieve the man's body and bring it to the safety of the land. It is the least we can do to honor a man who made the selfless choice to prioritize his family's well-being over his own life. He could have easily chosen to save himself, but he made the noble sacrifice of putting his loved ones first. Guy’s a better man than most can claim, a man whom I can and- rightfully so- should respect.
Without uttering a word, we gently guide the man's body toward the vampire, who stands there in a daze. Next, we swiftly disappear into the depths of the woods, leaving the vampire behind.
As we make our departure, we catch a glimpse of him shooting up, his hand outstretched as though trying to call us back… However, his attention quickly shifts as we hear the sound of the two women coughing, roughly expelling the water from their lungs. In the split instant when he’s distracted, we rush deeper- vanishing just as quickly as we had appeared earlier.
Torn between pursuing and taking care of the defenseless two, the vampire finally sits, hand reaching for a phone in his pocket as he feeds them his blood. Instantaneously, their wounds mend, and only then do I dare let loose a sigh of relief. It does not look like he’s going to hurt them without us there, and he is even pulling out his phone to call the emergency services! Good man. We nod approvingly, before going further and thus away from the Wickery Bridge.
Tonight's events have exposed the inherent danger of the bridge. Despite this, the wealthy upper class, who essentially rule over Mystic Falls, probably won’t take action and replace the hazardous structure until it has claimed a few more lives at least. It is disheartening but unfortunately typical of their disregard for the safety and well-being of the small community.
Instead of utilizing their resources and influence for the betterment of the community, they seem to prioritize shallow parties that offer little enjoyment or genuine connection.
Their frivolous endeavors pale in comparison to the real needs and issues that the town faces yet the Founding Families always act like they are hovering inches above the ground compared to the rest of us. Some of them are genuinely good, don’t get me wrong! But many are just awful people trying to hide their crimes and insecurities under their expensive clothes and shiny accessories.
A prime example of the insensitivity and self-centered nature of the wealthy upper class is Logan Fell.
He not only impregnated my mother and abandoned her for another woman named Jenna, but I later learned he even left Jenna for someone else. It is highly likely that he has no knowledge of my existence, as my mother was already halfway down the spiral of insanity by the time I became. I doubt she would’ve been able to share the news with him, crazy as she was. ‘Home–’
“Grrr- Sweet home.”
Growling, I shift back into my true form, standing before the familiar sight of the Mystic Grills. This establishment, which I had once considered fancy or high-end in my younger days, now only serves as a painful reminder of my past experiences.
The last time I set foot here, I was chased out by the owner, who viewed me as nothing more than a nuisance tarnishing his business. I was just another street rat in his eyes, someone he believed would be detrimental to his business, never mind the fact I was not hurting anyone or causing troubles.
It is one of those crimes where the only victim’s myself.
In fact, I still have all the scratches and battle-scars against the local raccoon population to show. The scenery is enough to bring tears to my eyes as nostalgia slams into me with the same force of an eighteen-wheeler plummeting down a cliff. I never thought I’d return, yet here I am- back in the place that undoubtedly has a hand in shaping me into what and who I now am today.
I can’t help wondering if my mother’s place is still vacant, untouched by people since.
Thoughts of her flood my mind as I contemplate the possibility of revisiting the empty space that once held so many memories- negative memories predominantly.
The prospect brings a mix of both hope and trepidation as I pull a black t-shirt, a pair of faded jeans and sport shoes from my Bag of Holding to finish the casual look. It is not too eye-catching, perfect for blending in with the local population but not too shabby as to draw unnecessary attention.
Every step I take makes me feel like I’m wearing lead-filled shoes, and the closer I get- the louder the noises of the populace going about their night drinking and partying grow, the more anxious I become. Inhaling deeply, I steady my breathing and push my way inside, immediately coming in contact with the gentle glow of the dimly-lit bulbs. Little has changed in regard to its furniture, although I do notice a more homey atmosphere to the establishment.
Rows of people, both men and women of various ages, move in a continuous cycle of activity at the Mystic Grills. Unlike my previous experience, this establishment now flourishes with a substantial and devoted customer base. The bustling atmosphere indicates that it has grown into a popular and thriving hotspot for many in the community.
Thanks to that, the presence of new faces doesn’t usually draw much attention. The locals often refer visitors to the establishment, making it a common gathering spot for those passing through Mystic Falls.
However, I can't help but feel the gaze of a… Less than flattering brunette focused on me, a reminder that being attractive comes with its own set of drawbacks.
With confidence rivalling a world-class supermodel and the face of a melted doll, the woman- early, maybe mid twenties judging by her scent, even though her appearance says otherwise- strides towards me. Not wanting to catch an instant domestic abuse case, I make a 180° for the exit, only to stumble into a girl in a tank top and a pair of rather skimpy shorts. She’s African-American, with features I swear are intimately familiar to me. Then, I remember.
“You’re–!”
— [Kaleidoscopic Polaris] —
{Six Months Earlier}
As I sway to the rhythm of the music, I notice the lovebird's unwavering gaze still fixed upon me. Her name is Nanna, chosen more out of convenience than any sentimental meaning. In all honesty, I hadn’t known what to do or expect when I first picked this chubby, shrill antichristup from the pet store, but she has since grown on me. Her tiny, colorful blue wings bring a sort of vibrancy to my otherwise greyed out life.
It’s not like I’ve not tried to turn everything around, it’s just hard to do so while paying for two kids, a widowed housewife, their mortgage plus my own living expense as well… It’s the least I can do for him.
(“Everyone carries their own traumas and baggage, son.”
He had told me, gaze boring into my soul. “Ultimately it is up to you whether you rise above it or allow it to drag you down.”
Those words had resonated deep within me, a constant reminder of the resilience and strength required to overcome the challenges life presents.)
My way to compensate the man who has saved me from the dark path I was about to descend.
“Caesar, ready for your first big fight?”
Coach's voice breaks through my thoughts, grounding me in the present moment.
As I stand up, dressed in nothing but loose boxing shorts and padded gloves, I flash the man a confident smirk and raise my thumb in affirmation. "Ready as I will ever be!" I declare, my determination shining in my eyes.
Being a new and aspiring MMA fighter is undeniably tough. The physical toll of constant pummeling from fellow fighters, the presence of doping among opponents, and the evident favoritism displayed by individuals like Danna all form significant challenges. Despite the hardships, I find myself making only a modest amount per fight, most of which goes directly towards supporting my adopted family and covering the associated medical expenses. It is a constant struggle to balance my passion for the sport with the financial responsibilities I bear.
Casting a glance at Nanna, I whistle, gesturing for her to enter the cage.
Ever obedient, she complies, though not without playfully nipping at my nose. The bond between us is evident, and we have developed a unique trust and understanding. I need not keep her caged, she merely feels less anxious away from loud noises and inside where her nest. ‘Typical avian behaviors.’
The announcer's voice booms through the arena, introducing the fighters for the upcoming match. “On the left, weighing in at 185lbs and standing at 6'7, we have Caine ‘Killer’ Larson!" The crowd erupts into cheers and applause as we march out of the tunnels.
“And to our right! A new addition to the League weighing in at 175lbs! He is 6’3. Despite that pretty face of his, underestimating him will be a poor decision as many have learnt. Give it up for the 'Boy Wonder', Julius Caesar Campbell!”
The anticipation in the air grows as the spotlight shines on me, and the cheers from the crowd become even louder. The energy and excitement fill the air, setting the stage for an intense battle. Despite the daunting odds stacked against me, I hold the unwavering belief that I will emerge victorious for there is a secret, one that only I am privy to, about my body.
It is this very secret that has propelled my rapid rise to fame and success. With this advantage, I feel confident in my abilities to overcome any that will come in my way. “I'm sure you already know the rules, but...” The referee begins to list off a series of rules and regulations, reminding us both of the guidelines we have to adhere to during the match.
I listen intently, fully aware of the regulations but appreciating the importance of a fair and safe contest. My opponent, Mr. Killer focuses on intimidation tactics instead, imitating Mike’s teeth grinding.
The referee's words serve to heighten the anticipation and focus within me as I prepare for the fight ahead. Before long, the resonating sound of the bell echoes in the air, signaling the start of the fight.
Without hesitation, we explode into action, our bodies charged with adrenaline. I keep my focus sharp, assessing Caine's movements, looking for any openings to exploit. With each calculated strike and evasive maneuver, I strive to maintain a sense of control in the fight.
Caine, towering before me, utilizes his range advantage to unleash powerful punches and kicks. I weave through his attacks, relying on my speed and agility to evade his onslaught. Landing precise strikes to his midsection and legs, I manage to weaken him- driving the air from his lungs as I pursue the retreating man relentlessly. A symphony of agonized grunts, heavy breaths, and the occasional smack of contact echoes throughout the arena.
The impact of each blow is palpable, reverberating through my body. I feel the sting of his strikes, reminding me of the harsh reality of combat. But I push through, fueled by the fire within me and my unyielding determination to prevail.
As the fight intensifies, I move with calculated precision, combining defensive maneuvers with swift counterattacks.
Every strike, every evasion is grounded yet nonetheless deadly, drawing upon years of training and experience. The fight is a test of endurance and skill, both physical and mental.
The crowd roars, their voices merging into a cacophony of encouragement and excitement. The energy fuels my resolve, pushing me to dig deeper into my reserves of strength and determination.
Sweat beads on my brow, and my muscles ache from the exertion, but I refuse to falter. In the midst of the grueling battle, a moment of opportunity presents itself. I seize it, launching a powerful combination that catches Caine off guard. The crowd erupts in astonishment as my strikes land true, hammering at his jaws…
The fight hangs in the balance, each of us refusing to yield.
Time stretches as the final seconds tick away. Just as fatigue threatens to consume me, I summon a final surge of energy- veins pulsing on my forehead as my heartrate spikes which distributes adrenaline throughout my body. With a display of sheer willpower, I deliver a crushing blow that sends Caine crashing to the mat.
Caine has gone in for the KO, only to receive my entire shin to his chest. The arena explodes with deafening applause and cheers while the referee raises my hand.
Sweat-soaked and battered, I stand victorious, yet a foreboding sensation continues to drill a hole at the bottom of my stomach. Movements catch my attention and I wrench myself out of his grasp, racing to my convulsing opponent. In an instant, cheers turn to shocked gasps as he struggles for Life. “Medics, WHERE THE HELL IS THE FREAKING MEDIC?!”
Urgently, I yell and wave for the stunned medics to enter the octagon.
With a rush of adrenaline, they finally spring into action, coming to Caine's aid, but it’s too late. He’s beginning to foam at the mouth, and I know no skill to save him. “Oh Gods…” The words spill from my lips involuntarily, and I fall with a thud next to his prone body. Time slows as I sit cross-legged, motionlessly watching the medical personnel try and save him, but–
{Timeskip}
–It has been half a month since I decided to retire from fighting for good. Caine’s family has refrained from commenting on the matter thus far, though I can feel their disapproving glares jabbing in my back at every public events we attend. I can’t blame them. MMA’s supposed to be a sport, not a battle to the death and I- Well, I crossed that line when I killed him. Many think I deserve to be in prison- that I merely escaped judgement because of the contract Caine had signed.
He is- was a promising fighter, a father-to-be and I took his life...
To benefit myself...
Luckily Nanna's soothing trills keep the nightmares at bay, preventing my mind from spiraling into madness. She is my solace in this chaotic world, always offering companionship when I’m in need.
The gym- my once sanctuary, a place where understanding pervades among fellow fighters who comprehend the challenges we willingly face, feels alien. Despite their lack of judgment, the pitying gazes from others still sting deeply.
Sitting down, I hold my phone tightly in my palms, my legs restlessly kicking as I seek comfort in Nanna's presence.
With closed eyes, I listen to her calming and cheerful song. "What should I do, girl?" I ask the bird, though I don't anticipate a response. Continuing to scratch Nanna's head, who does not look at all bothered by the uncertainty of the future, I chuckle. “It sure is easy being a bird, huh? Just eating, playing, sleeping and defecating all day long… If only my life’s that simple too.”
Returning to Mystic Falls is a notion that tugs at my heart. It's a small, picturesque town where everyone seems to be interconnected. Another upside is, years have passed since I left, and the memories of me probably have faded in the minds of its residents. Those who do remember me might be older now, possibly losing the sharpness of their recollections.
Yet, the pull of nostalgia and the desire for connection seems to lure me back to Mystic Falls. There, the possibility of a fresh start exists, a chance to rediscover the town and its inhabitants. Hell, maybe I will finally muster up the courage to visit my adoptive family.
Parched, I quench it by downing the bottled water before standing up. There is no use dwelling on the misfortunes that have befallen me.
Fate can be unkind, thus in order to persevere, we can only adapt and adjust accordingly.
"Let's go home... What do you say?" I ask Nanna, my voice filled with a mix of longing and remorse. Nanna blinks lazily at me, her innocent gaze momentarily easing the weight of guilt on my shoulders. With her trilling happily, I can't help but smile. "Let's go home," I affirm, Nanna echoing my sentiments.
Just as I utter those words, a notification pings on my phone, interrupting the moment.
The sudden spike of anxiety causes me to cringe, my hands shaking nervously as I open the device.
Expecting to be confronted with another reminder of my crime, I brace myself for the worst. Fortunately, the message is not from the UFC, but another Organization– “The Magnus Foundation? Is this a scam?” I’ve never heard of their name before, which’s weird because I know about every MMA Organizations in the country. I have researched them thoroughly, and this name doesn’t ring a bell. “The Hell am I doing?” When did I become such a coward? To be fearful of opening a damn message?
With a flick of my finger, I open my phone to be greeted by a mesmerizing sight. A beautifully decorated website unfolds before my eyes, featuring a background of golden branches that seem to reach and intertwine infinitely. As I stare at the screen, texts flash intermittently, captivating my attention with their mystical allure.
[Good afternoon, Mr. Campbell.]
“Uhmmm… Hi?” I murmur, feeling the urge to palm my face. Seriously, what am I doing? How can an automated message hears me…? It’s probably somebody’s prank–
[I can assure you, this is no prank Mr. Campbell. My name’s Annabella Magnum, the daughter of Magnus’ Founder and you’ve been selected to test our latest invention.]
“I- You- What? How are you doing this?!” I demand, flipping my phone over to check if there is any new attachment I have failed to notice prior.
[It’s called Technopathy, Mr. Campbell. And it can be yours as well, if you agree to the terms and conditions of our Contract.]
As I take in the sight before me, a sense of caution washes over me. A feeling of unease creeps up, fueled by the realization that I- who is at my lowest, am being confronted with an extremely sketchy message from an unknown caller ID promising extraordinary abilities and the impossible… While the allure of acquiring superpowers may be enticing, I can't help but view this as a sham and even if it isn’t, delving into such mysterious promises feels akin to striking a deal with the Devil.
The instinctive understanding that things too good to be true often come with a heavy price leaves me with a sense of trepidation and fear. The urge to throw the phone into the bush is there- realer than ever, yet something stops me from doing so- something… Unexplainable and alien.
[You feel it too, don’t you? It’s the Pull. You were destined for glory, we seek only to make you greater.]
I scoff at the idea, knowing all too well that there are no free meals in this world. Suspicion lingers as I consider the proposition.
Addressing the person behind the website, my skepticism is evident.
“Assuming I choose to believe you, from my experiences there's always a price to be paid. So, what’s it you want in exchange?" I inquire, searching for clarity and transparency before proceeding any further.
[Nothing but your data.]
“Data?” I repeated with a scrunched nose and furrowed eyebrows.
[As I’ve said, our system’s in its beta-testing stage. We’ll collect your data to improve the existing functions, maybe add a few quality-of-life changes?]
I lean back, the skepticism in my eyes giving way to a tinge of amusement. "Let me get this straight," I remark, voice laced with a cautious tone. "You want me to sign up to be a beta-tester for your experimental system, with all the potential risks and uncertainties it entails?"
Shaking my head slightly, I offer a wry smile. "Much as I appreciate the offer, it's a hard pass for me." The hint of irony in my voice makes it clear that I'm not interested in taking that kind of risk.
[Don’t you want Power?]
With a nonchalant shrug, I express my contentment with my current abilities. The innate capability to produce and distribute adrenaline throughout my body has proven to be advantageous thus far. I see no reason to introduce additional powers, particularly when I am struggling to control my existing strength. The tragedy that occurred serves as a stark reminder that I must focus on mastering my current abilities before even considering any potential enhancements.
[… Wealth?]
Important, but not really something to prioritize. Money’s necessary to live a good life, but it’s not something I desperately crave.
[Seriously, what do you want? Bitches?!]
I raise an eyebrow at the sudden and inappropriate remark. Clearing my throat, I address the inappropriate suggestion directly. “I apologize, but that kind of language and objectification is not something I condone. It's important to treat everyone with respect and equality, regardless of gender or any other factor.”
I maintain a diplomatic tone, barely acknowledging the absurdity of the situation.
[You NPC… You realize I’m a woman, right?!]
“Ya’ don’t say. Question: How many men named Annabella have you seen before?” Perhaps it’s just my imagination, but for a brief instance a high-pitched, frustrated screech that makes my ears bleed dominates my hearing. “Okay, look. Whatever it is you’re selling, I ain’t buying, yo.”
[Yo… Yo?! Seriously? Who even talks like that? Look, I really need your help. My dad is super strict, I practically had to beg for this opportunity. If I mess it up, I won't be able to access the Omniversal Net for a whole month. Can you imagine? I'd be so bored, I might actually die because of it!]
“You may have exaggerated a little there.” I sigh, continuing after a brief pause. “And I’m not gonna sign my soul away to help a troubled teenager.” Just as I'm about to exit the website, I notice the person behind it smashing a jumble of random letters, numbers, and symbols on their keyboard in a panic.
[Kutdhie26ol_/÷%*(=47wo2/;;%— Wait, please! At least listen to what I have to say!]
Inhale… Exhale… “Fine! Shoot.”
[Have you never wondered what it would be like to engage with fictional characters? Haven't you ever yearned for the adventures and meaningful relationships that are often portrayed on screens or in books?]
“I rarely go to the cinema and I can’t afford a TV. Next.” I yawn in boredom, feet impatiently tapping as I check my watch.
[Resurrection! If you grow strong enough, you can resurrect anyone you want!]
At that, my hand stills. “There’s always a price.”
[Which is completely negligible at a certain level.]
“Who’d I even resurrect?”
[Caine Larson for starter… Him and Eli–]
“That’s enough!” I shout, throwing my hand up. “What’re you selling?”
A smiling emoji flashes on the phone screen, followed by a line of texts.
[J I knew you’d be reasonable! Julius Campbell, it is your lucky day. I offer thee, the Magnus Gates, now available digitally in the form of the Magnus App!]
And… I’m regretting this already.
Nanna trills, as though echoing the same sentiment.
