Prologue: The Black Pearl.

Ezekiel ran. He just recently beaten the shit out of the sheriff's son after that little bastard made fun of his dead parents. His parents, killed by a drunken officer only a year ago, was not convicted by the people of this bum fuck county. The people themselves, mostly comprised of the religious harcore types that prefer an authoritarian theocratic state over secular one, where religion needs to be separated to protect the minority. There are also a few kooky leftist, the ones that are anti nuclear energy and antivaccination types. Little of the town is normal. It is the type of town that allowed a rapist go free because he looks like a good religious person. Even with pictures of bruising and a rape kit showing something had occurred, they preferred the young man's words over the victim. Hell, they even shunned her and her family and she was no longer welcomed at the local church and the family was forced to move. Ezekiel beleived the young woman. Well, the odds are stacked in her favor since research shows that only approximately only 5% of reported rape are false. A better statistic is that only 10% of females would even report sexual assault of any kind.

Honestly, he never did like it here. There are only a few people he cares about, while the majority is caught under the spell of a preacher spreading the message of hate, and a sheriff with ties to groups of white supremacists. Talk about a dangerous combination. The preacher would use his influence to talk about the evils of abortion, birth control is a sin, gays would go to hell, Mexican stealing jobs that Americans don't want. As for the sheriff, he would target any minority, including some of Ezekiel's friends, and harass them constantly if they are out and about in town. Once, they were nearly pelted by rocks from a passing police cruiser, waving the confederate flag. The irony is that they call themselves patriotic, and yet, wave the rebel flag. Talk about not having any sort of level of awareness. He often wonders how they can function with all that twisted logic. He often wonders how they even get any sort of coherent picture when a lot of their views can often contradict one another.

His thumping heart raced quickly, sweat pooring down his face, and his chest aching from the constant stresss placed upon it. Yet, if he stopped now, things would be over for him. He would never get a fair trial here, the people have a bias towards him because he dains to be different and call them out on their hypocracy. No one likes that, especially those that believe they have the moral superiority over others and beleive that they have a right to impose their religion onto others, Christianity's own version of Sharia law. It is the same people that would respond that the US should be a Christian nation or is founded as one. Funny that, a lot of the founding fathers, like Jefferson, Thomas, and Franklin, were not Christians. Even the pledge of allegiance didn't have the phrase 'under god' until the year 1954. It is the same unaware fuckers that don't realize that some of the Mexican ancestors once populated Texas to California. The odd thing is, if a person looks into the mirror and their skin nearly matches the color of cream, and in some cases an orange, their own ancestors are immigrants.

Running in the woods without any direction in particular, Ezekiel spots a small opening in a cave wall. He would have missed it, trees and other plants nearly covering the entrance. The only reason why he noticed it was due to the fact he kept an eye out for a place to hide. The police are not yet behind him, it would take them about 10 minutes to respond to any calls and so far, it had been only approximately 7 minutes according to his watch.

Seeing a stream, Ezekiel walked onto it, backtracking towards the cave and hoping this would buy him some time. He had often read about shit like this in other novels. He hoped that this action is correct and he can escape. He was already taken in by a friend of the family, he doesn't want to bring any trouble to their own door. They were his support. They gave him a home when no one else wanted him, not even his own relatives. No one wanted the trouble from the police.

Inside the cave, Ezekiel sat on the stone floor,, his back resting against the wall. He kept taking deep breaths, his aching chest protesting under the punishment he had put it through. His clothes are dirty, mud stained and smelled of sweat and other funk he picked up at the stream. He brushes his shaggy brown hair out of his face, the wet locks slicked back and he now wished he had a hair cut when he had the chance. Hazel eyes, the color of the storm, peered out of the cave, seeing if anyone had tailed him yet or not. The coast was clear and he moved back inside and sat down again.

As he sat, his hands came across a rectangular object. Curious, his hand moved about in the dark until he found a box of sorts. The cover itself was smooth and almost has a glassy feel on the exterior. Curious, he picked up the object. The box itself is no longer than his hand and nearly the same dimension save for the height, which measures about the thickness of his forearms, which isn't too bad for a youth of 16.

The first odd thing he noticed was the water just simply sliding off of the box. In fact, it pushed the mud dirt and water off of his own hand, leaving them clean which amazed Ezekiel. The other oddity is that, the box looks oriental, something found perhaps in ancient China. It is very ornate, with some gold trimming and made of material that Ezekiel is unassure of. Some scripts in black writing covered the entire box over a material he now suspect is jade. Well, he assumed so. He has read a lot of web novels on Chinese cultures and even if it is a far cry into Chinese society and culture, he frankly has nothing better to work with. Most of his studies so far revolved around Western civilization starting with the little knowledge around the fertile crecent.

Pulling at the clasp that held the lid down, Ezekiel slowly opened the box. He would hate to have something crawl out or some dangerous fumes leaving the box. As he opened it, he could make out something but the light is too insufficient to make it out properly. To get a better view, Ezekiel inched closer to the opening of the cave. Just enough to see what is inside.

Ezekiel is disappointed. In that expensive looking container, all he found was some odd black marble or something. The thing left him feeling frustrated. If it was something like gold, or even perhaps some sort of ancient text, he could do something. But a marble, who would actually beleive him it is worth something when it appears to be new. He placed so much hope into that box and he thought it was his ticket out of this hellhole.

Angered, his hopes had been crushed just like that, he tried throwing away the box. But, to his horror, his entire body is locked in place. Nothing moved, save for his rhythmic beating chest and his wild moving eyes. In those stormy depths, only the dread of something wrong occurring can be expressed to the outside world. From a distance, he would appear no different than a statue made of flesh, his body frozen and rooted to the ground.

Then, it moved, the black orb rolled out of the box and moved along Ezekiel's arm. It rolled like a ball, somehow defying gravity and it rolled to the underside of his arm and into the sleeve of his t-shirt. He can feel it. It rolled onto his chest and worked its way down until it reached his belly button. Pain! A sharp searing pain. Ezekiel can feel his flesh parting and something moving inside of his abdomen. Before he could try and scream out in pain, the world blacked out around him and the sweet bliss of unconsciousness took his mind to a place far away.