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They called me FIVE

**READ ME** THIS BOOK WILL BE UNDER REVISION. ******* My name? Lance Augustus Age? 15 Nickname? Five. Why they call me that? Because the mark tells us so. _________________________________ "Don't be stupid, steer out of trouble, and whatever happens, stay alive."  I really don't know why Dad always repeat those words to me everyday. I take heed of his words. Play by his rules, never dared to go against him except if it's extremely necessary. He's all that I need to get by. Our life was ordinary. Everything was perfectly fine, perfectly normal, just an everyday routine we get used to live. But then this guy calling himself 'The Seeker' came... And he start making a mess out of my life.  He said I have powers. - Who believe that crap? He said I have extraordinary abilities. - Cool! I want to be Superman. He said I was chosen. - Who? The god of newbie bullies? The mark of five imprinted deep into my skin proves that I am one of the TWELVE. - You sure it's not a tattoo? I firmly believe it's a tattoo. I never believe him. I drove him out. I did not listen. I wish I did. Maybe he could have help me. Maybe he could have save me from the trouble of falling right into their trap. I know nothing. Because of my stubbornness I lost everything. So now I'm all alone. But she stretch her hand to me. She gave me hope. She invited me to come. And I did. So our search began. For the remaining TEN. ___________________________________

phoenixhyperion · Urbain
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243 Chs

Let's run for bust size

LANCE

Dad stepped on the road in zigzag driving. Not because he sucks, its just our car is old model. Very tattered. The white color scraped, the front looks like a face strip out of its flesh and the cheekbone protrudes. Many times the engine died and tire broke down. Thrice we need to get out of the car and have it push to hike rocky slopes.

"Dad, you know what? Forget it. We're not gonna make it. I'm late for two hours already." I wiped the sweat in my forehead and flopped my white polo uniform, hoping it could reduce the heat.

"We'll get there, just have faith. Now come on, one more push." He bend his body and stretch his arms, using his legs to draw strength on his muscles.

My arm started to itch. I slapped the area, thinking it was just a lost mosquito friend trying to suck my blood. But it wasn't.

The itching grew painful. I scratch and rub and pinch until my arm is red than beet root. But the itching keeps getting worse.

It was until later I realize it's the part where the tattoo of 5 hurts.

"Dad? It's really not you who'd done this to me?"

I held out my arm towards him.

"Absolutely not."

In an attempt to ease the itchiness, I wrapped my handkerchief around it. Don't know if it's effective. But I gotta try.

And then...something weird happened. The handkerchief...it was white, spotless and first time use. A bargain sale from a very cheap grocery store with overly bearded clerk. I'm sure I wrapped it around my arm.

Yet now, it return to my pocket. All with black spots and flail. The cotton worn out when I fish it out of my pants.

It's like I use it to rub a charcoal soot out of a frying pan, the dirt got transferred and no soap can rid of it.

"Lance?" I immediately stuffed the handkerchief to my pockets and look at Dad.

"We're clearly wasting time here. Take the cornfields as a shortcut to get you to school in time. The road is two miles away but greenplants here are only half a mile away from the school."

"Okay..." I hopped towards the passenger seat and take out my bag.

"What about you Dad? What will you do?"

"Wait for help I guess? I'll phone Pete, maybe he could lend me a hand towing this junk." He grunt and kicked the wheels.

An air punched out and we looked at each other.

"Oldy moldy junk." I shrugged. "Told ya to buy a new one. Why won't you listen?"

He frown. "This baby has been with me through rough and good times. There's no way I could throw that away."

A wire click from the front and a small explosion popped like air balloon. Moment later the gas is leaking and my Dad was the first to bolt from the scene.

If he didn't tell me to run I would've stand there staring after him, waiting for the car to explode like hand made bomb.

I'm sprinting in the fields, stems and leaves smack me in the face. I couldn't see where Dad was.

But I could hear his heavy footsteps. His crazy laugh. It has rained recently and the ground splurts under my black leather shoes. Transforming it from black shiny orb to mud gray dirt.

I grinned at the sensation. The sun is rocket high in the sky. The wind is crazy strong, blowing in every direction. I feel new surge of energy coursing through my body. Reviving my muscles.

I quicken my legs. Leaped at a pair or two giant corns and bleat. Dad shouted something between,

'head east and get to school'

'busts sized are at west, see ya!'

I think the bust size part is just my imagination.

Ten minutes later and I'm facing the ugliest, metal rusted gate that fell apart after I tried opening it. I'm not sure if I came to the right place.

There's no sign of students or any humans here. Just weeds and a paved rocky roads with small wooden house at the left.

Taking my chances, I hop and scuttled over squishy dirt. I was looking ahead. Not what was in front of me. I made a mistake of planting my feet and almost got swallowed by the ground in the ankle.

"Wha - What are you doing here? Students ain't allowed in this parts!"

I looked around, trying to locate where the old snarling voice came from. Right at the porch of the wooden house, is a man in brown jackets with long wornout trousers and a black cap. I couldn't make out his face. But I know he's glaring at me with trembling mouth.

How I know that? Intuition. And the way he stuttered at the first part of his speech. I could clearly tell if someone doesn't like me.

And he's one of them.

"Sorry! I'm just trying to find the entrance gate for Pavlar Academy!"

"Phalthorn Academy!" He corrected.

"You know where is it?"

He thrust his hand to the left, his finger is shaking vigorously.

"He - head straight and turn left when you see the road."

"How far?"

"As far as your mouth from your eyes moron!"

Before I could ask what he meant, he stormed back into his small house. Or should I call it a hut? No, no, there's no leaves.

I gingerly set the gate back to it's position before and scan the muddy area.

Wait...

Those weeds, are they dead before? I remember green not brown withered grass.

I hang around for almost ten minutes before I jog again. The surge energy I had before came back. The cornfields ended at the gate, now there's nothing except plain hill of rocks and dirt.

I did as the old man asked and head straight. When I found the road he's referring to...

At least I think it is, because the space is enough for a car to drive through and the road is shaved in asphalt.

I turn left and stop jogging. Once or twice I looked around the empty bump hills. Sometimes I see big rocks piling into spikes.

Ahead, I caught the sound of boys and girls talking. Just beyond the big century old oak tree.

What greets me is not a gate, but a plain big field of yard with students flocking around like goose. I'm aware I'm two hours late. Aren't they supposed to be in class?

I bypass one group of rainbow haired girls exchanging nervous glances to each other and whispering to themselves.

"Hey, did you hear? Why classes are interrupted in the middle?"

"The principal called for emergency meeting right?"

"That's news for me. Since when did she calls for all staff emergency meeting?"

"I heard this from one of the janitors. The principal drove here by car when she saw something."

"Wow, like what?"

There was a long pause. An overdramatic gasp, the leading gossiper waved to a guy at the far left. They clearly never noticed me standing a good ten foot away from them. Pretending to crouched down and dust out the mud - which is useless by the way.

"The cornfields that farmers exhaustingly took care of for harvest today... You know, the one we passed by two miles from here... Half of it is suddenly dead."

I flinched in surprise. Cornfields? It was only a few minutes ago I sprint through them. And I swear to god all of it is still green and healthy.

Before you judge a man, walk a mile in his shoes. After that who cares? He's a mile away and you've got his shoes!

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