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Fanfiction ► For I have power.



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Cicero

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This is just a weird story formed by my crazy brain.

I've been thinking about how a story would evolve with the main character having absolute power, and without the cliches of other people suddenly becoming strong to, just to make competition for the main character. How would such a person use his power? Like he's a God, a dictator, ruling everything? Or maybe more like a saint, helping everyone?

I don't know which direction this fanfiction will take eventually. I just thought I'd put the beginning here already, and see what happens when I continue it.

Well, I'll just throw it out there then.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

For I have power.




These winds will blow,
in any direction but mine.
For you have no power,
and I will be fine.

These weapons shall run,
through flesh, but not mine.
For they have no power,
thus I will be fine.

These waters will flow,
and all will be mine.
For it has no power,
even comparing to mine.

You people will kneel,
before these feet of mine.
FOR I HAVE POWER,
and you...will be mine.​




Prologue: Dreaming of Power.

I walked just around the corner, when the brawl of thunder struck my ears. Light flashed through the lashes of my eyes. Cold that I was, a shiver rolled over my spine. The remnants of clothes covering my body were drenched due the rain that accompanied that terrifying thunder. And as I tried to walk my way straight, I couldn't help but wonder...what am I doing here? For the paintings on the wall couldn't arise any memory or recognition. Wait, how did I get inside? Wasn't I standing in the rain? Wasn't the thunder shivering my skin just now? What is this room? A painting?

Stop. What was that? Did the man move? The man on the painting. Yes. He did, didn't he? What is it for painting anyway? Just a man? No, there is a woman with him...was she on it before? 'Well, I'll just keep watching while I try drying my clothes.'

I saw it as I looked down: my clothes were gone. Why were my clothes gone? Where did they go? 'And why am I thinking about my stupid clothes, what about the painting I was just watching..?'

Grmbl.

Grmbl?

The amazing cold of a naked night outside entangled me as raindrops touched my skin once again. The room had vanished, and the sound of thunder returned to strike my ears. I sat down on the ground of solid rock and put my arms around my legs, but it couldn't help... The cold got a grip of me... The sound had deafend me... The rain had drowned me...

...

I can feel it.

I can feel it.

I can feel it.

This thrill, this sensation. Oh my, this feels good... I can feel it coming on to me, taking a hold of what I felt up till now. The cold is drained, the sound deafened, the rain taken, for I have power.

Power? What Power? What am I thinking? When did I get it? What is this feeling?

Hahaha!

Why am I laughing?

Why do I care? I have power.

Yes, I have power.

I can feel it.

...who was the man?


--------------------------------------------------------------------

Enjoy.
 
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Darkness Princess

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Ooo...
I like this; it has the potential to develop into an interesting story. ^_^
The prologue is a bit short but thats just my preference, I prefer things to be a bit longer... Anyways, I'll be following this. ^_^

Yay! First comment. <3
 

Cicero

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Thanks for the comment. <3

Anyway, as I said, this is a story with someone who has absolute power, so it was pretty difficult to keep it normal, and not letting it become like 'He destroyed everything except for what he liked, and lived happily ever after...' xD

I finally chose for a young male character, not because of the cliche of always using youngsters as heroes for rps or fanfics, but because young people, thanks to puberty, have a whole different way of thinking, with stronger emotions of both happiness and sadness, which will do this story good. I chose for a male, simply because I am one, and to write the story with a girl as character is just ten times as hard.. =P

Oh, and yeah, the build-up of the story is weird, I know, but from the following chapter it will be chronological, with maybe just some flashbacks and flashforward using the diary I will introduce in this first chapter. I just need some more time to figure out how it all started.

Well, let's just kick off with the first chapter! Enjoy!

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 1: Dear Diary,



Sub-chapter 1: While thoughts are shivering.
Timeschedule: Present, Diary date: 15 - 06 - '11


15 - 06 - '11​
Dear diary,

I know it has been months since I last wrote to you, my friend. My one and only true friend. This fact saddens my still while I know that I didn't have much of a choice. After the crisis I, simply put, wasn't able to convince myself that this was needed. But the time has come to face myself.

I write to you this time not like before; to clear my thoughts, to get back on track, and above all, to record my feelings and thoughts so I could come to understand my existence better. This time I write to you out of melancholy, out of pure desire to remember. Remember how it was before the dream, before I got this blessing...this horrible curse. I just can't seem to look at myself in the mirror anymore. Horrific abomination of a man. Despicable creature. Bah.
Thus I write to you, so that you may remind me of who I am. I crave for a memory, a solid proof that I am whom I was...a human. Please, dear friend, help me keep my sanity...


Teardrops fell on the slim paper, togheter with Marten's pen, which had slipped right through his shivering fingers. The young man buried his crying face in his hands, and althought this display of emotions might suggest a thought of sadness or lost, his mind stayed empty. Empty as the world surrounding him. Empty, like any other day.

Slowly his hand moved, and the stream of tears came to an halt. He closed the diary, which was close to being completed, and opened it on the first page afterwards.

'In search of happines' Read the title, followed by the subtitle, or more the explanation: 'The journey of a boy who lost his identity in the world of today, and tried to remember who he was...The journey of an ordinary child.'

This was the first page of the diary he started when he was only 14 years old. When he had just lost his identity, his being, into the seemingly endless emotional hurricane of adolescense. The fase every human has to go through to become an adult, for as we all know, nothing can really be appreciated if it hasn't been lost once.

Still without much haste, Marten skipped through the pages as foto's, sentences, headlines and names where burned on his retina. Memories passed through his mind, but only for seconds. Nothing stayed for long, nothing was recognized. As if he read a simple story instead of his own past.

Discouraged by the still sheer absensce of his feelings and emotions, he closed the diary once more and stood up. He shove his chair under the desk and put the diary back in the closet where it belonged. He was unable, and unwilling to finish writing the page he had tried to start.

His pace was stagering, slow, his body seemed unwilling to leave this room, but as always, it could not stop him. He opened the door and stepped out. Nothing to be seen as far as he could stare. Cold and darkness surrounded him, layed a cloak of...satisfaction around him. Satisfaction? Weird.

The thing he hated most about this world was the absence of the sun, the absence of light to scare away the darkness. Darkness which took a stronger grip of Marten's heart and soul with every day passing. If you can still agree that there is time or a day passing. Its always the same. The same, deafening dark-grey light, purged from any life or existence of whatsoever. Bah.

Why did he always opened this door day, after day, after day, he wondered. There hasn't been a change since the crisis, so why would he bother? Well, in any way, it wasn't hope that brought him here. Hope had since long left his world. It was more like...a habit, a senseless automatic action he did every day after recovering from his nightmares, and after his tries to write something new. And as he stood there, in the endless void surrounding him, like always as another senseless habit, he couldn't help but ask himself:

'What happened?'



Sub-chapter 2: Crisis in the heart of a wayward man.
Timeschedule: Past, during the crisis. Diary date: 12 - 10 - '10 till 13 - 10 - '10


12 - 10 - '10​
Dear Diary,

It had been nearly two years since I first dreamed my dream of power, and I still cannot get enough of it. I just awoke from my sleep after another dream of happiness, and I cannot wait till the next night. And although I sometimes still wonder who the man is in the painting on the wall, I can't worry about it today.

Because you know, my dear friend...today is different. I can feel it stirring in my body. I can feel my power even more than usual. It's boiling my blood, enraging my mind, destroying my reason. I want to use it...abuse it, yes...this power, which I've always considered a blessing from God: a way to escape my life, myself, and become the hero that this world needed so hard.

But today, yes today...I don't know why, but...I feel different. This world has lost its meaning. For why should I care for these pitiful, weak humans, while I could rule the world. I do have all the power...
I want to crush these beings, see them suffer...see the fear on their faces when they stare into my eyes at their last moments...

...What is happening to me?

This feeling...I remember! It's the feeling of my first dream. I tried to get rid of it when it first invaded my mind because of the guilt I felt for having such impure thoughts. I tried to replace them with my sense of honour and respect. To help the people of this planet. But now I can't get rid of it anymore, not since this feeling of rejoice. As if I'm coming home after years of not knowing civilization. This feeling will help me conquer everything, I know it.

...

I must confess, my friend, I am scared. Scared of this almost inhuman feeling of bloodlust. Of pure desire to kill and destroy everything with this power of mine. I am afraid that I will lose my humanity through using it, afraid I will be losing everything I am through the act of destroying. But I must also say, my diary, that I cannot wait to test this out; this full extent of my absolute power.

Therefor I will now stop writing, because after my shower and my daily breakfast...the fun can begin!

Bye,

Marten




One day later.

13 - 10 - '10​

Diary,

Friday the 13th is truly the day of misfortune, for today...everything went wrong. God, what have I done...the world, this beautiful world...what have I done..-


Parts of the text are unreadable from there on due tears and strange drawings by pen. Those drawings were probably made because of the anger which ruled his heart at that moment. Uncontrolled spasms of an hand engulfed in hatred and disbelieve. The text is readable from a couple sentences later, although it has more breakings.

-..hink the man was out for this. Yes, the man from my dream, with that stupid smile he had on his face! He used me. He used me to destroy, to demoli..-

-..ill stop writing now. My hand, togheter with the rest of my body for that matter, is hardly able to move. I cannot continue. But I'll write to you a vow with my last force. A vow that I will never forget.

'I hereby swear that I will punish the man who destroyed half the world...even if it takes everything.'

So long,

Marten
 
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Darkness Princess

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<3333
I love you. =3
Awesome chapter... Even if I had to read it twice for it to fully sink in.
I love the way you write, even if all the hints at things drive me insane. >_>
<_<
 

Cicero

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Thnx, I'm trying. <33

And yeah, I used to hate it when a story was full of hints which couldn't be explained right away. I didn't do that before in my stories because of that, but I noticed that a story is ten times as dull without them. Nothing to guess or look out for in the next chapter or part, right? ;)

The next chapter will be up in a day or so, I think. Took a bit longer then I expected because my Microsoft Word suddenly stopped working... Can only look at my documents, not change or do anything. Can't even copy it! My laptop really hates me.
 

Darkness Princess

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Heh.
Sounds like my laptop, it does the same sometimes with my stuff although resetting normally seems to be enough to get everything working again.

About the hints, they do make the story more interesting. I have a love-hate relationship about it. =3

Take your time getting a chapter up, I'll be waiting for the update. ^_^
 

SoRaBhK_dUdE

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You have the powertokeep me captivated on a story. You have my thanks on such a great story =D
 

Cicero

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Thanks for the support. ^^

Sorry that I still haven't posted the second chapter. I was away for the weekend so I couldn't finish it. I'll probably post it later this afternoon when I come back from school, or this evening. =)
 

Cicero

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Thanks for the support. I really appreciate it. <3

Some comments before we begin:
The diary pages of this chapter may seem a bit more dragging, and...unorganized, so to say. I did this on purpose because Marten is only 14 years old here(He doesn't have his powers here yet either). Further the chapters will be a bit more regular, and a bit less mysterious form here on, so lighten up, Darkness Princess. =P

And a note about the diary dates; I'm using European schedule, not American, so it is D - M - Y. Just so no one would get confused. =)

-------------------------------------------------------------------------


Chapter 2: Knowing who you are.



'In search of happines'

'The journey of a boy who lost his identity in the world of today,
and tried to remember who he was..

The journey of an ordinary child.'



Sub-chapter 1: Writing history.
Timeschedule: Past, before the dream. Diary date: 04 - 06 - '07


04 - 06 - '07​
Dear Diary,

I can still very well remember it. The time that I still was whom I was. The time I couldn't be anyone else but me. I said what I said, and did what I did, without questions.

But how hard I try, what I can't seem to remember is whom that person was...whom I was. Why did I say the things I said? Why did I do the things I did? How come I became friends with one, but not with the other? Was I happy with whom was? Who ever that was.

You know, I think I really was happy then, without even knowing it. And I think that that is what I miss, for doing and saying things without questioning, just because it is me, is something I have not been able to do for a very long time. It vanished without me noticing it, just like the happiness it brought.

...I don't know who I am. I sometimes wonder how other people see me. Maybe I am who they see in me, but then again, maybe that is just an illusion of who I want to be. Who I show them.



Who I am is what you see now,
Do you want to dance with these illusions?​



I once wrote this down on a little piece of paper I had in my pocket without particular reason. The thoughts just floating into my mind, combined with a melody which I can't recall anymore. The words fascinated me so that I wrote them down on what I had within reach.

Why did it fascinate me so? I think because I recognized myself in it. I recognized how weird it feels to not really know who you are. Strange. For when I am able to recognize myself in something...doesn't that mean I know who I am?

It all came so suddenly too, the shock I mean. I can't remember when I lost myself, so I don't think it happened in one day. I happened bit by bit, step by step. The shock, however, came to me as if I was struck by lightening. All of a sudden I realized...that I couldn't remember a thing. My memories seemed lost. It didn't matter how much I pondered, my mind stayed clear of any thought. Everything I ever was, I ever believed in, vanished within that simple moment of understanding.

It really devastated me. For years, I realised, I had chased after my former self, never once doubting that this was still me. Everything I did for the last year and half or so was a lie. One big illusion of personality...

But I don't want to drag on much further. For I know that, deep down, and even though the end of this day seems further away then ever after keeping busy with these heavy thoughts...I know that one day, I will find myself. I know it.

Till next time, dear diary,

Marten


The young boy closed his diary. He stared at the cover for a moment, whereafter he put it between his other books. That was strange, because he would normally never take it with him. He always put it in the drawer of his desk. After that the boy put on a clean short, and walked out of his room with his bag over his shoulder.

Once downstairs, he placed his bag next to the door, and started preparing his breakfast. Now you have to understand, he did everything himself, alone. He never had any brothers nor sisters, so when his mother died half a year ago, he was left behind. The only thing he got left is the memories of a family. His mother had taught him to take care of himself as good as possible, so he didn't feel the need to search for family or a phoster home. He was fine by himself, with just his diary.

Or so he told himself.



Sub-chapter 2: Unwanted emotions.
Timeschedule: The same day. (Past, before the dream. Diary date: 04 - 06 - '07)



A young boy, seemingly 13 years of age, with brown hair and brown eyes of exactly the same color, walked through the halls of the school. He wore a simple, somewhat old shirt, and a torn pair of pants, kept togheter by the attempts of restoring it with needle and thread. His shoes were pretty new though, as were the socks he wore. His face was clean, but you could still see some filth on his arms and legs.

This boy clearly wasn't rich. And off course, the whole school knew that. And as it goes with those youngsters, the whole school made fun of it. Thus, he didn't really have friends, except maybe for the teachers who always kept an eye on him and gave him the most easy things to do. This was Marten, the boy who lived alone at the end of the street, in a good but filthy house, with not much more than a few dollars a day.

The boy walked up to his classroom and entered. 'This will be another long day...'
His books were just tight togheter with on old belt, because he couldn't afford a decent bag. He could feel the eyes of the other students in his back, and he could see the eyes of the students in front of him, when he walked to his desk. Even after almost a year he had been here, they still looked at him like that. He hated it.

The day seemed to last like ages, as Marten had already predicted. So he was relieved to finally be able to leave again after the clock ticked 3 and the schoolbell rang.

He ran with haste, to avoid being stopped by bullies or other people who wanted to do no good to him. He ran with haste, straight to his house, quickly closing the door behind him with the three locks.

The light inside the house gave him comfort. It was a dull light, like when the sun is going down, but still shines orange. It was always like this, because of the blankets the boy had put before the windows to keep out unwanted eyes. He walked straight to his room, far away from the street.

The rest of the day he spent in that room, like always, drawing and writing. It gave him comfort, and let his thoughts away from the other kids for a moment. He spent this day in that room, like always, fleeing from the feelings and thoughts he did not want. The feelings and thoughts he hated so much.

He fleed, for there was pain in his heart.
 
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SoRaBhK_dUdE

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This is the awesomeness, with so much details that a story like this needs. AWESOME I SAY!!
 

Cicero

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Thanks, you two. <33

But there weren't so many hints in this one...I really tried to clear things up instead of making them worse. xD
 

Ban Mido

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Beta Reader Feedback: For I have power.

Not much I can say. You're a very good writer. And you make good use of the html tags as well.

What I would like to see though, is to have your character start interacting with others, and start working with actual dialog. Character interaction is a key element of story progression, and you might have a difficult time moving the story along if you just keep using the one character.


And in the fourth paragraph from the bottom, you miss spelled 'bullies'
 

Cicero

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Thanks for pointing that out, All-Star. xD I'll write it correct next time. ;)

But yeah, the interaction is still on low, as I'm trying to scetch the feelings and emotions of this main character first. He is very lonely and doesn't really talk to anyone but his dairy.

This is also why I haven't posted the 3th chapter yet, I'm trying to find a nice way to switch from the style I've been writing up till now to a more normal fanfic with multiple characters and more dialoges.
 

Lectori Salutem

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This will be one of my favourites!

But it's not nice to use a songtext without saying you don't own it. Even if you translate it (you can't fool me^^)... It's a nice song, the part you used fits the story very well.
 

Cicero

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Haha, you got my there, Lectori, never expected other Dutch people to read this actually, so thought no one would mind. =P
 
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