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Message-ID: <36223asstr$1019463002@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Gambit367@aol.com
Subject: {ASSM} RP: Shadow Knight Chronicles Ch.1 (slow mc violence)
Date: Mon, 22 Apr 2002 04:10:02 -0400
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Author's Note: I started this story when I was writing under the pen name 
Matrix Legion. I never got around to finishing it, and when I finally did 
reread what I had wrote, I came to the conclusion that it was complete and 
utter cardboard. The characters were too stiff and the story lagged. So, here 
I am, back at the drawing bored. 

As you will soon notice, I've changed the names of the characters, not to 
mention the story. It used to read "Marcus' Power", now it reads what you see 
below. I really hope you like this version better. I know I enjoyed writing 
it much more than the first.

For those of you who followed Marcus' Power, the plot has changed a little 
but not a lot. 

And PLEASE, PLEASE send feedback. That is the main reason I rewrote this.  :

Send all comments or suggestions to Gambit367@aol.com

The Shadow Knight Chronicles  
  By Gambit


"And I can't see, but I hear them calling . . ."
"Black Jesus" by Everlast

Chapter One


Ethan Remfield stood beside the picnic bench that had been the meeting place 
for him and his stepsister for the past two years. Ever since they had moved 
to this school. He would sit and he would wait. 

The place he was waiting at wasn't that bad. There wasn't too many kids 
milling about and he was virtually by himself-- the way he preferred to be. 
The grass was green and it seemed like a fair day. Something was just nagging 
on his mind though. The day had gone to good so far, he knew that something 
had to go wrong sooner or later.

His light, light blond hair was in dire need of a haircut, and he knew this, 
as he wiped the bangs away from his mirror plated shades. The shades were 
very small and round, just big enough to cover the boy's eyes. He was dressed 
in all black. One would think that he hung out with the gothics of the 
school, but he didn't. The black button up shirt and jeans were just his 
style. He really had no good reason to dress that way.

They were much unlike the shades, which he wore because his eyes were 
extremely sensitive to light.

No, Ethan didn't hang out with the gothics, preps, nerds, or even the jocks. 
The truth was that the seventeen-year-old boy was a loner through and 
through. Some would call him a snob, or even, maybe, stuck up. But that 
wasn't the case at all. The fact was that Ethan just liked to blend in. 

Some would call Ethan eccentric and maybe even odd over some of the things he 
did. Like wearing his shades, even at night when he didn't need them. In 
truth, the boy did that for two reasons. The first being that when people saw 
his eyes they always either gaped or accused him of wearing contacts, which 
he didn't. The second was a small part of why people thought him odd. 

A person could tell many things by looking a person in the eyes. And the boy 
just had emotions he didn't want people to see. Ethan always guarded his 
privacy with a fierce determination that would sometimes even surprise his 
family. He didn't like it when people looked in his eyes; it was as simple as 
that. 

She's late again. He thought, sitting down on the cement picnic table. But 
that's nothing new. His thoughts added. Then he pulled out a pack of Camels 
and a Zippo that his lovely sister had got him for his birthday last year. 
There was an inscription on it that said, "To my big Brother, with love". 

The seventeen year old blew out a jet of smoke and thought of the past. Some 
of it had its moments of joy. Others . . . Well, there was torment beyond 
most people's understanding. That's why he didn't talk to that many people 
about it, not even to Joanna or Tosh.

Joanna Remfield. That woman was possibly the savior of his soul. Lord knows 
she was definitely the savior of his life. He knew for a fact that he would 
have ended it all with a few quick cuts of a knife by now if it weren't for 
this woman, this woman that took him in and claimed him as her own.

To put it nicely, before Ethan was eleven, he was a child of the system, a 
system that didn't really suit him well. Most called it foster care, but not 
Ethan. He called it "Hell's Outhouse". And that was basically what it was for 
the boy. He understood that the system worked for many kids . . . But he also 
understood that he had to have had the worst run of luck in the history of 
foster care, or so he thought.

By the time the boy was eleven years old, he had visited the emergency room 
nine times, twice for gunshot wounds, the rest for various broken bones. 
There were times where he should have went to the emergency room but didn't 
because his "Foster Parents" thought that he should stay in his room and 
think about what he did, while he bled, and when it was bad, prayed for 
death.

A miracle happened on his eleventh birthday, though. Shawn and Joanna 
Remfield adopted the boy as their own. This confused Ethan somewhat; since he 
had stopped speaking all together by the time he was ten. They would talk; he 
would nod yes or no, nothing else. There was not a peep that came from Ethan.

Ethan did not do this to be unruly. In all truth, the boy really didn't know 
why he stopped speaking. All he knew was that sometimes things started out 
good, but then the other shoe would drop and he would be straight back in 
hell again. He just didn't want to chance giving his feelings to someone that 
might throw them back in his face.

He was thirteen years old when it happened. A beating didn't break his 
silence and it wasn't broken by a bribe. His stepsister who was a year 
younger than him broke it. She had always looked out for him after that day.

He was playing with a pocketknife that his stepfather, Shawn, had bought him 
for his birthday and sliced his finger open. Natasha, Tosh to her friends, 
had immediately went and got a band-aid and fixed him right up. "There ya go, 
sport." That was all she said.

It wasn't the hurt of the cut. And it wasn't the sight of the blood . . . But 
it was the sheer warmth in the younger girl's eyes that made Ethan brake 
down. He cried like he had never cried before- even when he got the beatings 
from the other families. No, these were tears of joy. And this girl, no more 
than a slip really, had brought them crashing down.

After that, Tosh had become his best and only friend. When he finally spoke 
to Joanna, it was her turn to cry. And Ethan was pretty sure that Shawn even 
got a little misty for a second or two. From that day forth, Ethan had strove 
to make them as happy as they had made him. If a person was good to the 
Remfield's, they were good to you.

Ethan had learned that very early on. 

Ethan knew a lot about his family that he didn't let on. He was always good 
with details. He also knew a lot about himself that he didn't think important 
enough to go into with his family, especially his stepsister. She would 
probably hover over him until he went to the doctor's office. But the changes 
to his body . . . He pushed the thought out of his head. He really didn't 
want to go into it.

Just then Ethan looked across the schoolyard and saw a short (probably about 
5'1") girl standing in front of three jocks, football players to be exact.  
He watched her closely, seeing her wipe the black died hair (she was blonde 
originally) from her eyes impatiently, yelling at the three jocks with 
ferocious intent. 

She is kinda cute when she's mad. He thought with humor. She was pointing her 
finger at the one in the middle and verbally assaulting the boy as best she 
could. But knowing Tosh, there was a good reason.

Ethan saw that the middle jock's face was turning more than a little red. 
Ethan's feet started him in Tosh's direction before he even thought twice 
about it. He didn't know if the jock was the type to hit girls or not, but he 
wasn't going to stand around and find out.

                                                           ******************


"You listen to me you dumb fuckin' jock. I'll try to use words that you'll 
understand," Tosh started off, her deep blue eyes starting to flash. "If I 
want to "Dress like a boy" that does not make me a damn "dyke", as you say. 
Of course your small mind probably doesn't know that there is nothing wrong 
with that to begin with."

Tosh kept going, loudly, and wouldn't even give them a chance to speak. "Once 
you get an I.Q. that don't involve football stats or a number of shoe sizes, 
why don't you take a look around. You might finally figure out that you are a 
complete and total ASSHOLE!"

I might have just screwed up. The small thought came to Tosh as she watched 
the middle jock's face turn bright red from anger. The boy, who was about two 
in a half times the size of her, looked like he was going to pop. And his 
friends didn't look any better. Yep, definitely messed up. Open mouth and 
insert foot, Tosh. She thought, a little worriedly. She knew she could fight, 
but not at these odds. One of these days I'll learn.

The middle one, who had the bad haircut, and had started this whole mess to 
begin with, apparently decided that he was not above hitting a girl. His arm 
reared back to slap the loud mouth girl into next week. Then-- nothing. 
Someone caught his wrist.

The jock, Daniel was his name, turned to see his reflection in a pair of 
mirror-plated shades. The blonde boy that owned them had a look of complete 
calmness. That calm look should have allied his fears some. But for some 
reason, it only worsened them, and with very good cause.

By simply twisting Daniel's arm in the wrong direction, Ethan sent the boy, 
almost, into a flip. Daniel landed on his upper back and almost his neck. 
That was when Daniel's friends thought they would get in on the action. Ethan 
just smiled in a maniacal way that even made Tosh a little nervous.

The first one just came barreling in with haymakers that Ethan almost laughed 
at. By the time the boy actually made it to Ethan, Ethan did a spinning round 
house that impacted squarely on the boy's jaw. Ethan could have sworn that he 
felt a few of the boy's jaw teeth come loose from that, but it might have 
been his imagination.

Ethan felt something that he rarely felt-- elation. And this feeling came 
from battle. He was pretty sure that this was the first time he felt it. It 
almost felt as if he was unstoppable. All of his movements felt completely 
natural. And this was strange, yet elated experience. He was in, what he 
called; "The Zone" and he loved it.


All the sudden, Ethan heard a scream ring out. "Look out!"

By sheer instinct, he dropped to one knee and turned at the same time. He 
turned just in time to see the third jock right in front of him. Without 
thinking, Ethan delivered two quick rabbit punches to each of the boy's legs. 
Each of them was just above the knee, and slightly on the inside of the 
thigh. The result was the boy falling to his knees right in front of Ethan. 

Then, with lightening quickness, Ethan grabbed two handfuls of jersey and 
jerked the boy forward with vicious intent. The head-butt that was delivered 
made those watching wince in sympathy, even Tosh. She knew the boy had a 
broken nose. She also knew that all three were unconscious.

What amazed some of the people that were watching was that during the entire 
fight, Ethan's shades never slipped once. That and Ethan never got hit once, 
and that was at three to one odds. 

Ethan stood up with one fluid motion, without using his hands. If Tosh didn't 
know it, she couldn't have known that he was just in a fight. The only 
indicator was the grass stains on the knees of his jeans. "We better jet, 
before a teacher comes out." Tosh stated, grabbing him by the arm and pulling 
him off the schoolyard. 

But he would have certainly left on his on accord. He was in no mood to hang 
around. "Whatever you say, half-pint."

"Don't call me that." She stated, slapping him in the chest playfully. She 
let out a nervous giggle as she tried to get him off school grounds. She was 
not quite quick enough to do so though.

"Mr. Remfield, hold it right there. I'd like to have a word with you. It was 
a voice that Ethan was really hoping he wasn't going to hear after that 
fight. It was that of Principal Wayne. 

"And what word would that be?" Ethan asked with a mask of stoic calmness. It 
was all an act though; he was a nervous wreck on the inside.

If a glare could have killed someone, Ethan would have been dead right on the 
spot. "Go to my office and wait, Mr. Remfield," Then the chubby little bald 
man turned his attention on Tosh. "You wait for me as well, while I get this 
lot picked up and sorted." He added gesturing towards the downed jocks.

Ethan could tell Tosh was about to say something and grabbed her by the arm 
gently, erasing any protests she had on her lips. She just gave out a 
defeated sigh and followed Ethan into the school. Behind them, the principal 
was helping up the football players and making sure that there were no 
serious injuries.


                                               ************************


Even though they town the lived in was only moderate size, the high school 
there was top notch. It was a three-story building that was still moderately 
new. The town had just finished construction on it two years before. Yes, the 
town of Kaymon, New Mexico had a great deal of respect for the educational 
system. It's just too bad the students don't have that same respect for one 
another. Ethan thought with a wry shake of the head.

"Jeez, Bro, you had me worried for a second when those other two jumped in. I 
thought you were gonna get the shit knocked out of you," Tosh said, only 
receiving a slight twitch of a smile from Ethan. Her face became sober all at 
once, she wanted some answers and she wanted them now. "I never seen anyone 
in real life fight like that, Ethan . . . And move that fast. Where did you 
learn to do it?"

They were on the second floor by now.  Ethan just kept walking with his head 
bowed, looking at his feet. After all, what she had just asked was part of 
the changes he had not wanted to talk about. "From around the way." He 
murmured softly, knowing that she would drop the line of questioning.

That was his code phrase to Tosh that her line of questioning was getting a 
little too personal. She gave a frown but dropped the line of questioning. In 
all truth, she was a little irritated that he would only open up to her a 
little at a time. He never shared his past experiences in foster care with 
her at all. Whenever she would ask about them, she would get one of two 
responses. He would tell her that she didn't want to know, or she would get 
the other response. He would sink into a depression that would last for days 
and not speak a word to anyone. It was the last response that made her quit 
grilling him about the past.

They both walked into the waiting room of the principal's where a 
receptionist was typing on a computer. The office was very nice and the seats 
were comfortable, even if they were plastic. The woman that was on the 
computer looked to be in her mid thirties and *looked* to be so wrapped up 
that she didn't know they had entered. That all changed though, as soon as 
she spoke up.

She and Tosh were on an almost friendly basis since Tosh was in there so 
much.

"Ah, Ms. Remfield, so glad to see you again. What did you do this time? Put a 
green snake in your teacher's desk?" She asked teasingly, her Spanish brown 
eyes were twinkling.

"Nope, did that last week. This time I'm here for starting a fight I didn't 
participate in. My Knight in shining armor here," She waved an arm Ethan and 
continued. "Was the one to doing all the fighting." She gave Ethan an impish 
grin and got a scowl in return.

"You don't look like you have been in a fight, young man." The receptionist 
replied, appraising the boy.

Ethan gave the woman a self-depreciating shrug before sitting down.

"He don't talk much, but he grows on ya after a while." Tosh told the woman 
in an almost mock conspiratorial tone.

Ethan drowned out the rest of what the girls were talking about; he had no 
wish to hear about himself. Every time he heard his name he would just give 
an absent-minded nod. Yes, Ethan definitely had something bigger on his mind. 
And it worried him that Tosh had noticed that today. Noticed his quickness, 
and the ability to fight. He was also fairly certain that the black haired 
girl also noticed the sheer brute force he used behind the blows.

The boy had no clue as to where he had learned those skills. In all truth, 
that was his very first spinning roundhouse kick . . . And he had executed it 
perfectly and with great efficiency. It was beginning to worry him. What 
worried him most were the changes to his body . . . But, no, he didn't want 
to think about that right now. 

Best keep my mind on the matters at hand. He thought.

Just then, the short, bald, little man that called himself a principal walked 
in. He was wearing a cheap gray suit with a clip on tie, and he smelled of 
Old Spice. That was another changing Ethan was worrying over a lot. His 
senses seemed to be heightening gradually. But not at a super fast rate, 
thank God. He didn't know if he could handle that. 

But first he was going to have to think of the trouble that he was in now. 
Great, he's looking right at me. Why does he remind me of an oversized 
muskrat? He thought humorously.

"Right this way, Mr. Remfield," The man spoke with an authority his small 
little body shouldn't be able to hold, but Ethan stood up none the less. 
"I'll speak with you afterwards, Natasha." He added, as he walked into his 
office with Ethan in tow.

"Please shut the door, Mr. Remfield." Mr. Wayne told him as he took a seat 
behind the desk.  Then the man started to clean up the papers on his desk 
with a professional air. Ethan had a feeling that he was doing it so that he 
could flaunt the fact he was the one in control.

"Let me get to the point, Mr. Remfield. I think that you are a troublemaker 
and a bad element in this school. Did you know the boy's nose you broke our 
star quarterback's? No, I suppose you wouldn't, Mr. Remfield. You're the one 
that is always lurking behind the crowd, waiting to cause trouble. Well, Mr. 
Remfield . . ." 

Ethan really couldn't hear the rest of what the man was saying. Oh, he heard 
bits and pieces, but basically, he didn't hear everything. Which really 
didn't matter, because what he did hear was starting to make him mad, and 
that was always a bad sign.

Before the principal got another word in edge wise, Ethan broke in. This was 
when something really strange started to happen. It was a tingling sensation 
that went all the way from the back of his neck and all the way up to his 
skull. It sort of made his scalp tingle. It wasn't a pleasant feeling, but it 
sure as hell wasn't unpleasant either.

"Shut up, you poor excuse of a little man. I have a first name. Ethan. Use 
it. Learn it. Burn it into you're fuckin' brain, because if you call me 'Mr. 
Remfield' one more time, I will skull fuck you. Got me?" The strange part of 
this dangerous lecture was that his voice never rose above normal level.

The principal had a mute look on his facial features, but he nodded 
nonetheless.

Ethan went on. "Now, what happened out there was not my fault. Those three 
jocks started messin' with Tosh, and NOBODY messes with Tosh while I'm 
around. So, what I think is you should let us both go home and forget about 
the whole thing." The tingling intensified. What the hell is that blank look 
on his face all about? He thought, as he looked the principal over. His eyes 
were also glazed.

Ethan was expecting to get expelled, not what happened next.

Finally, Mr. Wayne shook his head a little, as if clearing cobwebs, and gave 
Ethan a genuine smile. "I think you're right Ethan. Family is very important 
. . . And I think we should just forget this whole thing ever happened."

"Thank you." Ethan replied, a little uncertainly, as he stood up.

"You may tell your sister on the way out that she is free to go as well." The 
usually dour man added with a smile. 

Usually people irritated Ethan that smiled like that nonstop. But hey, if it 
kept Tosh out of trouble he was all for it. "Thanks, I'll see you on Monday 
Mr. Wayne."

But Mr. Wayne's smile wasn't the only thing that was on Ethan's mind. It was 
how things went in that office. He knew for a fact that Mr. Wayne's could 
have chucked his ass out of the school for the rest of the year for the way 
he talked to him. Something wasn't right, but the guess he had was positively 
ludicrous, at least to him it was.

Mind Control, the changes in his body, there were to many things that were 
happening at once for him to think of. I can't even believe I'm even 
entertaining the idea of Mind Control. He thought as he walked back out into 
the receptionist's office.

He saw Tosh sitting in the blue plastic chair trotting one of her legs and 
waiting impatiently. "You ready to get out of here, half-pint?"

"Don't be toying with my emotions, Little Man. I'll kick your ass to the 
moon." She added jokingly.

"Nah, seriously, he let us off. Let's get the hell out of here."

Tosh didn't have to be told twice, she was on her feet and just before she 
went out the door she turned and told the receptionist. "See ya Monday, 
Connie." The fact was she was in the office so much that she was on a first 
name basis with the woman.

"Probably so, probably so." The woman murmured as she kept typing on her 
computer.


                             ************************************************


When they finally made it out on the school grounds, there was someone there 
that was waiting patiently for them. It was one of Tosh's friends. Her name 
was Heather. And Heather, in Ethan's book, was a complete knock out.

She was leaning against a Dodge Ram pickup truck and was wearing a pair of 
white shorts that were a tad too short by societies standards, but certainly 
not by Ethan's. Heather was also wearing a light blue blouse that was just a 
little short at the bottom. Just short enough to give a peak of her belly 
button every now and then.

She was also a year older than Ethan, which made her two years older than 
Tosh. But neither of the girls seemed to mind. "So, what didja get in trouble 
for this time, Tosh? You were in there for a while." She stated as she 
flipped a red ponytail over her shoulder.

"Why does everyone think its me that always gets in trouble?"

"Because you usually are." Ethan and Heather replied in unison. He even had 
to chuckle at that and that was a rarity, because he usually kept a tight lid 
on his emotions. That was, unless he was just with his family.

Tosh just gave them both a glare. But she knew that they were mostly right. 
"Well, this time it was Ethan here who got in trouble. Wiped the floor with 
three football players. Probably broke our quarterback's nose." She said 
proudly. And she looked proud. It was a good act. But she knew that he 
shouldn't have been able to do what he did. And it was making her even more 
worried that he was hiding something from her. She hated when he did that. 
They were best friends, they told each other everything. And she could tell 
by his facial expressions that something was bothering him.

"Hey, Tosh. I'm still crashing at your place tonight, right? 'Cause my 
parents are going at each others throats like you wouldn't believe." Heather 
asked with a frown.

"Yeah, I cleared it with Mom and Dad last night." Tosh replied, opening the 
door of the truck. Heather's parents were notorious for fighting days on end, 
but they always seemed to work it out, somehow.

"Hey, wait. Before you guys get in, I want to show ya something." Her smile 
was almost diabolical as she led them to the back of the truck. She then 
unzipped her duffle bag and moved aside the clothes she brought with her. 

Ethan and Tosh looked down into the bag, right at a liter of 100 proof Vodka. 
Tosh even let out a very uncharacteristic girlish squeal. She always loved 
trying to get away with things that she wasn't supposed to be doing. Ethan 
just usually marked it down to teenage rebellion and left it at that. She 
swung an arm around Ethan's shoulders and with mischievous eyes said, "We're 
gonna get drunk tonight, Bro."

Ethan just shook his head and let out an amused sigh. "You do whatever gets 
your kicks, Tosh. But if we get busted, it's your ass."

She just stuck her tongue out at him in response.

With that, the three of them got in the truck and headed for the Remfield 
Household.


                                ****************************************

TBC





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