“Why don’t you just make a recording? Much easier than writing.”
“Thats...thats genius!”
“Yes yes, praise me.”
“Not you. I just had the best idea to make a recording instead of writing this!”
“Hey!!! THAT was my id--”
“Gosh you're so noisy. Let me make this recording!”
“Guuuuh!! God, I hate you!!”
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Here’s a riddle for you. What happen when you take a fictional monster, transport it to a crowded city in the middle of the day and let it kill people?
Welp, panic. Lots and lots of panic.
Wait wait, let me rewind. I shall do a beautiful backstory about how awesome I am first before I start this story.
My name is God Yara.. No joke. Don’t leave, I’m serious. My parents were extremely high at the time I was born. My mom claimed it was to help ease the pain, but they are still major druggies. Something that I (Un)fortunately inherited. Not as bad as them, though I still dabble.
Sorry, went off topic.
Anyways, as I said, My name is God Yara. I was born June fifth, 2020. It’s 2037 right now, in case you have forgotten. I have always lived a high key life. Although my parents were poor I never let that hold me back. I was considered the class clown in school, though I would have occasional introvert tendencies.
One day when I was seven years old I was walking home from the store when I happened to notice an old man getting dragged into an alleyway by some high schoolers. Thinking that the old man was getting picked on I rushed towards the alleyway intending to help. I wasn’t really sure how I would help, I just knew I was going to help him one way or another. Imagine my shock when I ran around the corner to find all the teens painfully lying on the ground with broken bones visible. The old man had specks of blood on his white t-shirt and jeans. He was holding one of the thugs in one hand by his throat. The thug had two hands around the old man's arm yet it wasn’t budging. I stared at him in awe. It was not everyday you could see a man, especially an old one, lifting someone up with one hand.
Though, I suppose that isn’t too true.
After humanity FINALLY realized that if they continued to eat junk food and drink XXL soda’s all day that they would all become obese, a massive worldwide health craze began. But since humanity was still lazy they wanted to become strong fast and loose weight quicker. At that time, Hundreds upon hundreds of new “Muscle medicines” and “Fat Killers”came out. They increased your testosterone while at the same time making sure nothing “Harmful” happened to your body after they wore out, or the chemicals in the “Fat Killers” would dissolve fat in your body then make you shit it out.
“Something wrong kid?” The old man asked, looking at me slightly. I realized my mouth was still hanging wide open.
“N-n-no! That was awesome! How did you do that? Can you teach me?” By now the thug had been dropped to the ground. The old man calmly wiped the blood off his clothes as best as he could and walked out of the alleyway, ignoring me. Not to be deterred I followed him, bombarding him with questions.
“You didn’t answer me!! How did you do that? Was it staged? It had to be staged! You're old, you can’t be that strong!! How did you do that? Can you teach me? Hey old man are you listening!” Even to this day I was surprised how far I followed the man. I ended up walking with until he got home, which was three miles past my own home.
Of course, I was asking him questions the whole time.
“Kid” He finally said, startling me out of my question revere.
“You finally gonna answer? Awesome!” I was hoping he would answer all my questions when he said something that shocked me.
“Go home. Quit bothering me. You are too talkative.” When he said the words “Go home” I realized the stupidity of what I had just done. I followed a man I didn't even know all the way to his house. And it was starting to get dark out.
“Um… well you see…” I twiddled my fingers, not knowing how to say this.
“Don’t tell me…” I nodded my head, somehow knowing that we were thinking the same thing. He simply stared at me, a look of slight anger on his face.
“You...you...you HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!!”
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In the past eight years my power had grown immensely...not. Actually, that’s a lie. But since I am lazy and don’t want to drab on and on about my boring backstory, let me sum it up for you.
After my mast-- the old man had walked me back home (He was extremely happy about that, lemme tell ya) I had managed to talk his name(Which isn’t important) his number (So I could contact him(I’ll tell you why later)) and his martial arts style, which he didn’t have a name for.
(Ow.Ok, “She” just hit me. Who “She” is you will find out later. My masters name was Akai Yamsteso. Yeah, I too made fun of his last name. Go head, take a moment and laugh.)
Anyways, after I had received(Forced) his number from him after one gruelingly long year I managed to get(Forced) him to make me his disciple. His martial arts style had no name, only that he created it himself. It was a style that focused more on using your legs and the strength in them. When you were forced into close combat, it was more like Judo and Aikido, which used your opponents power against them. Although this is slightly off topic, I was thoroughly surprised when the first day I trained he had me take a muscle booster. When I asked why he responded
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
“This is not some fourth rate half assed martial arts fantasy novel(Though it is). If one were to train himself properly using steroids, no doubt he would be stronger than someone who trained the same way without using steroids. It is simple fact.”
From that day on I was forced(Karma) to take muscle boosters which worked a little too well on me, though I still look sexy as ever. Muscle boosters, by the way, are illegal for people under 26 to take.
It was when I turned fourteen that my master finally died. He had a heart attack in the middle of the night. When I came over to his dojo there was no answer so I let myself in. I was shocked to find him dead, though surprisingly no tears came out. Personally I think it was because although we were master and student, we were never that close. I will admit that the best times of my life were with him(Discounting from when I met “Her”) but truthfully we never really bonded. Master was always secluded and quiet, never speaking more than he had to. Although I would trust him with my life, I wouldn’t trust him with my phone(If that makes sense).
It was also when I turned 14 that I met the best love of my life.
Ow. I was hit again. Let me rephrase that. I was 15 when I met the second best love of life.
I was in desperate need of cash( As a handsome green eyed red haired 6ft tall teen with white skin and sharp and beautiful features I needed to impress the ladies) when I happened to find a job at the pound. Since I loved pets and they tended to love me, it was the perfect job.
After a long and tedious sign up, it was four months after I started working when I first met Bojo.It was an average day at the pound, nothing new or special. I had heard we had gotten a particularly mean dog recently, but hadn’t checked it out.
“What’s up Leon?” I asked. Leon was one of the more laid back animal rescuers, though still avid about animals all the same.
“This dobermann man. Things vicious. Very, very vicious. Nearly bit Suzies neck off. Don’t blame it though. It was used in dogfights for over three years.From what I heard the things been in over 27 fights!! We ourselves got into a massive fight with the owners. Cops even shot someone. I don’t know what we are going to do with it man. It scares all the other dogs so much that they won’t stop whimpering. I think… I think we’re gonna have to put it down.” I was shocked. This was Leon, the man who punched a cop because the cop kicked an abused dog. The very same Leon is saying we have to put an animal down?
“Take me to this animal” I demanded. I wanted to see this thing.
After all, how bad could it be?
“Alright… it’s in the backyard…” Leon led me to the back of the building, into the garage. He opened the door to the backyard and led me out. At the corner of the fence was the biggest, meanest looking dog I had ever seen. It’s expression screamed fury. It was inside TWO cages. One cage was around the other cage, making the dog seem bigger than it was. We were still standing by the door when the beast began to bark savagely at us. Leon nearly pissed his pants and put his back up towards the door, his hand on the knob. I however began to walk closer to the cage.
“Are you stupid Yara? That thing will kill you!!” I ignored him however and walked closer. The dogs barking got much fiercer and I could feel it’s intent to kill from here.
“It’s okay. I won’t hurt you” When I reached the cage I slowly put my hand up towards it. With speed befitting its size it tried to snap at me, sharp fangs actually denting the metal on the cages. Try as it may it wasn’t able to break the reinforced cages, though it really tried.
“Give me the key” I shouted to Leon.I walked towards him calmly, formulating a plan in my head.
“Are you crazy man?? That thing will tear you apart!! No way no way!” He shook his head frantically to prove his point.
“Leon. I am awesome. Therefore, I will not get hurt.” Before waiting for an answer I snatched the kennel key off of his belt. He tried to make a grab at me to get the key back but I cooly sidestepped him, grabbing his collar before he could fall.
“Leo, I’m telling you I’ll be fine! You however should go back inside. Also, don’t tell anyone about this. Also also, cover my shift for a little bit.”
“You're crazy man. It was nice knowing you. If you get hurt, this isn’t my fault. You stole that key yourself.” Leon waved goodbye as he walked inside, being overly dramatic.
“Alright doggie. Time to play”. I unlocked the outer door of the dog’s cage, smiling as it stopped yapping at me. When I put my hand on the lock for the second one I could see the muscles in its legs bunch together, stored energy waiting to be released.
I slowly put the key into the lock, my own muscles tensed.
*Click*
“Woof!*