{"sf1_id":101430,"sf2_id":"keNAZ991","title":"Chapter 1 - Beginnings","author":"ChloeTheFirefox","words":1846,"posted_at":"2009-09-10T11:08:00.000Z","tags":["Character Development","Death","Depression","Fighting","Human","No-Yiff","Violence (Not In Yiff)","Vixen"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/101430-chapter-1-beginnings","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/s/keNAZ991","image_url":"https://cdn.sofurryfiles.com/submissions/thumbnails/c3/a4/c3a4cbca-b609-4553-932c-e864bfe47ae0","description":"#1 of Nova School","content":"  \n\n\"Let's begin. Can you tell me your name?\"\n  \n\nThe boy, barely sixteen, looked at the man across the table, across the polygraph attached to him.\n  \n\n\"John Sarlos,\" he replied, his voice cold and devoid of emotion of any kind.\n  \n\nThe man glanced at the polygraph's readout, before jotting down a few quick notes and continuing the test.\n  \n\n\"Good,\" he said, \"Now, do you know why you're here?\"\n  \n\nJohn leaned back on his chair and closed his eyes, before nodding.\n  \n\n\"Yes,\" he answered as he relived the events of that fateful day.\n  \n\nÂ\u0026nbsp;\n  \n\nJohn was both like and unlike every other kid his age: he was moody and grumpy most of the time, as most teenagers were, but he didn't socialise much and was exceptionally shy. The thing was, he had a short leash on his temper and didn't take well to bullying; it was after the third time that he was involved in a fight that his true colours began to shine through...\n  \n\nStanding at about 175cm, he was pretty tall for his age, and despite the fact that the only form of exercise he ever did was the odd martial arts routine, he was powerfully built. His brown hair fell halfway down to his shoulders and his piercing blue eyes were frequently hidden either behind a book or a pair of sunnies.\n  \n\nDespite the fact that he only really befriended those he respected (which was an exceptionally few group), he had one friend that was almost always with him, and had been with him for as long as he could remember.\n  \n\nThe main reason that he was different from every teen he knew, was that he still had an imaginary friend. She was the only one he could always count on, the one who comforted him in the dead of the night, the one who helped keep his temper in check, and the one in whom he could confide his deepest and darkest of secrets to.\n  \n\nIt all started when he was walking to one his classes at school.\n  \n\nHe was doing nothing wrong; his head bowed as he moved across the school oval.\n  \n\nAs such, he didn't pay any mind when a football hit his back. He just ignored it and kept walking, when a second one hit him.\n  \n\nGritting his teeth, he continued on his way, while the sounds of rambunctious laughter could be heard in the distance.\n  \n\nThis event left his simmering for the rest of the day, so that when he was walking home, he was in a particularly dark mood.\n  \n\n_\"John, take it easy!\"_ his imaginary friend said to him as they walked side-by-side across a bridge.\n  \n\n_\"Easy for you to say, Sam,\"_ he replied, while the ghost of a smile flickered across his face.\n  \n\nHe looked at her with a fondness he didn't even show his parents; she was about half a head shorter than him, and had deep, emerald green eyes. She was also, strangely enough, a brown-furred vixen.\n  \n\nWhen he was just a toddler, she was just a normal fox, and all she was to him was another one of his many made up friends, but she (or it) was his favourite.\n  \n\nWhen he first started school, it helped keep him focussed and on track. It was the only one left by then.\n  \n\nAnd as he entered into his seventh year of schooling, it had changed. It was no longer an ‘it', but a fully-fledged vixen, and now his closest of friends.\n  \n\nThen everything started to go downhill...\n  \n\nHe was involved in a big fight at the end of year eight; so big in fact, the police were called in to help stop it. An investigation into the instigators of the brawl incorrectly labelled him as the one who threw the first punch, and he was forever branded as a fighter and an outcast.\n  \n\nÂ\u0026nbsp;\n  \n\nHe looked up and saw someone step onto the bridge in front of him, while another two trapped him from behind.\n  \n\nBoth John and Sam stopped dead in their tracks; John recognised the one in front of him as the leader of the group that was most likely responsible for the football incident earlier that day.\n  \n\n_\"John,\"_ Sam said cautiously, _\"Just keep walking,\"_\n  \n\nHe sighed.\n  \n\n_\"I know, I know,\"_ he replied, before continuing on his way again.\n  \n\n\"Well, well, well,\" the guy said, \"Look what the cat dragged in,\"\n  \n\nJohn just ignored him and attempted to step around him, but he was stopped.\n  \n\n\"Where do you think you're going?\" the guy asked, while his friends sniggered behind him.\n  \n\n\"As far as I can get from you,\" John replied, before again trying to move around him, but to no avail.\n  \n\n\"We're not done with you yet,\" someone behind said, before something grabbed his arms and held them back.\n  \n\nThe other one behind him held something cold and sharp up to John's neck, something that instantly chilled his blood.\n  \n\n_\"John,\"_ Sam said softly, _\"Whatever happens, remember this: you're not a monster,\"_\n  \n\nBefore he could question her, he felt a strange pain lance through his arm to his head, and everything instantly crashed to black.\n  \n\nÂ\u0026nbsp;\n  \n\nWhen he finally came to, he wasn't overly surprised to find himself lying in the middle of the bridge. He slowly got to his feet, and beheld the horror around him.\n  \n\nAll three of the teens who had been on the bridge with him just moments earlier were now lying on the ground, blood pouring from massive gashes all over their bodies and draining into the flowing river beneath them.\n  \n\nHe glanced down at his hands, and was horrified to see blood coating them.\n  \n\n_\"Sam! What the hell happened?\"_ he frantically asked her, now trying to see if any of them were still alive.\n  \n\n_\"I- I don't think I can explain it right now,\"_ she stammered, and John glanced at her in surprise; she was never this flustered.\n  \n\nShe was as covered in blood as he was, and she was sitting next to one of the bodies, while crystalline tears shone in her eyes.\n  \n\nHer hands were shaking violently as she slowly lifted her gaze up to meet his.\n  \n\nSuddenly, a cacophony of images assaulted his mind, and he was watching them as if from outside his own body; of him throwing off the two guys behind him, before grabbing their knife and thrusting it deep into the lead guy's thigh. He then saw himself yank the knife back out, spin, and then raise his arm to block a punch. He watched as he twisted the arm behind its owner's back, before bringing the knife up to their throat.\n  \n\nJohn didn't actually see the gash in their neck, but he heard their gurgling cry of pain, before the sickening crunch of his face hitting the ground. He watched in horror as he approached his final assailant, who was now cowering in fear against the railings of the bridge.\n  \n\n\"Please,\" he croaked, \"Don't,\"\n  \n\nJohn then saw himself do something that would haunt him for the rest of his days: he saw himself give a low, _evil_ chuckle at the terrified figure before him.\n  \n\n\"Why?\" he asked softly, \"Why shouldn't I? You've done nothing but torture me for the last three years, made my life hell for the past three years! Now, when you have a chance to atone for your actions, you beg me to stop?\"\n  \n\nHe chuckled again, before lunging at him.\n  \n\nThe knife slipped through his ribs and plunged deep into his heart, and John felt as if he had been stabbed as well.\n  \n\n_\"Sam,\"_ he whispered, his heart pounding against his rib cage, _\"Please tell me I didn't just-\"_\n  \n\n_\"It wasn't your fault,\"_ she assured him, her voice laced with worry and concern.\n  \n\n_\"Th-then what happened?\"_\n  \n\n_\"You were attacked and under a lot of stress, and you reacted instinctively,\"_\n  \n\nHe shook his head sadly.\n  \n\n_\"No Sam,_ I _murdered those kids;_ I _was the one with the knife;_ I _lost myself in the pursuit of revenge, and now three lives are forever gone from this world,\"_\n  \n\nHe looked around him and spotted the knife a few paces from where he was sitting, glinting in the sunlight.\n  \n\nHe walked over to it and picked it up; the knife seemed to vibrate in his hand, as if it was eager to spill more blood.\n  \n\n_\"Don't worry,\"_ he said, more to himself than anyone else, _\"You've only got one more life to take...\"_\n  \n\nHe brought the knife to his wrist and closed his eyes as tears streamed down his face.\n  \n\n_\"John!\"_ he heard Sam shout, but he was beyond that now, such was his anguish.\n  \n\nHe took a deep breath, before pressing down slightly with the knife, making it dig into his wrist.\n  \n\n_\"John,\"_ he heard Sam sob again, which was enough to make him open his eyes and look at her.\n  \n\nShe was kneeling in front of him, her eyes bloodshot and watery, and was clutching at his arm in a vain attempt to hold him back.\n  \n\n_\"Please, don't do this,\"_ she whispered, _\"I know life can be hard, I know how life can kick you when you're down, and I know how cruel and unfair life can be, but please, don't throw it all away like this,\"_\n  \n\nJohn held her gaze for a moment, before crumpling against her shoulder, dropping the knife in the process.\n  \n\n_\"Shh,\"_ she whispered into his ear as she stroked his back soothingly, _\"She'd be proud of you, you know,\"_\n  \n\n_\"Thanks Sam,\"_ he sniffled, _\"That means a lot to me,\"_\n  \n\nHe looked around himself for the knife again, but he couldn't see it anywhere.\n  \n\n_\"Maybe it slipped through one of the boards and fell into the river?\"_ Sam suggested.\n  \n\nJohn walked to the edge of the bridge and gazed down into its churning surface, but try as he might, he couldn't spot the knife.\n  \n\n_\"Yeah, maybe,\"_ he replied.\n  \n\nHe looked around one last time, before heading off for home; he didn't want to stay around there any more.\n  \n\nAfter sneaking in the back way and hurriedly washing off the blood staining his hands and clothes, he stripped off and stepped into the shower, letting the steaming water wash away his aching heart.\n  \n\nÂ\u0026nbsp;\n  \n\nThe sun was just setting as the cloaked figure stepped gingerly onto the bridge, cautiously eyeing the three bodies.\n  \n\nIt knelt down and examined one of the wounds, before casting its gaze around it.\n  \n\nA soft glow of light appeared from somewhere, and an answering glow shone from the river beneath it.\n  \n\nSighing, the figure stood up again and raised its hand, from which the glow was coming from, and the knife leapt out of the river and into its outstretched palm.\n  \n\nIt inspected the knife for a moment, before throwing it to the ground and walking off after the kid it saw earlier.\n  \n\nBehind it, the knife quivered half-buried in the wood...\n\nÂ\u0026nbsp;\n\n\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\n\nÂ\u0026nbsp;\n\nLet this story and series be a testament to those whom we've loved and lost, and may those aching hearts find peace in their lives...\n\nBlazingFox\n\n  \n  \n\n"}