Ωmega
Four score and seven years ago
- 68
- Posts
- 14
- Years
- In ur nomz, nomming ur nomz.
- Seen Apr 27, 2012
Alright, this is my first fanfic attempt. Comments and constructive criticism will help dearly.
WARNING: This fanfic is rated PG17 for violence, sexual references, and all that other juicy adult-themed stuff.
Here is some of that awesome stuff you'd read on the back of books. I want to put this in...simply for kicks and giggles. :D
The world has been split into two after the Great War. It left the world in devastating ruins that continue to have an impact. The Chosen, individuals who were unaffected by the war, make up a majority of the remaining population while they attempt to rebuild the world.
Then there are the Unchosen, those who have been altered by the Great War. They are actively hunted by the Chosen and strive to remain in the shadows until equality between the two sides come to terms.
Pearson Elliot is an Unchosen on the run. This is his story of love, deception, vengeance, adventure, and closure as he tries to comes to terms with his fate.
And now, I present to you, unCHOSEN.
DO NOT READ! It is incomplete for now because I have to go to bed. I will finish this as soon as I wake up.
It wasn't his choice to be who he was. Fate just had an uncanny way of revealing the most gruesome of truths to those who don't deserve it and Pearson was no exception. Pearson Elliot, just shy of 18, had done no harm to anyone. His shy demeanor and innocent child-like face didn't give a single hint of hostility to anyone who met him. He had soft grey eyes and short brown hair. His cream skin blended well into the daylight as he ran, ducking behind buildings. His wear--a pair of black shorts with the left pocket torn, a white undershirt, and a pair of black and white Converse sneakers--allowed him to move with ease for he needed to.
Pearson Elliot, or simply "Elliot" as he preferred to be called, was one of the Unchosen. After the Great War, the world was divided into two main factions: the Chosen and the Unchosen. The Chosen were normal people, unaffected by the war, attempting to rebuild the world that lay in ruins. The Unchosen, on the other hand, suffered major complications after the Great War that made them threats to society and, as such, were hunted down. They were forced to run and hide, trying to stay away from the Chosen until the day came where the two could live in peace.
The sun was beating on Elliot's brow as he ran behind the ruined buildings of what was once Verros City. I can't stop, he thought to himself as he ducked behind a dumpster in a damp abandoned alleyway. He sat silently as footsteps raced past him, their voices clambering with intensity and hostility towards their target. When silence fell once again, Elliot got up and ran the opposite way, across the street into an abandoned building with a large gaping hole in the left face. "I should be safe here," he said to himself as he slid down the wall and plopped on the wooden floor. It creaked under his weight and he waited to catch his breath. Thoughts raced around in his head as he tried to understand why people were chasing him.
The sun came through the large hole, resting upon the resting Elliot as he stared out the hole at what was Verros City, though it now lay in smoking ruins, the remnant fires of the Great War beginning to dwindle into miniscule flames of memory. Elliot pondered on the thought of what he did wrong and why a mob was chasing him through the ashed streets but he could not come to a conclusion. "Why is this happening to me?!" he exclaimed out loud. His voice echoed in the empty building. Bats flew out into the open, away from the building and the troubled man. An eerie breathing noise was heard from behind Elliot. "Who's there?" he asked as he peered around the corner. The sun was not shining there and it was shrouded in darkness, not wanting to be seen by the world. A figure approached from the shadows, supported by a cane and nothing more.
"I was here first. Get out of here," the man said. He was frail and weak and old, his hair falling out of his liver-spotted scalp, his nails growing to out of control lengths. Elliot could smell him from where he was for his putrid odor radiated around the room. His tattered clothes gave an indication of age: he was rather old, nearing his death, yet somehow managing to stay alive.
"What?" Elliot asked as he wiped his face with his hand, examining the man further.
"I said get out of here. I was here first and if they come here, I'll be dead," the man said in a gravely voice, looking out of the window that was next to him. He spotted a mob walking the streets, some with guns, others with knives and torches.
"What do you mean? I have no clue what's going on!" Elliot exclaimed out. His voice rang out into the streets. The mob picked up this voice and turned their attention towards him.
"There's one right there!" one of them cried out, pointing at the old man.
"Damn you. Now I have to leave!" the old man exclaimed. He dropped his cane and ran towards the gaping hole, leaping out of it towards the ground three floors below.
"No!" Elliot cried out running after him. To his amazement, the man sprouted wings and flew high into the air, away from the people who were hunting Elliot.
"I got him, boss!" one of the mob members cried out as he stepped forward, bringing out a large sniper rifle. He aimed it carefully before a single shot rang out. The flying man was far away, but the shot hit, causing him to plummet to the ground. Elliot stood there in amazement as the man fell to the earth.
"Look! There's the one we were looking for!" another cried out, pointing at Elliot. He looked over in shock, then ran inside the building. There wasn't really anywhere to run except out of another hole leading towards the alley. Elliot didn't have much of a choice, so he jumped out of the hole, thirty feet to the ground.
Moments later, he came to his senses, but he was being dragged by his collar by an unknown person.
"What the-?"
"Shutup and you live," the man said harshly as he continued to drag Elliot. "You know, you're real stupid for thinkin' that you could do what that man did. I done saw the whole thing and I just stood there shakin' my head," the man said to Elliot in a thick Southern accent.
"Who are you?"
Alright, I have to go to bed now. I'm gonna finish this when I wake up. :D
WARNING: This fanfic is rated PG17 for violence, sexual references, and all that other juicy adult-themed stuff.
Here is some of that awesome stuff you'd read on the back of books. I want to put this in...simply for kicks and giggles. :D
The world has been split into two after the Great War. It left the world in devastating ruins that continue to have an impact. The Chosen, individuals who were unaffected by the war, make up a majority of the remaining population while they attempt to rebuild the world.
Then there are the Unchosen, those who have been altered by the Great War. They are actively hunted by the Chosen and strive to remain in the shadows until equality between the two sides come to terms.
Pearson Elliot is an Unchosen on the run. This is his story of love, deception, vengeance, adventure, and closure as he tries to comes to terms with his fate.
And now, I present to you, unCHOSEN.
DO NOT READ! It is incomplete for now because I have to go to bed. I will finish this as soon as I wake up.
Spoiler:
I
Solace of the Unsung Hero
Solace of the Unsung Hero
It wasn't his choice to be who he was. Fate just had an uncanny way of revealing the most gruesome of truths to those who don't deserve it and Pearson was no exception. Pearson Elliot, just shy of 18, had done no harm to anyone. His shy demeanor and innocent child-like face didn't give a single hint of hostility to anyone who met him. He had soft grey eyes and short brown hair. His cream skin blended well into the daylight as he ran, ducking behind buildings. His wear--a pair of black shorts with the left pocket torn, a white undershirt, and a pair of black and white Converse sneakers--allowed him to move with ease for he needed to.
Pearson Elliot, or simply "Elliot" as he preferred to be called, was one of the Unchosen. After the Great War, the world was divided into two main factions: the Chosen and the Unchosen. The Chosen were normal people, unaffected by the war, attempting to rebuild the world that lay in ruins. The Unchosen, on the other hand, suffered major complications after the Great War that made them threats to society and, as such, were hunted down. They were forced to run and hide, trying to stay away from the Chosen until the day came where the two could live in peace.
The sun was beating on Elliot's brow as he ran behind the ruined buildings of what was once Verros City. I can't stop, he thought to himself as he ducked behind a dumpster in a damp abandoned alleyway. He sat silently as footsteps raced past him, their voices clambering with intensity and hostility towards their target. When silence fell once again, Elliot got up and ran the opposite way, across the street into an abandoned building with a large gaping hole in the left face. "I should be safe here," he said to himself as he slid down the wall and plopped on the wooden floor. It creaked under his weight and he waited to catch his breath. Thoughts raced around in his head as he tried to understand why people were chasing him.
The sun came through the large hole, resting upon the resting Elliot as he stared out the hole at what was Verros City, though it now lay in smoking ruins, the remnant fires of the Great War beginning to dwindle into miniscule flames of memory. Elliot pondered on the thought of what he did wrong and why a mob was chasing him through the ashed streets but he could not come to a conclusion. "Why is this happening to me?!" he exclaimed out loud. His voice echoed in the empty building. Bats flew out into the open, away from the building and the troubled man. An eerie breathing noise was heard from behind Elliot. "Who's there?" he asked as he peered around the corner. The sun was not shining there and it was shrouded in darkness, not wanting to be seen by the world. A figure approached from the shadows, supported by a cane and nothing more.
"I was here first. Get out of here," the man said. He was frail and weak and old, his hair falling out of his liver-spotted scalp, his nails growing to out of control lengths. Elliot could smell him from where he was for his putrid odor radiated around the room. His tattered clothes gave an indication of age: he was rather old, nearing his death, yet somehow managing to stay alive.
"What?" Elliot asked as he wiped his face with his hand, examining the man further.
"I said get out of here. I was here first and if they come here, I'll be dead," the man said in a gravely voice, looking out of the window that was next to him. He spotted a mob walking the streets, some with guns, others with knives and torches.
"What do you mean? I have no clue what's going on!" Elliot exclaimed out. His voice rang out into the streets. The mob picked up this voice and turned their attention towards him.
"There's one right there!" one of them cried out, pointing at the old man.
"Damn you. Now I have to leave!" the old man exclaimed. He dropped his cane and ran towards the gaping hole, leaping out of it towards the ground three floors below.
"No!" Elliot cried out running after him. To his amazement, the man sprouted wings and flew high into the air, away from the people who were hunting Elliot.
"I got him, boss!" one of the mob members cried out as he stepped forward, bringing out a large sniper rifle. He aimed it carefully before a single shot rang out. The flying man was far away, but the shot hit, causing him to plummet to the ground. Elliot stood there in amazement as the man fell to the earth.
"Look! There's the one we were looking for!" another cried out, pointing at Elliot. He looked over in shock, then ran inside the building. There wasn't really anywhere to run except out of another hole leading towards the alley. Elliot didn't have much of a choice, so he jumped out of the hole, thirty feet to the ground.
Moments later, he came to his senses, but he was being dragged by his collar by an unknown person.
"What the-?"
"Shutup and you live," the man said harshly as he continued to drag Elliot. "You know, you're real stupid for thinkin' that you could do what that man did. I done saw the whole thing and I just stood there shakin' my head," the man said to Elliot in a thick Southern accent.
"Who are you?"
Spoiler:
Alright, I have to go to bed now. I'm gonna finish this when I wake up. :D