Shake The Desease (standard:fantasy, 2095 words) [1/11] show all parts
Author: Jenkis	Updated: Dec 18 2000	Views/Reads: 3770/2241	Part vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
First in the series following the life of Drakon; a boy on the verge of becoming a man living in a future world where the rules have changed. After WWIV, the earth became a dark and desolate place, the humans having made a pact with their greatest enemy,

Part I: The Beginning 

The boy awoke with a start then sighed with relief. It was Day Time. His
window was closed. He slowly got out of bed and walked to his window. 
He brushed his raven-black hair from his dark sapphire eyes and 
hesitated before drawing back the curtains. Downstairs he could see the 
family that resided across the street gathered outside. They simply 
stood there motionless, staring at the floor. Only Kythe, the family’s 
youngest son, was missing. The boy at once understood and also bowed 
his head solemnly, hoping Kythe really was resting in peace. But he 
also couldn’t help a tiny feeling of comfort that he hadn’t been picked 
by the *Vampyres* instead of Kythe. Both the boy and the family, and 
every other resident of his block remained motionless in front of their 
lawns and windows, bidding Kythe farewell. Forever. Only the boy 
stopped to wonder, and not for the first time, what really happened 
when the *Vampyres* took you. His little sister, Kirsten, had told him 
that you died and he pondered if this was true after one morning he 
awoke to find her missing from her bed. He missed Kirsten, truly. 
Somewhere deep in his heart he wished that she wasn’t right about the 
*Vampyres*. That They didn’t kill you but took you to a magical world 
of night and color instead. She would always tell him. “Drakon, one day 
you and I are going to chase the Sunset together.” And she’d meant it, 
too. No, really. It was sad about Kirsten. 

He dressed now in his usual (and required) black attire and inserted the
black lenses to hide the color of his eyes, as it was also obligatory. 
He walked thoughtfully to Schooling, muttering a quiet hello to Sioux, 
the girl that lived two doors from his house. Today he felt 
exceptionally reflective; questions repeated themselves inside his head 
incessantly. What had it been like before World War IV? Before the 
Pact? Had people really stayed out after Sunset, dancing their problems 
away? Were there really people who wore bright colors without being 
punished? Did colors that bright really exist? What was Music really 
like? Did most kids really survive after turning seventeen? (A question 
that made him particularly worried since that was a mere 6 months away 
in his case) What was Love? “Drakon, you shouldn’t question those 
things,” said Lazarus during Time Out, his black eyes staring fixedly 
at him, “The Elders have told us not to and they know best. Besides, if 
they happened to hear you, they would send you to Treatment.” Drakon 
considered this. No one really knew what went on during Treatment. 
People seldom, if ever, came back and if they did; they weren’t 
themselves anymore. Sure they looked like themselves and talked like 
themselves and acted likewise, but it wasn’t really them. Their true 
“essence” was gone. The thought of his “essence” being gone made Drakon 
shiver from the bottom of his heart. He said nothing for the remaining 
time of the day. 

“I know what you mean,” said Sioux as they walked home together. He
stopped and turned to look at her. Her hair was raven black, he 
wondered if it was really that color or had been dyed to go with what 
the laws said, and her eyes were shiny black. Too shiny. So, she wore 
black lenses as well. He wondered about the color of her eyes for a 
moment. “I mean, I’ve been thinking of these things, too,” she added 
softly. “Sioux, do you think it’s true what Willyam before they took 
him to Treatment? That what the Pact really meant was that the 
government told the *Vampyres* they could have one child each night 
from each block in each city, in exchange to let everyone else alone? 
That they actually planned for us to live this way?” he asked, feeling 
an almost irresistible urge to rip the lenses from her eyes. “It had to 
be. Surely it wasn’t like this before the War. My Grandfather used to 
say that his Grandfather would tell him tales of a happier world where 
none of this existed,” she said, “But then my Parents put him in a 
Home,” she added somberly. They started walking again, this time in 
silence. She softly reached out and touched his arm when they reached 
her house. “Sioux,” he softly said, “Maybe one day we can chase the 
Sunset together,” the words escaped his mouth before he could stop 
them. “Drakon,” she whispered, “What if I never see you again?” “You 
will,” he said, then leaned over and whispered in her ear, “Tonight.” 
She looked at him with what he fancied surprise. “What do you mean?” 
she said “Meet me tonight after Sunset in the Forest,” he said “But 
what about the . . . the *Vampyres*?” she uttered “We will be safe. 
They will be too busy finding children in their own bedrooms,” he said 
“But we’re not allowed, Drakon,” she protested again “Please, Sioux,” 
he said suddenly, impulsively reaching out to touch her hand and 
caressing her left ring-finger. She looked up at him, knowing what this 


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