The Marinzean Epic, Part II:
The Price
Chapter One
*SWISH!* The crowd cheered loudly as Garrett made another three point
shot from his wheelchair. The opposing team didn't look pleased, thinking
someone with a handicap would have been easy to beat. Garrett looked
around at the hundreds of fans and couldn't help but laugh out loud. This
had always been his dream, and now here he was, in the NBA. And he had made
the winning shot.
He looked in the crowd and was able to see his friends. Eduardo, Kylie,
Roland, Egon and Janine were making their way down the stands to greet him.
Garrett rolled his way across the basketball court to see them and, as he got
closer, he realized they did not have smiles on their faces. On the contrary,
they were of desperation.
"Hey guys!" Garrett said, trying to keep up his cheerful mood; he had
always enjoyed a good dose of adrenaline, and right now he was on a high he
never thought he could top. "Don't everybody congratulate me at once, now!"
His team mates didn't even seem to hear him. Egon pulled out his PKE
meter, looked at it, then down at Garrett. A feeling of dread washed over
Garrett, and nested itself in the pit of his stomach. One by one they all
looked up, toward the roof of the stadium. Garrett followed.
A small trickle of green slime began seeping in through the ceiling.
Garrett looked around at the crowd, but they appeared to be oblivious. The
small trickle soon began to gush through the walls, dripping into the stands.
The crowd began to scream in terror; those who had been hit by the slime
screamed in pain.
The slime began to seep onto the basketball court, and Garrett's
claustrophobia began to get the better of him. Soon there wouldn't be any-
place for his wheelchair to go; he'd be the easiest target.
The walls of the stadium were pulsating now, almost as if the stadium
were a heart, pumping out streams of the green slime. In the stands, people
were running for their lives. Those who were attacked by the almost life-
like slime dropped to the floor convulsing and screaming. Garrett looked on
at the victims of the slime in horror as he saw their bones begin to grow and
shift as they took on the forms of...Marinzeans!
Roland, Egon, Eduardo and Kylie simultaneously reached behind them for
their proton guns. Garrett followed their actions and, to his surprise,
found he had on his proton pack. Wasn't I just playing basketball?! Garrett
thought to himself, confused.
Pushing his confusion aside, Garrett charged up his pack and fired at the
approaching trails of slime. The trail stopped where he had hit it, but the
rest closed in faster. His team mates began shooting as well, only instead
of aiming for the slime, they were aiming for the Marinzeans. Garrett looked
at his friends, shocked, and tried to yell over the sounds of blaster fire
and screams, "Guys, what are you doing? Those are people!"
"They're not anymore, muchacho," Eduardo replied coldly. Their faces void
of any expression, they shot into the crowd. The humans-turned-Marinzeans
that they hit let out a defeaning shriek and melted into pools of the green
slime.
As fast as Garrett was firing at the green slime, more was advancing
towards him him.
"Guys!" Garrett yelled, "We've got to get out of here!"
The team stopped firing, turning their stone cold gazes toward Garrett.
For a moment, Garrett began to fear his team more than the slime. But then
Egon, seeming for the first time to realize the danger they were in, told
them to retreat.
Garrett's team mates turned and began running towards the nearest exit,
blasting a path through the slime. "Guys, wait up!" Garrett yelled at them,
panic beginning to edge into his voice as he moved his wheelchair as fast as
he could.
But he was not fast enough. The green slime advanced on him from behind,
going underneath the wheelchair to slow Garrett down. Garrett felt the slime
oozing up his arms and chest, could see it crawling up his legs. The slime
covering him began to glow, so bright that Garrett had to shut his eyes. It
began to sink itself into his skin, as if he were absorbing it into him.
Then it stopped. The slime that was covering him was gone. The slime
advancing on him stopped, seemed uninterested anymore. A great pain was
shooting up both his legs...
Garrett stopped, reached down and touched his legs; he could feel them!
He raised his left leg into the air, and then his right. He had always
dreamed of this moment. He stood up from his wheelchair, turned, and kicked
it away. he looked towards the exit that the team was running towards. They
had all stopped, looking back at him, but not with wonder or amazement, but
with that creepy, cold stare.
Garrett ignored their looks. Wearing the biggest smile he had ever made,
he strode quickly toward his friends, oblivious to the chaos and screams
around him. But his smile didn't last long. His skin began to burn and itch.
He looked at his skin and noticed small droplets of the green slime beginning
to pump out of his pores. His entire body began to ache. He screamed and
nearly lost his balance as the first wave of pain struck him. His body was
becoming bony and jagged; he was becoming a Marinzean!
He began stumbling towards his team mates for help. When he was about
ten feet away, Egon drew his proton blaster and aimed it at Garrett. The
rest of his friends followed.
"Wh-what are you doing?" Garrett rumble the words out of his near-inhuman
body.
Egon stared at him with the same cold look and replied, "You should have
known, Garrett, that a gift that good never comes without a price." Egon
looked to the rest of the team. "Ready?"
Garrett tried to turn and run but fell, tired, confused and hurt, flat on
the floor of the pulsing basketball court. Laying on the floor, Garrett used
his last bit of strength to lift his head and look on at his friends one last
time as Egon spoke the last words Garrett would ever hear:
"Fire!"
Garrett sat up in bed trembling. His face and neck were drenched from
sweat. He looked around his room, trying to calm his breathing down a little.
He shuddered as fragments of the nightmare began to slop away from his memory,
leaving the feeling of total dread in the pit of his stomach from his dream.
That feeling, and the look of the cold, heartless eyes his friends ahd stared
at him with.
Getting ahold of himself, he looked over at his clock. It was pretty
early in the morning, but late enough so that he could get up and get ready
for school. He wasn't particularly excited about going to school, but at the
same time he felt he would do anything to keep his mind off that horrid dream.
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