Chapter 1: The Awakening

"Hey, wake up, sleepyhead!" A voice shouted in my ear, making me jump out of my bed.

I groaned and rubbed my eyes, trying to adjust to the bright sunlight that streamed through the window. I looked at the clock and saw that it was already 8:15 am.

"Shit, I'm late!" I exclaimed, grabbing my clothes and rushing to the bathroom.

"Ha ha, gotcha!" The voice laughed. It was my best friend, Jake, who had sneaked into my room while I was sleeping.

"Jake, you jerk! You scared the hell out of me!" I yelled, throwing a pillow at him.

He dodged it easily and grinned. "Come on, man, it's your birthday! You can't sleep all day!"

I sighed and rolled my eyes. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Thanks for the reminder."

I quickly took a shower and got dressed, then grabbed my backpack and ran downstairs. Jake followed me, still chuckling.

"Hey, mom, dad, I'm off to school!" I shouted as I passed by the kitchen.

"Happy birthday, son!" My mom said, smiling. "Have a good day!"

"Thanks, mom!" I said, giving her a hug.

"Be careful out there, okay?" My dad said, handing me a small box wrapped in blue paper. "And don't open this until you get home."

I took the box and felt a slight weight in it. "What is it?" I asked curiously.

"It's a surprise. You'll see." He winked.

I thanked him and put the box in my backpack. Then I ran outside with Jake and got on his bike. He was the one who had a driver's license and a car, but he preferred to ride his bike to school. He said it was more eco-friendly and fun.

We pedaled our way to Westwood High School, which was about 15 minutes away from our neighborhood. Along the way, we chatted about random stuff, like video games, movies, sports, and girls.

Jake was the outgoing and popular type, always surrounded by friends and admirers. He was also good at everything he did: sports, academics, music, you name it. He was the star of the basketball team and the lead singer of a band called The Deadbeats.

I was the opposite of him: quiet and shy, with only a few close friends. I was not good at anything in particular: I was average at sports, mediocre at academics, and clueless about music. I had no talent or passion for anything. I was just…normal.

But despite our differences, we had been best friends since kindergarten. We shared a love for comic books, sci-fi movies, and video games. We also had a similar sense of humor and a loyal bond. We always had each other's back.

We arrived at school just in time for the first period. We parked our bikes in the rack and headed to our lockers.

"Hey, Alex!" A familiar voice greeted me as I opened my locker.

I turned around and saw Mia Collins standing next to me. She was a cute brunette with green eyes and freckles. She wore glasses and braces, but they only added to her charm.

She was also one of my closest friends since elementary school. She was smart and sweet, always helping me with homework and projects. She was also into comic books and sci-fi movies like me and Jake.

She had a crush on me since sixth grade, but I never noticed it until Jake pointed it out to me last year. He said she always blushed when she talked to me or looked at me. He also said she always tried to sit next to me in class or hang out with me after school.

He said I should ask her out or something. But I didn't know how to do that. I liked her as a friend, but I wasn't sure if I liked her as more than that.

Besides, I didn't think she would like the real me. The boring and normal me.

"Hey, Mia." I said with a smile.

"Happy birthday!" She said excitedly, handing me a card with a drawing of a superhero on it.

I opened it and read her message:

Dear Alex, You are my hero. You are brave, kind, funny, and amazing. You make me happy every day. I hope you have the best birthday ever. Love, Mia

I felt a warm feeling in my chest as I read her words. She was so sweet and sincere.

"Thank you so much." I said sincerely.

She smiled shyly and looked away.

"No problem." She said softly.

"So…" Jake interrupted us with his usual smirk. "Are you two lovebirds going to kiss or what?"

We both blushed and looked at him.

"Shut up, Jake." I said, feeling embarrassed.

"Yeah, shut up, Jake." Mia said, feeling annoyed.

Jake laughed and winked at us.

"Come on, guys, I'm just kidding. You know I love you both." He said, putting his arms around our shoulders. "Now let's go to class before we get in trouble."

We followed him to our first period, which was English. We sat in our usual seats: Jake in the front row, me in the middle row, and Mia in the back row.

The teacher, Mr. Jones, was a balding man with glasses and a beard. He was a nice guy, but he was also very strict and boring. He always lectured us about grammar, literature, and poetry. He never let us have any fun or creativity.

He started the class by writing on the board:

Today's topic: The Elements of Fiction

He then turned to face us and cleared his throat.

"Good morning, class." He said in a monotone voice. "Today we are going to learn about the elements of fiction. Fiction is a type of literature that uses imagination and creativity to tell a story. Fiction can be divided into several genres, such as fantasy, science fiction, horror, mystery, romance, and so on. Each genre has its own conventions and rules that define it. For example, fantasy usually involves magic, mythical creatures, and otherworldly settings. Science fiction usually involves technology, aliens, and futuristic scenarios. Horror usually involves fear, suspense, and monsters. Mystery usually involves clues, puzzles, and crimes. Romance usually involves love, relationships, and emotions."

He paused and looked at us with a bored expression.

"Any questions so far?" He asked.

No one raised their hand or said anything. We all knew better than to interrupt him or show any interest in his lectures.

He nodded and continued.

"Good. Now let's talk about the elements of fiction. There are five main elements that make up a fictional story: plot, character, setting, theme, and style. Plot is the sequence of events that happen in the story. Character is the person or animal who acts in the story. Setting is the time and place where the story takes place. Theme is the main idea or message that the story conveys. Style is the way the writer uses words and sentences to create the story."

He wrote these words on the board as he spoke.

"Plot. Character. Setting. Theme. Style." He repeated.

He then pointed at each word with his pointer.

"These are the elements of fiction that you need to know and understand if you want to write or analyze a good story." He said.

He then looked at his watch and sighed.

"Well, it looks like we don't have much time left for today." He said. "So I'll give you an assignment for tomorrow. I want you to write a short story using these elements of fiction. It can be any genre you want, as long as it follows the rules and conventions of that genre. It should be at least two pages long, typed or handwritten neatly. It should have a title, a beginning, a middle, and an end. It should have at least one main character who faces a problem or conflict and tries to solve it or overcome it. It should have a clear setting that describes when and where the story takes place. It should have a theme that expresses what you want to say or teach with your story. And it should have a style that reflects your voice and personality as a writer."

He paused and looked at us with a serious expression.

"This is not an easy assignment." He said sternly. "It will require a lot of imagination and creativity from you. But I believe you can do it if you put your mind to it."

He then smiled slightly and added.

"And who knows? Maybe you'll discover something new about yourself or the world through your story."

He then clapped his hands and dismissed us.

"Class dismissed." He said.

We all got up from our seats and gathered our stuff.

I looked at Jake and Mia with a worried look.

"How are we going to do this?" I asked them.

"I don't know." Jake shrugged. "I'm not good at writing stories."

"Me neither." Mia agreed.

I sighed and felt hopeless.

I had no idea how to write a story either.

I had no imagination or creativity.

I had nothing to say or teach with my story.

I had no voice or personality as a writer.

I was just…normal.

Okay, then I'll try to write it with some help from Dad he is good at telling stories.... (note: sorry for the previous mistake just updated this line :( )

I came back home after school and opened the gifts I received from my friends. They were mostly comic books, video games, and gadgets. Nothing too exciting or surprising.

I went downstairs for dinner and saw my mom waiting for me in the kitchen. She smiled and hugged me.

"Happy birthday, honey!" She said, kissing me on the cheek.

"Thanks, mom." I said, smiling back.

She served me a plate of spaghetti and meatballs, my favorite dish.

"So, how was your day?" She asked, sitting across from me.

"It was okay." I said, shrugging.

"Did you get any good gifts?" She asked, curious.

"Yeah, some." I said, nodding.

She nodded and smiled. Then she remembered something.

"Oh, I almost forgot. I found this box in the attic when I was cleaning up. It looks old and dusty. I don't know what's inside it or where it came from. Do you want to keep it?" She asked, handing me a small wooden box.

I took the box and looked at it. It was worn and faded, with some scratches and stains on it. It had a latch on it, but no lock.

I opened the box and saw a silver pendant with a strange symbol on it. It looked familiar, but I didn't know why.

I felt a sudden attraction to it, like it was calling me.

I picked it up and examined it. It felt cold and smooth in my hand. It had a chain attached to it, so I could wear it around my neck.

I wondered what it was and what it meant. It looked old and mysterious, like it had a history and a purpose.

But I didn't think too much about it. I just thought it was a normal pendant that I liked.

After dinner, I went to bed and fell asleep quickly. I had a strange dream that night.

I dreamed that I was in a dark and ancient library filled with books. The library was huge and labyrinthine, with shelves that reached the ceiling and corridors that twisted and turned. The library was silent and empty, except for me.

I felt drawn to one of the books, which had the same symbol as the pendant on the cover. It was a large and thick book, bound in leather and metal. It had a lock on it, but it opened easily when I touched it with my hand.

I opened the book and read the first page, which said:

This is the Book of the Dead, the most powerful and forbidden tome of necromancy. It contains the secrets of life and death, of souls and spirits, of flesh and bones. It grants the reader the power to control the dead and use mana to wield elemental and space magic. But beware, for this power comes with a price. The more you use it, the more you lose yourself to the darkness. Only those with a strong will and a pure heart can master it without succumbing to its corruption.

As I read these words, I felt a surge of energy in my chest, like a jolt of electricity.

I felt a tingling sensation in my fingers, like a spark of fire.

I felt a wave of pressure in my head, like a blast of wind.

I felt a pull of gravity in my feet, like a drop of water.

I felt a shift of space in my eyes, like a flash of light.

I felt…alive.

I felt…powerful.

I felt…dangerous.

I woke up from the dream, feeling a strange sensation in my chest. I looked at my pendant and saw that it glowed with a faint light.

Then something unexpected happened.

The pendant started to melt into my skin, like liquid metal. It burned and stung me, but I couldn't take it off or scream for help.

It disappeared into my body, leaving behind weird tattoos on my chest, arms, and legs. The tattoos were black and purple, with shapes and patterns that matched the symbol on the pendant.

I felt a shock of pain and fear as I saw them. I didn't know what they were or what they did.

I didn't know that they were.

I didn't know what I had done.

I didn't know what I had become.

I heard a voice in my head, cold and sinister.

It said:

Welcome to the Void.

To be continued…