by Jack Hammond
“Echelon four… prepare.” The voice said.
Sadie raised the fiery pink blades above her head to a roar of applause from the crowd, Wesley included.
The voice continued. “Echelon five… prepare.”
The boy raised a colossal fist into the air, receiving a loud ovation too, although Wesley booed as loudly as he could. He may have been drowned out, but at least he gave it his all.
The voice boomed, “Clash!”
Sadie’s manifestation charged at the sand giant. The pink flames streaking behind her like a blur. The devastating fist of the giant rose above its head as he brought it down on the advancing vixen. Sadie’s blade met the fast approaching fist, slicing through it as she leapt through the air. With a puff of dust the hand dissolved, but the fist began to reform the second the pink flame had dissipated. Landing on the floor, she rolled forward, moving underneath the towering monster.
Sadie dodged each tremor inducing stomp with ease as she spun around. The vibrant pink rays flashed from the blades striking the sand beasts legs. He reeled back and raised his fists to the colosseum sky before thundering them down. A whirl of golden sand grains swirled around her. Unable to fight it off she was lifted into the air, before being thrown across the arena, her body thumping into the Tuscan stone.
Wesley winced at the sight of Sadie being tossed aside. “Get up!” he shouted trying to encourage her even though he knew she could not hear him. The giant threw his hands up high, building up the crowd to a fever pitch. He reminded Wesley of a wrestler, engaging the audience as the opponent prepared to hit him with a chair or pair of step ladders.
Sadie rose from the floor and appeared to be unharmed from the hit. The blazing pink blades began to spin, the crowd waited with bated breath as Sadie slammed the swords together. A pink phoenix was channelled through the explosion of light. Its enormous wings spread outwards as it soared across the battle ground. The pink flames lapping at the air as the conjured creature flew at the sand monster. The manifestation wrapped itself around the fifty foot beast. Sadie's phoenix easily snared him, as the boy thrashed about, trying to break free.
Sadie swung the blades again, only this time she dropped to her knees plunging the swords into the ground. A beam of pink energy lashed across the colosseum, hitting the ensnared creature, over and over. The unrelenting whips of energy were obviously too much to take, the final ray crackled into the sand giant’s chest, and the manifestation disintegrated. The young boy in the pyjama ensemble was thrown to the floor with a bump.
Sadie reaped the applause and adulation of the crowd as she raised the blades above her head. The ovation was appreciative of an epic battle, Wesley leading it from the tiers. Incredible he thought, he should write this down when he gets up. The Vixen pointed her blades at him and smiled. Wesley looked around as another cheer erupted, maybe it was a challenge? If it was, he wasn't going to fight her or the thing she beat.
“The echelon four, wins!” the voice announced the crowd silenced by its majesty. “You rise to the fifth!”
The crowd went wild as Sadie produced some moves to entertain the masses gathered. She was quite the show woman, he wondered if she was like that in real life. Maybe he would find out tomorrow when he met her. Wesley paused and then laughed out loud. Idiot! He said to himself.
Wesley opened his eyes, he could hear a noise. No longer asleep, he had returned to his room. The red numbers on his alarm clock told him he had been asleep for a few hours. Then he heard it again, a faint calling drawing him to his window. Not enough to disturb the house, but enough to wake him from his dream. He got up and moved precariously over to the glass, letting out a jaw cracking yawn as he went. Cautiously he moved back the curtain and peered out into the street.
A man stood under the lamppost, he was bathed in the light that it produced. Around him was darkness, yet he was plain to see. Wesley didn’t fear the dark or the man, but he still ducked out of sight. There was something weird about the stranger. This was a sensation Wesley was getting, more and more, since he had celebrated his birthday. He had begun to sense things, that before he wouldn’t have noticed, stuff that should scare him. But now, on some level he understood them, well, knew they weren’t here to hurt him.
Shaved head and wearing a black Adidas tracksuit, he looked up at the window. He knew he was looking and smiled, Wesley didn’t recognise him, but he was still half asleep. He rubbed his eyes and looked again; the man was gone, disappearing into the night. Who was he? Had he been waiting for him? Wesley was too tired, he couldn’t think clearly now. Wesley sat at his desk and picked up a pencil, a 2B he’d bought for his art and design course. He opened the drawing pad and drew even though he wasn’t completely awake. His eyes were heavy; his head dropping lower before he jolted it back up as he fought off slumber’s touch.
Still dressed from the previous day, Wesley was awoken as the sunlight cut through the break in the curtain. He squeezed his eyes shut and pulled his arm across his face, to shield himself from the bright glare. He let out a loud groan as he sat up; Wesley couldn't remember falling asleep, he could remember the dream, he recalled the man outside his window. But dropping off to sleep, he had no recollection of it. He gave out an even louder yawn and stretched before pushing himself up from the desk.
His eyes locked on the sketch pad, with a twitch of indecision he flipped through the pages, almost every page was filled. Wesley noticed his hands covered in graphite from rubbing against the drawings. He looked at the first page as he lowered himself into his seat. A figure carrying a shield and a hammer, drawn excellently, the detail was superb. Wesley was good at drawing, but even he wasn’t sure he could draw such a detailed picture. The next page was a close up of the hammer; the long handle had leather twisted around its fifteen inch grip. A dragon was etched into the solid steel head of the weapon. The detail of the creature was astonishingly accurate, from the scales along the monstrous tail, to the sharp teeth in its terrifying jaws. The opposite page showed a circular shield, a buckler made of steel, just like the hammer. Around the edges were dents and scuffs, like it had seen many battles before. In the centre a depiction of a roaring sabre tooth tiger, again it was amazing; the detail on its fur and eyes was incredible.
Wesley sat back in his seat, puffed out his cheeks and shook his head. This wasn’t possible. He was good at drawing, no doubt, but the detail, the style and the fact he was asleep. Impossible, those pictures should be in the sketch pad, he thought. Unwilling to turn over the next page, he moved from the desk and went to the bathroom.
The shower refreshed Wesley, the clean clothes, and the deodorant added the finishing touches to casting away another weird night. Avoiding his room he made his way into the kitchen for a bowl of cornflakes with cold milk, filling him up it prepared him for the day ahead. Luke had knocked on the door as Wesley dropped the empty dish into the sink, perfect timing Wes thought as he grabbed his coat and headed outside to his friend.
“Morning, Perv.” Luke joked straight away.
“Hello,” Wesley replied ignoring the wisecrack.
Luke smiled, “Ready for the Castle?”
“Yeah, let’s go.” Wes agreed.
Wesley and Luke visited Nottingham Castle at least once a month. They would walk through the exhibits, around the grounds and then head into the market square to the arcade. The place was really a back drop for them; they enjoyed the tranquillity of the surroundings, allowing them to talk about anything from their future, to television. Wesley was sure what today’s topic of conversation would be, it was just a matter of when it would start, on the bus journey or later. They made their way down the street towards the bus stop which was located just at the end of the road.
The morning was milder than previous days. All the weather reports had told everyone to expect snow over the weekend and Wesley and Luke had heeded the warnings, both opting for thick warm blue coats. The bus arrived after just a few minutes wait. They paid their fare and headed to the back of the bus
. They didn’t say much, just made the odd remark about the people they passed on their way into town. The bus squealed to a halt outside the Salutation Inn on Maid Marion Way. The two boys jumped off and walked toward the Castle. It was only a short distance, but Luke couldn’t help but give a sigh.
Wesley waited silently at the traffic lights; he knew Luke wouldn’t be able to keep it in much longer. In fact he had expected the jibes to have come thick and fast on the bus journey, yet Luke had surprised him. Half way up Friar Lane Luke succumbed.
"Okay, what’s going on with you and Sadie?" he said sharply.
Wesley looked at Luke, there was nothing to tell, but he knew that wasn’t going to stop him thinking otherwise. Instead Wesley turned away, his eyes catching sight of a wonderful painting in the Society of Artists Trust window.
“Why won’t you tell me?” Luke’s face was a little twisted.
"Tell you what?" he finally replied. "There's nothing."
The pair stopped outside the castle and continued. “You can’t say there’s nothing going on.” Luke pressed.
“There isn't, seriously!” Wesley’s frustration began to show through, “If there was, I’d have bloody told you, wouldn’t I?”
“Would you though?” Luke retorted back angrily.
“Yeah, of course I would!”
He looked at Wesley’s earnest expression and laughed. His angry demeanour vanishing instantly as he slapped Wesley on the back, “I know you would, pervert.”
Wesley shook his head, he began to smile. “Okay, you got me.”
“Hook, line and copy of angler’s times,” Luke joked, using a line from a show he’d seen on television no doubt.
After paying the entrance fee at the gift shop, the two of them headed inside the grounds of the 17th century building. Not the original Castle but it was still an amazing sight. Beneath the mansion was a network of caves that had seen Kings and conquerors alike in its tumultuous past. Even in winter, the grass was a vibrant green, a long path led up to the structure, weaving between the stone walls and shrubbery that cascaded over them.
The Ducal Mansion was not a castle in the strictest sense, but it still loomed over head. The second tier looked extremely scrunched up, due to a varied variety of architectural styles. They were magnificent, looking as sturdy and formidable as the day it was built. The building had weathered everything Mother Nature had thrown over the years.
Wesley and Luke walked through the exhibits, not really taking much notice of the pieces of history and culture on display. Wesley’s mind was still set firmly on his dream, the amazing scenes he’d witnessed as Sadie had transformed into the pink vixen. He couldn’t help but think how amazing it would be if it were real, but his enjoyment turned sour as he thought about the man outside his window. Why hadn’t he told his mum or dad, had he imagined him? Then there was the sketch pad.
“What’s going on, Wes?” Luke asked genuinely, not a hint of humour in his voice.
“Nothing,” he lied.
“That’s not true, come on,” Luke forced. “What’s up?”
“Luke it’s a muddle in my head.” Wesley admitted.
“Let’s get something to eat. You can tell me all about it.”
Wesley nodded, a trouble shared is a troubled halved, wasn’t that what they said. “Okay.” He added.
Wesley sat down by the window while Luke fetched a couple of drinks and two bags of crisps before joining him. The cafeteria was almost empty; only one other customer was seated at the counter.
Luke was eager to find out the truth, “Okay, lay it out,” he said.
“I’ve been having these weird dreams, I mean crazy ones.”
“Yeah, you told me you had,” Luke said. “What’s crazy about them?”
“They are mental. They’ve really got to me,” Wesley said, almost trying to avoid the subject of explaining them.
“What happens in them?”
“You’ll take the mick, I know you will.” Wesley replied, not wanting to be on the receiving end of Luke’s mockery.
“I always do, I’d do that if you didn’t tell me. I’d make up something, what’s worse?”
Wesley gulped down some of his drink before starting. “Okay, I had a dream I was in a giant fighting arena. It felt real, I mean really, real.”
“Okay.” Luke said opening his crisps, the strong smell of prawns filling his nose.
“I saw this fight.”
“You’re not fighting?” Luke interrupted.
“No, not yet,” he stated.
“Not yet?”
“Yeah, let me tell you, okay?”
“Sorry Wes, go on.” He apologised.
“So I see this stone dragon, it wipes out this ninja. And then I have this shadow wake me up,” Wesley’s explanation not doing his dream justice.
“Right,” Luke’s tone sounded confused.
“I’m not explaining this right, it was so bloody real.”
“Don’t worry, there’s obviously more, carry on.”
“So anyway, the next day Sadie comes up to us.”
“I know this bit.” Luke interjected.
“Yes, I know. I had the dream again, the same dream, only this time Sadie was in it.” Wesley exclaimed.
“She’s in loads of mine,” Luke smirked. “It’s normal you’ve seen her.”
“No, she was fighting. She turned into this ultra-hot woman with swords of fire.”
Luke grinned, “You dreamed about Sadie and you turned her into another woman?”
“I didn’t! Well, I did but...” Wesley stopped talking as another costumer entered the dining area. After he took a seat he continued. “After that I woke up and there was a….” Wesley went silent. His face went blank, emotionless as he caught the reflection of the man at the counter. It was him! The man from outside his window, Wesley shifted uncomfortably in his chair.
Luke pressed. “What’s up, you look like you seen a ghost.”
Wesley hated that saying. “The guy over there,” Wesley said. His tone fearful, “He was outside my house last night.”
Luke gave a sideways glance at him.
“Don’t look! Luke I swear, I’m not messing you about.”
“If you are, it’s the best acting you’ve ever done,” Luke admitted. “You're genuinely freaked out.”
“I have to get out of here!”
The man stood up at the counter, Wesley felt a sudden spasm of panic go through his body. Not looking directly at him, he watched him disappear into the toilets through his peripheral vision. A few moments later followed by the other customer.
“Let’s go, now!” Wesley said alarmed. He left his drink and darted through the doors of the cafe. Luke remained close as the pair ran frantically through the gardens they had sauntered through earlier and out of the exit. Wesley continued to run, passing the Robin Hood statue before ducking into a side street that opened out onto Maid Marion Way.
Luke caught Wesley up, “What the hell!” he puffed. “What was that?” he struggled to catch his breath.
“He was the guy outside my house last night, he must have followed me.”
“Who is he?”
“I don’t know!” Wesley retorted, his voice still panicked and oxygen starved.
“We need to tell your dad, he’ll smash him up!” Luke suggested.
“No!” Wesley replied. He didn’t know why he said it, “I’m not saying anything to my dad.”
“Damn, are you stupid?”
“No, I’m not telling him.” Wesley reiterated.
“So what you going to do?” Luke enquired.
Wesley walked away satisfied he had got enough distance between him and the mystery man. He made his way into market square, Luke following behind and pressing Wes about the man as they went.
“What you planning on doing?” Luke asked.
“Nothing,” he remarked.
“What do you mean nothing?” Luke was shouting now, the lack of answers was beyond irritation, “If yo
u don’t tell your dad, I will. You can’t mess around Wes!”
“You won’t! He’s gone now. You’ll say nothing to my dad,” Wesley said turning back. “Just forget it!”
“He knows where you live, dude!” Luke replied the frustration suddenly gave way to a wide grin. “Oh! You got me!” he threw his hands up in the air, stamping his foot on the floor. “You had me running like a nutcase, you actually made me think that was true.”
Wesley ran through it in his mind and found himself going along with Luke. Quickly slapping a goofy expression on his face, Wesley cajoled, “Yeah, I got you! It was so funny. I was waiting for you to catch me smirking.”
“You know, I swear that guy was watching us. You bloody idiot!” Luke said doubling up with laughter.
Wesley forced a smile, he hated lying to Luke, but he knew he couldn’t tell his dad. Why? He couldn’t say, but it was that feeling again. The sense he’d felt when he first saw him outside the window. “Sorry, I had to do it,” Wesley added.
The afternoon was cold, the sky was beginning to cloud over and the possibility of snow was becoming more likely. Wesley and Luke made their way home after a brief stop at the arcade, where Luke had demolished Wes on another fighting game. The truth was even if Wesley’s heart had been in it he still wouldn’t have stood a chance. Luke’s reflexes and ability to adapt to all types of games was astounding and frustrating in equal measure.
Wesley said goodbye to Luke and went home. Wesley was alone, his mum and dad were out shopping and he headed up to his room. He sat at his desk after throwing off his coat at the door. The sketch pad staring him in the face, he looked at the image of the sabre tooth tiger on the shield, it looked fantastic. Wesley’s mind was still a tussle, trying to work out to how he had drawn it.
He saw another well detailed drawing. A graphite image illustrated a flaming dragon above the silhouette of a gladiator wielding a hammer and shield. Where had his inspiration come from? How could he draw such remarkable pictures and have no memory of it? The opposite page was an image of a three headed Hydra, towering over the small silhouetted fighter. He recoiled as he turned the page. It was a perfect drawing of Sadie’s transformation. The pencil strokes highlighting the magnificence of the pink curved blades she’d used to dispatch the sand creature in his dream.
