The Kidnap

Currently I'm working on a very ambitious series called "The Kidnap Series." It will be of about seven book, each about an alien-like race. The following is the first chapter of a rough draft of the first book:

Chapter One: What Started it All

I was an inventor.

Quite a fabulous one.

Not expected if you see my grades.

Or my luck.

It was a bad day. (Every day was bad for me, but even that day was out-of-the-ordinary-bad type of day.)

For Starters, I failed in my exam, got hit by a water balloon (Ouch, that HURT), and fell into the swimming pool.

For Enders, I broke my mom’s expensive china vase, blew up the gas cylinder, and pretty much wrecked the whole house.

Of course, all of these happened by accident, but who cared except for me?

By the way, don’t ask me how it happened.

“THAT COST $10000000! HOW ARE YOU GOING TO PAY FOR THAT??????”

My mom’s voice was shaking with outrage and fury. Her voice was booming throughout the whole house, both because she was used to shouting at her colleagues and because of a microchip I invented that magnified her voice around a hundred times. I was wearing earmuffs and I could tell she was shouting at me.

The television was blaring on about mysterious cases of littering in the area around our house, and my mom had enough interviews with the media about this that would last her a thousand lifetimes.

I was used to it. My family was a bit richer than our neighbors, comparing their beautiful, graceful villas to our even more beautiful, graceful palace that towered a hundred feet into the air and covered a total area of around a million square miles.

It also had a zoo of exotic and endangered animals, a forest, a temperature room (a room within which you could control the weather) and more.

Now however, it didn’t look half as good. Because of me.

My mother was an MBA, quite a successful one, and earned approximately $1,921,680,110 per year. She was the CEO of GoogleBoogler, a search engine. Google tried suing them, but failed since my mother said the company didn’t use the exact name. Which resulted in a raise for my mother. GoogleBoogler is famous all over the world, and so is my mom. She loses her temper more easily than I could breathe (I don’t want to know what torture her colleagues go through everyday), and cannot tolerate rock music. Only opera for her. Which is why I designed a sound changer that if I play rock music, it would sound like opera to her. Her irises are blue and her hair is blond. She is fair skinned. Her name was Evelyn White.

My father was a jeweler. He impressed my extravagantly rich mother with a beautiful platinum necklace, with gold entwined through the whole thing. Silver overlapped the gold at certain points, and exotic gems were found throughout the whole necklace. It was so beautiful, my mother asked me to duplicate my alarm system with my duplicating machine and place it on the case in which the necklace was stored. And yes, I designed the duplicator too. He is calmer and quick witted. He cannot tolerate messiness. He loves rock music. His irises are green and hair is brown. He is fair skinned.  His name is Raymond White.

My sister is weird. When I’m angry, she’s mean. When I’m in trouble, she jeers at me. When I’m happy, she’s irritating.  The wrong attitude at the wrong time. And she often messed with my stuff. But the thing I hate most about my sister is that she’s a nerd. Without the glasses and bad fashion taste of course, but she got straight A⁺s in every subject. Some of my teachers accidentally let loose, “Are you actually the smartest girl’s brother?” and instantly repent it when I give them a dirty look. Her name is Jennifer White. She has blue irises and blond hair. She loves rock music and plays it at full volume with a High-Clarity Music and Stereo player that I invented, but for some reason, Mom never bothers her. She gets an allowance of $500 per month, because of her scores.

I-I’m the black sheep. I love rock music, but like opera too. I am quick witted and have a sense of humor. I don’t lose my temper easily, but can’t stand it if someone insults me. I am a fabulous inventor, with inventions nobody believes I made. My parents rarely talk to me, and when they do, it’s mostly to scold or yell at me. In school, I’m known for my humorous answers which anger the teacher, and he either whacks me with a ruler or whips me (They don’t know how rich our family is). I am a master at gymnastics. I have green irises and brown hair. I get an allowance of $100 per month. My name is Benjamin White. 
             Oh yeah. And I broke the 4^th floor of our house. That’s what my mom was referring to. Not the china vase.

My mother slumped down on our expensive sofa made from high quality exotic leather, exhausted from yelling and her job as an MBA.

Placing her hand on her forehead, she said, “You may leave.”

As I walked down the corridor, I ran into my sister who said, “You got in trouble! You got in trouble!” in an annoying voice that made my head ache.

Ignoring her, I felt along the right side wall as though looking for something. I felt a familiar tingle, and I pressed a on the wall. The wall opened slowly, moving into the two hollow walls on either side of it, revealing a black inside with blue neon lights that flashed at regular intervals. It was curved inside. I looked up. There was a seemingly endless passageway, and when I looked down, I felt sick. There was a long tunnel down, and at the bottom, there was a red-hot lava-pit. Meant for intruders who didn’t know that there was a hovervator to send them up. I could see a cylindrical shape zooming up at an unexplainable speed and quickly pulled my head back out of the vault. There was a quiet hum as the hovervator hovered its way down to the opening. As it stopped, the glass that enclosed it opened without as much as a squeak. I stepped in. The glass was ultra-transparent and fingerprints did not affect it, so it actually seemed like I was standing on nothing and I was shooting into the air. It didn’t even bend light, so there was no way someone could actually find out I was in a glass capsule.

A scanner popped out of the wall, its tiny lens going over every inch of my face. The lens was concave, unlike the other video cameras.

The concave lens was able to magnify whatever image was formed so that it could practically see through good disguises.

“Face recognized.” A metallic voice said, seemingly all around me.

It knew my face the best because I invented it. Really. It took me two months.  

I’ll tell you the secret of this beauty. It had a navy blue quantum ball that could only be found in the Benula system in the center, pulsing in order to power the hovervator. It was in a black canister in order to prevent it from escaping and destroying the rest of the house. I wanted to steal the least from nature in order to power my inventions. I was that type of person.

The glass closed. The hovervator shot up like a rocket aiming to go to Mars. Then, with a swish, it dematerialized.

I was left in open air, still shooting up because of the velocity that the hovervator left me at. I felt a material like a sponge gently stop me and bounce me back. I was falling, and I was as helpless as a hamster being held by the neck.

The gray walls zipped past me so fast that I wasn’t sure if I was falling down or it was flying up. Resisting the urge to try to grasp any flaw or edge in order to save myself, I toppled end over end, while briefly glancing from side to side as to when I would be saved. The walls created an illusion of a gray, metallic sea. I knew that I was going down faster than the speed of a car, so my arms, let alone my hands, be ripped off, and I wasn’t quite sure if my mom would exactly smile at a couple of severed arms in the fireplace. Quite the opposite.

Another hum as a secret compartment appeared with a solid slab of metal. I could see my own face reflected off it, as I rushed down toward it with no choice.

At the velocity I was travelling at, the slab would probably fracture my back and damage my spinal cord, wrecking my nervous system permanently. I would become retarded, as you might say. Nothing anyone would want to be.

I didn’t panic. Rather, I felt happy, pleasant, and peaceful. A drifting thought occurred to me that people felt strangely happy when they were about to die. At least people don’t die in sorrow…..

                There was a beep, followed by three others.

What was that? I thought. Weird…

 I hit it – and went right through.

If you were close by, you would realize that the slab was vibrating so violently that you would think it would soon fall off. If you looked even closer, you would realize that there was a form of plaster on the slab that dimly presented a picture of a particularly large bedroom with all sorts of inventions like a robot alarm clock with over one hundred ring tones, a laser shooter (used to cut metal), ray guns, an advanced alarm system, and other things that you couldn’t hope to understand in a million years. If you live for that long anyway. In simple words, you won’t be able to understand it even if you studied mechanics for a life-time. Even my parents didn’t understand my inventions.

I finally collapsed on my bed. I looked around - my laser shooter, ray guns, you name it- wait a second. Two of my Ray Guns were missing. As I turned my head, saw a sight that shocked me out of my wits.

There was an alien on my bed. My files where I kept my blueprints were lying on the ground, my refrigerator door was ripped off, and papers lay all over my ground.

The alien sat there with a maniacal smile like a person who needed to but didn’t have enough money to go to the Mental Hospital just a mile away. Poor lad.

It was drooling all over the bed, I noted with disgust. It would be days before that was cleaned.

It was a beautiful mixture of blue, red and green, forming an intricate design that looked lovely. Its base fur was a aqua blue with that design in red on its left side and green on its right side. On its back, it was written “Heerkroth’s” with two Shruiken and two elaborate daggers behind the meaningless word.

But the main thing that I did not like about it was that it was pointing one of my own ray guns at me (hole first), at level six, which could probably break down a floor of my house. That’s how the floor broke down. I invented it today and tried it out, except the force of the blast at level six toppled me over, diverting my aim to the fourth floor. BUT THAT’S NOT THE POINT. The point is, this killer machine would probably rip me to shreds of cooked meat a hundred times before it ran out of power, that is, for the next few seconds. I was just going to put it in sales for tomorrow for $1000 each as the “Assassin’s Need.” BUT THAT’S NOT THE POINT. The point is, I need to get back to the story quickly before I waste anymore lines on rubbish and scum.

How had it gotten inside? Oh. The three beeps must have been from my security system of my own design. All three beeps together meant “Intruder Has Infiltrated.”

Also, my window was shattered and fragments of the glass lay on the ground.

It grinned a toothy smile. “No Snickers?” and whacked me in the back of my head with the ray gun with the force of a gorilla. My head felt as if it had been hit by a hundred ton hammer. However, I was able to remain conscious even after the hit. Maybe I shouldn’t have eaten the last Snickers yesterday. He grumbled in into a speaker, and leapt outside.

Both of us were falling like a chicken from a rooftop, branches whipping us like an Adrin whips a Vusa. Out of nowhere, a streamlined jet armed with two trailing cannons, six ray guns, and four back cannons shimmered into view.

The top hatch flipped open, and we fell in as neatly as Neat Sue kept her books.

He pressed a button, and we left Wyrnia- wait. You don’t know what Wyrnia, Aldrins, or Vusa are. It seems like you’re living under a rock. Let start from the top, and we’ll return to my HORRIFYING story after a short tea break.