Post by Zasalamel Devlin on Apr 3, 2007 19:02:20 GMT -5
[[This seems odd to me, but I might change it a little to make it fit, so enjoy.]]
Zasalamel bowed to his guests as he looked around the room. The servants came and went with plates stockpiled with food. He tapped the crystal goblet sharply, quieting the crowd. “Thank you all so much for coming here, on the night of my twentieth birthday. For a second there, I thought that you came because you were my friends.” The crowd laughed. “So as we all know, this is the time for me to stand up, make a idiotic joke, and then give a speech. Wait a minute, I’m already standing, and I gave a joke. What the hell?” The crowd laughed again. “So now, it’s time for the speech. But before I start it, the servants will bring you all a pillow, so when you fall asleep, you won’t hit your…”
Click. “And in other news, the weather is clear, sunny, and will be so all day. Susan?” Zasalamel’s head shot up a few inches, and then fell back down in a different position. Click. Beep. Beep. Beep. Zasalamel’s head shot up again and took up the radio, then threw it against the wall, where the beeping slowly died down. He ruffled his short, auburn hair, and then scratched his left eye socket, where his eye used to be. He yawned and looked around, blinking wearily. As his eye fell upon a small 3”x3” package, something clicked.
He picked it up slowly, and noticed the scrawled note to be of his father’s handwriting. He opened the package carefully and inside it resided an ornately crafted, golden eye. “No way,” he whispered in amazement. He inserted it, and it shrunk to fit his eye socket. Then it started to spin nauseatingly. “Ah!” he shouted and fell to the floor.
Seconds later, his father came rushing in. “Something the matter son?” He looked at Zasalamel then chuckled. “I see you found your new eye.” Zasalamel put his palm to stop the eye from spinning and looked up, dumbfounded. “Yes, son. It’s yours. Happy Birthday!”
Zasalamel jumped up and ran out of his room shouting, “It’s my birthday!” before Siegfried realized it. Zasalamel jumped down the two flights of stairs and headed to the kitchen. He sat down in his seat and looked around. “Mother? Where are you?” Then his mother appeared with a large cake. Zasalamel’s jaw dropped. “For me?”
“Yes,” was his mother’s reply as she set it down in front of him. On the cake it showed a scythe being crossed by a zweihänder, with a snake-like S going through them. “Happy birthday.”
Hours later.
Zasalamel leaned back in the reclining chair, finishing off his piece of cake, when he noticed an owl sitting on the window perch. “Huh, I wonder how long that’s been there.” He opened the window, and let the owl in. The owl dropped the letter it had, then left.
“What’s this?” On the front it said:
Mr. Zasalamel Devlin.
First Bedroom, Fourth Floor
Number 666, Devlin Mansion
London
He opened it carefully and inside it read, “Dear Mr. Devlin, we are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Accompanying this letter is your book list.”
Zasalamel blinked several times as his parents came walking in. “What’s the matter son?” They asked. He held it up to them, and Siegfried took it and quickly scanned over it. He started to beam and slapped Zasalamel on the back, while his mother started to cry.
“What’s wrong with mum?” Zasalamel asked as he watched.
“She’s very happy as am I,” Siegfried replied honestly. “I have a gift for you because of this.” He went down another flight of stairs to the ground floor, and came back with a scythe. Not any scythe, but Kafziel. “This is now yours, son. You practiced with it for years after you lost your eye, so now you deserve it.”
Zasalamel took Kafziel into his hands and started to imitate his mother by crying. He stopped instantly, seeing if Siegfried saw it. He didn’t, so he hefted the scythe, which was two feet taller than him, and saluted. “Thanks dad.”
Zasalamel bowed to his guests as he looked around the room. The servants came and went with plates stockpiled with food. He tapped the crystal goblet sharply, quieting the crowd. “Thank you all so much for coming here, on the night of my twentieth birthday. For a second there, I thought that you came because you were my friends.” The crowd laughed. “So as we all know, this is the time for me to stand up, make a idiotic joke, and then give a speech. Wait a minute, I’m already standing, and I gave a joke. What the hell?” The crowd laughed again. “So now, it’s time for the speech. But before I start it, the servants will bring you all a pillow, so when you fall asleep, you won’t hit your…”
Click. “And in other news, the weather is clear, sunny, and will be so all day. Susan?” Zasalamel’s head shot up a few inches, and then fell back down in a different position. Click. Beep. Beep. Beep. Zasalamel’s head shot up again and took up the radio, then threw it against the wall, where the beeping slowly died down. He ruffled his short, auburn hair, and then scratched his left eye socket, where his eye used to be. He yawned and looked around, blinking wearily. As his eye fell upon a small 3”x3” package, something clicked.
He picked it up slowly, and noticed the scrawled note to be of his father’s handwriting. He opened the package carefully and inside it resided an ornately crafted, golden eye. “No way,” he whispered in amazement. He inserted it, and it shrunk to fit his eye socket. Then it started to spin nauseatingly. “Ah!” he shouted and fell to the floor.
Seconds later, his father came rushing in. “Something the matter son?” He looked at Zasalamel then chuckled. “I see you found your new eye.” Zasalamel put his palm to stop the eye from spinning and looked up, dumbfounded. “Yes, son. It’s yours. Happy Birthday!”
Zasalamel jumped up and ran out of his room shouting, “It’s my birthday!” before Siegfried realized it. Zasalamel jumped down the two flights of stairs and headed to the kitchen. He sat down in his seat and looked around. “Mother? Where are you?” Then his mother appeared with a large cake. Zasalamel’s jaw dropped. “For me?”
“Yes,” was his mother’s reply as she set it down in front of him. On the cake it showed a scythe being crossed by a zweihänder, with a snake-like S going through them. “Happy birthday.”
Hours later.
Zasalamel leaned back in the reclining chair, finishing off his piece of cake, when he noticed an owl sitting on the window perch. “Huh, I wonder how long that’s been there.” He opened the window, and let the owl in. The owl dropped the letter it had, then left.
“What’s this?” On the front it said:
Mr. Zasalamel Devlin.
First Bedroom, Fourth Floor
Number 666, Devlin Mansion
London
He opened it carefully and inside it read, “Dear Mr. Devlin, we are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Accompanying this letter is your book list.”
Zasalamel blinked several times as his parents came walking in. “What’s the matter son?” They asked. He held it up to them, and Siegfried took it and quickly scanned over it. He started to beam and slapped Zasalamel on the back, while his mother started to cry.
“What’s wrong with mum?” Zasalamel asked as he watched.
“She’s very happy as am I,” Siegfried replied honestly. “I have a gift for you because of this.” He went down another flight of stairs to the ground floor, and came back with a scythe. Not any scythe, but Kafziel. “This is now yours, son. You practiced with it for years after you lost your eye, so now you deserve it.”
Zasalamel took Kafziel into his hands and started to imitate his mother by crying. He stopped instantly, seeing if Siegfried saw it. He didn’t, so he hefted the scythe, which was two feet taller than him, and saluted. “Thanks dad.”
I liked it.
