Earth. A planet filled with luscious trees, dominant mountains, and majestic seas. A planet where living organisms thrived. Humans, animals, and trees alike were all content with this way of life. Food was plentiful and there were always beverages to quench your thirst. However, good never comes without bad. Problems are a normal occurrence on Earth. Some may vary from just a slight difficulty to a great crisis. But as great the disasters were, they never were able to ruin the Earth's identity and way of life. That was, until the Fall of 2015.
The once-blue skies were now splashed with red paint. All across the world, a bloody sky stood at top. There was not a single cloud that hung in the air. Trees and humans have now lost their meaning. All this...all this was only a minimal part of the changes that happened since that fateful day.
A slim black-haired man stood alone at his two-story home's balcony. His pale face and cold, blank stare were characteristics that anyone would notice at second glance. His most unusual feature, yet also the most eye-catching, were the slits on his face. Three on each cheek. No one knew what they were, nor did they want to find out. He placed his hands into the pockets on his white lab coat, which he wore over a black T-shirt and black slacks. He grasped the chain necklace around his neck and glanced at the scenery. It was a normal sight in a neighborhood in the country of Britain. A calm and peaceful morning, except for one thing. The red sky was there. The color disgusted him.
The man sighed. "Roger...I know you're there."
Behind the transparent door to the balcony, an older man stood, waiting for the scientist. Wrinkles were slowly starting to appear and a shade of silver had completely overcome the black of his scruffy hair. He wore the regular attire of a butler: a black vest that topped a white dress shirt and black slacks. Roger, the old man, however, did not watch the scientist as he stood out in the balcony. A large black blindfold was tied around his head, covering both of his eyes and his entire forehead.
"I'm very sorry for intruding, Master Charodon." He solemnly bowed. "I've noticed that you've been up here for a long time. That is why I decided to accompany you."
Charodon turned his head back towards his butler. "Roger, can I ask you a favor?"
"Yes, anything," the aging butler replied.
Charodon looked back up at the blood red sky. With a sigh, he asked a question that has already been answered many times. "Can I please have a glass of water?"
Roger frowned, pulling his collar. "I'm sorry, sir, but...I can't do that...At least, not anymore." The butler prepared to depart back downstairs. "Instead of water, would you like a glass of quantrum?"
"I think I'll pass," Charodon muttered, clearly upset at the fact that water no longer existed. It was now replaced by an altered form of water called quantrum, a red, disgusting liquid that reminded many of the drink, rum, hence the name quantrum.
The scientist looked back again. Roger had already departed and in his place was nothing but darkness. He took a deep breath of the air, which used to be known as oxygen. "This world...It's changed so much...Too much."
The silence in the neighborhood did not last long. The sound of eggs splattering on the newly polished windows of a nearby house.
"Wake up, Radley, you bastard!" a young man yelled from outside the house. He dug his hand into the egg carton and tossed another egg at the window. Using his brown tail, he grabbed another egg. "Oh, c'mon, Radley. Wake up!"
The window opened in response. A young bald man, around the same age as the prankster outdoors, stuck his head out. "Chandler! After I get dressed, I'm going to destroy-" Radley never was able to finish his sentence. Yolk and egg white splashed all over his face. Egg shards poked at his rough skin. With his thin and narrow tongue, he licked the yolk surrounding his lips off.
Radley stuck his head back out the window once again, dodging an incoming egg. He glared at Chandler with his thin, yellow eyes. "After I get out of my pajamas...You're gonna get it!" he yelled, before darting back into his room.
Chandler chuckled. "What a chump." The young man had well-tanned skin that matched his messy, brown hair. His sleeveless blue vest revealed the black tattoo marks on his tough arms. However, like everyone else, he wasn't a mere human, at least not anymore. A long tail, jagged teeth, and sharp claws set him apart from the others.
Out of nowhere, a stream of red liquid splashed all over the young man. "Hey! What the hell!"
Radley held the pump in his hand, setting the output of the quantrum at max. "Haha! Suffer!" The bald man hissed at his rival, sending him scurrying back towards his own home.
"I'll get you back for that!" Chandler swore as he ran across a neighbor's field towards his house.
Immediately, the man was snatched up by a large, sturdy branch by the leg. Holding Chandler upside down, the figure pulled him towards his enormous eyes: two black holes. Once a tree, it's life was changed drastically like everyone else's was that one day. Once a motionless tree, it was now given the traits of a human, creating something people dubbed a treant.
A black gap opened up in between the tree in the shape of a mouth. "We meet again, Mongoose," the treant spoke. "Causing trouble again, I see?"
Chandler chuckled. "Well, looks like the local neighborhood sheriff is back in town. Welcome back, Sheriff Leif."
The treant grinned. "Hah! I was never gone. I just thought that maybe you children here in this area would be able to take care of yourselves, but it looks this place needs some babysitting."
Suddenly, the door to the house the front lawn belonged to opened. A tall butler stood, holding the door open for the scientist who slowly and calmly walked outdoors. "It's been a while, Leif. You're starting to look kinda green. Are you feeling alright?" he spoke, opening his mailbox.
"Don't patronize me, Shark," Lief replied, tossing Chandler aside.
"Ow!" he yelped, landing on his back. He picked himself up, although still limping. "Seriously...You don't just throw people around."
The large treant watched as Charodon handed the mail to his butler. "How's your research doing?" he finally asked.
"Nothing important yet...I'm going to go for a short walk."
Charodon glanced at the treant with a blank stare. He brushed past the sheriff and headed towards a larger part of the neighborhood.
Leif focused his attention on Roger, who stood in place as if he was a statue. "Bat, at this rate, the man's going to die pretty soon."
The butler nodded. Grabbing the knob of the door, he prepared to shut it. "It's what he's dedicating his life to doing, Leif. He's doing this for the world."
"But you do know that it's almost impossible to accomplish that," the sheriff shot back immediately.
"Ugh...Awkward, two antiques talking. I'm outta here," Chandler muttered to himself, strolling back towards his house.
Roger grinned. "I'm sure he can overcome it though...I'm sure he can turn things back to the way it was...20 years ago."