Alrighty! This is my first story on fictionpress but I have the same story on Wattpad under the same pen name, this was actually an engish assignment but I had decided to write it before to get people's opinions and thanks to one of my friends I had decided to continue it. Once I finish this and start the sequel there will be a parallel to it based on Earth. Please review and enjoy
The rain lashed down upon the academy lawns, running down the wide cut stones of the dormitories. There were a few students hurrying across the lawns to visit their neighbours but only one sat still on the green painted bench at the edge of the lawn. Chess' hair was sopping wet and had cemented itself to the left half of his face, covering the curved burn scar that dragged over his left eye in the shape of a blunt new moon.
A black triangular patch covered his damaged eye under a pair of wire-rimmed glasses, his 'good' one watched the other students lazily, following their sloshing paths through the soaked grass. He shivered and retrieved his scarf from his (thankfully) waterproof messenger bag, the soft grey material wrapping twice around his neck with a short length hanging over his heart and a longer length pooling behind him on the seat. A flittering reached his pointed ears.
He put his fingers up to his mouth and gave a shrill whistle. A mechanical bird flew down and perched on his outstretched hand. Its head twitched sideways and Chesshire stroked its metallic skull with the back of his index finger. "Hey Tick; I got some news for you."
"Training of course, they have combat and defence classes, and Tick, you won't believe this-"
"What is it?" Tick asked excitedly, hopping up and down on Chesshire's hand.
"They have strategy classes. They're training kids for battle against us!" Chess said in a hushed tone, his remaining eye darting from side to side.
He looked into Tick's solid bright blue eye; his own steely blue reflected in it, the normally slitted pupil was dilated with fear. "Strategy? As in… battle strategy?" Tick said slowly, the shutter flicking closed and reopening (when Chess gave the affirmative, of course) – an act that would seem equivalent to blinking. Tick was, in actuality, registering the new information and engraving it digitally onto his memory plate.
"Excuse me, what are you doing?" came the angry tone of Professor Stanik.
"Nothing sir," Chess said, trying (and failing) not to sound flustered.
"I knew you were trouble the minute you walked in here Chesshire Karitz," Stanik announced, grabbing Chesshire's arm in a vice-like grip similar to a super powered crab and pulling him up from his seat. The professor's right hand shot out and closed around Tick only to let go and be pulled close to his chest with blood dripping from fresh wounds. "No matter, we'll just need to take a little bitty blood test and then you'll be free to go… or not," he added with a dark chuckle.
Stanik proceeded to drag Chess through the hallways of the Academy, passing the terracotta coloured bricks and under varying shades of reds and oranges (and a rare icy blue) of the strange floating lights that seemed so alien to this cliché dungeon-like passage that Chess had to wonder why these people didn't just light torches on the walls like the barbarous humans used to do in their underground tunnels.
Of course people who believe humans should make their own decisions would make such terrible aesthetic choices this thought brought a smile to Chesshire's face even as he was faced with a grim fate; the blood test would surely give away his fine-tuned DNA… he'd just have to hope for the best.
"You'll get your comeuppance yet you conniving little profligate…" said the professor as he clicked the lock of the door open.
Hell if I know what that means you jumped-up human-loving simpleton…