Orion

This is a special passage, which marks the beginning of our quartets (yes, quartets) journey home. its long overdue, but with school, robots, and amazing books., its been kinda hectic. enjoy!

Orion

            Jackson heard the shot, and was up and running toward the bang in a split second. Xenophilius snarled, and swam up river with Jackson. Ian’s Versimilie, who was lying nearby in the form of a tawny cat, suddenly burst into silver blood. When they arrived, they saw blood on the ground, and pools of blood in the water, but no Ian.

            In the meantime, I had awakened inside of a grotto. The water was next to me, sand under me, and the walls were lined with algae.

            “Don’t move” said an unfamiliar voice nearby.

            Farther up the beach was a shark, but it was not Xenophilius. The shark had black eyes and red pupils, and was black in color, as opposed to Xenophilius’s gray and white hue. The shark spoke, not visually, but audibly.

            “Who are you?” I asked nervously

            “I am the shark they call Orion. Your blood drew me, but also prompted me to save you. I know you aren’t from around here.”

            “I know you aren’t from here also” I said, with courage that surprised me.

            Orion’s eyes darkened, and he growled. “Who told you that!?” He snapped, and I was glad I was out of his mouths reach.

            “Why are you ashamed of being from our earth” I asked, cutting straight to the point.

            “I like it better here, and yet I can never become truly from here. I can never be a true Great Black Shark.”

            “What’s so special about this world to that? We can’t even stay in a different world for too long.” I had assumed this last fact, but it seemed right, “If we do, the world rejects us and you die.”

            “You don’t get it!” He shot out, and swam away. I sat up, and noticed my leg was bandaged up from ankle to knee. How the shark bandaged it up was never known, and I didn’t thing it was proper to ask, so I just waited for Orion to return.

            I couldn’t swim away, because of my leg, so I ventured to call out “Xenophilius!”

*          *          *

            Xenophilius was tracking the scent of Ian’s wound. Jackson was swimming next to him, his Versimilie a Bluegill, and he was worried. Who had take Ian? He thought. Why?

            Xenophilius then heard Ian calling. He perked up, turned 360 degrees, and was off like a shot toward the voice. Ian didn’t hear it, of course, but Xenophilius did, and he was zigzagging between rocks.

*          *          *

            Orion returned shortly after. He was carrying with him a great bunch of black algae-looking sheets, and commanded me in a sharp voice to rip a piece off and wipe the blood. I did, and tried to make conversation.

            “What is this stuff” I asked, indicating the algae.

            “Cuttleweed” The shark snapped, and said no more.

I decided not to say anymore. The algae cut like rope burn when I first applied it, then soother the pain, then got cold. It was as if someone stuck my leg into a pot of liquid nitrogen (or so I thought…I was never very good with chemistry). I tried to talk some more to the mysterious black-eyed shark, but he only growled sharp and vague answers. I finally snapped.

“Why don’t you actually try to have a conversation!” I angrily asked

Orion looked at me, his eyes burning. “Don’t talk to me like that, you little weakling! You see these teeth? I can bite with 1.8 tons of force, so if you want to fight, have at me!” He snarled

“If you wanted to eat me, you already would have!” I retorted “I was asleep for God knows how long! Talk about weak!”

I felt satisfied with my retort, but I was nervous. Those teeth looked awfully pointy…or were they? I looked closer, and was surprised to notice how surprisingly dull they looked. That couldn’t be right…sharks had pointy teeth, did they not? But I could clearly see the rounded teeth, which looked much large tombstones rather than large spikes. I remembered how Jackson told me how Xenophilius grabbed him with his teeth, and cursed myself for not wondering why his teeth didn’t puncture anything

“Well then, you should have no problem fighting me, since I’m such a weakling!” The shark said, challengingly.

The blunted teeth gave me courage. Stupid, stupid courage. It would get me killed one day.

“Well, if you’re so tough, how come your teeth are all blunted?” I asked, and felt a glimmer of satisfaction. I was sure I could out-insult a shark. But instead of lunging at me and ripping my arms out, He was…laughing? Sure enough; that low, gravely screech that Xenophilius made was being made by this tough shark.

“I always like a man with a sense of pride” The shark told me, with softer eyes, “And always willing to fight. I could get to like you”

Of course, I wasn’t the fighting type. I was just bedraggled, unshaved, and rather sleepy. I was a businessman, not a boxer. A pencil pusher, not a punching puncher. Not a fighter, is what I am trying to say (And I really stink at making up puns). But as long as I wasn’t going to be mauled, I ventured to ask some questions

“How come you can talk” I asked hesitantly

It was a while before he said anything. I don’t know what goes on in a sharks mind. Before this, I wouldn’t have thought of it, or if I did, it probably would’ve been about blood or fish. But, this seemed an intelligent, or rather a smart, shark, and I was sure he had other things on his mind. Maybe he was remembering the training he had to go through to, or maybe he even had a family, with a shark pup or something (I didn’t know if sharks had families…I assume they do). But after awhile, he told me his story.

He hadn’t come from the Academy, like Xenophilius, but from another academy. They put him through rigorous tests, shocking him and testing his speed, agility, and endurance. They shocked him, and they inadvertently given the power of speech to poor Orion. Orion said that it was the shocks that did it, and they warped his larynx. He didn’t really know, but his time there sounded terrible. I felt rather bad for the coal black shark, and wanted to comfort him, if I knew how (do you pat them on the back? I’m sure you don’t hug them). He swam there, sucked into his own misery, and I thought about what me and Jackson had been through

Where was Jackson? It seemed like forever since I lay eyes on the poor fellow. Was he getting along okay? I hoped Xenophilius was okay, and I realized I never knew his story. I planned on asking him sometime. Speak of the devil…

*          *          *

Xenophilius told Jackson that they were close. It was night by this time, and the trail of blood was ever faint. Jackson couldn’t see anything, his fingers were pruny, and He had no idea where he was going. Even Xenophilius had trouble keeping on the trail, but it was strong, like whiskey.

As they swam, Jackson nearly bashed his head on a rock. There was no blood, but when they looked ahead (Jackson needed help…his Versimilie changed into an owl to help), they saw a huge grotto. It was rather menacing, and they hesitated to go in. Xenophilius indicated toward the cave with his head, and they swam cautiously inside. And what they found was…

sorry to leave you hanging, but you need an incentive! Bye!

Nobody’s

This part was the absolute hardest to name. I was originally going to include a part with…Oh wait, its a secret! I finally settled on Nobody’s which means that they are posessed by no one anymore. If you have any ideas, don’t hesitate to comment! Here it is:

Nobody’s

“So, how are we getting out of here? And why aren’t there any doors into this room?” I asked

“Xenophilius said that the door appears in different places when you open it. And they don’t want their cross-dimensional traveler to go on a whim.”

I gasped “They know about us? Oh, great, this is perfect. Now we’ll be on the run with a freaking shark!”

I am RIGHT HERE, in case you didn’t notice. He muttered some profanity, while I ignored him

“We have to break Xenophilius out too” Jackson added

“How are we going to do that?” I asked “A sharks a hard thing to just sneak out”

All you need to do is take this accursed thing off my tail. Me and Jackson think that he can break it with his hands

“Why can’t you break it? If Jackson can, I’m sure you could” I was much more comfortable talking to the shark than before.

I would, but I just can’t reach it! He curled up like a dog and, try as he might, couldn’t bite the device at his tail.

We think that Jackson can break it because the collar can be broken by nothing in the world. (He actually underlined the words) Since it was manufactured in the Literal Room, as you said, it can be broken from something not in the world, AKA you.

“Oh, I get it…sneaky sneaky!” I said excitedly.

“But we don’t know how to get out. You can only see the door when someone walks in” Jackson explained to me

I thought about this. I realized something, and excitedly said “I know! Come with me!”

We walked back to where I appeared. Sure enough, a little black dot from the wormhole was still there. It was up on the ceiling.

“If we can get up there, we can escape!”

“How can we both get up there?” Jackson asked

“Just get up on my shoulders, and touch the hole!” I ordered

He was much heavier than I thought, and after much swaying we steadied up

“I’m sorry, Xenophilius, I have to be right back, but I promise I’ll come back”

Room 126 Xenophilius yelled (somehow), and Jackson and I were squeezed into pencils and shot through the hole.

About three-quarters of the way through, we hit a dead end. We slammed into nothing, and could simply go no further.

“Just…Wait” I screeched in a high, not-my voice.

We sat there for roughly 5 minutes. It was incredibly frightening, and I had almost given up hope on the men in their various prepositions when the nothing was cleared, and we shot with incredible velocity through the rest of the tube and out into the Literal Room.

The man on the left and the man on the right stood there with the jar of worms, looking nervous

“We were afraid we would be too late” The man 0n the right said

“But, then again, we knew we would make it” The man on the left sa1d

“Who are these men, and how did they know we were trapped” Jackson demanded

“No time to explain!” I said, and turned to get out.

“Wait, we want to give you something” The man 0n the right said

“We think you might need these” The man on the left sa1d

He tossed us two mouthpieces, they looked like mouth guards that football players where, but there were two small bubbles on each side

“These are for you plan” The man 0n the right said, and winked

“They let you breathe underwater” The men on the left sa1d “make sure you replace the carbon filters every 2 months”

“Thanks!” I said, and I put them in my pocket. We then dashed through into the room with the big apparatus.

“Wait!” I said. We stopped, and I walked over to the computer. The blog was still on the screen. I pushed the old Mac over, and smashed the screen. I took my Versimilie, who had been following quietly and was now a sledgehammer, and slammed it three times into the computer. Jackson could only watch in horror, and the two men came rushing in at the sound, though not alarmed.

“That’s so you stop watching us, you creeps” I said, and we ran through the door leading into the hallway. We ran past the cute secretary, and paused only to find the Helper Animals department. We left the building, took a left, and ran pasted many astounded scholars as we pushed for the building.

When we entered the brick building, we were surprised to find, instead of a hallway, 2 doors. Neither was Room 126, which was the one we were looking for, but room 1 and room 0.

Jackson cursed, something I wasn’t expecting he would do, and explained, “It’s binary. What’s binary for 126?”

“I don’t even know what binary is!”

“It’s a way of representing numbers using 1s and 0s. So, binary for 128 is 00000001, and its two less than that. 1 less, or 127, would be 1111111, so 126 would be 0111111. So we need to go into that room” He pointed at room 0.

Jackson was correct in assuming that the room numbers were in binary, as the next room was the same as the first. They went through room 1 six times, and found themselves on a set of four steps. Below them was a pool, where sharks were swimming. Across and under the water, they could just make out Jackson’s room. Xenophilius swam up to them, and they put in the mouthpieces and jumped in, fully clothed.

Thank god you’re here! I thought you would leave me

“Would we leave a fellow outsider?” Jackson asked the shark. I smiled nervously, because being next to a death machine was different than being separated by a thick glass wall, even if the death machine seemed nice enough.

Ok, can you take of this darned device? I ache to be free again!

Jackson swam up to the shark. He showed no fear as he paddled to the blinking restraint. Jackson grasped it with two hands, and ripped the restraint like you would rip a piece of paper. The device sank down to the pool

We have 5 minutes before they close off the river. Hold on tight!

Jackson said he had ridden a dolphin before, while on vacation, but I had no experience with such a strange experience. I nearly lost my grip once or twice. We dove deeper and deeper, until a current pushed us sideways

We just hit the river itself. It flows underground here Xenophilius explained. You can let go if you want. We’ll end up at the same place either way.

I let go, but Jackson continued to cling to the slippery fin. He let out a shout of pleasure (and nearly lost his mouthpiece) and Xenophilius responded with his gravelly shark laugh.

I couldn’t tell how fast the river flowed, but it felt tremendously fast. Up ahead, we saw daylight, along with two dark shapes closing it off. Xenophilius swam faster, and I pushed feebly. Jackson and Xenophilius shot through the gap like a bullet, but then the gates slammed shut

The river slowed instantly. It was much more manageable to swim in now, and I could focus on the problem at hand. I couldn’t punch, because the water made my movements slow and powerless. But I remembered Jackson ripping the restraint off with ease, and I punched it anyway. It was more powerful than I thought it would be, and it left a clear hole in the door. I put my hands through the door and grabbed the metal. When I pulled, it creaked and groaned and screeched. I pulled myself through, cutting myself on the metal shards, and swam toward the concerned pair waiting outside the gate.

Ok, we’re out of the Academy, but we can still be chased. We need to get out of our zone. I have contacts with a shark who calls himself Orpheus, who I think can help us.

“How did you meet him?” Jackson inquired

He was the other shark who swam with me into the rip in the ocean.

“Do you know where he lives?” Jackson pressed further

Not far from here, but I think Orpheus would like to come to. And two sharks are better than one.

“Ok, we can go see this Orpheus guy” I decided, “But can we rest first? We’ve done a lot of running about, and I’m tired”

“Oh please, Ian, can we go meet the other shark? I want to meet him!” Jackson pleaded

“Tell me, your not exhausted?”

“No!” Jackson was silent “Ok, maybe we should rest a little. Is that OK?”

I don’t like it, but it can’t be helped. I’m going to go try hunting for a fish. Wish me luck!

“Good luck!” Both of us said to the shark

Jackson and I swam up to the surface. We climbed onto the shore, and lay there as the sun dried our clothes.

“I hope he catches a fish” Jackson broke the silence

“I’m sure he will. He’s a shark, he has instinct, right?”

“I don’t know, he’s so out of his element. They gave him dead fish at the Academy, and all he had to do was eat it.”

I dozed off for a couple of hours. When Xenophilius came back, he was sad because he couldn’t catch a fish. “A shark that can’t catch a fish! Now I’ve seen everything!” I thought. Actually, a fish wouldn’t be too bad. I volunteered to go fishing, because I felt Jackson and Xenophilius were doing all the work, and I was just the sitting duck. I walked a little way down the river, and sat down there.

 I formed a crude fishing rod out of a stick and a strand of ivy. After a few minutes of nothing, I heard a rustle behind me. I got up and spun around. Behind me was a man with a pistol, which was pointed at me.

“Come with me” Said the gun holder, “And bring your friend too”

I froze up. No one had ever pointed a gun at me before, and all I could do was nothing at all.

“Move!” The man shouted, he fired a shot into the air.

I picked a bad time to play the hero. As I started to run to tackle the man, he raised his gun and shot me in the leg. I screamed, and fell backwards into the water.

I landed on my back, and floated upside down. I started taking in water, and blood drenched from the gunshot wound in my leg. The water was red, and I began to sink. Down I went, and I noticed a dark shape in front of me. “Xenophilius is here!” I thought happily, and I fainted. 

McGregor Academy

This is quite possibly the longesst post ever written by me. Each chapter is 4 pages, compared to the usual 1 page.To give me time to write the O chapter, I will simply post the M chapter.

I loved writing this part, where Ian meets Xenophilius. It was hard to imagine what a buisnessman would do when meeting a talking shark, but I think I did a good job. Here it is, in all of its goodness (I’m so humble!)

McGregor

McGregor Academy, which was indeed the name of where I (Ian) was, had twenty buildings. I was in the Versology department, located near the bottom left of the campus. The other buildings included the Animal Helpers Ward, Helper Animals Ward, and the Society of Multiversal Traveling. The last one was the most interesting, So I decided to walk over there and casually talk about Multiverse traveling. Maybe they had something to get Jackson and I home.

The building wasn’t too far, about ½ of a mile to the northwest. It was the easiest building to find, because it was huge, and blue, and said SMT in giant letters on the roof. I went into the double spinning door.

The building’s interior, to say the least, was awe-inspiring, confusing, and made me get a headache. Equations were printed on the walls of a long hallway. At the end was a great big orb, in which sat a round secretaries desk. The woman behind it had brown hair, and smiled a little at me before answering the phone.

Off the hub were 3 more hallways, not including the one I came from, and I went down the one leading to the largest orb.

The hallway was lined with portraits of people, ranging from old men with scraggly beards to young men with scraggly mustaches. At the end, just before the final door, was a picture of me. I did a double take, and made sure it was really me. Same hair, same eyes…It must have been me. And on the other side was Jackson! I rubbed my head, and walked through the door.

The room was enormous. In the center dominated a great hulk of metal and gears. Sprouting from the top was a large tower, much like a radio tower. The machine was humming slightly. On the floor was a wire that stretched from the apparatus to a computer, which to my surprise was a Mac from the 1990s. Two men were looking at the screen intently, and turned around to look at me before I could close the door. Coincidently, their names were Evan and Charles.

“Welcome Ian, to our laboratory. We’ve been expecting you.” The man on the right said.

“How did you know I was here? Cameras? Did the secretary tell you?” I was suspicious, because I didn’t know these people.

“None of those, but we knew because of this” The man on the left pointed to the computer.

I walked over to see the screen. What I saw was a simple web page, a blog by the looks of it. There was a white dragon at the top, along with the name RAWAGAL on the top.

Below it was a post, entitled McGregor Academy. On it was a story. I read: “McGregor Academy, which was indeed the name of where I (Ian) was, had twenty buildings. I was in the Versology department, located near the bottom left of the campus. The other buildings included the Animal Helpers Ward, Helper Animals Ward, and the Society of Multiversal Traveling. The last one was the most interesting…”

“How did you get that?” I demanded

“From that” The man on the right pointed to the mass of metal in the room.

“What is it?” I asked. These men were really vague! I thought

“It’s a Cross-Dimensional Digital Receiver, or CDDR. Basically, it can receive digital signals from other worlds and show them here.” The man on the left said.

“But how does it know what I’m doing?” I asked

“Someone is writing it, and he or she doesn’t know he or she is writing what’s actually happening.” The man on the right said

“How do you know the story is true?” I asked. Surely not all aspects of the story were right!

“It told us something no one else knows” The man on the left said, “Our names”.

“No one knows your names?” I asked

“No one” The man on the right said.

“Why doesn’t anyone know?” I asked the identity-less men.

“It’s important to keep an aura of mystery about ourselves” The man on the left said.

“Well that’s just dumb” I concluded, “and is there a reason you alternate speaking?”

“We don’t always alternate” The man on the left said.

“We could talk in any pattern we want” The man on the right said.

“But why talk in any pattern?” I asked.

“Without numbers, everything is chaos” The man on the right said.

“Enough chit-chat, or the post will become too long. We know why you’re here, and we can help you get back to your friend” said the man on the left.

 Then the men brought me to a side room, which they introduced as the Literal Room. A supercomputer muttered to itself along one wall, and another door led off from my right.

“This room, found by a computer bug, takes everything at face value. It’s only input is the user’s Versimilies, and a physical object to be taken literally” The man on the left said.

“What would you keep this room for? What is its purpose?”

“We can simply take any objects, like the restraining devices on our helper animals or our shirts, and make them indestructible” the man on the right said

“It’s incredibly useful. We would give you a copy of the program to take home, but we lost the program for everything we made. We need to teach you about something vital” the man on the left said.

“You are, I assume, familiar with the concept of wormholes?” The man on the right said.

“No idea. Wait…wasn’t there an artist with that name?” I asked, “Painted Marilyn Monroe and soup cans and stuff?”

“Space can be folded up, like a piece of paper” The man on the right said, without listening to me, “And if you spear a hole into the folds, you get a hole in space were you can travel between the folds faster”

“And what does this have to do with me?” I asked the guy

He motioned for the man on the left to get something. He went into the door on my right and brought out a jar. In the jar were worms, and I had a feeling I knew what would happen next.

“Put your Versimilie over there” said the man on the left, “In ball form would be best”

I complied, and the man pulled a worm out of the jar and put it on the ground.

“Concentrate on wormholes, now” The man on the left said.

I did, and the worm began to push the dirt away. It took about thirty minutes to get the worm to make a solid hole about an inch tall. The men nodded, and told me to go into the wormhole.

“How can I fit in there? It’s barely tall enough for my pinky to fit!” To demonstrate, I stuck my pinky into the hole.

I knew it worked when I felt my mass squeezed into a pencil. Every single space in between every single atom was filled in, and every atom was jammed against another. I vomited once or twice, and I once thought I saw my lungs fly by.

The kids always ask me what it was like to be in a wormhole. They say “Dad, what was it like to be jammed into a pencil?” And all I can say is “Surreal. If you get a chance to look around, all you see is 5 sided cubes and melted clocks, along with a lot of other impossible-ish stuff.

When I popped up, I was standing there in Jackson’s room. There was Jackson, sitting against a clear glass tank filled with sharks. He looked up and jumped when he saw me. He then smiled, waved, and beckoned me over. I walked over, and noticed how the room had no doors. It was unnerving to be trapped, but there must be a way in and out, somewhere. I reached Jackson.

“I want you to meet someone!” He said, sounding genuinely excited.

“Who?” I asked. Who could I meet in a room with no door?

“Xenophilius! But he’s not here now, he’s on patrol. But he’ll be back soon, I think. There’s no clock around here.”

Keep in mind; I didn’t know Xenophilius was a shark, especially an otherworldly shark. So when I saw Jackson greet a shark with dark blue eyes, I thought he had gone on the loony train. But when it spoke to me, I jumped. I use the term “spoke” loosely, because I saw the words instead of heard them.

Hello, I hear you’re a friend of Jackson The supposed Xenophilius “spoke”

“Um, yeah…He…llo?” It was extremely strange to talk to a shark, and when I felt the glass to make sure it was thick, I relaxed.

“He won’t eat you” Jackson said, quietly

The sharp teeth distracted me, and I pictured my body impaled on them.

Hey, Hey, Jackson said you’d help me get free. Will you?

“Yeah, sure… Wait, how do you know he won’t eat us? Sharks are probably very clever.” I pointed out.

Thank You!

“He didn’t eat me!” Jackson retorted to me.

Then he told me what had happened. He finished up by telling us that Xenophilius needed to go home. I thought about taking a shark with us, and suddenly realized a problem.

“If the rip is in the sky, how are we going to get a water-breathing shark up there? We can’t exactly take him with us on the plane”.

“He says he swam through a rip in the ocean, so maybe there are more we can find” Jackson explained.

“That might be even harder than finding a rip in the sky!”

“But now we have Xenophilius! And he’ll stay true to his word, I can just tell”

Ian I turned the ignored shark I promise I will help you find your way back, and I promise not to eat you

Between Jackson and Xenophilius looking at me pleadingly (or hungrily, I couldn’t tell), and my desire to get home, I felt like a terrible ass (to be quite blunt). I looked back and forth between the two outsiders, just like me, an outsider. I then agreed to go.

A not-so-great risk

I’ve begun adopting actual titles for my chapters instead of roman numberals. You also may have noticed I haven’t posted in about a kajillion years. Thats because we have been moving a bunch, and just today we got internet! So, I’ve been writing up a storm and decided to post 2 chapters! YAY! here they are!

Killed, Nearly

            “He’s awake!” One of the men shouted. They seemed nervous.

            I was on a sort of gurney, in a white room much like a hospital. In fact, it probably was in a hospital, but I had no idea why I would be in a hospital. My arms and legs didn’t hurt; I had no cuts or limbs missing.

But breathing seemed really hard. It was a draining effort to simply exercise my diaphragm to intake air. It was as if a hole was letting all the air out as I breathed. I felt extremely close to choking from lack of air, and when I asked the men a question my voice sounded all raspy and low.

“Wh…wh…whats…happening?” I made out in a gravely voice

“You nearly used up all of your Versimilies energy stores” A man said. He looked like a surgeon.

“Is…that…bad?” I sounded out.

“Yes! Your Versimilies energy store is nearly depleted, and if it goes out your brain will lose nearly all function.” The man looked nervous

“Oh…yes…that…would…be…bad” I said, as agitated as a man can sound with a gravely voice, “How does it look like?”

“It doesn’t look good”, the doctor said, “This might be your last conversation. But we have hope, now that you’ve woken up. See, the energy shot can only be administered when the Versimilie is in the form of the Master’s truest form. In other words, it has to be in the form which is your most dear and precious thought”

I considered this. On one hand, all I had to do was think about my most dear thought. Then they could administer the shot, and I would save my brain. On the other hand, I would be disclosing these men my innermost secret. That would be incredibly embarrassing, rather scary, and I didn’t know if it was even the right secret. For I had an inkling of what form it would be. But was it worth my life? I didn’t think so. These men probably knew many, many dark secrets of people, and they seemed like good-natured people.

So I thought of my deepest secret. When I looked over and saw it there, right in front of me, I felt intense embarrassment. These people shouldn’t know this. I thought about throwing off the whole thing.

The doctors didn’t seem to notice its specific form. They simply stuck a thick needle filled with bright green fluid into it. I felt a small prick in my heart, as if the needle penetrated my ventricles, and then my breathing became steadier and less painful. But a dull pain continued in my lungs, and I suspected I would have an internal bruise there until my burial.

The doctors left and we were alone. I beheld my deep secret in its true form, and it made me cry. I was filled with longing, with pleasure, with sadness, with love, with hate, with curiosity, with wisdom, with knowing, with truthfulness, with lies, with hot, with cold, with lukewarm, and with magnetism. It was wonderful.

In that single moment, I became a changed man. As I beheld and accepted my deep secret, I knew that I would have to leave. I knew I couldn’t stay, because I had to pursue my dreams on our other earth. Even if it meant losing my Versimilie, I would go back, because I knew that I couldn’t lose my Versimilie. It was always there, and I needed to see it to know it was there.

I’m not telling you what I saw that day. It was one thing to show the doctors, but another thing to show it to my readers. It’s my duty to take you along on the same journey as I did, but you have to have your own personal experiences on a journey. It’s what will give this story variety.

I wouldn’t be surprised if you simply closed the page right now. I’m fine with that, because I want only my true readers to continue on. It will be my true readers who accept their deepest secret, and it will be my true readers who discover their own Versimilies.

I presently grew curious about my surroundings, and the hospital in which I was housed. I got up, bid my Versimilie to come with me (and change its form), and went to the door. I opened the door, and walked outside.

Leaving

Jackson’s story continued after he woke up. When he woke up, he was still damp and dripping, and was laying in a bed much like mine. His hand was all stitched up and wrapped in thick gauze. It was like wearing an oven mitt that you can’t take off. He was also wearing a sort of neck-cast for his spine. Jackson insisted he continue the chronicle (I expect he wants to be a writer when he gets older), and for the sake of continuing in first person, I hereby let him write this chapter:

I lay there, staring at the ceiling. Was it a dream? Would a shark really try to help me? But then again, I had read enough books to suspect that it wasn’t a dream. Too many times had something peculiar happened and that person thought it was a dream. I decided to go against the tradition and accept what happened. But what happened? It was all hazy.

I sat up in my bed, and looked around. One wall was made of glass, the other three was a rather normal material, and none of them had a door. I focused on the glass one, which had sharks swimming around on it. I got up slowly and walked to the tank.

It was incredibly large, and the top went on about 20 feet from my head. I put my hands on the glass and pressed my nose up close. I was looking for Xenophilius. I didn’t even know if he was there, but it wouldn’t hurt to look.

All the sharks looked the same, except for their eyes. There were green eyes and black eyes and red eyes and silver eyes and yellow eyes, eyes that had patterns and eyes that had no whites. But I didn’t see any piercing blue eyes, like Xenophilius’s. I grew sad, because I wanted to see him again, and thank him for bringing me to a hospital instead of eating me. That seemed awful nice for a shark.

Then, in a sudden flurry, a shark popped up from below the glass and growled at me. I jumped back about 2 feet, and met the piercing blue eyes. I laughed, and Xenophilius laughed too. It was a strange, gurgly laugh. A sort of screechy, quiet roar.

I breathed on the glass, and wrote IH in the glass.

Hi He said. The words were blurrier when they were above the water. I assumed you can only see them well in water.

I giggled, and said “Thanks for not eating me!”

I wouldn’t dream of eating you. I’d prefer a nice fish.

“You wouldn’t eat me? I just thought you liked me” I said, glumly

No no no, I like you. You seem nice, and I think you can help me.

“You think I can help you? How?”

I know your blood. I know your not from here

“How do you know? Did you tell anyone?” I asked nervously, expecting people to come in the door with probes and machines to examine the weird other-universe-man

Course I didn’t! I need to go back too.

“Go back? Like, you’re not from here too?”

It’s a long story, but I want to go home. It’s so strange here. The water tastes weird.

“Well, seeing as we’re not going anywhere, maybe you can tell me what happened”

In a nutshell, me and another shark swam through a window and didn’t realize it. We were very small, and these men caught us. They trained us not to eat people, but to save them. The other shark escaped some time ago. While we are treated nicely here, I hate being controlled. See, the program takes animals and uses their talents to benefit people. Since sharks can smell blood really well, they train us to find injured people in water. The same thing is happening over in the next room, where they have cheetahs catching criminals and monkeys writing novels.

“That’s not a bad idea, actually. But where did you learn to speak?”

They taught me. They implant these genes in our blood that give us the ability to speak in visible words.

“So when you go back, will you still remember how to talk?”

I think so. It’s in my blood, and things don’t change just because I changed surroundings

“I hope so, because it would be bad to be eaten just as we got back. But why do you need me?”

I can’t leave of my own free will. See? He turned around, and I noticed a small device at the thinnest part of his tail. He turned back around to face me, if I leave a predetermined area, that device will immobilize my tail and I won’t get any oxygen.

“How is it attached?”

It’s attached by a special chain, that can’t be unlocked by anything in the world except a key

“Does this mean I need to steal something? I have an incredibly guilty conscious, and stealing things prompts my subconscious to pipe up.

I don’t see any other way.

But I did, and you probably did too. Xenophilius realized it too, and smiled a pointy, incredibly deadly grin. We would break him out without the key, because we didn’t need the key to unlock the device. I had something that could snap it easily.

 

I hope you don’t find it too confusing switching narrators. It will stop after the next chapter

A great risk

Its been awhile, and Im soory I havent written. I just snagged some time on the computer and wanted to let you down off this cliffhanger. This is called “Icy” and “Jackson”. Here it is!

IX

            When your body knows cold, it doesn’t exactly realize it until a little bit later. For Jackson and I, it took roughly 30 seconds to realize that we weren’t actually in a hot tub, but rather a cold river underneath a bridge. When we passed that stage, we felt extreme cold and extreme fright.

            Bridges aren’t meant to be on water, theyre bulky, heavy, made of steel, and have bird poop on them. So when a bridge actually is on water, it sinks. This is bad, because we were under a sinking bridge about to get crushed into 4 tiny pancakes.

            I was in my own little world at that point, and I could think of nothing else but to escape. Its hard to think straight when a hundred-ton bridge is pressing on you. I was extremely disoriented, and I couldn’t remember which way I should swim. I just swam in a direction, and hit a most peculiar thing.

            As all scientists know, air can’t just disappear into, pardon my pun, thin air, and must go somewhere. When air pushes against water, air usually wins, which is why you can stick a cup upside down into water and see no water inside it. I hit one of these air pockets just then.

            I swam in from the side, and to my great surprise I began to fall. This was the peculiar bit, because usually you don’t get to fall in water. But I did, and belly flopped into the bottom of the bubble. When I swam back to the bubble, I pushed my head through and sucked in the oxygen greedily. I wouldn’t die then, and I was bubbling up with Impression. I felt giddy and chronic happiness, and I felt I could embrace the world around me. I could hug the bridge, hug the handrail, hug the ground. But the ground hugged me before I got a chance, and my nice bubble popped as the steel girders below me gave way. The tarmac pushed me into the ground.

            I wasn’t crushed. The handrails saved me from losing 200 lbs then and there, but I was jammed in between a boulder and the tarmac. Talk about being stuck between a rock and a hard place, I mused, and then I began to wriggle.

            The water was murky, and I couldn’t see anything. All I could think about was pushing my body forward to get out of the bridge. I pushed and pushed, and my lungs filled with the brown water and carbon dioxide. I remembered how people die of carbon dioxide poisoning faster than a lack of oxygen.

            O, how I wished to be back in my air bubble! My lungs felt stretched out, like someone had pumped me up with air and wouldn’t stop. Lying there, under the heavy tar of the bridge, I couldn’t breathe. I called out with my mind. Help! I screamed in my head I’m dying! No one could help me. I was dead as a doornail. Peculiar phrase, I thought. What was a doornail anyway? How does it differ from a regular nail?

            I was still under the bridge when a sudden shot of air entered my stretched-out lungs. I relished that shot of air, almost as one relished a delicious dinner, and I tried to save it until it was absolutely necessary. But when I felt more come in, I sucked it up like Jello.

            The air didn’t come from a bubble, or a scuba tank, or even from my mouth and nose, but from my heart. My diaphragm wasn’t even moving, yet air came and fed my hungry nerves and cells. I realized it was from the Versimilie, who must have been above the water. My heart buh-bumping, I pushed myself out of the bridge, and swam up to the surface. I was alive.

            When I poked my head out of the water, The air felt extremely warm. It felt like a warm shower, and newly refreshed, I swam toward the shoreline.

            One half-mile left and I couldn’t swim another stroke. I stopped, and just hung there in the water. Exercise was never required of a businessman like me, and I felt like a limp toy a dog shook the stuffing out of.

            When you lose consciousness, some say you simply black out. Others say you go through a grey tunnel that gets smaller and smaller. I myself felt my pupils expand to their limit, and the world was enveloped in bright white light. Somewhere nearby, a small, bruised dog lay in the dirt. The dog yelped suddenly, turned from tawny brown to silver white, and lost consciousness with me.

            I don’t remember what unconsciousness felt like. My kids always ask me that when I tell this story. “What did it feel like?” They ask, their cheerful faces looking at me inquisitively. Sometimes I tell them it is warm, and you feel comfortable and safe, like when you have a big, fluffy blanket on and a book in your hands. But other times it feels more cold and dangerous, like a dark winter forest in Svalbard, if there were forests in Svalbard.

            When I woke up, I was cold, and it was dark, and the men looking at me funny weren’t exactly making me feel safe either.

X

            I didn’t know what happened to Jackson at the time. We had been separated after the fall, and I hadn’t seen him when I came up. He told me his story later, and I’m retelling it for clarity, and because you’re probably burning with curiosity about his adventure. Here it is, in his writing:

            At the fateful moment when the bridge snapped, I had almost made it to the top. I heard police sirens and emergency vehicles screaming their sirens. I was putting my hand on the edge of the tarmac when the bridge snapped.

            I tumbled much farther than Ian did, and the impact of the water almost killed me. When I hit the water, the impact cracked my spine near the nape. Never before was I in such extreme pain, and in freezing water and my hands were bleeding didn’t help. Metal had embedded itself nearly ½ inch into my palm. It was gruesome, and I was afraid if I should pull it out or leave it in. Blood was trickling around the edges, and I watched the blood float gently up, like a red ribbon in the breeze.

            Moving hurt. I couldn’t swim with the metal shrapnel in my hand, and my spine hurt. I tried kicking, albeit feebly, and made little headway. I stopped, and closed my eyes. I felt comfortable, and I felt that someone would help me. I didn’t even have air to breathe anymore, but I was still alive.

            Here is where it gets weird: While in my semi-sleep state, I felt a gentle grip on my torso. Someone had made it! I thought, Thank goodness! I’m sure I wouldn’t have felt the same way if I had known what got me. And sure enough, when I opened my eyes, I was staring into the dark blue eyes of a shark.

            My eyes met it’s, and I felt a mix of emotions. The first was, of course, fear. I was afraid this shark would eat me, or maul me, or rip off one of my limbs. I was not a stranger to shark documentaries, and I knew how they killed. I also knew how to deter one. You have to stick your fingers into its gills, or punch it in the nose. I went to do that, but my arms were pinned between the extremely powerful jobs.

            The second emotion I felt was curiosity. Why had this shark not eaten me? Why was it just carrying me around like a toy? I also speculated if, since this was a different world, the sharks were nice. Maybe they could talk? I thought that it wouldn’t hurt to try it, because if it worked I would get some answers, and if it didn’t the shark wouldn’t tell anyone. But what should I say? I swallowed.

            “Um…are you going to eat me?” I ventured. I honestly felt extremely silly

            The response wasn’t verbal, or mental, or even supernatural, but physical. In front of my eyes was one word: No

            “Then why am I in your mouth?” I asked. I still felt silly

            I’m trying to help you

            “Ok…”

            The third emotion I felt was extreme pleasure. This shark seemed nice enough, and obviously wasn’t interested in ingesting me. I couldn’t help but think: A real shark! And it’s helping me! I felt special, and I felt…there is no word for the glee that bubbled up.

            “Do you have a name?”

            No

            “Why not?”

            I have no need for a name

            “Can I give you one?”

            Why would name a death machine such as myself?

            “You don’t seem very deadly. And it seems fitting that such a nice shark should get a name”

            No, I am really mean. See? It growled. It reverberated in the water around me, a strange sound coming from a shark. I didn’t know a shark could growl, and I’m pretty sure it can’t (At least, not on our earth)

            “…Xenophilius” I decided.

            Didn’t I scare you?

            “No, but that was really cool”

            Grr It growled No more talking now.

            It bit me a little harder, and I felt sleepy. I could barely ask:

            “Wha…what?”

            Shh. I’ve simply given you a little dose of sleep aid.

            “Huh…how?”

            But I fell asleep, and hung limp in the sharks jaw as he swam upriver.

 

That’s all Jackson remembered before he got to the academy. But what happens after will come, in due course. 

Apparel saved me

Edit: Happy 50th Post!

Ok, so gruesome story today. So today we were driving up to our new house to work on it, and when we arrived my mom told me to take some boxes to the shed. I took a brick, a pole, and a something else to the shed. Next I decided to tackle a great big box, about 4 ft. tall, full of carpet tacks. It was extremely hard, because I had no grip on it, and I found it easiest to grab the bottom edge with one hand and the other on the opposite upper corner. I was up to the shed when I dropped it, and a stabbing pain sliced my belly. I have to admit, I cursed a lot and threw the box in the shed. It wasn’t bad, but just above my abdomen and below my torso was a 3-4 inch horizontal slice. I have to empasize that I wasn’t bleeding. But it was a screw that did that, and ripped through two layers of clothes. It could’ve been alot worse. The only bad part is that I cant bend over sideways without getting quite a pain. And to top it off, I’ve also gotten my finger nearly chopped off from sheet metal, another finger scratched by the claw of a hammer, and my middle finger tip sanded off. I think the house doesn’t like me.

Words Words Words

The 8th part, the one you’ve all been waiting for, is called “Hit” and leaves you with a nice cliffhanger. Enjoy!

VIII

It did. Just before we reached the South Florida border, we were kicked out of our cab because we couldn’t pay the tool fee. The driver sped off, leaving the four of us just standing on the side of the road, unable to cross the bridge by car. We began walking.

The river about 2 miles from shore to shore. The bridge was out in the middle of the water, and looked rather dinky compared to the wide waters. It was white, and was made of an assortment of steel girders in such a mess it looked more like a white, metal knot, rather than a bridge spanning a grand river. A plain road led to it, sloping upward to meet with the white bridge, and another road sloped back down from the other side. Near the end, the road took a wide right turn into the hilly South Florida.

It was cold. The chilly air struck them the very instant they got out of the cab, and they weren’t wearing anything but T-shirts and shorts. Their versimilies were white with cold, and mine was shaped like a snowflake.

Two miles is long. You, reading this book, just keep reading, not feeling any of what we felt and probably not appreciating what we went through. But just imagine cold. There was lots of cold. Don’t forget that two miles is 10, 560 feet, or the same as if you took a 1,056 story building and lay it on the ground. That’s 8 Empire State Buildings on top of each other.

It was cold, and our breath came in ragged spasms as we got to the bridge. I was coughing rather a lot, and I leaned over on the railing and looked down at the water below during one of those coughing fits. A clear, semi-translucent sheet of ice floated underneath us, and some paddleboats chugged underneath the bridge.

We stood there, in the freezing cold air, for about 10 minutes. Our breath was still tired, but we had to go on.

            The bridge itself wasn’t very long, about 500 feet long. While we walked, silence reigned. All we heard was the chugging of boats and the cars slicing the air nearby. There were not very many cars on the bridge, and only three passed us by the time we passed the center of the bridge.

            As we walked, we couldn’t help but notice how rusty the bridge looked. And with that, I’m sure you can deduct what happened next.

            A shriek filled the air, like nails on a blackboard, along with a clang that reminded me of church bells. The initial shriek had made us jump, but nothing happened. I remembered the old video of that bridge swaying around in the wind. What was it called? I couldn’t remember. We walked forward, and when we sunk a little we began to panic.

            Shrieks were loud as sirens, cracks like splitting wood amplified a thousand times ripped the air with its sharpness. Bent metal pierced the ear, and rusty flakes rained on our heads. Asphalt split below them, and metal chips fell from above.

            I didn’t know what to do. I looked both ways, calculating which way to run. Neither seemed a good idea, and jumping didn’t seem to work. Staying still seemed a viable option, and before I could question it I fell.

            The bridge was still attached on the side toward the way they came, but the other was jagged and ripped. The bridge was folding on itself, although very slowly, and I couldn’t get up. I could see Jackson running up the nearly 50 degree incline, and then he tried to scale the sides. The versimilies were in a panic, and they split up into lots of pieces and recombined and changed color. I began sliding, and the asphalt ripped and tore at my clothes and burned my skin. I was near the side of the bridge, and when I came to my senses I grabbed the handrail and stopped.

            The bridge never hit the water. When the tarmac was vertical, it kept swinging. It hung there like an immense white swing, and I began to climb the handrails. It was heavy working, and frightening. Jackson was above me, climbing up the handrails like I was.

            The bridge creaked slightly in the wind. Just when we thought we were going to be OK, the bridge screamed once more and we clung for dear life as the tarmac toppled backwards. The bridge wasn’t the only one who screamed when we were plunged upside-down into the icy water.

Got Allotta Reading, Alright?

Since all of last week I was bombarded with staining and laying tiles at the new house, I have been unable to write. Along with that, NOBODY VOTED! You can read more of the story ONLY if YOU VOTE HERE:

I’ve been reading Inkheart in the meantime while NONE OF YOU VOTED and it honestly is a great book. I won’t write a review, because I can’t write reviews, but if you like fantasy then you’ll go read it. Speaking of reading, I finished Inkheart in 2 days and am now reading Inkspell. Its just as good as the original. Along with Inkspell and Inkdeath I want to read The Jungle Book, The Nameless City, Catching Fire, Dragon Rider, The Thief Lord, The Graveyard Book, and probably a bunch more books…I like books, in case you didn’t know. Bye!

 

Ahh…I wrote a chapter and its an ‘A’ Day!

So I spent all night writing this seventh part (entitled “Google”) and then found out today wasn’t my day to write. Well I’ll share it anyone. But one question…Should I stay of Should I go?

And if you didn’t vote, you are not permitted to read this story…jk

VII

We were on the run for about 15 minutes before we jumped into a dark alley between two triangular buildings. We stuck to the wall, which was angled so nobody could see us by simply looking. We weren’t actually being chased, but we knew we would be soon.

            “What the hell just happened!?” Jackson asked, stupefied

            “I honestly have no idea” I answered

            “Could they figure out that were not from here?” Jackson wondered, but his voice showed his fear.

            “How could they know? We haven’t told anyone” I said, although I had to wonder: did someone overhear us? Was it the ticket counter lady, or the taxi driver? Or maybe it was the girl from Gate 18? Or maybe someone we didn’t meet at all.

            “Anyway, it looks like we’re on the run, and we need to be careful about who we talk to” I continued

            “We need to find someone to help us” Jackson said

            “You have a knack at contradicting things” I said, and he chortled.

            “How are we supposed to find someone to help us? Don’t forget, we’re probably the only people ever to travel outside of our own world.” I continued

            “We’re not the only ones. But I don’t know of any.” He said. I didn’t ask how he knew there were others, but with all this strangeness I didn’t really care.

            “How are we going to find one?” I asked

            He looked at me like I was from another planet

            “You really haven’t grown up in an age of computers, have you?” He asked

            “So you want to do what?”

            “Isn’t it obvious? Google it!” He said, and I rubbed my forehead in annoyance.

            “What are we going to search for? ‘alternate universe traveler’?” I asked angrily

            “Yeah, what’s wrong with that?” Jackson asked

            “Lots of things. For one thing, they might not even have an internet or a Google here. There won’t be any hits at all, probably, and…” I was at a loss for another reason.

            Jackson looked at me, and that was before I notice the Versimilie. Then I learned that lying in this world was a lot harder than normal lying, especially if you’ve only been there for a day. I felt like an ass, and of course my Versimilie reflected my thoughts. Jackson laughed

            “OK let’s go find a computer” I said grumpily, and walked out of the alley. Jackson followed behind me, chuckling all the way.

*          *          *

It was almost 11 o’clock in the morning by the time we finally found an internet café in Dallas. It was only a few blocks from the motel, but in our roundabout wanderings around the triangular city we completely passed it.

It’s not called internet here. Its called intrawebs, which may be interesting to note that most LOLcats in this world call the internet that.

“Looks like Google’s reach has traversed the time-space continuum” I said as the familiar logo showed up.

Jackson typed in “universe travel” into the box and clicked “search”

There were over one million hits, and we spent nearly half an hour sorting through five pages of results, such as theory’s of multiverse travel, books on the subject, and Mybook pages with hundreds of multiverse fans before we finally found a man down in St. Antonio in South Florida who was put in South Florida Asylum for claiming he had been to an alternate universe.

The man’s name was Ivan McGregor. He claimed to have gone to a place where the trees talked after crash-landing during a helicopter ride. He was charged with schizophrenia and brought him to an institution about 5 years ago.

“We need to find this man” Jackson said, “Does the article have a picture of him?”

It did. He was roughly 40 or so and had tan skin and a goatee. His face was scarred and his hair was spiked. I printed it out, folded the picture in half twice and put it in my back pocket.

“How are we going to get to South Florida? It’s almost 300 miles away! And we can’t take another taxi because we don’t have another watch” I exclaimed

I saw Jackson’s look.

“Fine, I’ll give them my phone.” I said reluctantly, “Not like I need one anyway”

“It’s all for a good cause” Jackson told me, “We’re going to get out of here”

I still didn’t want to leave this place. I was growing attached to my Versimilie, and didn’t want to leave it here. I had begun to think of a name for him, but I could think of nothing remotely Versimilish.

We left the intrawebs café, and called a cab to take us over the state line. I could tell this would end bad, But only me and my golden friend knew that.

 

Wild Words

As per the usual, this next part, entitled Ferton Motel, is the 6th part of my even-longer-short story. I’m thinking of submitting my stories to this cell phone short story sharing thingy that my dad showed me and I forgot the link. AKA DAD REMIND ME!. This is the sixth part, and the last part is here

VI

We spent almost the whole day at the triangular library. The sun was very low in the horizon, and since neither of us had watches and our cell phones got no signal we could only guesstimate it was about 5:30 or so.

            I only had about 75 dollars, and Jackson had about 20 dollars, so we had to find a cheap place to stay. We couldn’t take a taxi so we walked around Dallas, and after about 30 minutes we stumbled upon this little motel nestled into a graffiti-covered region in the outskirts of Dallas. The rate was low, I remember, but I can’t remember the exact rate

            The motel was called The Ferton Motel. The lobby walls were covered in a dark wood, which made the room even darker in the failing light. Two dark purple chairs sat in a semicircle behind a table littered with magazines. A beach painting tried to brighten the permanently dark lobby.

            A big man was behind a mahogany desk, with his Versimilies formed as a golden alarm clock. He gave us Room 182, which was down the hall to the right.

            The room, contrasting to the dark lobby, was covered in pink floral wallpaper. There was a window opposite the door, and there were two twin beds, separated by a mahogany nightstand with an incredibly complex digital clock. A wardrobe with an antenna TV was opposite to the beds, and a white chair with green cushions in the corner next to an overhead lamp. A bathroom lay next to the door, with a small shower and a sink, along with a squished toilet crammed in the little space.

            Jackson jumped on the bed nearest the window, and called dibs. I put my luggage next to the bed and I lay down on the white sheets, and for once felt comfortable. My back was aching from being hunched over that book, and my feet popped when I moved them. I closed my eyes and felt at peace. With the warmth of the room around me, and the comforting pillows under my sore neck, I fell asleep immediately

            I had rough dreams that night. I had dreams of being in closed spaces and of holes in the sky. I had some other weird dreams, but I couldn’t remember anything about them. I know they were rough, because in the morning the room was turned over. Jackson lay in his bed (he was a heavy sleeper), but next to him lay the lamp. The alarm clock lay smashed under the window, and one door of the wardrobe was yanked off of its hinges. And amidst it all lay a golden knife, which was recognizable as my Versimilie. I began to quake in anger, as the knife darted under the bed, before I realized it was my fault. It was only performing my thoughts. I summoned it as a bouncy ball, which I then put in my pocket

            Which reminded me that I hadn’t seen my friends Versimilie yet, except for the time at the airport, and I was overcome with a burning curiosity as to where and what it was. Curiosity overcame nervousness as I peaked around the sleeping form to look for it. I didn’t see it. When I lifted up the sheet a little I could see it.

            It was a golden, fiery dragon. It wasn’t larger than a Labrador Retriever, and was curled up in a spiral, with its head resting on its serpentine, wingless body. That was until it woke up and lunged at me

            Jackson woke up, and was furious

            “How could you look at my Versimilie like that? I don’t look at yours, do I? Don’t you have any notion of PRIVACY?!”

            “I’m sorry! I was just curious”

            “Yeah, well curiosity killed the cat, and it might kill you too”

            Those were dark words. He wasn’t lying about this. I stepped back and held my hands up, in a gesture of apology.

            “Don’t tell anybody” He said, and it was then the door was kicked down, and lots of angry men ran into the room.

            I didn’t think, nobody thinks in this kind of situation. I grabbed my bouncy ball-formed Versimilie, now a gold brick, and hurled it at the window. It shattered, and we jumped out the window.