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Klonoa:Foreign Nightmares
Kendrikk://The Hacker
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“By that Heaven bends above us-by that God we both adore-
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, winthin the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angles call Lenore-
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore.”
Quothe the Raven, “Nevermore.”
And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallis just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all teh seeming of a dmeon’s that is dreaming,
And the lamplight o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted-nevermore!
-Edgar Allen Poe
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My name is Kendrikk. I’m a well known and rather loathed hacker living by myself in an apartment in Volk. I’d be lying if I siad I’m a fortunate guy. I’ve had probably the worst life imaginable....and it all started with that fire.......I thought my life would get better after I met her. She took away all the pain....and I would and do cry tears of blood for my loved lost Lenore.....
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Kendrick’s Story://Part One/Walls of Flames
I was only about 9 years old.It was a hot and dry night,as noisy and firey as Volk had been in a while.I sometimes suffer insomnia, especially on nights like this. I was lying in my bed listening to my parents upsairs. They were fighting. Again. My mother had divorced about two years ago, and married again in another half a year. He seemed like an ok man, but they faught alot, just like my previous father and her. I heard them screming at each other and a few loud bangs. I wished-I prayed-that they’d stop screaming. I heard them stomp down the stairs, still screming. I quetly got out of bed and went to my door. I watched the fight through a crack in the door like I had always done before. I didn’t even know what they were fighting about...They went into the kitchen and were still fighting. I wondered if they’d ever stop yelling. Suddenly the door slammed open and they immediately stopped yelling. A tall, strong looking man with a gun(the norm in Volk)stood in the doorway, scruntinizing them. He poined the gun at them each in turn, back and forth. My stepfather took half a step forward.
“Who are-” BANG! The intruder immediately shot my father without letting him finish, or saying a word himself. Then he turned to my mother and grabbed her, gun to her head. He pushed and shoved her out the door, finger on the trigger. From what I could see, he took her in the direction of the bunker.
It was a little while before he returned. By the time he did, I thought I smelled smoke and heard some screaming. I could’ve been wrong, seeing as those were normal noises and scents in Volk. The man was now ripping any cloth he could find, crumpling newspaper, anything flamable. He threw it all on the floor. He took a canister of gaselin and a match box. He emptied the entire contents of the canister onto the pile. When he lit the match, he didn’t drop it emidiately as I’d expected. Instead he held it precariously in his fingers over the fire. He prepared to let it drop and said just loud enough for me to hear, “Burn these neutral traitors abode to the ground. Show now mery and burn-burn everything these horrible traitors have....burn their lies, their peace, their unwanted existance...let our precious war go on without Neutral non-fighters....do not fail my sweet, sweet flames...” The match dropped. He bolted as the pile immediately burst into flames. I had always had a deep fear of fire, and the heat was already coming through the door. In trying to hear what the arsonist was saying, I hadn’t heard the screams coming from the bunker. I opened the door and somehow managed to carefully sidle past the pile of flames and run out the door. To my horror the bunker was only half a bunker;the other half an advancing wall of flame. My mother was locked inside, screaming like i’ve never heard her scream before. I honestly didn’t know what to do. The key was definately in the arsonist’s pocket, who was definately on his way to his next victim. There was nothing around to pry open the door, but even if there was my fear of fire wouldn’t allow me to get close enough to use it, nor would the heat. I thought quickly, but it seemed to take forever. Then I remebered the spear key in my parents’ room. I turned around, ready to run, but what I saw wasn’t my house. My house was nowhere to be seen;in its place was a wall of flames. Now I really didn’t know what to do. I stood there, staring at that wall of flames that was once our house. When I finally turned back around the bunker was no more as well. Just another mass of fire. My mother’s cries were agonizinly loud. I wished someone would hear and come to our aid, but they were all to caught up in their petty, pointless wars and their well-know dischord to want to help. My mother’s screams stopped short. I feared the worst. Before I had wished they would stop screaming, but now I prayed with everything in me that they would scream again;tell me that they’re alive. It never happened. I broke down right there on the ground, between two growing masses of flame. When the fire stated tospread on the ground to me, I didn’t notice. I was crying too hard. The fire reached me and burned my leg. I jumped up, remebering how much I hated fire, and bolted, tears still streaming down my face.My glasses were fogged, so I couldn’t see where I was going, but my eyes where closed anyway. My leg hurt from the burn. I ran and ran and ran. I didn’t know where I was going and didn’t give a damn. I didn’t care about anything except getting as far from those flames as I could.
I had know idea how far I’d run or where I was. My legs hurt so much and the tears would not stop. I refused to look where I was going;look where I was, or to see fire. I blindly ran into a young girl with her father. I didn’t llok up. I just sat there on the ground, crying harder. I didn’t care how rediculous I looked, I just cried. The girl was probably about my age. She bent down beside me and put her arm around me. Her eyes were filled withsuch concern and pity;things I’d never witness from other Volkians. I looked at her out of the corner of my good eye;I don’t think she noticed. She tried to calm me down;reducing my bawling to only a few sobs. Her voice was so beautiful; so pure and reasuring...so calm...so...so...comforing when she said to me,
“It’s alright....it’s alright....I’ll help you with whatever it is that troubles you so...I’ll help you.....I-I’ll gladly be your friend...forevermore...”
How I wish she was right....
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Kendrikk’s Story://Part Two/Lenore Nevermore
Lenore’s family took care of me for years after. Lenore and I were inseperable friends for years; 7 whole years. Her father had been teaching her many things about fireworks and bombs, and she taught me, too. If only...if only it had lasted. By that time we were about 15 or 16, Lenore and I. Still inseperable, we did anything and everything we could together. The wars in Volk were still going on(dar), but the area we were in, the nothern half of Volk, was far less violent than where I had lived.
“Kendrikk could you do me a favor?” Lenore’s father had asked me one night. I nodded.
“Could you run to the shop a block down and buy some bread for me? Here’s some dorees for it” I took it and started to leave.
“Wait! I’ll go with you,” Lenore said reaching for her coat.
“No, no, I need you help here” Her father said. She sighed and waved. I left.
/ / / / /
When I returned....I returned to a bloody hell. The kitchen which had just an hour ago been so peaceful was a blood-bath. Lenore and her father’s body where lying in the blood, their bodies the source of it. I stood there staring. The bread I had just bought dropped to the floor. I couldn’t move. I just...couldn’t. Seeing Lenore like this-dead-was too much for me. In the middle of the scene was the culprit. A purple cat with a scarf and trench coat. He had large red claws, the blood of my beloved friend on them. He was licking his claws and quietly laughing to himself. He didn’t notice I was there at first, but I guess my breathing got louder as I got angrier, because he turned around suddenly.
“...! Who might you be?”he asked, probably buying himself some time.
“Y-you....”I couldn’t quite get the words out.
“...?”
“You......you...”They still wouldn’t come. I closed my eyes for only a moment and when I opened them they were wet. I wanted to cry, but hell if I was gonna in front of this murderer. I instinctively reached into my sweatshirt pocket and wrapped my hands around the knife I have hidden there sicne my parents’ death. I wanted to pull it out and kill this man, but I waited. What if I was jumping to conclusions? What if he wasn’t the culprit?....He had to be. He had Lenore’s blood on his claws, no one else’s. This b*****d killed them without a doubt.
“I sayed ‘who might you be’. Are you deaf? Who the f**k are you?!” He yelled again. I knew what I wanted to do, and I knew what I wanted to say, but It was still unbelievable, all that was happening. That’s when I stopped thinking and started doing. I wasn’t ever going to stay quiet again.
“My name is Kendrikk you s**t-talking son of a b***h!!!If I were you I wouldn’t EVER forget that name, cause I’m gonna kill ya, even if it’s not tonight!!!!” I screamed. I didn’t sound like me to me. I couldn’t believe what I’d just said, but I meant it. He didn’t expect such a threatening answer, and looked surprised.
“Heh heh...heh..HA HA HAA!! YOU?! Kill ME?! AHA HA HA HA HA HA HA!!!!!!!!!” He laughed for a good long time, and I think it was-to him of course-one of those “Oh my god I’m laughing so hard I can’t breath” momments.
“Aha..eha...haa...that’s really the most rediculous thing I’ve heard in a while. Thanks for that one, boy.”
“...!You...!Don’t you get it?!! I can-and will-kill you! I’m...going..to..KILL YOU!!” At that I took the knife out of my pocket. The man really didn’t expect me to have a knife, but he adapted quickly. I ran toward him, dead serious and prepared to uphold my threats. As I came an inch or two from stabbing him, he side-stepped and struck the knife from my hand. Taken by surprise by the last-minuet move I lost my balance. I landed in a pool of half-dried blood and felt a pang of sorrow followed by fear. I couldn’t move for a second, and that second had mattered. The man made move to stab me with his claws. At the last split second I tried to get away, but not fast enough. He managed to stab my leg, but that was it.
“I’ve had enough of your anticks. Where the hell did you get a knife like that anyway? Ridiculous....Kids shouldn’t be walking around with knives...” He said, half to himself.
“They do when they live in Volk.You...you treat this as a game...don’t you get that you just killed two inncent people...? You b*****d....” I replied. I think I was starting to fade out...my leg hurt so much...the vision in my good eye was bluring a little.
“Heh heh...you’re going to the other side my boy...why do you think they call me ‘Poison Claw Janga’?” He said. Poison claws! That meant he had poisoned me....great...
“You...Janga, huh...? I’ll...remember that...” What happened after that was a little sketchy. I thought I heard sirens outside(the police force in Northern Volk is much better) and Janga did too.
“I guess this is farewell...Kendrikk...have fun in hell!” He said. As a parting gift, he scarred my face with a deep and obviously poisoned cut on my right cheek. I remember him running and I think I tried to bad-mouth him one more time, but I couldn’t;I was too weak from the poison. When the police came in they saw I was awake. The first thing they asked me was,”Who did this,boy?” Between coughing up a little blood and coping with the pain I managed to say, “...J-Janga...He’s...a purple cat with..poison...claws”
“I see...are you all right?” A doctor asked. I didn’t answer. I couldn’t stay awake anymore, and passed out.
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Kendrikk://The Hacker/A bit about Kendrikk
Kendrikk is a 16 year old boy living in Volk with a tragic childhood. He is blind in one eye and has poor vision in the other so wears thick glasses. I don’t suppose he ever bothers to comb his hair; he’s too busy on the computer. He’s half wolf half human a bit like Lolo is half lion(?) half human. He is very skilled hacker, though his motives have...much to be desired. In his sweatshirt pocket he keeps a kitchen knife for protection from the dangers of Volk City, and his belt sports the symbol of Volk; a split triangle with three stars. Has a profound hatred for Janga, the one who killed his best friend, Lenore(who may not be dead). Kendrikk often refuses to think about Lenore and convinced himself not to remember her name, though he thinks about her every night. Kendrikk and Lenore do not appear until the second fan fic/klodoujin, Choking on Truth.
Profile:
Kendrikk
Age: 16
Birthplace: The Kingdom of Dischord, Volk
Hobbies: hacking
Appearance: thick glasses, perfectly messy hair, large sweatshirt, belt with Volk’s sign, scar on right cheek, and a limp due to an injury from a certaint poison-clawed cat *coughJangacough*
Weaknesses: fire, Lenore, his computer(laugh)
Attitude: antisocial, cunning, confident, often cocky
Theme(s): SOS-Jonas Brothers, Somewhere I Belong-Linkin Park, No Phone-Cake
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Kendrikk://The Hakcer/A bit about Lenore
Lenore is Kendrikk’s adoptive sister and childhood friend. Her mother and father are divorced, and she lives with her father. He teaches her tons about bombs and fireworks, which she takes great pleasur in. She is a poet who writes beautiful and emotional pieces. Strong willed and smart, she’s an ideal friend. Very tomboyish, she keeps her golden-blond heair tied back in a ponytail all the time, and wears elaborate outfits. When Kendrikk went out her and her father were attacked by Janga, who killed her father and injured her deeply. It is unknown whether she is alive or dead(I;m not spoiling ANYTHING in this. Go to the “Spoilers” section if you want spoilers). She is very skilled in mechanics, but not very good on the computer.
Profile:
Lenore
Age: 16
Birthplace:La-Lakoosha; moved to Volk
Hobbies: making fireworks, learning computer skills, hanging out withKendrikk
Appearance: goggles around nekc, huskie tail, elaborate jacket, dress, and boot combo, loose golden-blond hair, ponytail.
Weaknesses: explosives, Kendrikk, her father, insults.
Attitude: optomistic, tomboyish, impish, confident, cheerful, brave, strong-willed.
Theme(s): Miss Independent-Kelly Clarkson, Everytime We Touch-CASCADA, In the Shadows-The Ramsus
Claimer:
Janga, Volk, Klonoa belong to Namco/Klonoa Works
Kendrikk&Lenore belong to me
 theLiMonster · Sun Jan 06, 2008 @ 01:05am · 1 Comments |
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