Whispers in the Dark

This fanfiction is set in the Murderverse. It's about a family of three struggling in this mad world:
Jerboa
Everest
Fallout
They will find out the truth of the chaos in the continents, and why their friends Zodiac and Talon are acting strange. 
Note: you need to read the little story in the Murderverse page to get why.
So you won't have to scroll forever, I'm going to use tabbers.
<tabber>
|-|Allegiances=
SandWings and IceWings: Bloodscale Syndicate
SeaWings and RainWings: Serpent's Vengance
SkyWings and MudWings: Crimson Shadows
NightWings and HiveWings: Obsidian Reapers
SilkWings and LeafWings: Shadowstrike Guild
|-|Prologue=
They fly through the thick snow, beating their yellowish-white wings rapidly. "Gotta... get to him... take... stuff..." They struggle to say. They soon see a small shelter in the distance.
"Achilles!" They shout, exhausted. "Moons, I need a break," They sigh, and swoop down to the small shelter. "Achilles?" They ask outside the entrance.
The door swings open. No one is behind it. "Achilles? Do you remember me, Zodiac?" Zodiac says, his heavy breathing the only sound other than the howling wind of the blizzard.
He looks inside. The shelter's barren landscape filled Zodiac with worry. What if he's not here? he thinks worriedly. "Come..." he hears, after a few moments.
He sighs with relief. "Phew. I thought you weren't here!" he says to the emptiness. "I told you to come already," the voice says angrily.
Zodiac obeys and walks inside the small living space. "Achilles? I was just wondering," he says as he nears him, "if you could do me a favor. I'm not sure you still do this, but I have a request for it."
He faces Achilles, soon, the massive shape of the tribeless, golden dragon looming over his tiny dragonet body. "I was wondering if you still did the... thing you do," he says.
Note: You really should read the Murderverse story, you need to read it!!!
"What? Who do you want?" he replies. "I'd like you to get me Cicada. She's a tiny little HiveWing who was slaughtered not too long ago. That would make it easier, I believe, right?" Zodiac asks.
"Yes, that would. Just give me one of her possesions, and memories, and I'll be set to help you; for a price." Achilles says, his blood stained teeth and blue eyes gleaming.
Zodiac nods, and gives him a small pink purse with a flower inside. "It's her favorite bag," he says. "And her memory: one time she thought Talon was dead, but remembered that he was on a dangerous mission to get food." Zodiac says, his voice on the verge of breaking.
Achilles closes his eyes. "This will take a while. You may have to leave and come back in a few hours or one day." Achilles rumbles. He opens his eyes. "Go. I've estimated the time; about a day or so, and you'll have Cicada back. But remember this: the price is..."
Zodiac waits for him to continue. "You must give me an animus. And then... never mind, just go find one, and bring them back to me." Achilles says, and waves at Zodiac for him to leave.
"Alright, alright, thanks," he says, and exits the shelter. "And don't you forget it," he says as Zodiac leaves. The two tribeless dragons lock eyes for the final time. "'Til we meet again," Zodiac says.
But Zodiac can't shake the feeling that this will not go well.
|-|Chapter One=
"Run, run, run, all you want. You can't escape." He remembers the voice of that terrible dragon, Achilles. Don't remember it. Stay alive, that's all you should think about.
His yellow eyes dart side to side, wary of danger that lurks in this very continent, knowing Pantala isn't much better than this wasteland, Pyrrhia.
He soon spots a camoflauged shelter, no larger than a garage shed. What I'd do for one of those nice houses, he thinks, wishing he could escape somewhere safe.
He swoops down to the shed, and knocks once, twice, then says, "I'm home." The door opens a crack, warm light seeping through. "Fallout? Is that you?" a female voice says. 
"Yeah, Mom, let me in, I scent NightWing." Fallout replies. Fallout slips inside, feeling warmth in his white-and-gold scales. "Everest, is dinner ready?" he asks, and she replies, "Yes, come downstairs!" Everest walks downstairs, Fallout following her.
The smell of warm soup fills his nostrils. "Mmmm, tomato soup? Where'd you get the supplies?" Fallout asks. "Your father, Jerboa, came and went, leaving some tomatoes and chicken, and so many other things."
"Okay, now I'm hungry, so let's eat. But first, where's Dad?" Fallout asks. "He's out on a mission." Everest says. "And what about that NightWing you scented? Who was it?"
"I think it was Eclipse. He shouldn't be in Bloodscale Syndicate territory. He's probably out on a mission, doing recon or something like that."
Fallout replies.
"Okay, well now you can start eating," Everest says. "You've had a long day."
[.:.]
The next morning, Fallout wakes to his father coming home right before breakfast. At the table, Jerboa shares his adventures as he cuts his steak. "And Eclipse never saw me comin'. I sliced his head off clean, and he fell. I know what you're thinkin', 'Why didn't you rip his throat instead?' Well, beheading is better, and assures they're not comin' back, not ever."
Fallout listens as he bites into his chicken, and Everest scowls. One of the rarest things you could ever see her do. "You should have done what you didn't do!" Everest says. "Beheading is still a bit too much for me. You do remember that's how my brother was killed."
Jerboa shrugs apologetically. "I sometimes forget when I'm fightin' for my life, sorry. I won't talk about that at the table no more." He takes a huge bite of his steak, and soon it's gone.
"Oi, Fallout, today something special's happenin'." Jerboa says. "It's time for your test. You're sixteen today, and you'll be tested to be a warrior for the ruler of the Bloodscale Syndicate territory."
Fallout gulps. I've been dreading this day for years. This can't be happening. But it's inevitable. And if he loses, it's off with his head.
|-|Chapter Two=
Fallout's heart races as he leaves the shelter. The large Bloodscale Syndicate base stands tall in the distance, a fortress of stone and iron. The path to it feels both too short and too long, each step bringing him closer to the test that could be the end of him.
He thinks back to his father’s words at breakfast, the image of Eclipse’s beheading still fresh in his mind. Jerboa’s casual recounting of violence made him feel weird. He shakes off the thought, focusing instead on the fortress ahead. Survival, he thinks. Stay alive.
As he approaches the base, the scent of blood and sweat fills the air. Fallout braces himself, his eyes scanning the crowd for familiar faces. He spots a group of SandWings and IceWings, members of the Bloodscale Syndicate, practicing combat techniques nearby. Their brutal efficiency sends a shiver down his spine.
Inside the base, dragons whisper and glance at Fallout as he navigates the corridors. He finally reaches the training grounds, a large open space filled with weapons and battle-scarred dummies. Standing there is a SeaWing, her blue-green scales glistening like the depths of the ocean. She looks out of place amidst the harsh surroundings of the Bloodscale Syndicate.
Fallout’s curiosity piques. He approaches her cautiously, his yellow eyes studying her. “You’re not from around here, are you?” he whispers, hoping not to draw attention.
The SeaWing turns to him, her eyes a striking shade of turquoise, he muscles tensing. “No, I’m not,” she replies softly. “My name is Prismarine. I’m from the Serpent’s Vengeance.”
Fallout’s heart skips a beat. He knows the danger of talking with someone from another group, but there’s something about Prismarine that draws him in. “I’m Fallout,” he says, lowering his voice further. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m on the run,” Prismarine admits. “I was captured during a raid, but I managed to escape. I’m trying to find a way back to Serpent's Vengance territory.”
Fallout glances around, ensuring no one is listening. “You shouldn’t be here. If they find out…”
“I know,” Prismarine interrupts, her voice trembling. “But I don’t have anywhere else to go.”
In that moment, something shifts within Fallout. Despite the danger, he feels a connection to this SeaWing. “We’ll figure something out,” he whispers, a promise in his words.
Before he can say more, a loud voice interrupts. “Fallout, it’s time for your test!” A massive SandWing with a scar running down his snout approaches, his eyes cold. It’s General Scorpion, one of the most feared dragons in the Bloodscale Syndicate.
Fallout’s heart pounds in his chest. He nods to Prismarine, a silent message passing between them. Stay safe.
General Scorpion leads Fallout to the center of the training grounds. “Today, you prove your worth,” he snarls. “Fail, and you die. Succeed, and you become one of us.”
Fallout’s legs feel like jelly as he takes his position. He glances back at Prismarine, who watches with a mix of fear and hope. Her being there gives him strength, for some odd reason.
The test begins. "First test: Fight this dummy enchanted to fight like you." Scorpion says. Jerboa’s words echo in his head: Beheading is better, and assures they’re not comin’ back.
[.:.]
As the final challenge approaches, Fallout finds himself facing a massive MudWing. The dragon’s muscles ripple with power, and his eyes gleam with fury. Fallout takes a deep breath, focusing on his training. This was it.
The fight is intense. Claws clash and tails whip through the air. Fallout dodges and strikes, using every bit of his strength and skill. He remembers his father’s lessons a while ago, aiming for vital points and moving with precision.
Finally, with a swift, calculated move, Fallout brings the MudWing down. He stands over his opponent, panting heavily. The crowd is silent for a moment, then erupts into cheers.
General Scorpion approaches, a rare smile on his face. “Welcome to the Bloodscale Syndicate, warrior. I give you a new name in our language, Serpenthian. You will be known as Sahristal, meaning 'Desert Crystal'."
Fallout sighs in relief, but his mind immediately goes to Prismarine. As the crowd disperses, he seeks her out, finding her in the shadows. “We’ll find a way,” he whispers. “I promise.”
Prismarine nods, a glimmer of hope in her eyes. “I believe you, Fallout.” But his father's words from long ago echo in his mind: "Don't make promises you don't think you can keep."
|-|Chapter Three=
"So, how was your assesment?" Jerboa asks at the dinner table. "Good," Fallout simply says. "Uhhh, I received my warrior name. I'm now Sahristal." Fallout begins.
Jerboa looks at him, something like longing and sadness glimmering in his eyes. "Sah...ristal?" he asks, as if he cannot believe it. "Uh, yeah" Fallout assures him. "What's wrong with it?"
Jerboa swallows. "That... that was your sister's warrior name." he said quietly. Everest hung her head. Fallout's vision swam. "My...my sister? Who was she? Why isn't she with us?" 
Jerboa sighs. Everest glances at him. "I didn't think we'd have to tell you about this... so soon." He met Fallout's gaze, intense, black eyes meeting yellow ones.
"She's dead," he simply said, his voice breaking, then got up, and went to his room. The door slammed shut, and Fallout heard a faint sobbing. "Why...what happened?" Fallout asked.
"No more questions, dear," Everest said sadly. "Your father and I have had enough news for today." Everest soon joined her mate, and Fallout went to his room sulkily.
He flopped onto his bed and started to drift off to sleep. One last thought crossed his mind. What if she's still out there, somewhere?
[.:.]
"Wake up, Fallout! It's time for you to start helping the Syndicate."
Wip, coming soon!
</tabber>
Category:Content (Katheesbp)
Category:Mature Content
Category:Fanfictions
Category:Fanfictions (Incomplete)
Category:Fanfictions (Fanon)
Category:Genre (Adventure)