"First, my processor sucks more than Santa Claus and my modem blows more ass than Floppy the Fat sea otter. "
-Roy_Rules
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| Dream Control: Section A | | | Author: | | | IP: | slip-32-XXXX | | Date: | 04/07/00 08:04 | | Game Type: | Starcraft | | Labels: | none | | Report Rating: , # of Ratings: 1, Max: 8, Min: 8
Lifetime Rating for Scream Stalker: 8.0000 |  | Hi all, for those of you looking for some nice br with pretty pictures, turn back now. Sorry. This happens to be my attempt at writing a fan fiction form of story. I hope this is the right catagory for this type of report. I was torn between "StarCraft" and "Other". Without further ado, I give you:
Dream Control: Section A - First Dream
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Calvin Richardson yawned and rose out of bed. His back was sore from the previous night's 4 hour gaming session, and his throat was dry and scratchy from the lack of fluids. Calvin quickly showered, dressed, and traveled into the kitchen to search for some kind of breakfast before he made the journey to school. Upon entering the kitchen, Calvin tore open the refrigerator, pulled out a can of Pepsi, popped the tab, and let the carbonation sooth his sore throat. It didn't help much. Tossing the empty can aside, Calvin crept into his mom's bedroom, took 5 dollars for lunch from an envelope on the nightstand, and kissed her gently on the forehead before exiting her room. He then snatched his keys off the countertop, and hopped into his dark blue '97 Mustang.
Calvin was your normal 16 year old male. He was 5'8", weighed in at about 135 lbs., and had blue eyes and brown hair. He was fairly popular with the ladies, had plenty of guy buddies, and made decent grades. But the only thing Calvin cared about, was his on-line strategy game, StarCraft. Calvin ate, slept, and sweated StarCraft. He would spend hours brooding over strategies, and developing new ways to attack and defend against opponents. Instead of partying or studying like most teenagers do at night, Calvin would sit down and devote all his attention to the game. Lately, his mother had been worried about his addiction to this unlikely substance, but since she had not seen any change in Calvin's school work, she let it slide. All during his drive to school, and all during the day, Calvin's mind concentrated on StarCraft. Sure, he took adequate notes in Chemistry, and he did quite well on his English test, but all were in the back of his mind. It was almost as if Calvin performed these school tasks subconsciously.
When the bell finally rang at 3:00 PM, Calvin was one of the first cars out of the parking lot. He lived not far from the school grounds, so he made it home fairly quickly. Once he had parked in the driveway, Calvin unlocked the front door, stepped inside, and re-locked it. This was a procedure his mother specified that he do, she was some what paranoid. Calvin was lucky that day, he didn't have to work, and he had minimal homework. Bypassing his homework for the time being, Calvin grabbed another Pepsi, and an energy bar and trotted into the computer nook. The IBM was already up and running, so Calvin quickly connected to the Internet, and popped the CD drive open. Running his fingers down the rack of computer games he owned, Calvin choose the only game he had played in months, and placed it in the idle CD drive. It was, of course, Brood War.
Calvin had a specific race pattern that he followed, on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, he always choose Protoss as his race. On Thursdays and Saturdays, he was always Terran, and on Sundays and Tuesdays he was always Zerg. After Kerrigan's infested face had disappeared from the monitor, Calvin quickly selected multi-player, followed by Battle.Net. It took him approximately 7 seconds to log on, after which, he typed in the password for one of two of his alias, this one being ~Asylum~. Once logged into B.Net, Calvin found a game in record time. An open 2v2 was being advertised in the "Join" area of B.Net, on a map Calvin had played many times before, Medusa. After signing on to the game, Calvin realized that he was the fourth and final player for this match. Little conversation was happening, and the host simply muttered tvb and started the game. Calvin took a quick mental note of who his partner was, and since it was Wednesday, he choice Protoss as his race.
The game was an intense one, and evenly matched. It turned out that both the opponents ended up randoming to Zerg, while Calvin's ally ended up with Terran. All four players were quite skilled, and the game lasted a long time. In the end, Calvin's team stood victorious, winning by a Reaver drop behind the last functioning mineral line of one of the Zerg's expansions. Good games were exchanged all around, and the two Zerg Cerebrates conceded. Calvin smiled inwardly, he always felt self-confident after a hard fought win. Taking a quick glance at expenses made by the other players, Calvin saw that the game had lasted a little over two hours, quite a bit longer than he had expected to play. Deciding that he better not push his luck, the triumphant Praetor signed off B.Net.
Hearing his stomach growl, Calvin realized that he hadn't eaten since lunch, and that the energy bar wasn't doing much to quell his hunger. Walking back into the kitchen, Calvin noticed the note taped to the kitchen countertop. He had been in such a hurry when he got home that he had missed it the first time, but now Calvin stopped to read the note's contents. It stated:
Calvin- Have to work late tonight. Be home around 12. Hotpockets in the freezer. Make sure you do your homework and go easy on StarCraft please. Love, Mom
Calvin chuckled to himself, and tossed the note into the waste basket. He then pulled a meatball hotpocket out of the frig, along with his third Pepsi. After throwing the hotpocket in the microwave, and drinking a sip of the soda, Calvin went back into his room to retrieve his untouched homework.
At 7:25, Calvin had finished all his math and German assignments. He packed all his materials back into his book bag and once again logged onto Battle.Net. Three hours later, he signed off. Calvin had gained four wins in the three hours, as well as two losses. Not bad he thought to himself. A solid day's work. After closing down his IBM, and replacing Brood War in his CD rack, Calvin called it a night, changed into his pajamas and climbed into bed.
When Calvin awoke he was standing in the middle of a dark barren battlefield. Several forms crowded around him, almost as if he was at some sort of assembly. Calvin quickly thought that he had somehow fallen asleep at school, that thought was obliterated thoroughly though when Calvin opened his mouth to speak, and found that it was missing. A wave of panic washed over him, "what in the hell" he thought to himself. It was then Calvin looked at the crown around him, and at himself. The crowd was not people at all, but Zealots. Their withered leathery skin and impressive metallic armor made a sharp contrast against the darkened moon of this unknown world. Along the forearm of each Zealot was a cylinder shaped piece of armor, with a small opening at the end, from which a single energy blade protruded. It was then Calvin looked at himself, most of his body was also covered in the same kinetic armor, which shined and glimmered even in this black light. What Calvin could see of his actual body was mostly pure muscle, covered by a layer of taunt albino skin. His hands no longer were divided into five fingers, but rather three portions, and he, like every other zealot, had a psi blade traveling from the top of his forearm out.
It was then Calvin felt it. A mental message sent by some higher power, it's orders were brief and to the point. The message was:
"Warriors of Aiur, you have been summoned here today to serve our great race in a battle of honor and pride. Your instructions are to attack the Zerg encampment located 34.78 PSRs to the north west. Take no prisoners."
More mental messages began to flood the airwaves between Calvin and other warriors. The messages contained emotions too, most of which were pride, hatred, and fear, in that order. Calvin was beginning to get psyched as well. He also began to spawn mental cheers and shout them to others of his kind. The order was then given, attack. Calvin felt his legs begin to absorb a drug of some kind from the armor covering them. Suddenly, he was moving with the crowd. They headed north west just as the orders had stated. While traveling, Calvin took a quick head count, he totaled 12 zealots in all. No other units. "Must be early battle rush" he thought. After walking for what seemed like several minutes, the warriors came to a stop below a ramp. In the blink of an eye a wave of Zerglings poured down the ramp into the crowd of Zealots. Feeling the jolt and boost of the oncoming battle, Calvin surged forward, one of the first of the zealots to hit the Zerg mass. Swinging his blades destructively, he hit the first ling dead on, and sliced off three appendages before striking the monster through the chest, sustaining no damage. Behind his fallen foe, three more Zerglings took its place. Calvin struck down another before a claw ripped through part of his defensive shield. Another claw struck, then another. Calvin's shields were soon depleted. Behind him, his comrades weren't doing well, as 7 had already fallen to the superior numbers of the Zerg. Calvin felt the first real pain of the battle when a ling stuck a scythe like blade through his chest, causing him to crumble to the ground. In seconds, several more lings were upon him, tearing at his flesh and muscle. The last thought that ran through Calvin's mind was "For Aiur" before the blue fire in his eyes glazed over, and died.
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Well, there it is, Section A. Hoped you all enjoyed it. Please, feedback! I need to know, should I keep writing these things? Or should I stop now and save myself the trouble? All comments welcome! Thanks you for your time.
ScreamStalker
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