Ebby Flint and the Sword of Sorrows (Book 1 in the Artis Trilogy)

The Departure of Ebby Flint

Chapter One – The Departure of Ebby Flint

Once upon a time I sat in my bedroom corner clutching a lamp. I'll be honest; this is not where I expected my life to end. I was hoping to die epically like Boromir from Lord of the Rings: sacrificing myself for the greater good. But death by lamp is much worse.

Nothing that happened today could have predicted this. Although, my day was quite hectic, I never thought it would end with the Grim Reaper at my door.

Recalling on my conversation I had with my friend, Marcus, I realize that perhaps I should have paid more attention to what he was saying.

We were sitting on the benches outside the school. Marcus, while giving out his insightful thoughts, was also indulging himself in a slice of pizza.

"Ebby, are you even listening to me? This is important stuff I'm telling you," Marcus yelled, allowing me to see the crushed up pizza in his mouth.

"I'm sorry, it's hard to pay attention to you when you have cheese and tomato sauce all over your mouth. When you're finished murdering that pizza, perhaps I will pay attention to you." He placed the pizza down beside him, and then proceeded to wipe his mouth on his long sleeved shirt, leaving a big greasy stain.

"All I'm saying is that if there is serial killer in your house, don't go running up the stairs. Think of every horror movie you've ever seen where the victim does something stupid like that, nothing good ever happens from it. In fact, I bet the serial killer is hoping that you'll run up the stairs."

"Okay, I'll keep that in mind next time there is a murderer in my house. But if you seem so interested in serial killers, why don't you become one yourself?"

He gave a startlingly evil smile. "I'm an apathetic sociopath. I'd kill you if I cared."

I laughed. "I'd like to see you try to kill someone."

"Really? You'd like to watch me kill someone? That's a little morbid, Ebby." Marcus said, his voice dripped with sarcasm.

"Whatever."

Someone caught my eye as they walked out the school doors. I recognized the long blond hair almost immediately. I nudged Marcus a little too hard.

"What?" he asked annoyed, putting his fallen earphone back in his ear.

"Would you stop listening to Brittany Spears, and look over there," I demanded, pointing towards the girl that left the school.

Marcus rolled his eyes. "First of all, this isn't Brittany Spears, this is Airface Triple."

I formed a bizarre face. "Who in the world is Airface Triple?"

He looked shocked. "Dost thou hath no knowledge of quality music?" He sighed, "Kids these days."

I choked on nothing. "Quality music?"

Marcus ignored me, and continued. "Secondly, I don't care about Martha anymore." She was the girl that I pointed out to Marcus. He had thought he found his true love when they first met. "I know what you're thinking. How can I not like her anymore? Well, I'll tell you why. She is a egotistical non-intellectual female who thinks that everyone loves her. Open your eyes sweet heart. We don't."

I chuckled, readjusting myself on the bench, so I'm facing him. "She's not that bad. Really, I don't understand your new opinion on her."

"Thirdly, you didn't let me finish." He gave me a hard look. "I'm one hundred percent positive that she's the only teenage girl named Martha. That's an old lady name. Plus last time I touched something she did, I got a rash. So it's official, I'm allergic to her."