The Greatest Adventure

CHAPTER 1: WE'RE DOING WHAT NOW?

Really? Is that really how we're going to start? Don't you think it's a bit pretentious? Okay, it's your dime, but if it was my barbecue, I'd call it something different.

What? Are you telling me you've never heard someone use the expression "if it was my barbecue?" Yes it is. It is a legit expression. Nicholas Cage wouldn't lie. Alright, enough of the falderal, let's get on with it. So's I can cash my check.

It's a bright shining day. The soil Is moist from the recent rainfall, which makes the dirt easy to till. Good news for a farmer, who's out in his field, busy tilling and scraping at the land to make it fit for planting. Each turn of the earth revealing the fertile soil beneath.

He breaks from his arduous task, so he can wipe the sweat from his brow. He surveys the work yet to be done. He glances upward at the sun, his indicator of time. It's still early in the morning which meant he still has almost a whole day, to prepare his land.

He sets back to work. There's still a lot of work to be done, which includes planting his crop. If he was to be ready for the rainy season.

The farmer is busy at his task, when a stranger joins him. He doesn't notice the interloper, not at first, until a shadow falls across his path. He turns to greet the individual and his mouth falls open, while his hoe hit the ground. He could not believe the sight before him.

It seems as though an alien has landed upon his field. Its skin is pitch black and its body is squat, standing just below the farmer's head, who is of average height. It has four, severely muscular arms and bright, green eyes.

The farmer doesn't know what to think. This thing looks rather menacing and he isn't sure if it's mission is a peaceful one. But he fears it's not. He takes a small step back. The creature follows.

He breaks out in a cold sweat, as he doesn't know what to do. Then, he remembers the tool lying just inches away. Slowly, carefully, he lowers his body and extends his hand toward the discarded implement.

The thing watches the farmer closely, following his movements, with its unflinching eyes. Swallowing hard, the farmer takes hold of the tool in question. Clenching it tightly, he draws upward and with a vicious war cry, brings it down on the shoulder of his adversary. It barely penetrated the dense, muscular flesh, but creates a perforation, from which green blood oozes.

The creature stares dead in the farmer's frightened eyes, while it grabs hold of the would-be weapon of destruction and wrenches it free of the farmer's grasp. It stares menacingly at the injurious device, before breaking it in two.

The farmer requires no further cue and he bolts away, as fast as his legs can carry him, while the creature gives chase. But its squat legs make it much slower, than the farmer's wide gait. As such, he makes it to the door of his quaint cottage, well before his pursuer.

Andrew is busy about his studies. He didn't much care for them, but his father insisted. He didn't want his son to grow up a farmhand, not when he had options available to him. An opportunity that the boy did not understand, as he racks his brain, trying his best to understand the book in front of him.

It didn't help that history was not his favorite subject, that would be recess. Still, he's in the midst of studying, when he's rudely interrupted.

A loud bang seizes his attention and he looks up from his book. Across the room, he can see a sweaty, heavy breathing body leaning against the front door, desperately trying to catch his breath. It's the farmer, from earlier.

"What's wrong, Pa?" Andrew calls from across the room, as he remains seated.

The farmer hurries over to his son. Wheezing heavily, he tries to speak. There's nothing but air. All the while, the boy simply stares at him, confused by what he saw.