Contents
Power Fantasy: Chronicles of the Shattered Earth
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
About the Author
Acknowledegements
Contact the Author
Discover Other Titles by Scottie Futch
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Power Fantasy: Chronicles of the Shattered Earth
By Scottie Futch
Copyright Scottie Futch 2020
License Note: This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite eBook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Author's Note: All individuals engaging in acts of an adult nature in this book series are over the age of eighteen. This is a work of satire and parody intended to gently mock and celebrate certain things that the author loves. Anime waifus, perversely comical zombies, and much more await you inside. Those among you who shy away from gratuitous violence, or over-the-top sexy fun times may wish to keep those thoughts in mind as you read onward.
Chapter One
The droning monotone of a masculine speaking voice echoed within the confines of an unfathomable darkness. A voice of profound mediocrity, it reached deep into the slumbering mind of the listener long before he managed to open his eyes. There was something soothing about the voice. It was as though it desired nothing more than for him to remain asleep for all eternity. Nothing that it might say could possibly be of merit, and as such he should remain unaware of life and all its many wondrous mysteries. This soothing voice spoke of things such as history and mathematics, but the words were a lullaby born of the darkest magics. They would subdue and dominate the unwary leaving them nothing more than a slumbering shell of their former selves.
It was not until a blunt object impacted his forehead that Scott Ambrose awoke from his teacher induced stupor. He snorted himself awake with both a start, and a fart, then looked around bleary eyed at a scene most unfamiliar.
“Back among the living now are we, Mr. Ambrose?” asked a short haired man. A teacher by his tone, dress, and demeanor the balding man drew his shirt up slowly toward his nose without making mention of the flatulent offense made within those hallowed halls of academia.
Scott blinked owlishly for a moment, his eyes closing then opening wide only to close once more. He tried to understand his surroundings, but his methane addled senses were having none of it. Currently, he sat in what appeared to be a classroom. There were dozens of good-looking people around him who looked to be wearing overly vivid school uniforms. In fact, at first glance they were almost too attractive to be real. He did not pay that much attention to their faces as it was still hard to focus on any one thing, but they seemed to be somewhere between Asian and Caucasian in appearance, almost uniformly so. In fact, they might have been something else altogether. A few among them even looked somewhat Hispanic.
There was a strange overall similarity of facial structures from one person to the next that briefly made him wonder if he was secretly a racist. He could scarcely tell some of them apart!
Ignoring their similarities for a moment, he could not help but note the colorful nature of everything around him once more. In fact, all of the colors in the room seemed to be super-saturated as though the world was bursting with life. Hair colors ranged from overly saturated browns to hot pink colors. If anything, the world almost seemed to be slightly overlain with a strange three-dimensional bit of cel shading.
“The hell?” he asked, his eyes wide. He did not recall being a drug addict, but he must have found the best kind of cocaine somewhere earlier in the day. No, with colors this vivid he was clearly high on LSD.
“That’s it!” snapped the man who looked like the world’s most stereotypical male teacher. “Not only do you sleep in class, but you start swearing? I’ll have a talk with your parents!”
“Call his parents?” one guy mumbled. “Doesn’t this guy know we’re in college?”
“Right?” asked a red-haired girl who wore glasses.
Scott’s eyes narrowed, though he silently thanked the expositional extras who had spoken up during this weird moment in his life. “I’m a grown man, and my parents have been dead for years.”
The teacher seemed taken aback. “I… am sorry. I did not know that. However—”
Whatever the man intended to say to Scott was suddenly interrupted by a black-haired youth entering the room in a rush. All eyes turned to the new arrival, though he did not seem to notice them.
Two things happened. One, a pink haired girl with a twin-tailed hair style rose up from her seat and slapped the surface of her desk like it owed her money. She gave the young man a death glare but said nothing despite the rage she openly bore in her expression.
A curvaceous young woman with light brown hair also rose up from her desk, and her eyes also blazed with anger. Scott watched them closely, as these people seemed to know each other.
“Jade! Something’s happening. We’re getting out of here,” said the invader. He grabbed the girl’s arm and started to drag her off.
Another young man popped up and rushed over to the scene. “Tosh! What’s going on?”
The one called Tosh spouted out something that caused a minor uproar. “A teacher’s been killed. Things are going to be bad here, soon.”
“What is this nonsense?” asked the teacher. “Everyone, sit down!”
“Killed?” asked Jade heatedly. She ripped her arm free of his grip then shouted at him. “What did you do! What’s wrong with you, idiot!”
“There’s no time!” snapped Tosh. He tried to grab her by the arm once more, but she drew back.
“Don’t touch me!” She began to shout hysterically at him; but was soon silenced by a hard slap across the face.
“Shut up! We don’t have time for this!” snarled Tosh.
Scott nearly fell over when a voice echoed in his ears. What in the world was going on right now?
Tosh used Bitch Slap. Jade’s status effect [Hysterical Ex-girlfriend] has been removed.
Her eyes widened, even as her face reddened for various reasons. “Wow... I never thought of it that way.”
She rubbed her cheek. It felt hot, and once again it was for various reasons best left unspoken. “Such a compelling argument.”
Jade looked into Tosh’s eyes, unspent emotion glittering like tears about to fall. “I get it now.”
She turned to look at the other guy. “C’mon, Sushi! Let’s ditch class to run off with my ex-boyfriend. He is clearly sane and only thinking of my best interest even though he just ran in here mentioning dead bodies, slapped me across the face, and cucked you in front of everyone!”
“Ok!” cried the other guy, oddly named Sushi.
Scott’s normal instinct after seeing this was to rise from his seat and get involved. Whether there was an emergency or not, slapping a girl across the face because she wouldn’t let some dude she used to date drag her off was not cool. However, as he stood up to get involved something clicked.
The dialog was not quite the same, and certain
ly the names were different, but the scenario seemed familiar. Something about the scene, and the oddly saturated nature of the world made a few impossible notions click together inside his still addled mind.
“No way…” he said, his eyes widening.
He ignored the trio for a moment. Instead he rushed to the window and looked around frantically. The situation was ludicrous enough as it was, but to think there was even a small possibility that his weird thought could be true caused him to focus his attentions, not on the classroom, but on what he could see outside.
While he looked around the trio left the room. Life in this weird place, not unlike a bitchy ex-girlfriend who’d had enough of his shit, did not seem to want to wait for him to get his act together.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” said Scott. He laughed in a somewhat deranged manner and shook his head.
“Language, Scott!” snapped the teacher.
Scott looked out of the window and saw that there were a few people staggering toward the building. His eyes widened. “Shit!”
The teacher slammed his hands down onto his desk. “That’s it! I’m getting the principal!”
Scott glanced back at the room full of overly colorful people then said, “Run. Stay here and you’re going to die.”
Realizing that what he said had sounded crazy to them, and that none of them seemed to want to budge from their seats, Scott did the only thing that he could do. He ran off. He was no hero. Even if he was, he could not save these people. He was just one man and a whole lot of death was about to descend on this weird color saturated school.
The events of the day, as ludicrous as it sounded, seemed to parody the opening events of an anime series that he loved. Highschool of the Dead.
When the trio in that scene interacted the dialog was different, though the general plot remained the same. If anything, his racing thoughts noted that their words almost seemed to be a twisted take on the original scene.
As he ran through the hallway, he saw a few other students in passing. Their eyes seemed slightly larger than one might expect, though not unappealing. It was not even to the extent of the eyes featured on the heroine of the move Alita: Battle Angel. If anything, the students almost looked like three-dimensional cel shaded anime characters. Though, the color ranges and their facial proportions were more akin to a slightly oversaturated real world rather than a true animation color palette and drawing style. It was a hard thing to describe, even to himself.
Out in the hall, he soon realized that he had no idea where to go but continued straight until he reached an intersection. “Left, or right? Fuck!”
Uncertain, he rushed off to the left. The voice in his head from before spoke once more.
Objective: Kill one zombie.
“Shit! What the hell is going on!” How had he come to be in this place? Why did it seem like a weird live-action version of Highschool of the Dead? What was with the voice in his head? How was he supposed to kill a zombie unarmed? Should he even try?
Scott looked out of the hallway window as he ran. In the distance he could see smoke, but his view of the world was mostly obscured at this level. Outside of the school dozens of people were running around as zombies attempted to take them to the ground. He nearly tripped and fell. However, he saw something even more unexpected than the floor coming up to greet him. A male zombie ripped open the shirt of a female student instead of her throat.
“The hell?” he asked, slowing to a halt. He watched in growing horror as the zombie began to fondle the breasts of the girl. She fought with the creature, tried to break free. She happened to knock its cold dead hands away, but in doing that a change came over the beast. It lost interest in her exposed breasts and tore into her throat like a wild animal.
He was broken out of his disturbing reverie by the sound of a voice that spoke over the PA system. It alerted the students to an emergency situation in the school and urged them to evacuate.
The hall was filling with students now, each panicking as their fear transformed their voices into the shrieks and wails. In Scott’s mind they sounded like terrified livestock who had only now learned that they were destined for the slaughter house. They did not know what was happening, but they had to get out!
“Fuck!” cried Scott. The mass of humanity rushed through the corridors like a frightened herd and ran right into a wave of people who had come up from the nearby stairs. The panicked students slammed into each other and caused a messy tangle of bodies. The unfortunate souls caught up in that mess were soon set upon by numerous zombies that had broken through the front door. Terrified by the sudden deaths of their classmates, these people had run up the stairs to try and escape.
“It’s way too fucking crowded here,” he said through clenched teeth.
Scott did not know what sort of person that he should be in such a situation, but he did know that he could not be the idiot who stood around slack-jawed if he wanted to live. Was it a dream? Was he in a coma? Did he die and go to anime hell? He did not know. If he had forewarning that he would awaken as a student in what could only be seen as an oversexed college-age parody of Highschool of the Dead, he might have been able to at least enjoy the idea that some of his favorite fap mat— fictional zombie killers were real people. At the moment, however, all that mattered was survival.
He back-pedaled then slipped sideways against the wall. People began to run away from the press of zombies and wriggling man-flesh. Panic-stricken they rammed against him while tears streamed from their eyes.
“God dammit!” he snarled as he was shoved against the window by a passing fatty who wanted to live at all costs.
He turned to see what was happening and wished that he hadn’t. Zombies were attacking students in various ways. Some more disturbing than others. “What the shit?”
Three zombies had ganged up on one female student and forced themselves on her in a rapacious manner more fit for a bad hentai doujinshi than a live-action version of the story. Directly next to them, another pack of zombies gnawed on the entrails of an unfortunate student who could no longer be identified as male or female. It was a horrific scene of cannibalistic gender fluidity that played out several times in that disgusting orgy of blood, death, and weird eroticism.
Scott slowly shook his head, his expression filled with disgust. What kind of hell had he fallen into?
One good thing did come from his momentary loss of focus. He noticed a classroom across from him. Directly on the other side of it there was another door which lead to the hallway parallel to this one.
He rushed through the door and shut it behind himself. A loud pounding came from the door, but it was obvious that it was not a student seeking help. The loud moans and shrieks of the dead made it appallingly clear.
There were a few students hiding in the room. Obviously terrified, they stared at him with hateful tear-stained eyes.
“Run!” Scott cried out to them. “If you don’t get out of here now, you won’t make it out alive.”
“Go away!” shrieked a blond-haired male student. Two other students, another boy and a girl, shouted at him to stay away.
“Shit!” He couldn’t help them. He couldn’t even help himself.
Scott dodged a flying shoe that the boy threw at him, while wondering what sort of man threw a shoe. What was he, a Mexican grandmother?
At any rate, he rushed out of the other door. Not long after he made it through to the other side of the room, the sound of the classroom door being torn open by force echoed in his ears. The students screamed briefly, and then they screamed no longer. Though, had he stuck around he would have also heard a bit of moaning and one disturbingly cute momentary, “Ahn!” before their short brutal end.
More by luck than any instinct, Scott noticed movement ahead and jumped just in time to avoid a collision with a zombie that tackled a male student to the ground. He did not look back as he cleared the scene and reached the next set of stairs beyond. Had he done so he would have seen a large b
reasted female zombie tearing at the clothes of a terrified young man who many would have considered disturbingly handsome. He would have also realized that the zombies could do more than moan.
Face ripped open, and her swollen tongue hanging obscenely from her mouth, the girl moaned, “Sen…pai!”
The good-looking student screamed in a high-pitched manner, but that scream was cut short when she shoved her bloody mouth against his screaming lips. Tears welled up in his eyes as she bit down and took more than his innocence.
Scott dodged grasping hands as several zombies came for him in various states of undress. Breasts and manly bits flapped wildly as they staggered in search of their meal. The first floor of the classroom building was completely overrun. Only the orgiastic feast kept the zombies busy enough to prevent them from killing the precious few survivors who were still struggling to survive.
What he thought to be the front door was completely out of reach. Piles of squirming flesh and wriggling limbs blocked his route. He could only run off to the right and hope to find a way out.
A zombified woman in high-heels staggered out of a room up ahead of him. Scott did not slow his run. When she saw him, she moaned loudly and reached for him. Pale discolored breasts jiggled in a parody of enticement as she staggered drunkenly in his direction.
He rushed sideways and scraped against a row of lockers to avoid her grasping hands. Hissing due to the pain, he tried to ignore the throbbing from his side and arm.
“Dar…ling…” moaned the woman in a pained voice. She staggered drunkenly after him, somehow remaining on her undead feet despite the fact that she wore heels. It was bad enough that the zombies were oversexed perverts, but they could even talk!
He turned a corner and ran into another female zombie in search of food, sex, or both. Just like nearly everyone he had seen; she would have been quite attractive a few hours prior. At the moment, she looked like that one drunk chick at the party who you just knew would hurl the moment you tried to make out with her.
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