No Peace for the Hero Prologue
By Cain
"Are you sure of this," the professor demanded, his voice echoing along the silver corridor. He and his assistant, Rick, were walking at a brisk pace toward the lab that held the subject of their conversation. When his assistant nodded, the professor continued, "And how old do you say this video is?"
"Two thousand years, sir... give or take. At least that's what the carbon daters told me."
The professor shook his head, as the very idea of a video tape dating back to the year 1000 AD was preposterous. Still, he wanted to see what was on it. Professor Philip Johnson was nothing if not thorough. "And where did you say it was found again?"
Rick pulled out his notepad, and flipped through his notes briefly. "They say it was... buried... well, hidden behind a wall in the Truce science museum. Yesterday, the wall suddenly exploded outward, luckily not injuring anyone. There was apparently a bomb there. We've found pieces of what looked like a timer, as well. By the evidence, I'd say someone wanted that bomb to explode yesterday."
"So why was I called?"
"Well, sir, apparently... your name was on it."
Johnson stopped, phased for a moment. "My name? Literally or figuratively?"
"Well... literally."
Johnson raised an eyebrow, and started walking again. "We'll see about that."
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Hey. Here I am, watching this scene replay again. It seems like it only happened yesterday, because it did. But I just keep hoping that by watching this security tape, I'll get a clue as to his whereabouts. Whose, you may ask? Well, just watch and see.
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Johnson and Rick walked into the room. It was a mess, as always. Dust was everywhere, despite the Janitor's best attempts to clean the place. This was the room where fossils and such were examined, and the dirt always had to be brushed off, leaving the room perpetually dirty. Johnson never had been able to fathom what interested people when it came to old, dirty bones. Which was why he was head of research at the physics department at the university. Much cleaner, and, in his opinion, infinitely more interesting.
But something was different about this room, now. Along with all the old bones, and tiny tools, was a television. It was small, but looked like it would do well enough. It was one of those televisions that had a VCR incorporated into the set itself. Good. Johnson hated trying to operate VCR's. No matter what your occupation, from check-out clerk, to Physics professor, no one knew even the tiniest inkling about them, except for the expensive and unreliable cable men.
Spying the tape on top of the set, he pulled it down and examined it. It looked like an ordinary tape, but very old. His name was indeed written on the piece of paper fastened to the tape, including his middle name, Thomas. This was obviously some sort of joke, but he would play along for now. Maybe someone had remembered that his birthday was last week, and this was a belated party... Nah. No one really liked him enough to do that for him, except maybe his girlfriend, Julia. But she probably wouldn't have remembered his birthday. He wasn't going out with her for her intelligence.
Finally, he popped in the tape, and, finding the remote control, pressed play. He sat down against the nearest table, getting his pants dirty in the process, and motioned for Rick to sit beside him. After a moment of blackness, the tape began.
On the screen was a young man, possibly eighteen years old. He was red-headed, his hair hanging in floppy spikes. It was obvious he shaved very thoroughly, as Johnson couldn't distinguish any facial hair. He looked like a nice enough kid. His expression wasn't nice, however. It was serious, and a bit worried. The boy's lips began to move, but no sound came forth. Johnson pressed the pause button, and then rewound it a bit. He then turned the volume up, and once again pressed play.
"Hello," the voice came out loud and clear. It was a pleasant voice, deep, and confident. "My name, as you might or might not have guessed, is Crono. I am one of the seven responsible for the death of the creature known as Lavos, that rose from the planet about a year ago, for me." Johnson raised an eyebrow. He'd gotten very few reports on the creature that had risen and subsequently died. He had, however, heard of evidence that something had damaged it internally, resulting in something similar to a heart attack. Of course, that was just hearsay, because he didn't even know if the creature had a heart. After its death, it started to disintegrate. Only some of it was saved by the government. The young man continued, "Now, this 'tape' was recorded in the year 1002 AD, as my friend Lucca tells me you've probably figured out. We made this tape to give you a warning, Professor Philip Thomas Johnson. Hide." Johnson raised an eyebrow. "Run. Get away. You are being hunted. I don't yet know why, but I intend to find out. What's important is that you get away, and make sure no one can find you. Beware, Johnson. If you see a man with long blue hair-" The tape cut off here, abruptly.
Johnson blinked, and turned to Rick. "What kind of joke is this?"
Rick turned to him, and opened his mouth to reply. But instead of words, only blood came out of his mouth. They both looked down, to see a burnt hole in the assistant's chest, where his heart had been. Without any more sound, Rick fell from the table. Johnson, until now silent with horror, finally screamed, and jumped up. He turned to run from the room, but stopped, when he saw what stood in the doorway.
A man stood there silent. But the electricity flowing over his arm said enough. He had killed Rick. The man reached up with his other hand to brush a lock of fair, blue hair out of his eyes, and smiled. Johnson was paralyzed by his very presence, his pointed ears, his fangs, his red eyes, and his chalk-white skin. Finally, the man spoke, softly, yet with a definite threat to it, "Oh, no joke, Professor Johnson. I've come for your... assistance. You will lend it to me, yes?" Johnson stood there, and blinked. "Good," said the man, "very good. Now, do come along, Professor... unless you want to see more of my... handiwork."
The professor nodded, and walked through the door, soon to be followed by the man.
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Well, there you have it. That son of an imp kidnapped him. Oh, and when I did finally get there, I found more than half the people-professors, students, everyone-dead. It's a sight no one should ever have to see, believe me. But, I did manage to get this tape, which has, thus far, proved useless. So, I suppose I'd better get started trying to find them-what's that? You don't know the story so far? Oh, well I suppose I have time to tell it to you, although I suppose we'll just have to find out the ending together, as even I don't know it. Who am I, you ask? You should know that by now.
My name is Crono.
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