Prologue
Prologue
'Storms. I love storms.' I thought idly to myself as I watched the roiling clouds pass turbulently overhead, 'At least I don't have to listen to the people across the street fighting.' It was true, the rising wind drowned out the sounds of arguing that were so prevalent from the houses across the street. One side of 38th St. was The Complex, while the other side was nothing but cheap rundown townhouses. It was the proverbial division between the 'classes' of people, 'As if such a thing mattered in the grand scheme of one's life.' I thought.
I was standing on a slightly raised concrete median between the entrance ramp and exit ramp of a parking garage. Said garage was five levels of resident only, decal controlled parking set onto one side of the road, the 'nicer' side of the road, some said, in the Downtown area of Norfolk Va.
This was The Complex, an Old Dominion College student-only apartment complex, hence the name. The Complex was divided into two buildings one on 38th St. and one on 39th St. The two halves were connected by a sky bridge on the 3rd floor which span across 39th St. Each of the buildings was made of red brick, stood four stories tall, and liberally dotted with windows, indicating each room in the apartments.
Building One was divided into two equally-sized halves with the parking garage nestled between them. Each half of the building was four stories tall and encircled a 200 foot wide courtyard. One of the courtyards held a huge swimming pool with a plethora of spaces to sunbathe, cook on the grill, or just sit in the sun sipping on a beer with one's friends. The pool area was connected to the rest of the building by way of The Clubhouse. The Clubhouse was a Common Area where any resident could go to play a game of Pool or lounge on one of the many couches and watch anything you wanted on one of the eight wall-mounted plasma televisions. The other courtyard was like a natural paradise. It had actual trees, they were sparse, young, and thin but they were trees. The rest of the courtyard was vibrant green complete with benches, walkways, real grass, and barbecue grills. The balconies of the apartments either overlooked the green courtyard or looked out to the grimy city beyond. The ones that overlooked the courtyard were in high demand and always sold first. Each half of Building One held sixty-five individual apartments and each apartment held three or four rooms, depending on how much rent the residents paid.
Building Two wasn't as lucky, it was newer. The one courtyard it had was only covered with grass and benches and pea gravel walkways. There was no shade from the sun in the summer unless one brought a parasol. The apartments in Building Two were not as expensive as the apartments in Building One, but the apartments in Building Two were always occupied.
As for the parking garage itself, it was made of solid blocks of grey, prefabricated, steel-rebar reinforced concrete. The entrance ramp sloped up from the street, which sat thirty feet away, and featured two speed bumps to deter drivers from speeding within. The entrance gate itself was made of bluish grey, square steel bars set apart by three inches of empty space and held in place by a more solid set of steel tresses in the same bluish grey. The gate was a noisy mechanical monster which squeaked and squealed every time it moved, which was often. It was one of the types that slid not on a horizontal track on the ground but on a horizontal track nestled up against the ceiling. The track was fifteen feet long and the gate went from vertical to horizontal as it was pulled forcefully back by the high-torque motor and chain it came equipped with. The entrance was set twenty feet back into the garage, surrounded by more of the bluish grey steel bars, it provided an overhang to shield incoming vehicles from inclement weather.
The exit gate on the other hand, came right up to the side of the garage. The exit gate, shared an identical construction as its counterpart at the entrance, opened in an identical manner also. The exit gate was automated and activated by highly attuned pressure sensors in the concrete. The pressure sensors were so highly attuned they often wouldn't activate for motor-scooters or motorcycles at all.
There I stood, between the entrance and exit, six days a week, from 3 p.m. till 11 p.m. I had to stay standing the whole time, it was in the contract. I was a subcontracted Security Officer assigned to ensure that only those who had the 50$ extra per month, were parked in the garage.
To say that my job was mind-numbingly boring would have been a gross understatement. I knew I could handle it though, having more than nine years of experience in Security work. The time was 8:21 p.m. I only had two hours and thirty-nine minutes left before my shift ended. It was very comfortable for early August. A gentle wind had kept me cool through the eighty-nine degree weather and ninety percent humidity. The gentle wind had given way to a billowing, gusting wind that had accompanied the incoming storm.
As a Security Officer, my uniform was a black, long-sleeved shirt with the company logo patch on the left shoulder and an American flag patch on the right. A golden colored thread badge-patch hung over my left breast pocket and my brass name tag hung over my right. My pants were long, with the bottom of each leg tucked into my black boots. It was the standard-issue uniform for all Security Officers who worked for the company.
The radio clipped to my right shoulder crackled to life, "Brinsin to El-Tee." the transmission ended.
A moment later, it crackled to life again, "Lieutenant Joyner here, go."
I recognized these two voices as my Lt. and one of my fellow Officers. Brinsin was one of the youngest Officer on the site at twenty-seven years old. He was a good soul though. Standing at 5' 3" his height was not particularly imposing, however he made up for it with his build. Brinsin was stocky but by no means overweight whatsoever. His arms, legs, chest, and stomach were well-toned without being excessively bulky. He might not have been the tallest African American friend I had, but he had sound judgement, carried himself with calm dignity, and I would sooner have him watch my back than many others. His hair was dark-brown instead of black, cut short, and his eyes were, unsurprisingly, dark brown.
Lt. Joyner, was only 28, but his rank was well earned. He stood 5' 10" with short-cut sandy blond hair, a surfer's tan, and blue eyes. A former NAVY enlisted man, he was probably one of, if not, the least intimidating person on the sight. His strength lay in his ability to convince anyone of anything if he put his mind to it. He was passable in a fight but he rarely needed to exercise that skill. Built with the boyish good looks and athletic build of a pro-surfer, many ladies loved him and many men envied him. He was the sort of person who never raised his voice or lost his temper because he didn't have to. Everyone around him simply obeyed him because he was the sort of person you wanted to obey.
Brinsin came over the radio again, "Lieutenant, the news is sayin' we're goin' to get hammered tonight. Got a powerful storm comin' in off the ocean near N.O.B. that's supposed to have been causin' lightnin', tornados, and hail."
"Is it the same one that was supposedly 'altered' by that solar-flare earlier today?" Lt. Joyner asked in return.
"Same one." Brinsin replied.
A new voice came over the radio, "Ooh, better watch out every body, it's 'radiation rain', ooh!" the voice chuckled, "Why do every body always get spooked out anytime radiation is mentioned? We got radiation all around us 24-7. What do you think a sun-burn is? It's mild epidermal radiation poisonin'."
That was a voice I knew well, Officer Calvin. Calvin was one of the largest men I had ever known. Everything about Calvin was simple, except his mind. He was simply black, simply 6' 7", simply 352 lbs., simply built like a brick shit-house, simply congenial, and simply terrifying if he was coming at you. His immense size belied a deeply philosophical mind and friendly, outgoing demeanor.
"Let's try to keep the chatter to a minimum gentlemen." Lt Joyner replied.
"Aye-aye El-Tee." Calvin responded with a chuckle.
"Joyner to all officers. Everyone get your coats and put them in the office for when we do our exterior patrols. Pering disregard."
Pering would be me. Daniel Pering legally, or 'Crash Course' to my friends. I stand 5' 11", caucasian male, 31 years old, receding hairline, brown hair, and hazel eyes. I was 309 lbs., rather pudgy, but deceptively flexible for a fat guy. I wasn't the oldest Officer on the site, that honor went to Jewel at forty-two.
There were eleven of us at The Complex that night. Everyone patrolled the two buildings that made up The Complex. Everyone except me. The entire roster was Lt. Joyner, Sgt. Ludwig, Jewel, Calvin, Brinsin, Richardson, Massonete, Spearman, Vacca, Hord, and I. Out of all of us, Richardson was the only female while Joyner, Ludwig, Jewel, Vacca, Hord, and I made up 'The Cracker Brigade'. Despite the title, all of us recognized each other as equals. Once in uniform, ethnic background and gender only made someone easier to identify.
'If only the residents thought that way.' I mentally groused to myself. Roughly 1/2 of the residents of The Complex were rich kids, most of whom were caucasian, with the other half being mostly lower class African American young people who had worked hard to obtain scholarships or found jobs to pay for their own education. Kissing the collective backsides of the rich kids was my responsibly. Some of the higher income kids, felt entitled to do and say whatever they pleased because their parents had money. I couldn't stand those types and the rest of the team couldn't have agreed more.
Of course the rich kids weren't the only ones to give us issues. Many of the students and residents from lower income families had been brought up with the mindset that anyone in a uniform, especially white people in uniform, could never be trusted. 'The Man' was always willing and more than happy to gun down poor people and especially black people because we were corrupted by power.
Honestly, in both cases, I had always thought the cause for the two different mentality was prejudice and racism just with different names since being openly racist was socially frowned upon. To say that either side was completely justified or unjustified in their beliefs or mentalities would be incorrect since the basis for all stereotypes tends to be at least a tiny grain of truth. In reality the rich kids could often get away with more because their parents could bribe most people into ignoring bad behavior. It was crooked and dishonest but that's the way the world worked. By the same token, poor people were frequently treated badly by Police and personally I couldn't blame folks for being cautious. It was simple. People needed something or someone to blame for their problems because very few people had enough character to realize the vast majority of their problems were their own fault.
The fun part of my job was alerting the rest of the team whenever the trouble kids were preparing to party. To us, it couldn't matter less, how much or how little money a resident had. A resident was a resident, end of story. Everyone bleed a human blood type so we didn't give the notion any undue consideration. We all had our jobs to do. My primary responsibility was using an electronic 'clicker' to raise and lower the parking garage doors for the residents.
A well-polished, black Chevy Colorado pulled up to the gate. Their parking decal easily visible in the front windshield. I clicked the button and the gate slowly began to rise. I watched the truck as the gate cycled. Music blasted out of the open windows while rich college students, both male and female cheered, yelled, hollered, screamed, and drank. 'There has to be eleven kids in that damn truck. Four in the cab, all slurping suds and seven in the bed, also drinking beer. Joy.' I paused my thoughts and rolled my eyes at the goings-on in the bed, 'Oh look, one of the girls just took her top off and she's not wearing a bra. Yes boys, those are her breasts . . . and now there's a guy's mouth attacked to each one. Fantastic. It's like they've never seen an attractive female topless before. Go figure, they're all white kids.'
I clicked the radio as the truck pulled past, "Pering to Joyner."
"Joyner here, go."
"Who has Building One, south side, third and fourth floor?" I asked.
"That would be Spearman." Joyner radioed back.
"10-4, Pering to Spearman."
"Spearman here, what's up Pering?"
"Apartment 407 just pulled in with guests. Guests are both sexes and already drunk, rowdy, and stripping."
"Boobs?" Spearman asked.
"Boobs." I replied.
"Spearman to Richardson and Calvin."
"Richardson here, go."
"Got a large number of intoxicated people heading to apartment 407, both sexes, rowdy and amorous."
"10-4 on my way."
"Calvin here, I copy. On my way."
"This is Masonete, I've got eyes on a black Colorado. Multiple people, all drunk. Looks like the beginnings of another orgy out here."
"Calvin here, I'm on it."
"Richardson here, I'll take care of it."
"Spearman here, on my way."
Lightning flashed overhead, illuminating the entire garage like daylight, the accompanying sound of the thunder was almost deafening. I flinched back involuntarily as the lightning struck the street, less than forty feet from where I was standing.
*clink*
I scarcely heard the sound over the ringing in my ears. I looked down and saw a marble-sized piece of hail lying on the asphalt, just a few inches from the median on which I was perched. I peered at the diminutive shard of ice with puzzlement. Hail was rare in Virginia. I could count on one hand the number of time I had seen it.
*clack*
I winced and clutched my hands over the upper portion of my face, shielding my eyes and forehead while grunting in pain. Looking around, I spotted a golf-ball sized chunk of hail lying broken on the ground. I clicked the button on my fob and stepped under the overhang of the garage, rubbing my head ruefully.
*CLUNK*
'That one's the size of a baseball! I'm out of here!' I ducked under the overhang just as hail started pouring down in a torrent. The pieces ranged between the size of a marble and a grapefruit. I heard the first window break after only a few seconds. I could hear glass shattering from every direction as car alarms blared loudly up and down the roadway. Looking across the street at one of the many dozens of cars parked on the side of the road, I saw that all four windows were broken and the front and back windshields were cracked. Car alarms blared, their sirens all but drowned out by the cacophony of falling hail. Lightning flashed every few seconds and peals of thunder overlapped each other, sounding like a constant roar.
I watched with fear-inspired awe and only just barely heard the radio as reports began pouring in, "This is Jewel, I need an ambulance! I've got a resident in the hallway suffering from blunt trauma and glass cuts! I'm just outside of apartment 322!"
"Officer down!" I identified the alarmed voice as Richardson easily, "Masonete's been struck multiple times with large hail! Parking garage level 5!"
"This is Hord, have three residents in the courtyard of Building 2! Multiple injuries! Laceratioms and blunt trauma!"
"Vacca to all Officers, I've got two residents in the pool, both with injuries, one unconscious lying at the bottom, moving to retrieve and begin C.P.R.!"
I whipped my Galaxy S II cell phone out of my left hip pocket to call 911, "FUCKING DAMNIT!"
I clicked on my radio but had to shout over the sounds of hail, thunder, shattering glass, and car alarms, "Pering here, can't call E.M.S. no reception! Anyone have eyes on a land line?"
"Ludwig to Pering, hold tight I've got one." Ludwig was always calm, and by extension he calmed everyone else around him.
Relief flooded through me as I sighed heavily. Ludwig never let us down. He was always reliable like that. I touched my head, wincing at my hyper-sensitive skin. My fingers came away clean, thankfully, but I could feel a rising bump.
"Land line is a no-go. Anyone have a 1st aid kit handy?" I could scarcely hear Ludwig over the noise.
My previous feeling of relief was replaced with a sense of urgency as I clicked on the radio once more, "Pering here, I've got one and there should be one in the Leasing Office, one in Maintenance, and one in the Security Office. Permission to leave the gate L.T.?"
"Granted," Joyner came over the radio.
I bolted into a run. My 2005, royal blue Dodge Neon was parked on the second floor so I had to use the stairs.
I could hear Lt. Joyner calling out instructions as I went, "Calvin get to Richardson and Masonete, 5th level parking garage. Move Masonete to safety if at all possible. Pering grab your 1st aid kit and get to Jewel in front of 322. Ludwig and Brinsin grab the 1st aid kit from the Security Office and get to Hord. Vacca, what's the status on those residents in the pool area?"
"Residents are in the Clubhouse. One has a serious cranial laceration, but is conscious. The other is unconscious, but I managed to resuscitate her. She has a long laceration from the left side of her jaw to her temple. I'm close to the Leasing Office, but it's locked. Request emergency permission to break in and retrieve the 1st aid kit."
"Granted. We'll deal with repercussions later."
I fiddled with my keys as I approached my vehicle. It was always breaking down in one way or another and was costing my wife and I a small fortune to keep the damned thing running. I ignored the driver's side door and headed straight for the trunk, trying to fit the key into the lock. Lightning flashed, illuminating the entire garage, not a shadow to be seen. I raised my left arm to shield my eyes, expecting to hear thunder.
I heard nothing.
There was no sound, none at all. The light maintained its illumination and brightness for what had to have been more than 30 seconds. I stood in place in stunned silence, unable to move. The ground suddenly began to violently shake. I lost my balance and fell over. My head struck the concrete and I tried to yell. Only eerie silence met me. Then, the rumbling began.
It started out low but quickly increased in volume. The light intensified and I squinted my eyes as the rumbling became a deafening roar.
Suddenly the world went black.
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I love it so far. though shouldn't the $ sign be in front of the number?
Oh and one more thing......
I finally get to post the first comment
Nice so fare a bit of heavy detail in the begin but once that's out of the way well I'm glad I stuck with it lets see where it go's.
I now know what I'm going to be doing for the next week or so...
[notices sequel]
... month.
29.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lilje93qT91qeklaco1_250.jpg Hail in Virginia?? The fuck??encrypted-tbn3.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcTbGzzYWEhSLmBrz7zwx1LgBolNJHCrd6UY0boTkYaqVTeQUC7fUQ
One of the best intro's I have read which still use the "...and X blacked out".
I love realism.
i was suspicious of this story, but god damn was that intro brilliant. This is why people do cliches like this, done well, they're amazing
You have my attention!
I struggled to get through the first half of this chapter because I was getting a lot of description of things I didn't need like the physical appearance of characters who don't actually appear in the chapter outside of their voices. I also don't feel it was necessary to go into depth on every single detail of the campus, I assume most of this story takes place in Equestria so unless the entire campus got transported with them, that info dump seemed unnecessary.
The second half was considerably better with the freak (most likely magical) hail storm and it piqued my interest. What or who caused it and was it on-purpose or an accident? If it was deliberate then why attack a school of all things? It's enough to get me to continue even though the characters seem really cliche at the moment. Hope that improves as the story goes along.
6976454
I must agree. The descriptions were far too cumbersome. They were massive walls of text and seemed very out of place. Also, I noticed some missing punctuation.
Also, the preaching of racial and class issues was kind of unnecessary. That kind of thing should have been saved for for exposition during actual interactions.
Finally... Swimming in an outdoor pool during a thunderstorm? Just... Ugh.
But... It's a prologue. I'll see where it goes from here.
I kinda liked it.
That gets the barest of basic descriptions and personalities out of the way right from the start, so the characters are established from the beginning.
Comment #2
Prologue down. Read. Examined.
orig08.deviantart.net/5e31/f/2012/121/8/d/twilight_sparkle_and_a_good_book_by_latecustomer-d4y5om9.png
I have gotta say, first and foremost, I really love the way you described things in this chapter.
For example:
Or.
I just really appreciate that extra effort you know?. That is exactly how I would have described these things and you paint such a vivid picture with those descriptions.
If you are actually an Australian or New Zealander then I know I'm going to have a world of fun with you. 
Of course, I will have fun with you anyway 
Don't think I missed your little slip up though. 'Built like a brick shit house' indeed.
On the other hand, or hoof as it were, I noticed this little slip up, just thought I would pass it on.
I think you meant 'attached to each one' or 'attacking each one'.
Im guessing because you put guy as a plural, that you meant two guys attached or attacking each breast.
By the by, this little tid-bit...
Damn... You walked a VERY fine line
But overall, I am really enjoying your writing style and the plot (no pun intended of course
) seems to be progressing smoothly. Take my like and favorite. 
Onwards, to the next Chapter laddies'!
derpicdn.net/img/2014/7/4/667075/full.jpeg
another?!
You've got a real polished story here-- very well-described and I can really get into your style of writing. Your use of voice with each character is very well done. My only criticisms are the questionable commas.
Don't be afraid to use semi-colons when you're connecting two vaguely related houghts into a sentence. Granted, this just my opinion. We each have a way we write and this is not a glaring issue at all. Overall, this is a really good way to start off your story. Well done.
Also:
I'd use "dammit", but again that's not a big deal.
Off to a good start! The tension between the different "classes" of kids is relatable, seeing as that isn't too uncommon of a thing in the college living system. I like the detail you put into describing not only where this all took place, but who these people were. granted, it was mostly physical appearances, bit it gives it at least a sense of difference between the characters other than their names. Also, the storm had a gave a nice feeling of tension after the calmness of the officer's interactions and general description. Hail really is no joke, especially at that size!
One of my only qualms is that there are so many names thrown out in such a short period, and only a few were explored in any sort of depth. At the beginning of the storm when some were talking about what state the students were in, I found myself asking: "Which one is that, again?" I understand that, as a prologue, the objective is to introduce the characters to Equestria in a timely manner so as not to bore the reader with non-pony-world stuff, but it was a lot of names with not much else to differentiate them (besides those you described).
Still, an engaging start!
Oh, hey, look at that. An info-dump about a bunch of random architecture. None of which there is any reason to care about. Guess how long I will remember any of that? Go on, guess.
Also, huh. Security firms use military ranks? Apparently this is a real thing.
7797331 Yes, they do, most of them anyway.
You certainly have a way with words. A wonderful start to the book, you pulled me in without even trying. I would suggest looking over your descriptions of the setting and buildings, maybe trim them a bit. Too much detail can be just as bad as not enough, leaving your reader impatient and bored as they try to skip to where they think the actual story starts. Other than that, great start. I'll do my best to give your work an honest look-over.
See you next chapter,
Shadow Quill, Messenger of the Moon.
8106782
Agreed. Had to skim over the building descriptions.
Improper capitalization drove me nuts, just like it did the other two times I've read this story. For instance: one's occupation doesn't need to be capitalized. He's a security officer, not a Security Officer. The names of buildings is okay, I suppose, but the areas within aren't. Something like "The Clubhouse" absolutely fits, because its most likely a proper noun. "Common Area" on the other hand, looks like it does not.
If I remember correctly, the descriptiveness tapers off to a very happy medium as this story gets rolling, and the improper capitalization is admittedly a minor nitpick.
All that aside, if you can push through a tiny little bit of stuff like that, and if memory serves there isn't much), this story is an absolute page turner. I enjoyed it immensely the first two times around and I'm sure I will again.
9988971 Thank you for the kind words. I would say more, but I am sick right now.
The first seven paragraphs do not arouse interest, I even had to force myself to read! Are all these details really so important to the story?
When I read this prologue, I got the impression that this site doesn't make sense. We seem to be writing about ponies here. Therefore, I believe that the prologue should contain exactly Equestria in order to leave the intrigue for the reader. But really, I'm not interested in reading about what a security officer looks like. There are many details, but they all cause boredom.
'If only the residents thought that way.' I mentally groused to myself. Roughly 1/2 of the residents of The Complex were rich kids, most of whom were caucasian, with the other half being mostly lower class African American young people who had worked hard to obtain scholarships or found jobs to pay for their own education. Kissing the collective backsides of the rich kids was my responsibly. Some of the higher income kids, felt entitled to do and say whatever they pleased because their parents had money. I couldn't stand those types and the rest of the team couldn't have agreed more.
Yes, it's sad. After all, it's like working as a prostitute.
A well-polished, black Chevy Colorado pulled up to the gate. Their parking decal easily visible in the front windshield. I clicked the button and the gate slowly began to rise. I watched the truck as the gate cycled. Music blasted out of the open windows while rich college students, both male and female cheered, yelled, hollered, screamed, and drank. 'There has to be eleven kids in that damn truck. Four in the cab, all slurping suds and seven in the bed, also drinking beer. Joy.' I paused my thoughts and rolled my eyes at the goings-on in the bed, 'Oh look, one of the girls just took her top off and she's not wearing a bra. Yes boys, those are her breasts . . . and now there's a guy's mouth attacked to each one. Fantastic. It's like they've never seen an attractive female topless before. Go figure, they're all white kids.'
When you have free time, edit this paragraph. Look closely. Somewhere you need to use oblique text, and maybe divide this paragraph into two parts.
But the second half of the Prologue, I already liked it. In general, I like when a tense situation is described.
11128430 HA! Thank you. If you like tense scenes, there will be plenty throughout the story.
It was the proverbial division between the 'classes' of people, 'As if such a thing mattered in the grand scheme of one's life.' I thought.
Okay, he's from that "class" of people.
11130256 What do you mean by that? Your statement is confusing. It is unclear what 'class' you are referring to.
11130567
That "class" of people who think that they belong to the "class" of people that know that "classes" are not present.
Yes, yes, I love recursion.
I always come back to this story one of the best on site nice and long
11536764 Well thank you. Sorry for not posting anything for a while. My Dad has Alzheimer's and I moved to Colorado Springs to help he and Mom.