A/N: First and, hopefully, only author's note; let there be cheering from the villages, walloping in the stables and festivities in the drainage area where all the chambermaids gather to see the delivery men load ice into the kitchen!
That's the kind of enthusiasm I have over this being the only author's note. Really messes with my flow in the story as a reader, y'know?
So. This. This thing. This glorious, gobsmacking, helluva bastard of a thing. My first story. The reason I joined this site. When I post this, it'll have been six years ago. A lot of words have flown in the water under the bridge that was, is and will be Flywheel but this is the source. This template is, quite possibly, what turned me into the writer I am today. I owe almost everything to it. While a lot of stories, written as unwritten, have become lost in the sea of time, this one always remained. It changed, I added and retracted, but I never gave up hope. This rewrite, this remake, came to be in 2012.
Now, five years after I last touched it, it returns. Flywheel's first story: 'Ed, Edd n Eddy feat Digimon', a temporary title that never changed before now.
I'm droning on and I apologize; never knew I'd get this nostalgic.
Either way, the problem with this story was that it originally followed the exact story of Digimon Adventure (season 1) with EEnE characters thrown in which meant that there were no surprises for the reader. There was nothing new, nothing exciting. So, hopefully I can remedy that now.
With one eye on the past and one eye on the horizon that is the future, which includes a continuation of the first and second Digimon seasons (words probably can't describe how much my inner child is rejoicing over that), sit back and take part in a riveting tale that is finally coming together.
This is how it all began.
Book One: Fissures dans les Ténèbres
Disclaimer: I solemnly swear that I am up to no good and claim no ownership to either of the franchises 'Digimon' or 'Ed, Edd n Eddy'
It was a surprisingly warm day for late October. It was one of those days when it feels like nature is about to let go completely of the warm summer months and embrace the cold winter times so why not give it one last push?
Familiarly, the sun was showering a small community with its rays. A community known by the name of Peach Creek in the San Francisco area.
Peach Creek could just as easily have been located... Anywhere in the United States, anywhere in the entire world. It consisted of a main street with small shops; candy, groceries, tools, cafes and such. There was the enormous school building that contained every grade from kindergarten to senior year of high school. The rest of the area was occupied by flora, fauna and cul-de-sacs. Cul-de-sacs, each equipped with long rows of houses. Houses, each equipped with families; hard working parents, one or two children and lawns. Lawns, mostly well kept and with sprinklers. Sprinklers, swaying back and forth, spraying rays of water across the grass. Grass that was perfect to lie down in and stare up at the clouds.
But the majority of the inhabitants of Peach Creek never did take the time to lie down in the sprinkler moist grass that covered the lawns of their houses. Or any other patches of grass for that matter. Most of them would consider it a waste of time for dreamers and imaginers who had nothing to do but to point out to either his friend or to himself that the cloud over there did indeed look like the steam strain pushing the DeLorean up to 88 miles per hour in 'Back to the Future III'.
Yes sir, staring at the clouds and imagining was nothing for the majority of Peach Creek. But then there was the minority. The street that had always stuck out like a sore thumb, where the lawns grew uncontrollably at times, where farm animals strolling down the sidewalk was second nature and where screams and explosions weren't met with so much as a raised eyebrow.
Rethink Avenue was special. Mostly because of the people living there. Or, three of the children living there in their separate houses with separate lawns that grew at uncontrollable speeds thanks to Montezuma's Free Range Manure. Without the three living there on Rethink Avenue, it would have been any other street in any other city in any other country. And without the three of them sprawled out in the grass that afternoon, the whole of creation would have ended.
You see, this story is part of an even greater narrative so I could obviously start at a number of points; a couple of locations and a couple of times. Of course, most stories choose to start at the very beginning but the very beginning to this story was lost even at the beginning, resulting in us being unable to start at the very beginning of the great perspective.
We could start at the beginning but I would bet you have already been told that part of the story; seven kids at summer camp? Just as with what happened four years before and three years after said beginning... And unless you'd like to travel inter-dimensionally, there are four other parts we can just skip all together that doesn't bother this story. Yet.
Why don't we just agree upon that very afternoon?
Fantastic; we're on our way! Now we got the 'when'; now we just need the 'where'.
There's a faraway prison where the early stages of a devastating plan were set in motion. The peaceful landscapes suddenly overwhelmed with ferocious warriors of darkness, all with an endless thirst for blood and a burning desire for revenge in them. Then there are the lands turned desolated by the death and destruction of a war no one anticipated. The mountain top where an aged guardian converses with beings of power equally, if not greater, than gods. The house where he's contemplating breaking the last seal. And of course, there's always Cincinnati where a young man keeps playing his bagpipes, blindfolded, while his mother bangs on his door to cut out the ruckus because her book club are discussing the very latest Stephen King novel.
If you are still with me through all this terrible nonsense, I applaud you.
I was just dragging you along to see if you are genuinely interested in this story; a story that could only begin at one point in space and time; closer to the end of the great perspective than the beginning, under a chestnut tree on Rethink Avenue, quarter to four when a short jingle was heard.
"Damn, I am blowing up today!" It was under that chestnut tree three young men were situated; one with his back against the tree, one on his back in the grass and one sitting on his jacket with his face buried in a book. The one sitting against the tree pulled out his smartphone.
"Eddy, you received two texts today; one from Ed alerting us that we would find him here and one from the phone company telling you to pay your-"
"Get back to your book, Shakespeare!" The book wielding one rolled his eyes but did indeed resume reading.
"Roses are red, violets are blue..." The one sprawled out in the grass was staring up at the clouds in amazement; feeling one with Earth and its rotation. In his youth, he was deemed 'special'. Now? An increase in his intelligence along with the proper medications had left him a distant young man, longing for more than what there was. Seeing the world, exciting experiences; the sort of things that subside once you realize that your childhood has passed and you're being thrown headfirst into the harsh world of the adults. His parents however blamed it on his autistic state of- Wait. No, sorry; did I say-? I do apologize, dear reader; I can be so very human sometime. Of course, his parents blamed it on his artistic state of mind, claiming that he was merely exaggerating his pubertal emotions to the maximum.
"Don't you start now, Donatello!" I would say some introductions are in order, don't you?
'Donatello' or 'the artistic one' is Ed. Many would believe it's short for Edward and they would be partially correct; once upon a time his full first name had been Edward. He, however, changed it to just Ed once he turned eighteen as a sign of the simpler things in life. While he in his hyperactive youth might've preferred monster movies, explosions and an empty plate with a side of gravy; his older, calmer self enjoyed writing, painting and... Sculpting. Sculpting it says in my notes here. Who the hell sculpts? Painting I get, writing I certainly get but why would one- Sorry; Ed wrote, painted and sculpted in his free time as a way to rid himself of his thoughts, his longings. Oh, he sculpted; the Donatello remark makes more sense now!
'Shakespeare', the fellow with the book, was more commonly known by his nickname 'Double-D' due to the two ds in his full name 'Eddward'. Still the everlasting scientist and philosopher, his expressionless manners and almost OCD-like symptoms were resolved after a few years of therapy and a father turned unemployed turned employed at a less stressful and time consuming job.
The one against the tree was Eddy McGee, a just below average height young man and just below average grades but with dreams to match the moon. After learning things the harsh way, his self centered and egotistical mannerisms were toned down drastically. That didn't mean Eddy McGee wasn't still cocky and confident in his own actions; he knew damn well that one day... One day, he'd amount to something. Something great. Or so he hoped.
On this one October afternoon, Eddy McGee pulled out his smartphone and as he pressed the screen to open the message he had received, something peculiar happened. Actually, a whole row of peculiar events occurred. Five to be precise.
The first, and at the time most noticeable, was that his screen suddenly glitched. Not in an 'everything jumps five feet to the right before returning to normal' way but rather in a 'sudden vortex of ones and zeroes for a good three seconds before the screen turns black' sort of manner.
"What the- Some bastard sent me a virus!" Eddy shook the phone, pressing the button that usually turned the device on or off but the screen remained dark.
"Did you click a dodgy link for free adult material again?" Double-D barely bothered to look over the edge of his book, this not being the first time his friend had put himself in a situation of technological mishap due to clicking things he shouldn't without proper protection.
"It was once. Once. And no; I just tried to open a text when the whole thing turned into some kind of Matrix-rip off screensaver!"
"Good grief..." Pinching the bridge of his nose and sighing heavily, Double-D carefully closed the book around a bookmark and extended his hand. "Let me have a look then."
"Dad's gonna be hang me if the damn thing's dead; he's still grumbling about the last one that I dropped in the can." Eddy tossed the phone into the intellectual's fumbling hands before jumping to his side, worriedly eyeing the device.
"Had you not been trying to attempt taking a self-portrait while-"
"For the last time, I was drunk!"
"At least you remembered to flush first..."
While the two were huddled over the phone, bickering about old matters, Ed was still staring up at the clouds; if Double-D wouldn't be able to fix the problem, there was little chance that he could. Scratching his chin thoughtfully, he began to wonder what they would do later. Lounging around in the grass with good friends was definitely a great way to spend your time but he was starting to feel like they should be doing more with their limited time together; knowing that college was just around the bend once the days became shorter and colder made moments like those invaluable. Maybe they should go on a trip. They did have the old retro van that had been lying around the junkyard until they, mostly Double-D, had repaired it to working order. Drive to Phoenix for a couple of days, just to get out of town. Yeah, that would be nice.
In an alternate universe, the three Eds' probably did go to Phoenix for five days or so and they probably did have a damned good time; celebrating the times past, present, and future. Ed might have found a charming young man who's interests did match his own, Double-D might have had the unfortunate luck of being on the receiving end of an elderly woman's advances and Eddy might have vomited out of a cab window on the boulevard after challenging a rather brutish beard with a man attached to a tequila drinking contest. Alas, this was not that universe. As soon as Ed had opened his mouth to make that brilliant suggestion, he spotted something. The second peculiarity.
"Guys." He didn't want them to see it so much for it being a rather cool thing to observe on a lazy autumn afternoon but rather because he was unsure if what he was seeing was actually real.
"We could of course relocate to my house where I might have a more proper examination of the problem but I fear that might void the warranty." Double-D turned the phone over one last time before offering it back to its owner.
"Warranty whatever, that never works anyway! Let's just pack up and head to your place then."
"Guys!" This time, the two young men did react to Ed's call. Before they could respond verbally though, he raised his arm and pointed straight up into the sky. Following the direction, they encountered a breathtaking sight. Looking down for a moment to glance at each other, making sure that they were all seeing it, they looked back up and had their breath taken away again. It wasn't a beautiful sight, no; it was just one of those peculiar things that has an improbable tendency to happen in real life like, let's say, winning the lottery without having bought a ticket or the lawn having mowed itself because you asked it in a rather pleasant tone with a promise of lemonade when it's done. In this case, it was an enormous red object that to the untrained eye for improbable peculiarities looked an awful lot like a beetle.
Of course, even to the trained eye, it still looked like a beetle; quite simply because it was actually an enormous, red, flying beetle that had appeared out of thin air directly above them.
"Are you guys seeing this too?"
"The red, flying bug?"
"That's the one."
"But that is... Impossible! There has never been a recorded specimen of an insect of that size!" This was the first time in relation to these events that Double-D would claim something to be impossible. The last time ever he did so would later occur six years previous five days later.
"Yeah, you'd think so." Eddy was the first one who scrambled to his feet, never taking his eyes off the creature which seemed to simply hover there up in the air.
"One moment, I was looking at this cloud that kind of looked like a happy little tree and in the next it was just... There." In his youth, this would have been everything that Ed could ever have dreamed of; an unexplainable monster the size of a three-story building appearing out of nowhere. Now that it was actually happening though, he wasn't as thrilled. Following Eddy's motion, he got to his feet and pulled the third member to his as Double-D was just staring at the thing absolutely flabbergasted. "We should go."
"Yeah, I ain't sticking around in case that thing wants to get cuddly. Double-D?" Eddy looked at said petrified youngster before elbowing him in the arm.
"I have to- This is nothing short of a scientific breakthrough!" Seemingly oblivious to his friends' worry, he rummaged around his pockets before he found his phone. Pulling it out and pressing a few buttons, he aimed it at the creature and took a photo. This was a mistake.
"I think he wants to see how the photo turned out." Slowly turning its head, it seemed to observe them with its eyeless head; decisively clenching its four hands and twitching its pincers.
"Ah, yes; I do believe that it would be rather wise to skedaddle indeed." Now realizing the gravitas of the situation, Double-D took a firm hold of his friends by their arms and began to slowly back away. In response, the creature turned its body fully towards them and tilted its head.
"Screw skedaddling, I say we make a damn break for it!" Eddy didn't even wait for a confirmation from his two companions before he ran for his life in any direction that wasn't where the overgrown bug was currently thinking of heading. Unfortunately, the bug was very much thinking of heading in the general direction they were currently in and found itself rather satisfied when it actually did so. The three on the ground, not so much.
"RUN!" Ed grabbed the front of the still physically disadvantaged Double-D's shirt and basically dragged the poor guy after him as he followed in Eddy's footsteps. No one dared to look back, especially not when the buzzing of the beetle's wings grew louder out of the once peaceful autumn day silence. Panicked and terrified, they made their way across the lanes they had played in as children, crossing over the lawns of friends and former foes.
"WHAT THE HELL IS THAT THING?!" Eddy spared a glance backwards and his heart immediately sank into his sneakers; the jaws of the monster had begun to open and a ferocious roar made its way out, one that only inspired them to move their feet faster. He led them into yet another lane, not thinking any of their houses' insurance covered pestilence over one foot and that it would only be more panic inducing to be trapped somewhere what with their pursuer who didn't exactly seem like the door-bell ringing kind.
"I POSSESS SOME THEORIES BUT I DON'T BELIEVE I INTEND TO TEST THEM!" Was this how it would end? After everything they had gone through, after every adventure that had been experienced and shared between the three of them over the years, would they really be killed by a monstrous combination of Ed's and Double-D's childhood fascinations?
"I GOT A TEXT!" The brain works in mysterious ways and Ed's was no exception. In the few moments before the third oddity occurred, his brain made a number of connections. The fact that he had received a text reminded him that he too owned a cell phone. With this, he could call someone. The police, maybe, although this would be more up the alley of Bill Murray and Dan Aykroyd.
"PRIORITIES, ED; WE HAVE DISCUSSED THIS!" Double-D's remark went over his head, as did the wind that rushed by, and he found himself with his phone in his hand; trying to juggle the tasks of running faster than ever before with a murderous insect roaring down his back and hitting the right parts of the screen. Luckily and coincidentally, he succeeded with the first and failed with the second. Just as they rounded the corner of Jimmy's house and entered the lane yet a second time, Ed opened the text he had received. The display began to swirl around without responding to his frantic tapping before it transformed into a vortex of ones and zeroes for a good three seconds. It suddenly went black and with it, the earsplitting sound of unnaturally large beetle wings.
Ed was the first to stop completely, having noticed that there was no longer anything out of the ordinary which was by now completely unnatural. Double-D stopped dead in his tracks a good while later once he noticed that there was no sight of any insects on steroids, something that he instantaneously thought to be absolutely impossible. Eddy didn't slow to a halt until his two friends called out to him, both incredibly puzzled by the fact that the third peculiarity was that this had now quite simply turned into a rather surprisingly warm day for late October.