A Spell Gone Wrong
Arthur had a certain feeling, a certain feeling for a certain someone. Now, I bet you're wondering "What sort of feeling is it?", and "Who's this certain someone?" You see, this 'feeling' can be described in many different ways, but Arthur would simply put it as pure... hatred. Ah yes, but of course it's only natural to despise someone, right? Now as far as this 'someone' is concerned, you could say that this man has a... unique way of conveying his emotions, so to speak. "More like sexually harassing everyone", as Arthur would put it.
Are you still not sure yet? Well, this man is said to have tasted the finest wines, slept with the most gorgeous women... and possibly men... and could also communicate to us in what he would call 'the language of love'. Although Arthur would argue that it was "a load of crap". And the man we are speaking of is none other than Monsieur Francis Bonnefoy, a Frenchman who has a passion for l 'amour and tends to harass our dear Englishman Arthur Kirkland. Oh how the Brit loathed this wretched being and despised him with a passion.
Now Arthur was usually a more composed and organised man. He was a true gentleman to his friends and work colleagues, even if some of them did make his skin crawl or blood boil. He was also well organised and completely aware of the atmosphere, so he knew what to say or do at the right moment. Although he had to admit, he does have his flaws but denies the fact that he does.
He has many hobbies such as reading, writing, embroidery work and most of all... Cooking... I suppose you can tell that his food isn't exactly... To everyone's taste, to say the least. "Humph, just a bunch of tasteless bastards", is what they would be classified as according to Arthur. Rumours say that the last time someone complained about his food they ended up with a fractured arm and quite a bruised head... But that's just a rumour... right? Another hobby he enjoys would be Black Magic. He was supposedly apart of this 'cult'. And so, our adventure begins... in Arthur's basement?
Through the long hallway of Arthur's house you would go, passing by plenty of doors until you reached a specific door at the very end. It was a large oak door that almost took up the entire wall, but there wasn't anything particularly interesting about it. It was just plain oak, a rather dark brown with an almost burgundy sort of tint to it, and a regular brass handle on your right, perfectly polished that it had a decent shine. But before you could actually make contact with the brass handle, the door would mysteriously creek open by itself. Then you will come across a flight of cobblestone stairs twisting downwards into the darkness of the underground, leading through an eerie passage way that was also made of cobblestones.
Further and further you would go, dodging a few random spiders here and there, the only light source being the fire lit torches hanging from the walls. Finally, you reach the end of the passage way and come across yet another large oak door. But unlike the first door, this one had remarkable patterns and details carved into it. The main thing that stood out was the large crest engraved in the very middle. It was the Royal Coat of Arms of the United Kingdom. Now, inside this room were many extraordinary gadgets and solutions and leather bound books that you would normally find in a fairytale.
On the cold stone floor was a large 5 pointed star known as a pentagram. Arthur stood in front of the pentagram silently; his head hung low and lips coiled into a devious smirk. Part of his face was slightly covered by the hood of a long and flowing black cloak that was draped over his shoulders. He looked up, an evil glint twinkling in his forest green eyes, a smirk plastered across his lips, and a plan forming in his dark mind. He chuckled to himself as he brought his fist out in front of himself and spread his fingers wide open, thrusting his palm out instantaneously.
A rattle resounded throughout the dark room and a purple leather bound book suddenly shot across the room and was caught immediately. Arthur opened it up only to have the book turn to his destined page by itself. He chuckled darkly.
"Well would you look at that, just the spell I wanted. Oh this is just too perfect," He glanced at the page and snapped the book shut before tossing it aside, "I finally get to have my sweet revenge on that bloody frog Francis! You had better watch out you bastard 'cause a wicked curse is coming your way!" He rummaged inside is cloak for his wand and then waved it above his head in a swirling pattern before swishing it down to point at the pentagram which instantly flashed a brilliant purple that lit the entire room.
A raging wind circled the room causing books to fly off their shelves, potions to topple and spill onto the stone floor and making the owl and bats shiver. The Brit chanted an ancient spell he memorised from the book whilst waving the wand around in a circular motion above the pentagram. His eyes were squeezed tight together as he concentrated; trying to form a picture of the Frenchman in his mind, though he had a feeling that it would cause him to have nightmares. Suddenly his forest green eyes, now darkened with rage and deviousness, snapped open and he swished the wand as he muttered the last few words of the spell. He laughed manically and shouted, "Now you're time has come! Prepare to face you're do-"
"Yo Artie, are you down here?" An obnoxious American accent voiced from the passage way. A happy-go-lucky American man then spontaneously barged in through the oak door with a proud glistening smile plastered to his tanned face. "Hey there Artie, whatchya doing down here all on your lonesome?"
Arthur jerked his head up, his eyes no longer dim and dark from the almost hypnotic cursing. He suddenly looked mortified once he saw his friend Alfred F. Jones standing in the doorway."Alfred what the heck are you do- CRAP!" Arthur was too late. When Alfred burst in he lost his control on the wand and it finally shot out a purple streak of what looked to be likes bolt of lightning. It bounced from wall to wall like a pinball machine knocking everything down that stood in its path and creating utter chaos. It then bounced off of a mirror that hung on the opposite wall and headed straight for Arthur.
"ARGH!" Arthur shrieked as the lightening zapped him and threw him back into the wall behind. Alfred couldn't follow the zooming spark but when the all too familiar shriek had caught his attention he knew something had happened to the Brit.
"ARTHUR!"A large cloud of smoke filled the room, making Alfred's glasses steam up and caused him to cough and splutter. It had slightly cleared up in a few seconds and Alfred had regained his breath.
"Arthur!" He sprinted over to where he saw the zap. "Hey Arthur, are you okay? Speak to me dude!" A low growl was heard. He searched aimlessly through the lingering smoke until he thought he reached his destination. He knelt down and felt for where the Brit was.
The clouds cleared a bit more so it was sort of possible to see where you were. Alfred finally caught hold of something and inched closer to see if it was Arthur. He gasped.
"O-oh dear Lord..." He looked horrifyingly at what was in front of him. He gulped, his mouth gone dry. "What the heck?" He shouted. He picked up what looked to be like a white and brown fluffy cat with jade green eyes. Alfred pressed their noses together as his sky blue eyes widened an inch, if that was even possible. "OMG Arthur, you were turned into a cat?" He wailed. The cat sighed.
••• Thanks for taking the time to read this! Now here's some stuff you might want to know! •••
The word cult has a few definitions to it such as:
1. Religion: a system of religious or spiritual beliefs, especially an informal and transient belief system regarded by others as misguided, unorthodox, extremist, or false, and directed by a charismatic, authoritarian leader
2. religious group: a group of people who share religious or spiritual beliefs, especially beliefs regarded by others as misguided, unorthodox, extremist, or false
3. Idolization of somebody or something: an extreme or excessive admiration for a person, philosophy of life, or activity ( often used before a noun )
the cult of youth
a cult hero
4. Object of idolization: a person, philosophy, or activity regarded with extreme or excessive admiration
5. Fad: something popular or fashionable among a devoted group of enthusiasts ( often used before a noun )
has taken on cult status
6. Cultural anthropology system of supernatural beliefs: a body of organized practices and beliefs supposed to involve interaction with and control over supernatural powers
7. Sociology elite group: a self-identified group of people who share a narrowly defined interest or perspective
And lastly, a Pentagram is a 2D geometric figure in the shape of a star, with five points, and is especially used as a magical or occult symbol.
Still need some help? No problem! Just ask me! :D