Trumble's War

Yo, What up, y'all! It's TMC here with Scrib and my book we wrote together! Enjoy it!

Trumble’s War

By: The TMC and Scrib

Chapter 1:

Crazy Man Sandwich

“Hey! You!” An old man said, “Get off my lawn!” “I’m sorry, sir! I didn’t mean to!” A young boy yelled as he ran, followed by two wolves and an egg salad sandwich. As the old man gobbled up the sandwich chasing after the boy, who was poking his nose into funny business, he went back into his house, went to the couch, and ate another sandwich.

“I’ll get that boy if it’s my last sandwich!!!” He shouts at himself, and he immediately falls asleep. He murmured “Sandwiches…” just before he drifted off into an uneasy sleep. (Probably because of all those sandwiches.)

Meanwhile…

The boy was still being chased by the same two wolves that followed him through the old man's yard. The boy dashed up a mountain nearby and climbed up as fast he could. His arms were now tired from clinging onto a small ledge. The wolves licked at his boots’ soles. With this shock, the boy climbed up and made his way to the top of the mountain. The wolves, defeated, went back home.

Who was the boy? Where was he from? Why was the old man mad? Let’s start with the beginning. It was a long time ago…

Chapter 2:

Trumble’s War

Amid the Trumble’s War, many generations before the boy, his Grandpa was drafted into the war. He came back untouched, but severely damaged in his pride. His only mission, a failure. He became a coward on his first day on the front lines.

“AAAAHHHHHHH!” Germe (the boy’s Grandpa) screamed as a rifle’s bullet came at him. This war is deadly, he thought as he looked back and started to run again in sheer fear. Time seemed to slow down as the bullet chased him. Then, suddenly, the missile dropped to the floor. Germe stopped and looked at the bullet, and he yelled with enthusiasm until his eyes saw that everyone was dead. Except for him. Why was I spared, he thought, when everyone else died.

He kept running home. With this close encounter, he never wanted to go back to war ever again. At home, he withered away ‘till only his worst traits remained: Greed, Cowardliness, and being annoying. He always demanded 10 sandwiches an hour, (Dude, that’s like 240 sandwiches a day) and always wanted people to be his maid. He died a sad man, but he had a mystery, though: He had something valuable: a treasure. Some people say that he fought with all his might, and found inconceivable amounts of money. People say that’s how everyone he knew was a maid to him, and the boy was figuring it out.

The farmer, unbeknownst to this, thought the boy was trespassing on his property. He yelled “GET OFF MY LAWN, YOU CRAZY KID!!!” The boy ran out of the yard without a word.

This story, however, was true, and the boy suspected a clue to be in the farmer’s house. Though he only had a few things to prove himself, he was on the right track after finding a note and a book as he went to the mountains to find a campfire all burnt out.

The next day, the boy woke up to the shrill sound of screaming. He quickly packed up his bag, and a note fell out of it. It said: Come to the sound of the shrill screaming, and you will find a treasure beyond what a man would want. As the boy read the note, he wondered to himself, What if this is a trap?

He scampered up the mountain, only to find another note. It said: ‘You fool! Your friends and family are in danger! Never trust a note again!’

This time, it was slightly ripped apart with some paint...some red paint. The boy quickly realized what happened. This was blood. The boy was frightened. This was the spot where an ambush happened. On the floor next to the bloody note, he saw tracks, but they weren’t human. They were wolf tracks. The boy scurried down the mountain and began to run west, hoping to find some food and shelter, but little did he know that he was running into another trap.

He headed into a farm, only to find a sleepy farmer with a sandwich, which was only half-eaten. He made haste and scurried the whole house to find a spare bed, and another clue. More blood was here, and one-note half-finished was left lying down. “Brew?” The boy asked to find 4 letters on a very messy note.

He kept reading the note, trying to figure out what it meant, when a voice behind him said “And what do you think you're doing here, young fella?” The boy turned around, only to find himself face to face with the farmer. He was about 6 feet tall, with a gaunt face the color of sandpaper. “Welcome, young one,” He said, “To the Death Farm.”

TO BE CONTINUED…