Mastery of the Mamodo chap 1

Disclaimer: I don't claim to own anything regarding Zatch Bell. The ownership goes to, whoever the heck owns Zatch Bell. I only claim the story, which I thought up.

Okay, so this is my second fanfic. It's been soooooo long since I actually watched the show, but I decided at trying one out with Zatch Bell. This will be in an alternate universe but still on earth. Not sure if all characters will be OCs, but they probably will. Since I'll be working on this, the effort spent on Curse of the Lucario will be greatly reduced. My deepest apologies. But I will not stop working on it, ever, until it's done. This story is a bit more iffy. I'm only writing this to overcome a writer's block that I've been having trouble with but may reconsider if people really like it.

This will be written in first person POV. I just have trouble with the other kinds of POV :P

Also, the main character seems a lot like Zatch's book user (I don't remember his name :P), but is actually original. He's actually a lot like me, with a few changes.


Chapter 1

It was another lazy afternoon at school. The sky was overcast and held a promise of rain.

I was paying too much attention to my book that I didn't hear the teacher until she was right up on me.

"Mister David Pickens! Would you please tell us the answer to question 257, that is, if you've been paying attention."

I held back a sharp retort and glanced at the problem in question for a moment before saying the correct answer in a bored tone.

Ms Longs face grew more agitated and she said, "that's right, but where's your work? You could've got it from one of your classmates."

I held back a snort at her suggestion. I was one of the smartest students in the room. It wasn't narcissism or a huge ego talking, it was the truth. In response to her demand, I picked up the paper I had used for a bookmark and handed it to her with all the work facing her.

"I believe that you will find all the work done correctly," I leaned back with the book I had been reading set on my stomach, ready for me to dive right back in.

I saw her eye twitch slightly and I knew I was pushing it, so I sat up slightly and put the book in my backpack.

She scanned all the work in a moment and nodded. "Fine. It's all correct. Now how about question 258?"

"Flip the paper over," I said and I saw several of the more raucous students begin to smile and hold back laughter.

She flipped it over and only took a moment before setting the paper back down with an irritated look and heading back to the front of the room. The students who had been holding back laughter let it loose and became the target of her wrath.

I did this pretty often. I would finish all my work years before the other students and waste time by reading whatever book I had handy. At the beginning of the year it had gotten me in trouble, but once she figured out I not only understood everything but also showed my work, she backed off a little. It had been a great source of amusement to the students who didn't try in the slightest.

One downside to this style of behavior is that I had more acquaintances than friends. My closed-off nature, love of books, and high IQ all made making friends low on my list of priorities. Especially when I was put in classes full of students who average C's.

Thankfully, her berating took up the last bit of the class and I heard the bell ring and end the school day.

I walked quickly to my truck that had been a hand-me-down birthday present from my father. It wasn't fancy, but it got me from point A to point B. It had been a parting gift from my father when he had to go to another country for his job. He was a historian with a good name for himself who knew more about ancient civilizations than he did the present. He had left almost a year ago, a few months after my fifteenth birthday, and I hadn't seen him since.

Well I managed to get in my vehicle and get out of the student parking lot only a minute before the heavens unleashed its fury and everything not indoors quickly became soaked. I made my way through Florida's country roads with practiced ease. I had lived in Florida my entire life. A Floridian, born and raised. Well by the time I was halfway to my house, the rain had slacked slightly, but was still pouring.

I was headed around a corner when I noticed a hunched up figure sitting under a pine tree a little ways ahead. I noticed that the figure seemed to be pretty young, maybe ten or eleven, judging by his/her size. Thunder boomed through the sky and I saw the figure flinch violently.

Despite my usual cold nature, I couldn't help but pull over to where the kid was sitting. I grabbed the umbrella that I always carried in my truck and went to the kid.

"Hey! Are you alright?" I had to raise my voice to be heard over the storm.

The figure flinched and looked up at me in confusion. It was a boy. I saw he had something hidden in his arms that were held across his chest, but didn't pay attention to it. He had on a shirt that looked well worn and some shorts that had some tears in it. He had on a ball cap, so I wasn't sure what color his hair was.

"Are you hurt or anything?" I moved my umbrella so it covered the kid, even if it allowed some of the rain to fall on me.

The kid shook his head and said nothing.

I knew there were no homes anywhere near us on that road, so I decided to help the kid out.

"Do you need a ride home? I don't mind if it gets you out of this rain. You might get sick."

The boy seemed to think for a moment before nodding and standing up, still holding his arms across his chest. It seemed like he was protecting whatever he was holding, but I didn't ask, even if I was curious.

I held the umbrella over him until he got in the truck. I got in and grabbed a towel that I had left in the back after coming back from a friend's pool party.

I handed him the towel, saying, "here. Use this to dry off."

He nodded gratefully and he used one arm to hold the strange object and his other hand to dry himself. I saw that he had a strange looking book in his arms. From the tiny bit I saw, it was grey and interlaced with strange silver swirls that seemed to glow slightly.

I saw he was shivering slightly and quickly turned on the heater.

"So. Where do I need to take you?" He had put the towel around his shoulders and was using it as a blanket.

After a moment, he said, "I really don't have a place to go."

I was confused and asked, "but where are your parents? Don't you have a home?"

I flinched when I realized that this kid may be an orphan, but he said, "I have a home, but it is not around here."

I thought I understood. "You're visiting this area? Is that why you are lost?"

He seemed to hesitate, then nodded.

"We have a spare room at my house. Do you need a place to stay the night?"

"I wouldn't want to be a nuisance-"

"It's no problem. The spare bedroom hasn't been used in years. You wouldn't be taking anything from us. You can stay there tonight and in the morning we can find your parents."

He nodded slowly, like he was saying yes, even if it was a bad idea.

I smiled as reassuringly as I could and started to drive. We drove for about ten minutes in complete silence.

I pulled into my house's driveway and parked next to my mom's silver van. Our house had three bedrooms, two on the bottom one on the second floor next to the attic door.

I flipped off the truck and grabbed the umbrella.

"I'm going to unlock the door and then come back for you, okay?"


I went out and unlocked the door before returning to find that the kid had fallen fast asleep. I rolled my eyes and picked him up. He wasn't that heavy, but it was difficult to hold the umbrella in a way to keep the rain off of both of us and hold him gently.

I carried him inside and up to the upstairs guest bedroom. My mom came out of the attic at the moment I came to the top of the stairs and her eyes widened when she saw me holding the sleeping kid.

I put a finger to my lips to indicate silence and she shut her mouth long enough for me to set the kid on the bed and meet her back downstairs.

"Who is that?", she asked me calmly.

I leaned against the wall and said, "I'm not sure. I was driving home from school and I saw him sitting under a tree. So I went to him and asked if he was hurt and if he needed a ride. He said he wasn't hurt, but I think he's exhausted. He said that his family didn't live around here and he didn't know where they were. I offered to let him stay the night and we would find his parents in the morning."

My mom smiled and said, "good job, you did the right thing. We'll let him sleep and ask him some more when he wakes up."

I was surprised at my mom's calm reaction and stood there silently for a moment while she walked away.

I shrugged and went back out to my truck to grab my backpack. As I was leaning to reach in the back to grab it, I noticed the kids book laying in the seat. I saw that it was covered in strange silver swirls on the side that was facing up.

Overcome with curiosity, I picked up the book and saw that it was covered with the swirling patterns on both sides. It had no title on its spine and no other defining features.

I grabbed it along with my backpack and went to my room to do some homework.

I was trying to concentrate on the relatively easy work, but the book seemed to pull my eyes every time my gaze went in its direction. Eventually, after a few hours of failing to do homework, I gave in and opened the book to the front page.

The first page was covered in strange symbols that looked like no language I had ever seen before. The symbols were a grey color that eluded all meaning. I flipped to the next page and saw that it was the same as the first, covered in nonsense.

I flipped each page and saw only the strange symbols. Did this kid create his own language or something? Could he even read this?

I was about to close the book in annoyance when a group of silver symbols caught my eyes on the last page I was going to look at.

I focused on the group of symbols and saw that they were in perfect English! I read the word in my head, trying to figure out what it meant or if I had heard it before.

I stared at the strange word and tried to get the feel of it in my mouth, "Luxinar."

The moment I uttered the word, I saw the book begin to glow and I both heard and felt a huge impact.

I instinctively knew that it came from above me and I sprinted up the stairs, up to the guest bedroom.

The moment I burst through the door, I saw that the window had been blasted out by some sort of powerful blast. I turned to the boy and saw that his eyes had rolled up into the back of his head and his mouth was wide open. Way too wide to be normal, like his jaw had unhinged. He had been facing directly at the broken window and I was scared he had been hurt, what else would explain such strange symptoms?

But even as I watched, his mouth closed and his eyes returned to normal. He blinked several times and jumped up while staring at me with an open-mouthed stare.

"You!? You can read my book?!" He let out the question like it was the worst thing that could happen to him in his life.

I realized I still had the book in my hand and I switched my eyes back and forth from the book and the kid, finally making the connection.

"Wait, you did that?", I pointed at the blasted out window with a finger that shook slightly.

He nodded solemnly and I heard my mom coming up the stairs at a run.

Before she came in, I looked at the kid and said, "let me do the talking."

He didn't get a chance to respond before my mom busted in the room and stared at the blasted out window.

Then she focused on the boy and rushed to him with a, "are you okay? Are you hurt? What happened?" And a bunch of other motherly care related questions.

"I'm okay, I don't know what happened," he said, feigning ignorance.

I came up with a story as quickly as possible and told her a likely sounding story of how a lightning bolt must have struck the house and blown out the window. She bought the story and herded us downstairs and into the living room.

She made us sit on the couch while she made a few calls to arrange for someone to come and repair the window. She sent me up to put sheets of plastic over the hole while she went and took a bath to calm down her rattled nerves.

As I set up the plastic sheet, the boy stood silently and handed me the tape when I needed it.

Once I put it up, we both went to the living room and sat down on opposite sides of the couch.

After a moment of silence, I said, "I believe introductions are in order. The name is David Pickens."

"I'm Aaron Yuso and you are the reader of my book."

I blinked and said, "perhaps we should start from the beginning. Where are you from?"

"The Mamodo world," he said it like he was from a few states away instead of from another planet.

"Okay," I dismissed my questions about the "Mamodo world", and said, "how did you do, whatever it is you did, to bust out the window?"

"I am a Mamodo. All Mamodo have special abilities. I was sent here along with 99 other Mamodo children to fight for the title of Mamodo King."

I held up the time out symbol. "Hold up. Let me get this straight. You claim to be from another world, along with 99 others, and you have come to fight for the right to be King of your world?"

He nodded. "Yes. We are each given a book. We are to find whoever can read our books and attempt to destroy other Mamodos books while preventing the destruction of our own books. Once a Mamodos book is destroyed, the Mamodo is sent back to the Mamodo world and loses the chance to be the Mamodo King. Whichever Mamodo is left after all others are beaten is the winner and is declared King."

I said nothing and stared at the grey book in my hands.

"So why can I only read that one word out of all these symbols?"

"The owner of the book will steadily learn new spells as the Mamodo gets stronger. Each spell has a different affect from the others. The book will reveal a new spell when you have unlocked them and you will be able to use it. Each Mamodos abilities is different, though some may be very similar."

I swallowed and asked, "and are all Mamodo as destructive as you?"

He shook his head and I sighed in relief.

Then he said, "no. Most are much stronger than me. Though there are a few who are weaker than me, but not many."

I rolled my eyes and stood up. "Let's get something to eat. I'm hungry."

Aaron seemed surprised at the change of topic, but eagerly followed me into the kitchen.

"I'll fix us some grilled cheese. How many do you want?"

"Three, please."

I made his and served him before making my own. He had already finished his before mine had even been made and sat at the table while I ate.

As I ate, I noticed that the rain had finally stopped and that there was some light poking through the clouds, though I knew it would be dark soon.

Aaron was looking at a picture on the wall when he stiffened and twisted his head in the direction of the door.

"A Mamodo is close and is getting closer."

I jumped up and the back of my seat hit the wall.

"Wait, right now? I just got used to the idea of fighting otherworldly creatures with my own otherworldly kid and now I have to do it!?"

Aaron stood and headed for the door with a, "yes, now bring the book," tossed over his shoulder.

I grabbed the book in shaking fingers and rushed outside into the fading light.

"Wait, so we're going to fight a Mamodo in my backyard? Can't that be dangerous?" From what I saw of Aaron's attack, I knew there was going to be a lot of property damage associated with Mamodo battles.

Aaron shot me an exasperated look and said, "and where else are we going to fight?"

I thought for a moment and said, "which way are they coming from? And how far away are they?"

Aaron tilted his head slightly and said, "less than a mile and approaching from that way," he pointed in the opposite direction of where I planned to go.

"Perfect, let's go." I ran and picked him up in my arms as I headed to where I planned to fight, much to his protest.

"Put me down!"

"I can run faster than you and I need a little more time to figure out how to fight, so stop complaining."

He fell silent and repositioned himself so he faced up, then said, "fine. The main point of the fight is to burn the opponents book. The only way to do this is to either hit the book with a direct attack, or beat the other Mamodo until their book begins to burn."

"So there is a chance that the book owner may specifically target me to end the fight faster?"

Aaron nodded grimly. "Yeah. A Pretty high chance in fact."

"Joy. So, do you know what we should expect from this Mamodo? Can you tell anything about who it is or what their abilities are like?"

Aaron shook his head. "No. I'm not able to tell things like that. I'm only able to sense their presence, nothing concrete."

I nodded, not wasting breath with any more questions. I was breathing heavily from running at full speed for the last five minutes.

I did ask, "how far away are they now?"

He tilted his head and said, "they have increased their speed and are about the same distance as the first time you asked, and gaining."

I nodded again, silently cursing my luck. I ran for another two minutes until I arrived at where I had planned to fight the approaching threat.

I think this is a nice place for a cliffhanger ;P hahahahahahahahaha! I thought I would try out a Zatch Bell Fanfic and it seems like it might work out. Tell me what you think in the reviews. And forgive me for any errors, I haven't watched the show in so many years.

Also, I NEED OCs! Mamodo and their book owners, preferably. I need the basic details: gender, main theme they seem to go along with (lightning, fire, anti-matter etc), name, personality traits, what their book is like, spells, and spell affects. And whatever you deem necessary to the construction of your character. (Dark secrets also welcome)

And check out my other story, Curse of the Lucario if you are a Pokemon fan. It's my first FanFiction, so please review and participate in the poll on my profile to help the story along.

And that's about it, Talkingbirdguy, OUT!