Beyblade Fan Fiction ❯ IT, Beyblade Style!!!! ❯ Tyson's call ( Chapter 2 )

(A/N: WHEE!!! It's been a long time updating. I just about gave up on the fic, but in the end, I prevailed. I would like to thank Juria, Tyson (I know who you are!), faithloveskai, kaida and Ritsu-chan for reviewing. I was kind of hyper when I wrote this chapter. Too many ice cream sandwiches! Here's chapter 1 for you!)

London, England

It was a relatively clear night. A little bit of wind, but nothing too bad. It was on this night that internationally known horror author Tyson Granger sat in his study in a little cottage in England, working on his new novel. He had been working on the thing for weeks, and now his creative juices were flowing. His fingers moved quickly over the keys of his keyboard as he wrote out the fates of his characters.

"At that moment," Tyson spoke out load, as he typed, "Susie turned around, and swung the baseball bat she was carrying at the giant, bald man who had sneaked up behind her and was preparing to stab her." He leaned back in his chair and smirked. This one would make the New York Times best-seller list for sure.

"Tyson, your dinner is getting cold!" Tyson's wife Mariam called from the dining room. "You said you would be down here ten minutes ago!"

"I'm coming!" he yelled back. Sighing, Tyson saved the work he had done and shut down his computer. He stalked out of the office and sat down at the table to greet a very annoyed Mariam, who was reading over the manuscript of his last chapter. After about ten minutes of cold silence Mariam looked up. "You've made wonderful progress on this, Tyson. It's excellent!"

"Yeah," replied Tyson. "Try telling that to that nutcase Jurgen. He'll reject `Goblins and Beasts' for one reason or another.

"No he won't," Mariam replied forcefully. "It's too imaginative for him to do that. Besides, I tell him that every single day. He'll accept it if it will mean big money for him. Tyson rolled his eyes. They ate in silence again until the phone rang. Tyson stood up.

"If it's Jurgen, tell him I'm in the shower or something like that," he said to Mariam, who had gotten up to answer the phone in the kitchen. He was just in the process of exiting the dining room when Mariam cried, "Ty, it's for you! Someone named Rei!" He walked into the kitchen and took the receiver from Mariam.

"Hello," he said impatiently. It had better not be a bumbling yahoo looking to promote his book or something.

"Tyson? It's me, Rei Kon. Do you remember?" the male voice on the other side of the line said. At that moment it all come back to Tyson. The kids, the gang, the promise and most importantly, It. Beads of sweat started to roll down his face.

"Rei? I remember now. How are you?" he said.

"There's no time for that now Tyson. It's come back," Rei said with a slight tremor in his voice. I found a picture of Zinny at the last victim's house.

"Zinny?" Tyson choked. Not Zinny. Not Zinny! He thought back to the day when his little brother had died, 30 years ago.

~Flashback~

In was a rainy day in the small backwater town of Beytown, Japan. The wet stuff poured down in buckets. It was also on this day that twelve-year-old Tyson Granger was stuck in bed with a cold, and his nine-year-old brother Zin was bugging him.

"Ty, you promised that you would come out today and sail `Barney' with me today!" Zinny said, jumping around Tyson's bed. Tyson sighed and lay back in bed. This was getting to be too much. And he really wished his mother would stop playing Fur Elise!

"G-g- g- g-go away t-t-twerp," he stuttered. "I'm s-s-sick!"

"But you promised!" Zinny whined loudly. Tyson groaned. The only way he would get out of this is if he sent Zinny out alone.

"Go by y-y-yourself. B-b-b-be a man," he snapped. Zinny smiled.

"Okay!" he chirped happily.

"You just have to do one thing," Tyson said. "Go down into the cellar and get the wax so we can seal the boat. There was a moment of silence as Zinny processed this fact into his tiny brain.

"But there are monsters down there!"

"J-j-j-just be brave and g-g-go down there!" Tyson yelled. His headache was getting worse by the second. Timidly, Zinny turned and left the room. He walked down the stairs and into the kitchen, where he then proceeded to go down the cellar steps. He quickly found the wax and ran back up to Tyson's room as fast as his legs could carry him.

"I got it!" he said proudly, holding the wax up.

"G-g-good. Bring it h-here," Tyson said. He grabbed the paper boat that lay on his bedside table as Zinny handed the block of wax to him. Tyson rubbed the block all over the boat, making sure that every bit was covered. He then handed it back to Zinny.

"H-h-here. All done." Zinny squealed in delight, hugged Tyson and planted a kiss on his cheek.

"Argh! Go away!" he growled. Zinny ran out of the room, put on his rain rubbers and ran out the front door. He found a suitable mini stream and placed the boat on it.

"Beep, beep! Make way for the S.S. Barney!" He chased the little boat all the way down Willow Street, but then, the boat took a sharp turn and sailed down a gutter.

"My boat!" Zinny cried. He tried frantically to retrieve the boat but to no avail. It was gone. He was just about to leave when he heard a voice coming from the gutter.

"Hello Zinny." Zinny looked on in astonishment as a red haired, white-faced clown rose from the gutter.

"Hi Zinny! Why don't you come down here and play with us!" the clown said jovially. Zinny shook his head.

"My mommy said I'm not allowed to talk to strangers."

"I'm Boris the Clown, and you're Zinny. Now we're not strangers!" Zinny smiled. "I guess not."

The clown suddenly pulled a bunch of brightly colored balloons from out of nowhere. "Do you want a balloon Zinny? They all float down here. Seeing Zinny's hesitation, he then pulled out his trump card. Zinny recognized it immediately.

"My boat!" he cried out joyfully.

"You want it?" Boris asked. Zinny nodded. "Then come and get it. Zinny extended his arm to reach out to his precious boat. Suddenly, a rapid change underwent in Boris. He grew long, sharp yellow teeth. He leaped forward and secured his teeth tightly around Zinny screamed, and then he saw no more.

~Flashback: Five days later~

It had been kindly old Mrs. Turner who had found Zinny's body while she was on her way to the grocer's. Tyson was in a state of shock. He had never even gotten to say goodbye. Zinny. His brother. His best friend. He was gone. Gone forever.

The gloomy funeral was gathered in the Beytown cemetery. It was pouring rain as it had been all week. Tyson's mother was sobbing uncontrollably onto his father's shoulder. His father looked to be still in shock. Tyson looked around at his best friends, the Lucky Seven. Kai Hiwatari stood next to him, his hand on his shoulder. Kenny McDonald was next, wheezing because the rainy weather played havoc with his asthma.

Hilary Landry was next. She was sniffing back tears, as was Max Tate and Rei Kon. Zeo Zagart was last, and he seemed to be praying for the soul of the little boy. Tyson sighed. Having his friend here around him in his time of need was comforting. Others had shown up: neighbors, teachers, and friends of Zinny's. They were all crying too. It wasn't fair that someone so small and precious should be dead at such a young age.

He suddenly felt a burning rage. He would make the person or thing that did this sorry that he ever messed with the Grangers. He would make them pay.

~Flashback: One week later~

With the pain from the loss of his younger brother only slightly numbed, Tyson walked into what once was his brother's room. Everything was as he had left it. No one had had the heart to come and pack everything away yet. It would most likely remain a shrine for Zinny.

Tyson looked around the room slowly, taking in everything from the racecar wallpaper to the pile of t-shirts on the dresser. He then spotted the bookcase. He walked over to it, and pulled a red leather-bound photo album from its midst. He opened it up to reveal photos taken from all over Zinny's life. Zinny in the bathtub when he was 3. Zinny at the park, swinging on the swings. Then he got the last picture, a school photo. Zinny had this huge smile on his face, showing off his empty spaces where teeth should have been.

It was just then that he noticed that his feet felt wet. Looking down, he screamed. Blood was dripping from the photo album onto his socks. Looking back at the album, he noticed blood was beginning to seep from around the edges of Zinny's school picture. Screaming again, he chucked the album across the room. It hit the wall with a thud. Fearfully, Tyson walked over to it, his bluish- brown eyes wide, and his hands ruffling his spiky blue hair.

Suddenly, as though there was an invisible wind, the album opened, flipping through the pages until it rested on the school picture. He heard a wicked sounding laugh and blood spurted out of the book. His screams brought his parents to Zinny's room.

"Tyson, what's wrong?" his mother asked. Then she saw the album. Emitting a cry, she ran over and picked it up, hugging it to her chest. Then she rushed out of the room, sobbing.

Tyson's father put a hand on his shoulder. "Don't come in here anymore, son." Tyson nodded and they both left the room. It was only minutes after when Tyson realized that neither had commented on the blood.

~End Flashbacks~

After ending his phone call with Rei, Tyson promptly made arrangements to fly out to Beytown, where he had not been for 30 years. He then rushed upstairs to pack. Mariam came to the foot of the stairs and stared up at him, worried.

Ten minutes later, Tyson came crashing down the stairs, his old beat-up suitcase in hand. He dropped it in front of the front door.

"I n-n-need to g-g-go," he said, stuttering once again.

"Tyson, why are you stuttering?" Mariam asked, her brow creasing in worry.

"I a-always used to s-s-stutter when I w-w-was y-younger," he replied, and busied himself with his passport. He then looked back up at Mariam. "Did I ever t-tell you about m-m-my brother Z-Zinny who was killed?"

Mariam nodded. "Yes, I remember. Tyson closed his eyes as if blocking out a horrible memory. "He w-was m-m-murdered," he quivered. Mariam gasped. "Oh no!" He tried to hug her husband but he shook her off. "I've got to go. The c-cab's here," he said, falling into his normal speech pattern. He ran out the front door and into the waiting cab.

"Heathrow airport, please," he said to the cabby. As the cab took off, he pondered the recent turn of events, and found that he did not like it at all.

(A/N: This is where I started to separate from the method I was writing before. A.K.A. I took some creative license here. So sue me. And to my two reviewers, you can have my ice cream sandwiches!)