Liberty's Kids Fan Fiction ❯ The Legend of Masked Rider ❯ Bunker Hill ( Chapter 3 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

CHAPTER THREE
 
July 17, 1775
 
Bunker Hill was no place to be if were an American. The British army had gathered in swarms, and their attack-hips were still positioned out at sea. On the other hand the poor Americans were running low on ammunition and gun-powder.
 
James was on the hill trying to report on the actions…
 
Sarah on the other hand had been riding along on her stolen horse to find Lieutenant Hampton, who had vital information on the whereabouts of her father. Equipped with a pass signed by Sergeant Wellright, Sarah proceeded further over the hill… suddenly she ambushed…
 
Several monks popped out of secret hiding places, scarring Sarah's horse, and she fell off. “All right men… move out!” I ordered.
 
Clarissa hoped onto the horse, and we discussed our battle plans. “I should be able to handle to the swarm of soldiers. However, there is still the matter of those attack boats.”
 
Clarissa decided. “I shall have to use my most powerful spells. It might be our best shot.” She said to me.
 
Sarah noticed that the two monks who were hi-jacking her horse seemed to speak with British accents. One ran off and the female monk turned her dark hood to face Sarah. “If you know what is best for you I urge you to stay out of our way.” she sneered. “YAH…!” she rode off in the other direction from whence Sarah had come leaving her on her own.
 
Her mind was completely puzzled. “Who were those people?” she asked aloud. Nevertheless, she continued on her journey on foot.
 
Meanwhile
 
General-Howe who was aboard one of the two attack-ships had ordered his men to fire upon the hill and force the rebels to retreat. So far he and his men were successful and planned to move into Bunker Hill with all but a few small loses of men…
 
But suddenly…”What's this?” he growled as he looked through his spy-glass. Several monks had unexpectedly appeared from secret hiding places and were now attacking his men.
 
These strange monks, whoever they were this was almost impossible to believe. They were dodging all the bullet shots, and tearing through the defense force as if they were made of paper.
 
A red-coat swung his harpooned-musket at a monk, but the monk side-stepped out of they way so fast that the red-coat didn't have time to react when the monk parried the musket with his sword out of the red-coat's hand and then poised it at his throat. “Yield…!”
 
The red-coat had no choice but to surrender.
 
Three more fire coats fired the lasts of their bullets at another monk, but much to their shock, he took no damage and he was hit everywhere. No blood, not even a scratch. The men saw no choice but to surrender.
 
James caught a glimpse of what was going on. “What the--”
 
There were some however that were just too stubborn to quit and the monks ended up having to hurt them. One of the monks was battle two red-coats that just refused to surrender, no matter how outmatched they were. “Well get you yet, whoever you are!” one of them roared.
 
The monk wouldn't stand down and continued to parry their muskets with his sword, and finally he managed to wound the red-coats. This was indicated by sparks flying upon the impacts of the attacks.
 
ZAP! “AA-OOW…!”
 
POW! “WHOA…! AAH!”
 
The two red-coats fell down the hill wounded badly. This angered more of the red-coats, but as soon as they tried to attack there hit hard and thrown down the hill. Still, many more remained.
 
General Howe was not going to stand for this. “Open fire on those scoundrels!” he ordered, but before his men could carry out the order their ship was rocked badly as if something had hit it.
 
“What was that?” growled Howe.
 
“Sir, look…!” cried a soldier.
 
There, down below was a lone monk on horseback gazing up at the ship. Clarissa held out her arm. “THE BOLT OF THUNDER!” and she launched series of lightning-ball projectiles that attacked t he ship causing some of the men to fall out into the water.
 
“Tis a witch! A WITCH!” cried the men as they began to run for their lives. “Come back here you cowards!” Howe thundered.
 
“You there!” Clarissa called. “I give you this one chance. Surrender or I will be forced to use drastic actions!”
 
Howe ordered some of his men to stay on the ship, while he himself and the rest of his men departed and dealt with the intruder. Clarissa hopped down from her horse. “Do you surrender?” she asked.
 
“Silence, Witch… it is you who shall be forced to surrender.” snapped Howe. “Men… attack her. Shoot to kill!”
 
Clarissa stood her guard ready for battle.
 
 
Sarah had me up with Henri who was hiding in the tall grass. “Sarah! Thank goodness you are safe.” The young boy said.
 
“Where's James…?” Sarah asked.
 
Henri told her that James was up on the hill in the fort where the action was. “He's up there?” asked Sarah. “Doesn't he realize that it's dangerous?”
 
“You're telling me…” replied Henri. “I'm just trying to find a way out of `ere.”
 
Sarah gave him Sergeant Wellright's pass, and then continued towards the fort where she hoped she would find Lieutenant Hampton.
 
 
At the very moment, the Lieutenant, and his brother, the Corporal whom Sarah had hi-jacked the horse she rode earlier. Were already at the top of the hill facing me. The Corporal was trying to persuade his brother to “Stop fighting… you can't beat him!”
 
The Lieutenant refused to listen. “I am a soldier of the King… I can beat anyone!” he said sounding all cocky. “What have you to say about that… scoundrel.” he spat at me.
 
I stood there clenching my fists. “Here's what I have to say.” I said. I raised my hand up high in the air. “I call upon the powers of light and truth to become Masked Rider!”
 
“ECTOPHASE, ACTIVATE…!”
 
MASKED RIDER!
 
MASKED RIDER!
 
The men were amazed and shocked to see my outfit suddenly transform into black shiny armor, a red cape, and a full helmet with red dragon eyes, and small blade-spikes on the back and side. “Prepare to be crushed British fools! Like all those who dare to challenge the Masked Rider!”
 
The Corporal was actually scared out of his mind, and desperately begged his brother to run with him. “I run from NO ONE!” Lt. Hampton yelled and he foolishly charged at him with his musket-harpoon.
 
I grabbed hold of the musket just as he came at me, and actually snapped it in pieces with just my one hand. “GAH…?”
 
“Humph!” I grunted. “My turn now. RIDER-KICK!” I leapt up high and my boots began to glow as I bashed them right into Hampton's chest, flipping him over. “YE-E-E-ARGH…!”
 
James could see the whole battle, but he was far too nervous to write anything. “What am I doing?” he thought silently. “The biggest story of a lifetime and I'm too scared to write anything!”
 
 
Down at the ships, Clarissa had single handedly been warding off all the red-coats that outnumbered her. “Fools! You can't possibly defeat me. My powers are far too great!”
 
General Howe didn't care what she said. “Men… keep going!” he ordered. The red-coats began to charge.
 
Clarissa lost all her patience. “I'm sorry it has come to this, but you leave me no choice!” she growled. She began to concentrate, “THE BITE OF LIGHTNING!” and she just stood there as her body glowed a shade of blue.
 
The red-coats suddenly decided to retreat. “Hurry…!”
 
“Get out of here!”
 
Clarissa continued to concentrate and then. “HIYA…!” Something enormous appeared. A giant blue monster. It glared at the red-coats frightening them to death, and then the elemental-spirit held out its arm and BLASTED the red-coats with a huge bolt of lighting.
 
BOOM!
 
“WHAAA…!”
 
“GAAAARRGH…!”
 
General Howe watched in horror as all his men screamed and howled in pain as they fell to the ground with their bodies still sparking and… KABLAM-KABOOM! They exploded into nothing.
 
He then grew nervous as Clarissa turned to face him. “All right General… you are next!” That was what she wanted to do, but suddenly her body began to flash in a swift glow of light. “Uh! Oh no…!” and she retreated much to Howe's relief and confusion.
 
She ran to a safe distance, and fired her, “HAND OF PYRO…!” projectiles in the air signaling us that the shield of immunity was wearing off, and we would have to retreat.
 
“All right…” I said. “I'm through with you red-coat!”
 
“And I you… whatever you may be!” growled Hampton as he still stubbornly refused to give up, and charged at me one last time.
 
I on the hand reached down to the emblem on my belt. “Electro-Saber…!” and I pulled out what appeared to be a sword with glowing energy for a blade.
 
“Huh… here… what's this?” cried Hampton.
 
I held the sword up high, “Electro-Saber… Energize!” and the energy around the sword began to flare as I waved it round-and around. Then I brought my arm down and SLASHED Hampton right across the chest.
 
“BLLAAAAAAAA-AAAAH…!” His blood cursed forth as his body began to flare up and spark with lightning. “WHAT IS THIS POWEEEEER…?” Then he fell over and EXPLODED!
 
“BROTHER…!” cried the Corporal.
 
I put my sword away and began to retreat along with the rest of my forces. “That'll teach them to mess with the Masked Rider.”
 
 
The British though having successfully captured Bunker Hill felt as though they gained nothing from it at the loss of so many fine men. Sarah was also heartbroken to here about the Corporal's brother being Lt. Hampton… “He was killed.”
 
“I'm afraid that there will be no luck in finding your father today.”
 
 
James didn't have it as easy either, for he had just learned that Dr. Warren, whom he had begun to idolize, had been killed. “He was such a good man.”
 
Nobody really won the battle that day, but the one question that was on everyone's mind was… who were those mysterious hooded strangers, and that masked man in black armor who attacked the red-coats?
 
Author's notes:
 
Some of you may notice that I've been using the historical characters from the revolution. Well that's what Liberty's Kids is about… using the fictional cartoon versions of the people.
 
If it was really against Fan fiction'srules, then why should Liberty's Kids be allowed anyways?Cut the historical guys, and it pretty much dilapidates a large percent of plotting.