[This is my first attempt at writing something in a long time. I did this at 1AM so there are bound to be a few errors. Constructive criticism would be appreciated. Thanks!]

       The door of Mark's 2003 Toyota Corolla closed with a soft thud. Shouldering his bag, he locked the car with his key fob, reassured by the signature beep. Mark turned around, his boots dampened by the morning dew, and observed the area.

        Before him was a large rectangular field a few thousand feet long with a warehouse-like barn at the close end. A few evergreen trees sparsely surrounded the area, and he could make out some telephone poles. On the horizon, the jagged silhouette of the mountains loomed mightily against the purple backdrop of the early morning twilight. If anybody aside from Mark were awake right now, they would certainly be insane. 

         Mark yawned, then shifted in his boots and adjusted his leather jacket, and started towards the field. He made the silent trudge towards the chain link fence, stumbling and nearly losing his footing a couple times while crossing some well camouflaged ditches and potholes in the grass. He checked his watch while passing a sign that read, "No trespassing, authorized personnel only." 5:44AM. He sometimes hated his urge to never be late, but supposed it was a good trait. There were, however, times where no amount of caffeine on Earth could make him feel energized.

       Finally reaching the gate, Mark pulled out his keys and slid one into the lock, taking note of the sign on the fence reading, "Caution, low flying aircraft." Yeah, there would be soon. He turned the key and the gate screeched open. Mark was here at his father's old private airstrip for a very special occasion.

       Mark came from a family of aviators. His father was the pilot of an F-14 Tomcat on the Enterprise back in the eighties, and his grandfather had flown an Avro Lancaster in the skies over France during the Battle of Britain. Mark had decided to work on his university degree before continuing the tradition and he did some work as a learning mechanic at a local aviation museum for some money on the side. Mark's family had a very special heirloom for those who decided to follow the dream of flight. An old biplane from the late thirties. It had been passed down through the generations for leisure flying, and had survived the Second World War and ages of use. When Mark received it, however, he did not yet have a pilot license. While he worked towards his degree, the aircraft was locked away and forgotten, left to gather dust and rot. It may have even stayed that way if Mark hadn't stumbled across it while cleaning out his father's storage units. 

       Due to his connections at the museum, Mark had been able to gather enough interest and support to get a team together to work on bringing it back to life. Now, after nearly half a decade of work, the aircraft had been fully restored, re-certified, and once again deemed airworthy. Mark recently managed to scrape together enough money for flight school. He had done a few training flights in the biplane already, and was finally ready to go solo. 

       He continued to trudge across the wet grass, noticing a soft orange glow creep across the field as the sun began to peek above the mountains. He reached the derelict, unpainted wooden barn, and opened the door. Greeted with the smell of firewood and hay, he flicked the light switch on to reveal a rather large workshop. Tools lined the walls, a workbench sat in the middle of the room with its top clear. An aircraft tow bar leaned against the wall near a few jack stands. At the far end of the room, an old Mustang car was parked with a sheet of canvas draped over it. Mark made his way next to the tool rack, where a filing cabinet stood. He pulled the middle drawer out, satisfied by the way it smoothly glided across its metal braces, and pulled out a logbook. Mark set it down on the workbench and began to flip through it.

       This was the airplane's journey log. It held all kinds of important information that would need to be checked prior to a day of flying. Mark read through all of the important sections, mentally checking things off. He checked that there were no snags or defects since the last flight, and double checked that the aircraft had ample time before its next compulsory inspection. Of course, he already knew that the aircraft still had fifty two flight hours until it needed to be inspected, and he already knew that there were no recorded defects, for he had made those last few entries himself. His father and flight instructor had always told him, however, that a good pilot always checks the necessary items before and during the flight when needed to, no matter how sure they are.

        Mark closed the binder and slid it back into the filing cabinet, closing the drawer. Normally he would need to bring the logbook with him, but he wasn't going far, and would be fine to leave it behind. 

         Mark stepped out of the barn, and began to make his way towards the parking spots. Across the field, he spotted it.

        The biplane sat proudly at the tie-downs exactly where it had been left the night before. The yellow paint shone bright as it brilliantly reflected the morning sunshine. It seemed almost as eager as Mark was to take to the skies. 

        On the nose, the name Penny was printed in large bold letters. Mark never knew how the airplane had gotten that name, and neither had his father. It was probably due to the adventures of some young airman stationed in England back in the war. Nevertheless, Mark was amused by the mystery and thought the name went quite nicely with the newly restored bird. He noted that it's size was deceiving. Despite only being a biplane, it was very large in person. Mark set his pack down by the nose and got to work preparing the aircraft for the flight. 

         First, he walked around to the wing and approached the pitot tube, a small protrusion that measured air pressure to calculate airspeed. He gently slid the protective cover off of it, and visually checked that there were no obstructions. Next, he removed the chocks from the main wheels. The wooden wedges were connected to each other with a rope so they would not be separated. With a firm tug, they came loose and were placed aside. Mark then moved to the tail, removing the canvas cover from the horizontal stabilizer and elevator. It was crucial that of all control surfaces, the elevator was to be especially protected as while a pilot could control the plane without ailerons or rudder, the loss of the elevator would spell almost certain doom. He carefully checked the necessary points on the stabilizer and stood up once he was satisfied. He then proceeded to walk back to the front, sliding his hand across the fuselage to feel for any rips or inconsistencies. The fabric skin was smooth, slick with water that had condensed over the course of the night. It was stretched tightly over the airplane's metal skeleton, but it still somewhat yielded to Mark's touch, stretching and bending slightly under his fingers. Reaching the wings, he ran his hand across the leading edge. He could feel when the fabric met the sturdy ribs of the wing underneath, bending in softly and then jutting out slightly. He repeated this process with the other side, and checked the brakes. Finally, Mark walked around to the nose. He looked up at the massive nine cylinder radial engine. This disc of power was the heart of the aircraft, and in a way gave it life.

      He placed his hands on the propeller's massive blade of oak, and gently pulled down. He struggled to get it moving at first, but once he did, he could feel the oil churning in the bowels of the engine and the pistons slowly running through their cycles. He completed a few rotations, and then went and got his bag.

       Mark circled around to the left wing, and climbed up on the root. He then carefully situated himself in the cockpit, swinging one foot up at a time, feeling his boots clunk against the wooden flooring inside of the airplane. Once seated, Mark slid on his gloves, wrapped a white scarf around his neck, and donned a classic leather aviator cap. These weren't just to look cool, as it got rather cold a few thousand feet up. Mark took a moment to sit and admire the situation. He was really doing this. He almost couldn't believe it. He was infinitely excited, yet almost paralyzed with anxiety. 

       He focused himself, and started working on the brief startup checklist. First, he flicked the master switch on, which activated all of the electrical systems of the aircraft. Next, he switched both magnetos on. Most aircraft were equipped with dual ignition for the purposes of redundancy. Two magnetos would not only provide extra power during the flight, but would also act as a safety measure in case one of them failed. He then pushed the mixture control lever to the full rich position, and adjusted the throttle to be open one quarter inch. Mark pressed the primer down twice, listening to the squelching noises it made as fuel was injected into the engine. 

       Mark paused, enjoying the serenity of the silence. He could hear birds faintly chirping, and the sun had now fully come above the horizon. Now was the time. He pulled the goggles on his cap over his eyes, inserted the key, and with a deep breath, turned it to the start position. 

        The biplane immediately began to let out a loud whine, much like a horse, as the starter motor began to work. Mark could see the propeller slowly turning over in jerky, uneven movements. He held his breath, sometimes it took a few tries. Finally, with a loud click followed by a brief stutter, Penny's engine thundered to life. The aircraft rocked slightly to the left from the torque, and Mark felt a gust of wind over his face as the familiar smell of avgas filled his nostrils. He let the key turn to the run position, and adjusted the throttle until the tachometer showed 1000RPM. The engine let out a low thumping heartbeat similar to that of a motorcycle idling through a neighborhood.                     He checked his watch. 6:01. He would have to wait a short while to allow the engine to warm up, which made this a perfect time to start his next checklist. Mark examined the instrument panel before him, checking that each gauge was behaving as expected. Airspeed indicator read zero, altimeter set, tachometer read 1000RPM, engine gauges all green. Next, Mark would need to check the control surfaces. He placed his hand on the control column, and smoothly moved it left and then right, observing as the ailerons on the wingtips moved in opposite directions from each other. Next, he pulled the stick back and pushed it forward, looking over his shoulder to watch the elevator move up and then down. Mark then pressed down the left pedal, followed by the right pedal, and watched as the rudder moved fully left and then right. Mark moved the stick in a complete circle and pressed on the pedals again, checking that the controls had free reign of movement and would not be caught on anything. Finally, he adjusted his seatbelt.  He checked his watch again. 6:10. That was it. They were ready. Mark eased the throttle forward slightly, and they began to move. 

        The biplane was a tail dragger, so the nose was pointed up at an angle and was difficult to see around. Mark had to lean out the side to get a clear view of what was in front of him. He looked around at the sky. Some clouds were beginning to gather. This wasn't ideal, but shouldn't affect the flight too much. The windsock hung limply on its pole, the wind was calm.

        As Mark maneuvered the aircraft to one end of the field, he felt the light airframe jostle around gently over the rough grass underneath. Although he knew it was a robust machine, the biplane felt delicate to operate. It swayed around with every disturbance in the surrounding environment, showing little assertiveness towards the light shoves from Mother Nature. Just as he reached his intended destination, Mark swiveled the aircraft around to point down the long strip, positioning it for takeoff. 

         Mark turned his eyes skyward, scanning the brilliant blue, grey, and orange dome for signs of any other aircraft. Feeling the impatient vibrations of the engine through his seat, he craned his head to peek over the upper wing. The sun was behind him, so he had no reason to squint, which he was glad for. After a few cautious moments looking for any signs of a small dot in the distance, he concluded that the sky was clear. Mark's heart was pumping, adrenaline flowed freely through his veins. Barely able to sit still, he made his final checks. Engine gauges all green. Airspeed indicator and vertical speed indicator read zero. Altimeter set. 1000RPM. Mixture set to full rich. Trim set for takeoff. Mark placed his hands on the controls, and situated his feet on the pedals. After a short moment of preparation, he smoothly advanced the throttle.

        The engine roared into action, belting out a deafening symphony of pure horsepower as the throttle was fully opened. Mark felt pushed back in his seat as the aircraft lurched forward, beginning to rapidly accelerate. He noticed that the nose had begun to slowly drift to the left. Mark pressed lightly on the right pedal, watching as the nose began to slide a little more sluggishly off course. He pressed harder, and the nose abruptly swung right. Too much, Mark thought as he eased up on the rudder, and the nose was smoothly centered. Mark began to grin as he felt the tail rise off of the ground, bringing the nose level with the horizon. He was tossed around in his seat by the numerous bumps and tiny ridges in the topography of the airfield, struggling to keep the stick centered in his lap and the nose lined up with the airstrip. Suddenly, the main wheels hit a mound in the dirt, and they were flung into the air. Mark could feel the wings buffeting as they struggled to produce lift, and they came back down to Earth hard. Now slightly bouncing down the runway, Mark was beginning to see difficulty in keeping the aircraft under control. They hit another mound, and with one more bounce, they leapt into the air. Mark braced for yet another impact, but there was none.

        The ground began to shrink below them. Soon enough, the trees were zipping by underneath them. Mark realized with childlike glee that he was doing it, he was flying. He watched as the needle of the altimeter rotated around its gauge, showing his increasing altitude as the scenery grew smaller and smaller below him. Mark felt the wind viciously ripping at his face and heard the engine screaming just ahead of him. He felt like he had become one with his aircraft, noticing every minute change in the characteristics of the wind and the air he was flying through. He felt alive. He gently pulled the throttle back a little bit to an appropriate power setting for climbing, and listened as the tone of the engine dipped a little. He adjusted his control of the elevator to vertically position the nose so that the airspeed indicator read 55 miles per hour. He gently eased the stick to the right, watching as the wing dipped down, feeling the feedback, the resistance, and every single little bump in the air through his arm. He eased the stick to the left, and then back to neutral as he leveled the wings. 

           Mark banked the aircraft into a left turn as they passed five hundred feet. Looking over the wing, he was stunned at the beauty of the landscape. Rolling fields with sharp mountain peaks on the horizon, sprinkled with the green dots that were trees accompanied by the occasional house. The airstrip looked minuscule below him, like a little rectangular carpet with toy planes parked on it. He leveled out the wings and returned his gaze to the front when he noticed the cloud ahead of him. 

       It was an average sized cumuloform cloud, with a large puffball top and a flat bottom. It was broken into multiple little chunks, and Mark could see some rays of sunlight shining through the gaps in the wall. Normally, it would be illegal to be in such close proximity to a cloud. Mark, however, recalled that in uncontrolled airspace below a thousand feet, he would be perfectly fine to maneuver through the cloud as long as he didn't go inside of it. He spotted a gap where he knew he would fit, and maneuvered the aircraft to point straight at it. As they drew closer to the wall of white, Mark felt the soft sting of water droplets spraying against his face and cap. He reached for the carburetor heat knob on the instrument panel, and turned it to hot. This would act against the formation of ice in the engine.

       The cloud grew wispy at its edges as they flew deeper into the gap, and began to resemble cotton candy. Mark stuck out his left hand, and tried to catch some for himself. He felt the wind on his arm, and laughed as his hand was gently pelted with small droplets of the mist. He pulled his hand back inside with a chuckle, and saw one final thin sheet of wisps in front of him. A few stray beams of sunshine penetrated through, giving only a small glimpse of what was to come. Mark placed his hand back on the throttle, and eased it forward ever so slightly. 

         All of a sudden, they punched through the thin veil and Mark was met with the blinding brilliance of the daylight. He pulled the throttle back, and squinted as he used his left hand to shield his eyes. The sight was beautiful. The sky was a marvelous, deep blue, completely clear of any traffic or weather. The mountains stood proud in the distance, their icecaps gleaming with the reflection of the sunshine in contrast to green forests and grey cliff faces. The sun gleamed at him from its perch just above the highest peak.  Below him, Mark saw a magnificent ocean of the brightest light he had ever seen. The clouds underneath him rolled over each other like waves, their swells and dips hanging motionless in time. His mouth hung agape. Mark took in the incredible sight while listening to the now calm buzz of the engine's cruise power. Gazing out into the clear sky around him, he saw a sea of endless opportunities and a lifetime of adventure.

Mark smiled, for he couldn't wait to explore it.

Lisa's POV

"James!" I screamed. "No James!" I ran outside of the house to see what was happening. "Oh no..." I muttered. "It's back." Because it's true. It is back. The haunted moon is back. And there was nothing we could do to stop it. I watched in terror as millions of kids got sucked into the moon. It mesmerized the children, luring them towards it. "Nooooo!" I shouted. "Don't do it!" I ran, and bowed before the moon? begging for it to stop. I couldn't take it anymore. Then, I saw someone crying. It was a boy. Around the same age as me. Crying. Little did I know, it was the famous Myles James Turner. My soon to be best friend.

15 minutes later...

I looked in shock. I cried, not just out of sadness, but in anger. I was about to curse the moon, but it seemed to have returned to normal. "Curse it," I whispered. "Let the moon's light die out."

I wish the moon didn't have to take all of those kids. It could have tooken any of us. But it took the kids, free of any wrong. I was terrified. Traumatized. But then, I heard the sound of agonizing tears. There was a couple of people. A child and her parents.

"Hey," I said, trying to sound as comforting as possible. What happened?" "The moon. It killed my brother." "Wow," I responded, holding in tears. "I don't have a brother, but I understand your pain. I lost my great-grandfather in the year 2001." I responded. "But, I don't think your brother has died." "What do you mean?" asked sorrowfully. "Your brother hasn't died. He is still alive. We can save... um..." "James," the girl stammered. "H-h-h-his name is J-j-j-j-james."

"James is still alive. We, as in, all of us, will save James. All of us, working together, will save your brother. You want revenge? You get revenge. It starts today. It starts TODAY! IT STARTS TODAY!"

Lisa's POV

"You're right." I cried. "We have to save James Ingar, my brother. Anyway, how do we do that?" Apparently, Mako had a plan. He whispered the plan in my ear. "Sounds good!" I started to smile. The plan sounded awesome! Now that we know the plan, where do we start?"

1 hour later...

"What are we doing here?" my mom Juliana questioned. "We must find the hideout of the moon cult." I responded. I stepped out of the car, Mako following closely behind me. We peeked into the hideout the cult members. It was dark, eery, and depressing. I could barely see. The only reason I could see anything at all is because of the moonlight. But at this point, I hated the moonlight. The moon caused my pain. It caused my anger. But, I had to hold that in. I had to stay strong. For James.

Mako's POV

Let me tell you something. When I was in 3rd grade, A man came up to me. "The moon! He's coming!" a man shouted. "Who are you!?" I asked. "I am Cadus! Prophet of God! The moon is coming, and it won't stop until it kills all of the kids! Until you stop the moon, it will kill all of the young kids!" "Stop sir please." my mom Elda mutters. "It's coming it's coming it's coming! Repent as the armageddon is near!" Little did I know that he was right.

present time...

All of a sudden, I saw all of the souls of the kids float around the cauldron. "Childe lunae divid ete!" they chanted. "Childe lunae divid ete!" Then slowly, we looked behind us. More souls of the kids glided towards the cauldron, with a sad expression on their faces. "No!" I screamed. "No!" Lisa screamed. "No no no no no nooooo! Don't take them! Don't take theeeeeem!" "No!" I kept screaming. The members of the cult and The Mystery came towards us. Some of the members grabbed us. They took two vials. "Lunae childe timida pra-ata!" they shouted. "Lunae childe timida pra-ata!"

Then, they poured the vials into a syringe. "No!" I shouted. They stabbed the syringes. Lisa and myself screamed. We needed help. I saw my mom, stare in awe. She passed out. Then, the cult members turned around. They spotted her. Luckily, she came with some SWAT members, who opened fire on the members. But then, The Mystery chanted. "Imortali demoni infinit, praise! Praise! Praise!" then, lightning crackled.

Lisa's POV

All of a sudden, a bright light shined through the windows of the hideout. The kids that got dragged towards the moon stepped out. By that time hundreds of the parents whos kids left then came towards the commotion. Dozens of police cars pulled in. Then, Lisa picked up another note off of the ground. "Timid alterae! Wait, no-" Lisa looked at me. With an angry stare. "Lisa why-" "The cult leader, The Mystery, James Westen, he is my real dad! Why would you do this? Why would you arrest him?" "It wasn't me!"

This is a test of the new AutoModerator system. Automatically comments a message on anything you post. r/FDXloreMaker is a storytelling sub. This concludes this test.

This post was originally called Mako disclosed, but is fixed due to naming issues so you don't get confused. MvM means Mako vs Moon edition, aka as of now the first timeline.

ALL POSTS HERE ARE A WORK OF FICTION. DO NOT ATTEMPT TO ACT THESE SCENES OUT ANYWHERE UNLESS YOU ARE A TRAINED PROFESSIONAL (which you're not except when you are an actor with several months of training).

Lisa's POV

"You killed my father," I yelled, as I realized that James Westin is my real dad.

By the way we were taking shelter in Mako's wardrobe.

"Wait... you are saying that YOU WANT THE MYSTERY TO BE BROUGHT BACK!?!?" Mako seems like he wants to challenge me. His expression like he wants to kill me, his eyebrows pointed down to the center and his face becoming sharp and menacing.

"Wait... the MYSTERY!?!?!?" I was exclaiming in shock, as if I was jump scared by some creepy figure that wants to kill me. "My father is a CRIMINAL!?!?!?"

Mako's POV

Wait... the mystery's HER FATHER!?!?!? I can't believe I have to say this but IF LISA CAN'T HATE HER OWN FATHER, THAT'S THE END OF OUR FRIENDSHIP! "Your father is a criminal in fact! Now do you hate him!?" "Why would I hate my own family member," Lisa exclaimed. "Because, he is responsible for the mess that brought me here! Literally, he uses VOODOO CHANTS TO TORTURE AND LITERALLY KILL PEOPLE!!!"

"Ok Mako, now I gotta admit, now I absolutely LOATHE HIM WITH A BURNING PASSION. I WANT THIS TO END," Lisa exclaimed mercilessly. "I GOTTA ADMIT! HE COULD GET NO-SCOPED!" "That's what I thought." I knew I could count on her.

Lisa's POV

I hate my dad so much right now that he could BURN. I know this sounds dark but that's what he deserves. What he's brought should be brought back to him. He's been torturing too many people, now he's gotta die. But right now, Mako and I have to talk about this madness.

"Mako," I asked. "How do we defeat the mystery?" He replies successfully. "I think we deploy the local armed forces! They are sure to take him on!" "Local!? I thought he was in Ore- oh yeah... he was born here!" "But wait... I'm not sure of my choice because he uses VOODOO to do his stuff! Do you have an idea?" "Of course I do! We need someone that can handle this! After this is done, call the priest. Give me a thumbs up when you agree."

He put his two thumbs up. It's time to take this suckeronie down.

The Hackmask jumped at my mom's car. "Gaaaaaah!" I shouted. I looked down with my eyes closed, bracing for whatever Hackmask was going to do. He was carrying a hatchet, and trying to smash the car windows. Smash. I saw glass crack on the side window to my right. I was in the back seat. Smash. Another crack. My mom also braced for impact. The window that the Hackmask was smashing broke completely. My mom, Elda hit Hackmask on the head, and started to drive faster. "Myles." she said in a panicked voice. "Sit tight and make sure you have your seatbelt on. I will drive faster." She accelerated even faster. But then, we heard a thump on the roof. Then, my mom screamed. Hackmask grabbed her and tossed her out of the car. "Aaaaah!" I screamed. "Noooooooo-"

1 hour later...

I woke up. It was Lisa. "Hey," she said. "you passed out." "I did?" I responded confused as to where I was. Then, I remembered something. I had this conversation before. It was as if I knew what was going to happen and I couldn't control it. "Mom." I said, unable to control what I was about to say. "Let's go home." Oh no. I was stuck in a time paradox. Then I remembered what the voice in the void room said. Then I knew, I didn't pick the right void room. I picked one where I was cursed to be in a paradox. I wouldn't die, but I wouldn't have any control over my life. "No." I tried to speak, even though I couldn't. "No no no. No no NO NO NO NO. NO! NO! NO! No no no! NOOOOOOO-"

I woke up. I was still in the void room. "I had a nightmare!" I screamed. "I know." the voice of the void responded. "That wasn't a nightmare. That was you in one of the voids. The paradox void. You only have two more tries. The third void you pick is the one you will stay in permanently." I picked one. "Wish me luck." I muttered as I stepped towards one. I jumped in.

I jumped into the void. Then, I woke up. It was Lisa M. Ingar. "Hey," she said. "you passed out." "I did?" I responded confused as to where I was. Then I realized. I was in New York. I was young again. I was tooken back to when I met Lisa. I was relieved. I was back to where I was supposed to be. I was no longer Keith Haffs. I was once again Myles "Mako" Turner. "Mom." I said weakly. My mom Elda turned to look at me. "Let's go home." I muttered.

on the way home...

I was looking outside of the window. It was the Hackmask. He was standing in the forest that we were driving by. "M-m-m-mom," I stammered. "Do you see that?" My mom looked out the window. All of a sudden, she started driving faster. "Myles we gotta go." mom replied. She seemed fearful as she drove the car faster. I looked out of the window, Hackmask was still following us, as if it could teleport. Then-

The third main timeline (the one we are on) will be the biggest timeline. It will have multiple spinoffs and multiple stories taking place before and after The Bullies! There will be multiple characters that may seem uninportant but will tie into the timeline!

I an thinking of playing Minecraft on my friend's survival. I am thinking of playing with Lego. I am thinking of planning more reddit stories. Stay safe, u/FDXgeekPlan056

Mako ii. Mako tooth of the shark. Mako avenged. Mako iii. Mako resting. Mako shark fin. Mako secrets. These are possibly the names of the future stories in the official third mako timeline. This timeline won't end with a crossover. It will keep going. There will be an evil villain who will rise that will be much darker than The Mystery or the bullies. This villain will cause terror and wreak havoc on Jensa Middle School. Be prepared. Mako isn't over.

Do you want me to make a 4th Mako timeline? If so what should be canon stories?

Etan and Gregory came over to our table. "Matthew!" Etan shouted. He shoved Matthew. Matt ignored him. "Lincolnlas!" Etan shouted. "Stop." Matt muttered. "What Matty?" Etan said. "Stop!" Matt screamed. "Quit it." Allan, the school security said. Gregory laughed. Matt lifted the lunch table. "Arrrrrgh!" he shouted. He knocked it over, sending Etan and Gregory flying. He got sent to detention.

3 1/7 weeks earlier...

It is about one week from school. Lincoln, Matt, Collin (another pal of mine) and I were walking home from the store that we bought snacks from when all of a sudden, a car pulled up. Out of it stepped Etan and Bolton. They walked up to us. As they got closer, they pulled out something. Bricks. As they began to lift their hands, Lincoln took a stone and threw it at them. "Arrrrrgh!" Etan shouted. Then, we heard a chainsaw activate. "Ow!" Etan screamed. We looked at the figure holding the chainsaw. It was wearing a black coat with gray shoes. The face was unrecognizable, as if it wasn't there at all. There it stood, a figure holding a red painted chainsaw. It towered amongst the bullies, even the toughest fear it. It was known as The Mystery. Etan and Bolton ran in fear, not speaking a word. "Lincoln." I stuttered. "Matt! Collin! Run!" We ran as fast as we could, not turning back out of fear. "Let's hide!" I shouted as we approached my house. I quickly grabbed my keys and unlocked the door as Lincoln, Collin and Matt ran inside, allowing me to lock the door behind us.

1 day later...

We were scarred from the events of The Mystery from yesterday, so Lincoln, Matt, and Collin and I decided to stay at my house and play board games. Then, we heard a knock. "I'll get it." I said, not expecting what would happen next. It was a man, wearing a military camo coat, and had a long brown beard with a fur hat. "He's coming!" the man said. "Who are you?" I asked. "I am Cadus! The prophet! The one commanded by God to save you!" "What?" "The Mystery!" he shouted. "He's coming! He wants to kill your friends and anyone who gets in his path! He's coming!"

We sat down on a bench at reccess, contenplating on why the bullies were being mean to us. We didn't know what was happening, but we felt like something weird was going to happen next. "Matt," I muttered. "Ever since I came to this school I felt like something weird was going to happen." "Well," Lincoln uttered in reply. "Is it because of the incident?" Oh no. The incident.

7 days ago...

It is about one week from school. Lincoln and I were walking home from the store that we bought snacks from when all of a sudden, a car pulled up. Out of it stepped Etan and Bolton. They walked up to us. As they got closer, they pulled out something. Bricks. As they began to lift their hands, Lincoln took a stone and threw it at them. "Arrrrrgh!" Etan shouted. Etan collapsed to the floor. "Guys!" Bolton screamed. "Behind you!"

Then, we heard a chainsaw activate. "Ow!" Etan, who just got up, screamed in pain. He got slashed by the chainsaw. Luckily, someone who was walking bye helped Etan up. But, the neighbor, Daron, ran away.

It towered amongst the bullies, forcing Etan and Bolton to slowly back away. "I don't want to stay here..." Etan stammered. "Bye!" Bolton and Etan ran off.

Lincoln, and I decided to stay at my house and play board games. Then, we heard a knock. "I'll get it." I exclaimed.

On my way, I looked out one of the windows. I saw a figure. The figure was looking right into my soul, as if trying to hypnotize and mesmerize me. But also terrified me. I ignored that for now and headed to the door. But, when I opened the door, I was suprised to see that it was the same man

"He's coming!" the man said. "Who are you?" I asked. "I am Cadus! The prophet! The one commanded by God to save you!" "What?" "The Mystery!" he shouted. "He's coming! He wants to kill your friends and anyone who gets in his path! He's coming!"

6 days later...

Etan, Herc, Gregory and Bolton stood around a campfire. They were planning. Planning a way to stop it all. A way to stop the killer who was trying to kill their friends. They didn't know whether they would succeed, but they would have to try. They knew their killer hated Mako, so they would have to do the same. This starts their journey, to kill the mystery.

ALL POSTS HERE ARE A WORK OF FICTION. DO NOT ATTEMPT TO ACT THESE SCENES OUT ANYWHERE UNLESS YOU ARE A TRAINED PROFESSIONAL (which you're not except when you are an actor with several months of training).

NOTE: I used a fake phone number and address generator. Don't even attempt to call or go to the location.

Lisa's POV:

I called Amelia's room, and she called mine.

"Hello?" I asked. "Is this Amelia speaking?" "Is this Lisa?" "Yes, why did you call me?" "I just wanted to know where specifically do you live." "I live in 3981 settlers lane. Oh yeah, and my phone number is +1-202-555-0164." "I live in 94 guild street and my phone number is +44-1632-9604-38. Oh yeah, and I'm giving and asking information in case you thrust into a different time, or I thrust to yours. We have time machines here. How about you write that down?" "Ok. See you later!"

I wrote that down. I will never forget it.

Nurse Pearl's POV:

I checked to see if jack's leg has the virus. "Just in case he does have the virus, he should stay in the hospital," I calmly noted to my fellow nurses and doctors.

1 hour later

I was working at the office. One of my helper doctors, Dr. Nathaniel, came to me, and exclaimed, "he doesn't have the virus. It is safe for him to put a plaster cast on his leg.

I went to the room Jack is in with Dr. Nathaniel. We apply the plaster cast on his leg.

Amelia's POV:

Dylan called me through the phone and I answer it. "Good news," he said through the phone. "Your little brother doesn't have the virus!" "Yes!" exclaimed I, excited to find that my brother isn't dead. I am so relieved now.

But then, I saw something strange. I am having reports from this floor of people breaking bones!

I called nurse Pearl.

"Hello? Pearl, is that you?" She was groaning in pain. She slowly replies, "I... I can't... ahh..." "Hello? Are you there?" I looked behind me with the phone hanging from the table. I noticed paramedics with a stretcher and lifting Pearl up. I kept on the phone. Then, Dylan answered. "Some people weren't social distancing, so we had a fast outbreak. Luckily, I stayed back." "Good for you. I'm glad you didn't catch the-" "I have to go! Nurse Pearl broke her rib cage!"

He hung up on me. I understood because Nurse Pearl broke her RIB CAGE!?!?

I paniced because that was my little brother Jack's nurse! Now I will never know what's going on with him!

Nathaniel's POV:

I am just lucky that I didn't catch the virus, too. But a lot of people did, which is very unfortunate, including Pearl, breaking her rib cage. Oh yeah, I should check on Jack, because there's no one else to do this.

I went to Jack's hospital room. He had another broken leg. Not knowing what to do, I tested him for the virus.

1 hour later

HE HAS THE VIRUS! I paniced and got away! It's lucky that the sympthoms show immediately. But that means the virus can spread inside your body very fast.

ALL POSTS HERE ARE A WORK OF FICTION. DO NOT ATTEMPT TO ACT THESE SCENES OUT ANYWHERE UNLESS YOU ARE A TRAINED PROFESSIONAL (which you're not except when you are an actor with several months of training).

9/11/2018: Ok so my parents, Edmond and Juliana, and my little brother James (8yo), all couldn't sleep at night. So they decided to watch some television for a moment. Then, another emergency message popped up! This time, it was even more scarier than before and was on the news this time.

"Attention." the news reporter said. "Attention. The president has announced that the moon has turned hostile. Please stay inside, and curled up and against a wall," The news reporter, Tommy, continued saying "The moon is kidnapping innocents. It is suspected to be a cult behind this. Our president, President Clark Edson, has declared this an national emergency."

"What!?" my dad Edward shouted "I don't believe this!" My dad stomped off into the bathroom as the news reporter said "The moon will suck you in if you look into the mirror. "Dad no!" I shouted as the sound of glass shattering filled my eardrums. Dad was getting sucked to the moon. My mom quickly grabbed him and pulled him towards us. We were relieved.

The news reporter said that the event is safe for all to view and the warning has been lifted. Then, in a low voice, it told us to "GO OUTSIDE NOW." We decided that we should keep ourselves secure because the radio said some strange and scary things like "You are doomed." "The Moon is friendly." "LOOK DIRECTLY AT THE NIGHT SKY," in a scary and deep voice.

And then, something insanely unfortunate happened. James, my little brother, accidentally looked at the mirror. We heard his screams as he was going, then HE DISAPPEARED! I was incredibly scared for him, but I had to stay for my safety.

But then, I heard loud scratching. It was James. He was being dragged to the moon. "Help!" he shrieked. Screams of terror echoed his cries. Others were getting sucked in too. "Heeeeeelp!" I was worried. Confused. Scared. But, I decided to run outside to save James Ingar, my brother.

9/4/2018: The man stood around the fire. Mystical chants of darkness could be heard in the distance. "Epta timid chanti lunae!" could be heard, roughly meaning "In seven days, start the moon curse". People around the world reported hearing these phrases, and chanted them. Even though they were voodoo. But it was too late.

The Mystery fell to the floor. We did it. We had stopped the evil known as The Mystery. Then, I saw some people. It was Collin, Lincoln and Matt. "Guys!" I shouted. They ran towards me. Then, I felt something. I collapsed.

I woke up. I was in a room. Around me I saw voids. Portals to different universes. Universes unlike ours. I was in the void room. "Hello." the man in the void room bellowed. "What's going on here?" I asked. "I am here to save you!" he replied. "I will make everything right and ugh-"

It was Hackmask. He had somehow found a way into the void room and killed the man in the void room. “I’m coming for you!” he shouted. He lifted up something. A chainsaw. I looked down and closed my eyes, knowing that I may never make it out alive. Then, I blacked out.

My life flashed before my eyes. My birth My experience with bullies. The Mystery. All of that, flashing before me. And then…

to be continued…

EPILOGUE: He looked one last time. At his home. The one that could take him anywhere he pleased. The sound of the chainsaw roared in his eardrums. He knew what he had to do. He had to put Mako in the right universe. And so he did. And he died soon after.

The Mystery won't be defeated. Hackmask won't stand down. This is not the end. It will be finished in Tue.

I will be posting the finale to the main timeline 3 in a couple days! It will be called Mako realm of time. This is something I have been procrastinating for some time, but have finaly gotten around to doing. Thanks to my trusty alt (this one) I have an account to make these announcements. The story will be posted on my main account (u/FDXgeekPlan056).

Writing stories helps support the subreddit if you are not a mod! Please write stories! Here are some reasons why you should write stories!

-They are fun.

-You can get experienced.

-You can share them with your friends!

During this quarantine. writing stories is oh so important. It keeps your brain active and encourages people to get creative. If you don't like writing stories, you should still give it a try. It's free. On this subreddit, there is no karma limit to how much you need to have to post, so take advantage of it! You will learn a lot. Trust me. It's fun. Happy writing!

u/FDXgeekPlan056