Ok, so this is my first attempt at a fanfic. It isn't the best, but here goes.
Leviathan Fanfic
Alek could feel the violent shudders underneath his feet as the flares pelted the side of the Leviathan. He struggled with the unwieldy controls on the engine, fighting to keep balance with Klopp. Normally he wasn’t allowed out of his chambers, but those stupid engineers for the ship still hadn’t master the techniques enough to controls the air beast during an attack. So Alek was left in charge of the left side of the Leviathan.
Sparks flew in every direction, shocking his arms even through his protection. Oil stained his finger tips. Screams filtered to his ears from the spine, sending tingles down his spine. But his top concern had to be the engines; without them, the Leviathan would be stranded in mid-air.
A sudden explosion ripped through the rattling of the gears and pistons. That had better be one of the German spotters going down. If it wasn’t……he wasn’t going to think about that.
With a screech, the remaining spotters skittered away. The throttle turned blue. Alek heaved a great sigh of relief as he eased on the saunter. It was over. No more deaths to hear with perfect clarity, no more cries of wounded soldiers……sometimes he wondered if he would ever be used to this ugly war.
He and Baurer commented calmly on the multiple problems with the saunters that needed to be addressed to make the Leviathan engineer’s lives easier. So there was that balance problem, the timing problem, the gears and pistons might crack in the cold, of course those idiots might break the saunters by pushing the pedal at the wrong time, oh, and on that matter, the pedals needed adjusting on the height……
Alek was interrupted by the shrill whistle declaring that all hand to the spine. He supposed he was included in the hands. Quickly he stumbled out into the great air beast. He scrambled up the iron stairs and started the climb up to the spine. A small ruckus converted his attention. Bovril was somehow loose in the ship and of course he was ‘becoming more precipitous’, as Dr. Barlow always said. So he scooped the furry creature up and stepped onto the spine.
It was a wreck. Bodies lay everywhere, some moaning, and some lay deathly still. Alek wanted to close his eyes. The sickly and eerie sounds of agony sent his stomach down to his feet. Just keep walking, he told himself. But he couldn’t tear his eyes from the bodies. All of them had families, people who loved them, maybe children, and now they were gone forever. The families will probably get an abrupt and brief explanation of what happened, from a complete stranger.
One soldier, he noticed was wearing a sloppily made bead bracelet, maybe from a child. One was wearing a locket which could have pictures of loved ones in it. Another body was sporting a strangely tailored uniform, just like the one Dylan always wore…
Suddenly Alek was running. Running towards that body that couldn’t be his best friend. No, no, no, was all he thought. It must be another person. Not invulnerable Dylan.
He knelt down next to the crumpled figure. Spotting a whistle, he clumsily blew the familiar notes he had heard come the various crew and, occasionally, Bovril. It would take some time for a doctor to find them, Alek reckoned, and Dylan might need fast attention.
Alek pushed his panic back. He had to. For Dylan. Ok, he thought. What is the most pressing problem? Well that was easy. Any wounds. A quick check over the showing skin revealed nothing, and most of the…blood…was coming from under the shirt. He steeled himself for any gore, and peeling back the shirt. But there was already a bandage around his chest. Alek frowned. He didn’t think that Dylan had any earlier injuries to speak of. Studying the wrappings more closely, he noticed that there was a strange curve to them, an almost feminine touch. And now he realized that the rest of the body was oddly curvy too. Not like a boy’s at all. More like…oh no.
Bovril scampered up to Alek’s shoulder. “Mr. Sharp,” he said with a giggling sound.
