Yep, you'll never guess what, it's another update. No, you're not hallucinating . All though, it's been so long, you might want to go back and re-read some of the earlier stuff so that this next chapter makes sense. Chapter 4The Horror Begins…
“Zim, this lesson began five minuets ago, sit down.”
Zim marched through the door to class, whistling to himself. He was late, as usual. And, as usual, no one took any notice - apart from Dib, who stared at him accusingly from across the classroom.
“Class,” continued Ms Bitters, “Today we shall be discussing the failures of our society, and how you will one day inevitably contribute to it…”
Zim, who had sat down, was still smiling conceitedly to himself. Dib glared at him. “What’s so funny, Zim? Got another plan to destroy the earth?” He pointed accusingly in the green boy’s direction, making the rest of the class turn and stare. “You’re up to something!”
In his human disguise of wig and contact lenses, the invader stared back at Dib innocently. “Me? Up to something? How dare you accuse Zim of such treachery against my fellow meat-smells! I would never hurt anyone.”
The class turned back on Dib, staring at him reproachfully. Sighing, Dib turned away moodily towards the window. No one would ever believe him, would they?
Back across the classroom, Zim turned back to face the front, his grin broadening. From his seat he began to cackle quietly. “Mwaahahaha…hahahaha…!” Dib snapped his head round back to face him, and Zim immediately stopped, sitting bolt up right. “H’em,” - he cleared his throat.
At this point, a red flashing light and siren blared out from an alarm built on the side of the classroom wall. Ms Bitters growled, snatching up the receiver of the phone on her desk. “Yes, what is it?” she snapped down the line. She listened, occasionally hissing down the line from time to time. Quickly Ms Bitters slammed the phone back down, a trapdoor opening and engulfing it in flames. “Class, in recognition of national gluttony day, the school principle is allowing you to spend an extra hour over lunch.”
The class cheered.
“However,” Ms Bitters cut in like a knife, “It is not lunch break yet, so you will all turn your horrible textbooks to page 672 – in SILENCE.”
The class groaned, beginning to flick through their textbooks.
“But Ms Bitters,” said Dib, putting up his hand and frowning. “There are only 671 pages in the textbook.”
Ms Bitters hissed at him unpleasantly. “I said in silence, child!”
The mood on Planet Dirt had changed. There, amongst a crowd of Irken Janitors who had assembled, lay a sinister sight.
“Out of my way!” growled the Boss of the squad, shoving Irkens out of the way left right and centre, as he tore towards the scene. “For Irk sake, get out of the –” He paused midway through pushing another Irken away as his red eyes met the object in the centre of the crowd.
“No.” The anger died in his throat, as it was replaced with a numb horror. “Hatch?”
There was blood on the ground – Irken blood. The body of Janitor Hatch lay there, spread-eagled in the mud. His body was lacerated from head to foot – even his Pak, which lay on the floor in tatters. The Pak had been ripped away mercilessly from the Irken’s back – his only life support, taken from him and destroyed beyond repair. Hatch’s face, covered in his own blood, was fixed like stone. His still, wide red eyes seemed to stare straight at his boss, as if the young Irken could actually see him.
The Irken boss stepped towards Hatch’s body, letting the cold dead eyes of his worker bore into his own. Who had done this? What had done this? None of the operating machinery on the planet could have done that to him…so what did?
Hatch had already answered that one for them. Around him lay discarded tools and SIR unit parts that he’d been in the process of fixing together. On one fragment close beside him, he had etched three initials into the metallic surface, which was now stained with his own blood.
The initials read: ‘Z.I.R’.
The Janitorial Boss stared down at the letters. He recognised them. If he hadn’t been shaken by the death of an employee, he was certainly shaken now.
He called over a highly-promoted member of his staff. “Set up a communications line with The Massive immediately! This is far more serious than we thought...”
“G…IRRR…” called a lowered robotic voice from the Kitchen.
GIR had been on the living room floor of Zim’s house, humming to himself. He stuck his tongue out in concentration as he tried to make a smiley face out of Suck-monkey straws. However at the mention of his name, his blue eyes turned inquisitively towards the Kitchen. The lights had all gone out, and as the only other source of light came from the widows at the front of the house, the Kitchen was in almost complete shadow.
“Stay still, GIR…” came the voice again. The outline of a SIR unit stepped out from the shadows. Its eyes switched from duty-mode red to a glowing, shiny black, and its twisted mouth grinned slowly. “Stay perfectly still, GIR, perfectly still
As ZIR stepped closer, he drew out a set of ominous mechanical equipment from an invisible compartment in his side, holding them up against the dim light. They were stained with blood. GIR stared up at them blankly.
ZIR’s grin only grew wider. “Time for you to be…decommissioned,” the robot told GIR, his dark shiny eyes narrowing. ...End of Chapter 4