The Fight For The Movellas Throne

In the kingdom of Movellas, King Jordan Philips ruled over the people, and everyone was happy. Until, that is, the neighboring kingdom, the land of the Directioners, declared war. Townsfolk were forced into hiding, and soon the Royals of the Kingdom had disappeared. Few must rise up, to help conquer the Directioners once and for all, and find the Royals of Movellas!

WARNING: This is an anti-One Direction fiction. I'm very much against them in my writing, so please don't have a go at me, saying 'How could you say that?' because IT'S A BIT OF A JOKE. NO OFFENCE INTENDED. THANKS. Anyways, enjoy!

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7. Chapter 6

Blinking in the darkness, Imogen's head felt heavy and fogged. Her surroundings were just as confusing; everything seemed black as pitch. Sorrow seemed to hang like a thick smog around her, clogging up any rational thoughts.

Was this what writer's block felt like? All alone, with no ideas even worth jotting down? Not that she had anything to jot her thoughts down on anyway, since her quill had been taken.

She wasn't alone though. More bleak shadows surrounded her, gently moaning and mumbling in the darkness. When she dared to get up, Imogen inspected the figures. A sigh of relief came when two of them turned out to be Lia and Zoe, as she gently tried to wake them up. Neither stirred, so she attempted to investigate the other four figures slumped limply against the wall. They all woke quickly, and they all gasped along with Imogen.

"Y-you mean, you're actually here?!" the first, whom Imogen soon recognised as Princess Hollywood, stammered. "You're real?"

"I thought you were all dead!" Prince Bash gasped, barely.

"We've been here for... ages." Princess Feather groaned. "No...original ideas."

The last, Princess IceCream, was first to her feet. Clearly coping best of the four royals, she explained: "There's no time to tell much, but I think you have to know how we got here. The Directioners are starving us of our quills and our notebooks, so Bash can't even get his new fantasy stuff down. You must have your- oh." She stopped, as Imogen turned out her pockets grimly, showing her lack of quills.

"Come on," Imogen said. "Tell me more later. We HAVE to get out! Now!"

"Now?" Came a sinister voice from the previously non-existent doorway. "There's no rush - it's impossible to escape anyway, for a simple-minded Movellian."

Standing in the doorway, was someone who was once a figure of what every Movellian stands for: of bravery, original ideas, and awesomeness.

Standing in the doorway, was King Jordan Philips.

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