The Story of a Narrator is a story written by Order of the Command Block.


Order's Narrator has his secrets, some he keeps to himself, others he lets go. This is what happened before he finally came to the SAMB.



  • Narrator
  • Callie
  • Edwin
  • Elsa
  • Order of the Command Block/Order
  • Policiamalo/Poli


  • Mevia
  • Hadrian
  • Otto
  • Harper

Minor CharactersEdit

  • Red Team
  • Green Team
  • Blue Team
  • Purple Team


Tim gripped the cold sphere in his hands, smoothing it over and packing the icy contents within like cement. Then, like lightning, he sprung up and flung the snowball at the red head trying to commando crawl to a snow dune. It smacked her in the shoulder, breaking on impact and splaying snow bits all over the girl.

"Gosh DANG IT, Tim!" She shouted. The boy heard loud footsteps before the snow wall he was behind was promptly destroyed by his friend as she tackled him. Their cries of laughter echoed across the snowy woods, just on the edge of a small village. The girl was named Elise, one of Tim's best friends.

"Yo, Tim! You done being beat up by Elise or what?" A masculine voice shouted. Tim promptly shoved Elise off him and sat up, grinning in the direction of the voice. A dark skinned male stood just a little bit off from the two, black eyes glinting with mischief. He had messy black hair that covered one eye, a red shirt, black sneakers, and baggy, blue jeans. The boy sauntered over to Tim and held out a hand.

"Come on, you now she couldn't land a scratch on this fabulousness, Ethan," Tim said with a joking tone and a smirk, taking his friend's hand.

"Oh REALLY?" Ethan responded, eyes darting to the right. Tim ducked, spun around, and grabbed the brown cowgirl boot about to hit his side before he even finished taking a breath. Elise laughed, a small smile tugging at her lips. She had on her normal brown blouse, blue jeans, and cowgirl boots. Her lime green eyes sparkled in the sunlight that seeped through the thin layer of leaves.

"Yeah, OK, Mr.Fabulous, we know, you're super cool or whatever," she said with another smile. The three friends got up and walked back to the warm village.

It wasn't much; about 30 houses were there, with nice stone roads connecting them. A much larger and fancier road led to the city a bit off away, the entrance being a metal gate. Tim and his friends never went to the city, nor did they go to the gate. A girl with long blond hair and bangs ran over to them, grinning and moving stray hair out of her black eyes.

"Ethan! Ethan! Mom said I could hang out with you guys past curfew!" She exclaimed, jumping up and down.

"Whoa, Chloe, sis, chill," Ethan laughed, ruffling the girl's hair with his hand, "it's not like it's Christmas or something, you can always hang with us." Chloe hugged her brother. Tim laughed as he watched the two. Elise was born on the same day as him, but they weren't related. Ethan was older by a week, and Chloe was about a year younger than the trio. While they were all 14, Chloe was still 13, and her parents usually didn't let her leave the house much. Elise toyed with the curls on her short hair, then started laughing.

"Ok, I'm sorry, but I love seeing the difference between you two," she said.

"Ey! Chloe and I are EXACTLY alike!" Ethan protested.

"Yes! I am exactly like Ethan!" Chloe piped up, imitating Ethan's stance with a joking smile.

"See? Wait... Dang it! Stop messing with me, dudes!" He exclaimed, laughing. Elise high fived the blond girl. Then a woman stepped out of a nearby house and pointed at Tim.

"Tim! Get inside! Dinner!" She shouted, her brown eyes seemingly staring into her son's soul. She had light brown hair in a bun, a simple tank top, and a pencil skirt with heels. Then the door slammed shut.

"The beast has summoned you," Ethan mocked. Then flinched as if expecting a slap. Tim tensed, but didn't do anything. It was a joke, after all. His mother was very stern and showed no compassion for him whatsoever, but she was his mom. And Ethan wasn't worried about his best friend retaliating, it was a reflex from the MOTHER of said best friend retaliating. Tim quietly went inside.

"Clean yourself up before you even touch that table, Tim," his mother said, voice dripping with venom. Tim still did not utter a word, he walked to the bathroom and washed his hands and wiped the snow off him. Then he checked himself in the mirror. Light blue eyes met his, and he took note of the light brown hair that was somehow messy and neat at the same time, giving him that "cute and handsome" look, as some girls called it. Tim noted his expression change. He knew how he looked outside of the house: smiling, happy, bright, cheery, and perfect. Inside of the house he seemed to be turned off. No emotion, no words, no laughter, and nothing to show he ever saw joy in his eyes. The perfect child to his mother. He said nothing, asked for nothing, and obeyed without question.

Shouting. Someone was shouting. Flash of a knife. Cold steel. Red. More screaming. Black. Nothing.

Tim blinked and shoved the memory away. That was a long time ago. That was when stupid five year old Tim wanted love.

That was when stupid five year old Tim knew what being slashed felt like.

The boy quickly wiped the emotion off his face and quickly -yet still silently- walked to the table. He stopped before touching anything, waiting for his mother's permission. The brown eyes met his blue ones, then scanned the rest of the lean figure. There was nothing else said.

That was permission.

Tim quietly sat down and quietly ate his food; his food consisted of an apple. Cut into slices, yes, but an apple at heart. After finishing his "dinner", Tim got up, cleaned his plate, and sat back in the chair and waited for his mother to finish her meal. Her meal was actually a meal, steak, a small salad, and a few pistachios. Once his mother had finished, she glanced up at him once.

That was another signal.

Tim stood, grabbed the plate and her glass (He already had his cup of water in the morning and that was all he could have until the next morning), and cleaned them up. Rubbing them dry with a spare cloth, he put them in their places without making a single sound. The wet cloth was put back in the proper place. For a fleeting second, he'd forgotten the next step. Mother never waits for you, no permission is needed after you have cleaned. You may go into your room and only your room, though the window is an exit mother will not refuse. A monotone thought whispered in his mind. Tim went back to his room, opened the window, and jumped out after barely keeping it open. Darkness was already dominating the majority of the sky; it was a bit after sunset. Remembering his friends had gone home to eat around this time, Tim started walking around for amusement. It was after a little he saw an adult female walking around, as if searching for something. Her hair was pale blue and she had black eyes like an onyx. She wore a red and black dress that didn't really seem appropriate for the weather, too.

Oh, I get it, she must be someone from the city, I guess? Maybe a relative invited her to a party but she didn't know it was cold? Actually, both sound pretty basic and lame. She doesn't look like she knows where she is going. He thought. The woman's skin was pale, like someone with albinism. He walked over to her.

"Hello, I'm Tim. I don't recognize you, are you lost?" He said, trying to be polite. He didn't want to ask for a name; he had no use for names. The woman turned to him and returned the politeness.

"Oh, hello, I am Mevia. Nice to meet you, Tim. I am looking for something, but I don't think you could help me with that. My cousin lives here and says she has the cold or something, but she lost an item of hers and had me drive all the way over here to find it," she said, showing curtesy and annoyance in the proper places. It all seemed so legit. Tim could see the woman coming to help family, she seemed nice enough.

"What's the item? I can help look," Tim provided.

"Oh, well, argh, I'm so stupid! She forgot to tell me what it was and I was too scatter-brained to ask! I'll just have to go to her house and ask," Mevia said distastefully, planting her palm on her face. She sighed and started walking away.

"Oh, hey, Tim! There you are!" A familiar voice cried out. Mevia stopped and turned around, startled by the sudden noise. Tim already knew it was Ethan. And by the sound of it, Chloe and Elise were with him.

"Who's she?" Elise asked, giving an annoyed and confused look at Tim. She'd always lectured him about being so open to people, but the kind boy didn't really listen. He knew what to say and what not to say. Mevia was still confused it seemed, her eyes seemed to scan Tim's friends. Then she turned and walked off. The blue-eyed boy hadn't realized what he had seen before his blood ran cold. Mevia had nodded.

And it was a permission nod. Two large figures seemingly came out of nowhere and flanked Tim's friends. The boy turned to face Mevia, already crouching into a fighting stance.

"Oh, please, Tim, don't make me laugh. I've been keeping an eye on you for a LONG time. I thought I'd have to find you all but you found me first," she said. All traces of kindness were gone. She had been acting. She had fooled him. A low growl escaped Tim's throat. Mevia chuckled. Chloe cried out in pain. Tim whirled around to see one of the larger figures with plenty of muscle gripping the frail child's shoulder.

"What do you want, Mevia?!" Tim shouted, not even looking at the traitor anymore.

"Come with me, and they wont get killed right now," she said. Tim nodded without even thinking. Ethan and Elise shouted something, but then something solid connected with his head. Black consumed his vision as his body crumpled into a heap on the ground.