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Rated: 13+ · Book · Fantasy · #2138603
A young man deals with the teenage problems of relationships, family, and elementals
#922605 added February 28, 2018 at 1:06am
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Chapter 6
         I plodded home along a grey city sidewalk, under a grey sky, next to grey windows reflecting grey buildings on the other side of the street. Cars rushed by on the asphalt, the constantly busy urban life still unchanged. People milled up and down the pavement, pushing past me, around me, and if I wasn’t careful, through me. I wasn’t small by any means, but I wasn’t important enough to warrant anyone paying attention to me. So I did my best and headed home without interrupting anyone’s schedule.
         For a Friday afternoon, the streets were still pretty crowded. It could have been better to take the bus, but I felt like walking. Sometimes I just needed the extra time to think.
         Life had begun to settle into a smooth schedule. Wake up, school, work, moderate free time, then sleep. It was organized, easy to follow, and not terribly challenging. And it was driving me crazy.
         Serah hadn’t spoken to me since the cafe, so I wasn’t sure if she was trying to start something and I had inadvertently screwed up somehow, or if there was something else going on. The glass on my right waved as pale shades of grey flicked across its surface. I swiveled my head around, watching the world as the sun peeked out from behind a dense cloud momentarily, before another came along to mask it again. The rippling of the world was almost aquatic, various tones of light and dark swimming over everything, everyone.
         I came to a crosswalk and halted, paying mild attention to the cars zipping by a few feet in front of me. I saw glimpses of myself, brief flashes in windows, too fast to truly see myself. I breathed deeply, in and out. The rush of warm air through my nose was more prominent as the rest of my face was still chilled, with a slight breeze brushing against me from my right. I turned and looked in that direction. Dark clouds blotted out the sky, a definite storm making lazy time to reach the city.
         The crosswalk flipped colors, and I started across, other pedestrians skirting around my ambling pace. My mother had been a bit distant lately, but I had expected that, considering our circumstances. What I hadn’t expected was her to be so… joyful. I had expected more sorrow, more despair, more, well, mourning. But she seemed quite pleased with life lately. I wasn’t exactly sure what was making her so happy, but at the same time I wasn’t really sure if I wanted to know. Life at home was better with my mother bringing a warmer atmosphere wherever she went.
         My sister wasn’t quite so different. When she wasn’t working or hanging around the house, she was out on the town, much like me. Although she tended to frequent the shopping centers in the day, and make the rounds among the bars and clubs at nights. I wasn’t sure how many friends she had made here, but she wasn’t the type to go out bar-crawling on her own. And I wasn’t aware of her bringing anyone home either, or her coming home incredibly drunk. And I had actually run into her late at night as we both came back from whatever it was we were doing at 3 am. She had always seemed mostly there, and alone too. Maybe she just liked socializing? That would suit her just as well too.
         Coming back in the early hours of dawn was quite common for me now. Unlike my sister’s nighttime romps, I was still out exploring the less-frequented areas of the town. The industrial district, the wharfs, the markets, I was becoming quite familiar with them. And more familiar with how to evade night guards, cameras, the works. I never went into anything that was explicitly marked as trespassing, but anywhere where I could feign being lost if caught, I saw as fair game.
         Though I never went back to the docks. I hadn’t thought much about that night, at least, not as much as I should have, but the holes in my jacket were still there, proof that those events had actually happened. I was still trying to decide whether or not it actually mattered. So Vincent Maghold was meeting scary people and trading spooky boxes in a dock warehouse at night. Who was I to get involved in Vision business? Hell, I had even skipped all those “great opportunities” provided to our school students. It wasn’t like I had any reason, or grounds, to uncover their operations. I wasn’t some lousy reporter.
         It would be better to just forget the whole thing. Push that night out of my mind, avoid the docks, and find some way to patch up my jacket. Yeah, that would be better. Learn to let go, as they say. I had enough problems already, I didn’t need to manufacture my own ones involving whatever Vision was…
         My line of thought was broken by an odd feeling racing down the back of my neck. I slowed my gait, much to the annoyance of those trying to swerve around me, but I was too busy paying attention to give them thought.
         I didn’t turn my head around, that would be too much of a sign. I watched out of the corner of my eye, looking up, down, left, right. Nothing strange that I could see. Just the normal sidewalk traffic. The windows on the upper levels of all the buildings reflected the greying light back at me. I pursed my lips and took a slow breath to calm my nerves. I had to focus now. Rounded a corner, I began making my way down one of the market streets. The feeling followed me around the bend.
         I strolled past a couple of shops before stopping in front of one, pretending to window shop. I scrutinized the reflection, carefully studying the people passing behind me. But everyone seemed to be absorbed in their own worlds, too busy to be looking at mine.
         I brought my wrist up and looked down at it, then mentally kicked myself. Honestly, that was such an odd habit. I looked back up at the store, looking at the merchandise. Watches of various prices looked back at me. I had stopped in front of a watchmaker’s store. God, I hated irony sometimes.
         The sensation moved from my neck and began crawling down my spine. I felt sweat begin beading up on my palms as my mouth went dry. The feeling changed as well. I was quite certain that there was more than one now. I studied the window again, trying to find at least one of these pairs of eyes, but nothing had changed.
         You have to move I told myself. Standing here for too long would look too suspicious. With a great effort of will, I pushed my legs and began walking again. With each step, I tried focusing on my breathing. In. And out. Nice and easy. It was taking a lot of effort to keep my legs from shaking, or from bursting out into a run. I was beginning to feel a lot like a mouse in an alleyway all of a sudden.
         Bad image. Push that away. Focus. Plan. Simple words. Good Leo. Okay. Now What?
         Suspects. List them. I continued along the street, turning corners where it would keep me in sight of the most people. Who could it be. Enemies? Not that I knew of. I hadn’t been too antagonizing at school. Muggers? No, wouldn’t tail me here, too many people. And there were better targets.
         No help. Next step. Destination. Home? Safest place. Time of day, there would be some people there. Good to get indoors. Okay. Route.
         Need to get home. Stay near people, more witnesses. Safety in numbers, right? Good, got a plan. I took a deep breath, hearing it shudder in the air. I tried it again, another breath. This one was more stable. Good. Progress. Little victories.
         I adjusted my course, and started heading back to the cafe. I quickened my pace, matching that of the people around me. There was no hope of blending in. I was already marked, and besides, I was dressed too distinctly. Curse my unique sense of wardrobe.
         I was about halfway there when I turned a corner, and strode into an empty street. Uh-oh.
         “Uh-oh,” I echoed. This was bad. I immediately turned a 180 and started back towards the street I had come off of when I heard something scrape along the ground behind me. Against my better judgement, I froze.
         Silence. I took a step forward. Or tried to. My body budged a little, but my leg refused to follow. I grit my teeth, and bit my fingernails into the palm of my hand. “Come on!” I screamed at myself. “Move!” I managed a single shaky step, my whole body falling forward.
         The same scraping noise echoed behind me. “It’s not getting closer,” I thought to myself, “That is just your imagination.” As if to spite me, the noise sounded out a third time, definitely closer than before. It was harsh, coarse, kinda like if someone was dragging something thin and metallic across concrete.
         My imagination was way too active for its own good. I stood there, battling against myself on whether to run, or to, heaven forbid, actually turn around. “Turn around? Are you crazy? You know that guy in horror movies who investigates the sound of a meat cleaver being dragged across the wall? Yeah, you would be that guy. Don’t be that guy.” I bit my lip, desperately trying to force myself into action. My heart was racing, the sounds of it beating the only sound I could hear now.
         Except for that single footstep directly behind me.
         That did it. I sprung forward, panic finally forcing my legs into motion. I didn’t even round the corner, the only thought guiding me was the word “away”. Just get away. It didn’t matter where, or how, just away from that awful sound.
         I was scared. I was beyond scared. I was utterly terrified. I had felt fear before, but those times were different. That was fear for someone else. That was fear for my emotional being. That was fear for my status as a person. This. This was a fear of my physical being. This was a fear for my survival.
         I was going full speed, the buildings on my right passing in a blur. I had no idea where I was going, as long as it was forward. I was completely caught up in keeping my legs moving, in moving away from that scraping, that I had just registered that there was an alley on my right, when a blow from my left sent me hurtling into it.
         I crashed into the ground, the unforgiving asphalt refusing to give against me, and I was sent bouncing until I came to a merciful rest. My limbs stung, the multiple points of contact with the ground actually tore through some skin, and I could feel blood welling up along my arms and legs. Between the pain and post-panicked flight, I could barely focus on my surroundings. It was too much work just too breath. My heart was still beating rapidly, and my throat hurt every time I sucked down air. All I could do was lie there, feeling the sharp bites of pain and listening to my own ragged breaths.
         As my vision came into sharper focus, I could make out a large form approaching me. The alley was poorly lit, but it was definitely a very large man. This guy probably benched more than the entire wrestling team put together.
         He came to a stop some distance away. All I could see was his legs, massive trunks almost as wide as my torso. I couldn’t even turn my head to look up at him, it hurt so much.
         More footsteps echoed along the walls. Two more pairs of legs, one feminine on the right, the other on the left masculine, though much thinner than the behemoth’s before me. I tried pushing myself up, but all I could do was lift myself about an inch before collapsing again, letting out a sob as I hit the ground again.
         The figure in front spoke, a low, rumbling voice, “Is this really the one? I remember them being harder to catch.”
         The legs on the left responded, “Yeah, it really didn’t do anything impressive. Even ran slower than them. Are we sure this is the one we want?” His voice was oily, smooth. I had the image of a snake in my mind as I listened to him speak. The scraping sound came again, from his direction. I twitched in response to it, and he noticed. “Well, look at that. It’s already conditioned. That was quick.” A more direct clang sounded out, and I could see a sword impaled into the ground. The blade had a slight curve to it, and was fashioned from glistening metal. But there was a large assortment of nicks and scratches along the blade edge.
         The third voice spoke then. I was surprised at the sound of it. It sounded musical, with inflected tones and pitches. It was almost absurd hearing a voice that attractive, given the situation I was in. “Does it matter what it did? It’s here, right? Let’s just grab it and go. You two always take so long playing with your prey.” I shuddered at that last word. I felt a shift, and I’m pretty sure the woman was addressing me as she said, “Pathetic.”
         Calling me prey? Pathetic? Like hell. I steeled my will and forced myself up. My legs burned with exhaustion, but I managed to stand there, wavering. I pulled my gaze up and confronted my assailants.
         The man in the middle towered over me, like a mountain. But what struck me first was what they were wearing. Black uniforms, and although they had no logo, they were definitely Vision designed. In fact, they looked very similar to the black uniform that woman was wearing that night on the docks. The only difference was the distinct lack of ornaments. Compared to her, these three looked positively spartan in appearance.
         I looked further up. All three of their faces were covered by masks. Matte black With only a shimmering visor to indicate where their eyes were. No other defining features were present, aside from their sizes and bodies.
         The man on the left laughed, a hissing, mocking sound. “Look at that. It’s trying to get up. You’re not really thinking of fighting, are you? We’ve been trained to specifically deal with your type.”
         The woman waved her hand at him, “Now now. Let’s see what it can do. I’m always curious to see if they learned anything different from the others.” Her gaze slid over to me. “Come on then, sweetheart. Surprise me.”
         I rocked back and forth on my feet, confused. Was she inviting me to attack? But what kind of attack? The way she was speaking, it was like she was waiting for something else to happen.
         The man in the middle growled. “This is taking too long. We should have been gone by now. It’s obvious he doesn’t actually have anything, and we’re not even sure if he knows anything either-” rude “-but it’s still better to make absolutely sure.” He took a step towards me and before I could react, had planted a punch directly into my sternum. I doubled over, all the precious air I had managed to reclaim knocked out of me. Still bent over, I couldn’t see his hand come hurtling at me. It was only a backhand, but it was like getting hit by a truck. I was launched into the air and sent soaring back down the alley.
         Or I would have, if there was more alley to go down. Instead, I collided with the wall at the rear with a sickening crunch, and my vision exploded into white as the whiplash introduced my head to the brick. I crashed into the ground for the second time that day, and I definitely whimpered as I lay there. I’m not ashamed to say it. Anyone would have, in my condition.
         There was no hope of getting back on my feet. The smallest motion brought tears to the corners of my eyes. The ground swam in front of me, and I could barely make out the three forms advancing on me. Rain had begun falling, small droplets splashing against my cheek and along the ground. I shut my eyes tightly, my last defense against what was coming. I tried curling up into a ball, but even that was too much.
         As I lay there, awaiting whatever came next, I became intensely aware of everything around me. The feeling of cold, damp ground underneath my right cheek, and small drops of water falling on my left. The only sounds? Measured footsteps and irregular splashing. My vision was black, my future hidden from me by murky darkness. Until it was replaced by shimmering gold.
         Huh? I cracked open my eyes a sliver, and the first thing I noticed was the entire alley bathed in a shimmering golden glow. The three figures had stopped, and I realized they had turned around and were looking at something at the mouth of the alley. I shifted a bit to try and get a better view, but that sent a lance of pain shooting through my abdomen, and I clenched my eyes shut again, fighting back tears.
         So I had to get by with listening only. The first thing I heard was a low rumble speaking, “Didn’t think you’d have made your way up here. You sure you want to get involved?” No answer. Just the sound of increasing rainfall, the gentle pattering gradually climbing its way up to a torrent. I was thoroughly soaked at this point. Anywhere my escaped blood wasn’t warming me, I could add bone-chillingly cold to the list of sensations I felt.
         There was a step. Large, heavy, and close. Another step, further away. A measured march towards the golden light. Were they addressing it? Odd thing to do, speaking to a spotlight.
         Each step was accompanied by a rise in tension. The air was charged with conflict, everyone in that alley tense and ready. Or almost everyone. My muscles were burning too much to really do anything at this point.
         Apparently one of us couldn’t handle the stress. I heard a hissed, “Damn it all.” before a second pair of steps went rushing off, at a quicker pace down the alley. The footsteps were accompanied by a sharp snick, and then he was off. The only response to this was a quick “Wait!” before the walls echoed with the scuffling feet. Laying there with no vision, I was able to discern between the quick shuffles with the complementary swishing of a blade slicing through air, and another beat. Measured steps, muffled to the point of almost being silenced.
         This shuffling around continued for a handful of seconds before it was ended by a sickening crunch. Almost the kind of sound one would expect to hear from a skull slamming into brick at high speed. I couldn’t tell to whom the skull belonged to, but the remaining two skulls near me must not have liked it, as I could hear two pairs of feet shuffle near me.
         I took a couple deep breaths, and opened my eyes again. The floor still looked like the ocean in a storm, but I was able to make out the two remaining suits fighting a golden… thing? It was difficult to make out, and my impaired vision wasn’t helping, It seemed to just be a floating orb of golden light bouncing around the alley. It was leaping off walls, coasting through the air, and ricocheting off the ground as it clashed with the two assailants. Each collision was marked with the same muffled footstep, the only reason why I believed that there was something human within that orb.
         While I was working on trying to get my vision to keep everything within the proper three dimensions, there was a sudden squawk from the other end. I could see the slimmer of the two black-clad figures collapse after taking a strike from the orb. Now with only one opponent, the orb suddenly sped up, pinballed off the ground and wall, and rushed into the large man still standing. Two large arms were raised to protect against whatever assault he was coming under, but it was plain to see he stood no chance as he wilted against the orb’s advance. There was a very audible whud- even though there was no visible weapon- and the man collapsed, in tune with my own mentally shouted, “Timber!
         Seeing my attackers defeated, I once again tried to lift myself up, but I probably pushed myself too far this time, as I fell down and my vision began tunneling. All I could do was gaze down the alley as the orb approached me slowly sharpening into some semblance of focus. I could make out two legs, which were stepping over one of the prone forms on the ground. Seemed like two arms, and a head. That was normal. What wasn’t normal were the two golden wings extending from the figure’s back.
         Bright gold and apparently feathered, they were the source of the blinding light. As I rapidly lost consciousness, all I could think was, “Great, freaking angels now” before my mind slipped into oblivion.

         Tanya Cayle looked out the window at the dark Seattle night. The street was painted with streaks of gold, lights thrown out by the late-night shops through their windows. Rain pelted the glass and street alike, giving a few surfaces sufficient moisture to reflect the streetlights in haunting forms of yellow. The clock on the wall read 1:43, but Leonidas was still nowhere to be seen. Tanya blew air out between her lips in an annoyed burst, and quietly whispered to herself, “Dammit Leo, where the hell are you?”
         Tanya had been excited all day to go out on the town with her friends, rain or no. She had seen a few cute guys recurring at the clubs she was beginning to frequent, and was hoping she might see them again to introduce herself. She had her dress and shoes picked out, and makeup ready, and all she had to do was wait for night to fall.
Then her idiot brother had to disappear.
         Tanya looked back at the staircase. Initially, her mother had only been annoyed that he would miss his shift, but after dinner passed with still no sign, she had escalated to actual panic. She had been inconsolable, and had only recently gone upstairs to sleep. Tanya was relieved that she had done that. Her mother was quite stressed lately, even without this, and she needed the rest. She had lost so much so recently, it must have been unimaginable to lose something as a mother now, not as a wife.
         Suddenly feeling cold, Tanya shivered and pulled the shawl closer around herself. Her shoes lay forgotten next to her bare feet, as she sat upon the cushioned windowsill and waited for her brother. The dress she wore was fit around a young woman’s body, but the lamplight from outside pushed through the window, and accented the lines on her face, aging her in the dark.
         The room behind her remained unlit, the light peeking in from the street the only source of illumination. Tanya Cayle sat at the window side, and peered out in the night, waiting for her brother to return. The rain pattered against the glass, echoing in hollow notes throughout the room, notes in an empty orchestra.
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