Random Writing Challenge 003

Just one quick command, a slight tug from the warm soft hands cradling my grip. The hand is steady, but I can feel their heart beat, ba-bump,pulsing through the cold metal, making my insides quiver. The hand releases me slightly, completely releasing the trigger for a moment before clutching me with twice as much strength. The index finger taps, then pulls away, taps, then pulls away, taps, then pulls away. Squeeze it already, pull the trigger, fire the weapon! But no one hears the cries of a gun, because we don’t enjoy the kill, we don’t feel the passion, the fear, the strength of the wielder.

Small electric currents course from my cold casing through the hand and up the arm. I will not be toyed with. Pull the trigger I try to tell the nerves, the easiest system to travel through. Pull the trigger I whisper to the brain, pull, pull, pull. The arm drops meekly I must be too heavy. This one is losing resolve, they always lose resolve. The interference their silly consciences send to the brain is always stronger than my desire, always louder than my messages.

At least one of my messages must have gotten through, because in one swift motion I am raised, aimed, fired, and dropped. The floor vibrates as the hand drops me. Fool! They will find your finger prints, they will trap me forever in a hot plastic bag, come back! The hand has already left though, so the brain doesn’t hear me. The warm sticky blood of the victim slides all around me seeping into the cracks between my gears, slicking over my cold metal grip and dying it red. The blood mingles with the oil in my gears and the very things I eagerly instill in my victim crawl into me. Cold tingly pulses race through my metals, shaking me like the hand with a faulty resolve. Fear, it feels like being electrocuted, it feels slimy and cold, it feels like the midnight winter breeze. Desperation, it creates a strange pressure within me, crushing me without moving any of my gears. The rest is the cold sticky silence that seeps into me, and threatens to pave the way for rust to creep into me. The silence seeps further and further into me as the wait drags on. Maybe I won’t end up in a hot plastic bag, but if I have no more hosts the wait is just as bad. The weight of the silence is something I have never heard the name of, maybe this is what the conscience tries to stop the brain from feeling. The heavy silence that weighs down on the dead, maybe it follows the host. Death the silence whispers as an ice cold wind drifts through the room, rustling shriveled white lilies in the middle of August in Arizona.

Doc (01)- Chapter 5

[Read Chapter 1 here]

[Read Chapter 2 here]

[Read Chapter 3 here]

[Read Chapter 4 here]

CHAPTER 5

 

I almost felt defeated as I descended the stairs to The Warren. I had ditched Agent Martin a while ago, disappearing like a brief whisper of wind. I kept myself going solely by the will to protect my friends from whatever, whoever was coming. I could not let them down, so when I saw Seth standing at the bar I nearly cried.

He turned to me, as if he had sensed my presence, his eyes widened shamelessly. I met his eyes and felt knots in my stomach, my pace quickened as I walked over to where he was standing.

I leaned nonchalantly against the counter and forced a smile, trying to soften my eyes. He was rocking an empty glass back and forth on his fingertips. I pushed it away from him and waited for him to speak. Unlike Ray he would not wrap his arms around my waist or make any gestures that I would rebuff him for.

“You look beautiful. What’s the occasion?” He smiled, turning the full force of his brown eyes onto me.

I was tempted to tell him I had a date, just to see his reaction. “I had a job.” My throat thickened and I turned to face the crowd of happy people.

“Mikki, what’s wrong?” I felt his hand brush mine uncertainly.

I took a deep breath and turned to face the bar, removing my hand from his grasp. “It’s nothing.” I looked down at the counter, struggling to retain my composure.

“Are you sure?” Seth’s voice, as usual nearly broke me.

I looked him in the eye and rested my hand on his. “I’m fine, just a little tired.” I smiled softly.

He grabbed my arm when I tried to walk away and pulled me back. I sighed whirled back to him. I raised my eyebrows expectantly, but for a long time he did not say anything.

“What’s wrong?” His eyes searched mine.

“Nothing. Can I go now?”

Neither of us believed me, but he would not hold me here forever. He relinquished my arms and I moved away from him.

As I climbed up the stairs and reflected on my life. It was a Friday night and I was at a nightclub, by myself, doing work, while my other friends were out on dates. I suppose this spoke volumes about me but majority of me did not really care. Live a little I remember Ray telling me once. I scoffed; if I lived anymore I would end up dead, or worse. But still the risks I took were all calculated nothing I did was that much of a risk and if it was, it was a necessary one.

La vie disco that is how I used to imagine my life being, nothing but fun and party in between games of death. I clutched the key to the booth tightly in my hand as I gazed out at the crowd.

“La vie disco.” I whispered to myself as my resolve wavered a bit. “Maybe another day.” I sighed and unlocked the door.

It felt empty in here without the constant bicker and banter of all my friends, sometimes all I wanted was peace and quiet but right now was not one of those times. I left the lights off and sat with my back facing the club, normally sitting in such a vulnerable position would send tingles up my spine but I turned the TV onto the security camera feed. The light from the TV eerily illuminated my face and sparse areas of the room.

Taking a deep breath I refocused my thoughts and pulled out the ledger from under the table. I unlocked the crude wooden box and swung the lid open. Most people would have thought this to insufficient security, but one eye scan, voice test, finger scan, two passwords and photo recognition later I had to disagree. The security this box had bordered overkill.

I picked up the ledger from inside its fort and began to flip through it. The ledger itself held nothing but codes and long strings of numbers and symbols, they were impossible to break simply because they had been chosen at complete random. I removed what could possibly be the only tablet in the world that did not receive Wi-Fi, Bluetooth or even radio waves and entered what could also possibly be the longest string of symbols I ever memorized. Next, I opened a unique app that Trick had created himself and entered one of the ledger’s codes.

I stared blankly at the screen and silently cursed Trick. What I was looking for was there, but it was in about four different languages or rather the slang version of those languages and still in code. I had nearly forgotten how tedious the ledgers were and how much work G had put into making them virtually useless to anyone but us. It was almost unlike him.

I felt defeated. I had lost the vigor to do what I came to do, this is why I preferred having Trick with me when I did this or Ray or even Seth. I just hated all this work. I got up left the ledger and the tablet as they were on the table and left the booth. Part of me knew I was not really giving up because otherwise I would have put the ledger and tablet back where they belonged.

Outside the booth the music was still going at full force and I had nearly forgotten about it. There were a lot of people all around; some drunken couples were trying to convince the guards to let them up here. Seth still stood at the bar, but he was soon joined by, and left with a lady. My heart sank a little bit and as much as I did not want to go in there and translate those documents I even less wanted to be around all these happy people.

I went back inside and made some coffee with the electric percolator that sat in the corner. I was not really a coffee drinker but seeing as I detested alcohol even more, I would need it tonight.

I don’t drink coffee or alcohol, it’s Friday night and I have turned down all offers to go anywhere. Something was wrong with me. I just was not going to figure out what that was tonight.

Too many cups of coffee and an untold number of hours later I had before me a list of things that bothered me about this job, besides the fact that it had gone wrong. I yawned for the umpteenth and tried to wipe the sleep from my eyes. I knew what the next logical step was, but I could not remember. The caffeine had begun to work against me and I knew it was no use now.

Without checking the time I pulled out my phone and hit speed dial, as it rang I began packing things up and turning back on the numerous booby traps.

“Hello?” An attractive yet groggy male voice yawned.

“Kay, it is Mikki. I’m not coming to the studio tomorrow.” I locked the booth and began to make my way down the steps. The club was closed and maintenance was cleaning up, I was too tired to properly register any of this.

“Don’t you mean later today?” Kay said still groggy but a little more patient. I could hear the smile in his voice.

“Huh? I know I woke you, but what time is it?”

“Mikki, it is 4:15 in the morning. Of course you woke me up.” In the background I could hear a woman’s voice shouting.  Kay answered with even more patience in his voice “No one babe. I’ll be right there.” My finger nearly hit the wrong button as I disabled my keypad. To me he said “Mikki I have to go see you… well….eventually.”

I had barely hit the end button when I hit the first number on my speed dial. I did not like Kay’s fiancée simply because she did not like me.

“What?” G asked testily

“Did I wake you up too?” I laughed a bit as I envisioned G‘s scowling face, but this too worked against me and I felt sadder than ever.

“Almost. What do you want?”

“Call a meeting tomorrow. It’s important.” I related the night’s events to him and hung up soon after.

Mechanically I kicked off my shoes and stripped out of my dress and stockings. If I took a shower now I would knock out in it so I changed into a large t-shirt and a pair of boxers. I collapsed into my bed exhausted.

 

 

 

It was one o’clock when I woke up or so the clock on my phone claimed I had overslept. Or so the clock claimed. At times like this I like to quote Kurt Vonnegut as he once said in Slaughterhouse-five “There was nothing I could do about it. As an earthling, I had to believe whatever clocks said- and calendars.”  Nevertheless, I needed a clock to believe in seeing as my last one had a bullet hole in it. I rolled off the bed and lay flat on the wood floor for a few minutes before getting up and going about my business.

Fifteen minutes later I was relaxing outstretched on my couch, trying to decide who was most likely to buy me a new clock. Normally I would just ask Lex but she was brining lunch for me today, no need to overburden her. Plus I cringed just thinking at the verbal salvo I would undergo.

Forty minutes later, I placed an assortment of drinks on the coffee table and reclined on my cream sofa. I pondered one whether or not to take out any liquor it depended on how many of them had hangovers. I had no idea where anyone of them went so it was anyone’s game; they all knew where I kept the alcohol that I never drank. I picked up an opaque bottle and swirled its contents around for a moment; if they knew what my hangover cure looked like they would never drink the concoction and then I would be stuck with a bunch of hung over 20 year olds. I sprung up from my seat when someone rapped on the front door. It was probably Trick coming to set up his equipment or maybe it was Lex with my lunch.

I let Trick and Seth in, neither with food, both wearing shades. I slammed the door loudly and laughed mischievously when they cringed. I could tell Trick was glaring at me but I just placed two steel cups in their hands and pointed to the opaque container. I chose not to hear the words that came out of Trick’s mouth after that.

“Anyone else here yet?” He gagged after his first sip.

“Nope.” I threw the remote to Seth and plopped back down on the sofa. Seth sat on the arm chair across from me and flipped through the channels.

When he placed his arm on the back of his chair the collar of his shirt shifted to reveal one end of a dark scar that I knew ran across his entire chest. He was lucky, usually people got off a lot worse.

The huge crowd had risen to its feet as the athletes entered the stadium. We stood in the stands of the Roman amphitheater replica with the hot sun beating down on us with an incomprehensible force. I pulled out a large umbrella because I simply refused to spend the next day tending to my sun burnt skin. I angled the umbrella over G’s head and ignored the protests from other spectators.

I had felt hot, overdressed and sweaty in the ankle length purple tunic, the linen irritated my skin and all the jewelry I wore made too much noise when I moved. I had been firmly convinced that the attendants had gone overboard when I told them to dress me in whatever they liked. There was a Gemini pendant on my tunic, a pair of emerald earrings in my ear, an amethyst amulet around my neck, several bangles and the trinkets from my diadem were constantly knocking at my forehead. I mean really if my enemies could not hear me coming all they would have to do is shine a light in my general direction and I would light up like a god forsaken Christmas tree. G had listened to my rant with his typical patience and waited for me to run out of steam. He could not be any more comfortable in that tunic and heavy toga at least all he wore on was a ring on his finger and a pendant on his tunic.

I exhaled loudly and scrutinized the “athletes” if one could call them that. They were more like pigs being led to the slaughter, even the winner of these fights to the death would die. Most of these fighters were of African descent and seemed to have accepted their fate; they walked with an air of defeat.

I inhaled deeply and gagged. The place had reeked of sweat, decomposition and musk. Heads of the last month’s contestants were still on the long stakes that stood in the middle of the field and despite the cheering of the crows I heard a lion’s roar from under the stands. The winner of the day’s battles would fight the beast and lose.

The traditional seating of an amphitheater had been thrown out the window. The empress sat in a box directly overlooking the battle field. G and I sat in the stands a few rows lower than her box, surrounded by noblemen, dignitaries and their wives.  These barbarians were one of the few people who honestly enjoyed this slaughter fest. They disgusted me with their boisterous cheering as they called for the death of innocent citizens. Bellow them in both seating and rank were those who had fallen short of aristocracy and hoped to be elevated to higher ranks. They acted as patriots by attending every ceremony, every battle they gave the largest contributions to this autocratic state and were hardly ever acknowledged. Lastly, in the lowest and the worst seats were the serfs; those abused by the bourgeoisie of this kingdom or rather queendom; those whose tireless labor kept this country going. They were the blackest of the black in contrast with the Caucasian or olive toned Kalinago aristocrats. They were from where people were wrongly accused to provide fighters for this barbaric practice. They were where all the grieving mothers sat.

I turned my attention to the one athlete who stood out among the rest. Despite the fact that all the athletes were supposedly all “criminals” from the lower class and despite the fact that they all stood in the same tattered pants it was clear he was different. This was not because his well-toned body and striking Carib features screamed aristocracy. It was because his will had clearly not left him and we three knew that he refused to die and unlike the others he would survive.

“Well he certainly is impressive.” I said after he threw his last opponent into the thick poles with enough force to snap it. “Seems to have quite the temper too.”

“What makes you say that?” G grinned.

“Besides him throwing the other fighter into the stand when one of these noblemen insulted his mother?”

“Yep”

“He is obviously of aristocratic descent, there are other tournaments for noblemen who want to prove their strengths and yet here he is fighting with the common folk, for his life. He obviously pissed off someone pretty important and the only person with that influence is our dictator. He is either crazy, had a death wish or became blinded by rage. But why not just put him to death at the very moment, or have him executed? Why turn him into a public spectacle? G what exactly happened?”

G did not answer me, instead he stared straight ahead. I could hear him taunting me in his head I have a secret I just won’t tell you. A gong sounded signaling not only the end of our conversation but the beginning of the final battle for the day. Our Carib friend was about to face the beast, presumably a tiger or maybe a bull.

“O.K. Let’s go get him.” G began to get up but I held his arm

“Let’s see him fight first.”

“And when he dies?” G asked incredulously “You can’t fight a lion unarmed. You expect him to survive that?”

“I can’t fight anything unarmed. You’re not here because you are looking for another me. He doesn’t have to defeat the thing, just last 10 minutes.” G began to protest but I cut him off. “Plus, if you intervene now without a plan the empress will have all of us executed.”

He sat back down and began to think.

The guards raised the gate and the creature that slinked out of the gate was not a lion, its fur was too decorated and not a tiger, it was too big. I could not be sure from the distance but the monster was at least 4ft tall and 10ft long. My eyes widen as I took in the tawny creature with the black tiger stripes but tigers did not get that huge. I was completely awestruck I had heard of but never seen a liger in real life.

“Make that 5 minutes.”

The amphitheater was silent for a moment (clearly this was first) before bursting into an uproarious cheer. The stands shook as the spectators stomped and cheered with increased vigor. The liger began to pace around the battlefield with slow moving confidence. The victor rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet waiting for the huge mammal to make its move. I could practically hear G counting down the time.

Suddenly the beast struck with an unmistakable feline like grace, he moved at the last moment and scarcely avoided being crushed by the 400 pound beast. I was shocked at the speed of such a large animal but then again tigers and lions were not known for their slowness.

The liger was coming around again; the Carib had just enough time to deal a deadly blow into the things neck. The liger limped around a bit but shook off whatever pain had been inflicted. It had just occurred to me how fast this man had to be moving to dodge the strikes of such a powerful creature even by a couple of seconds.

The liger swiped at him with its paw but this time the victor was not quick enough. He jumped back but its sharp claws left a diagonal gash across his abdomen. I could not tell how deep the wound was but the force from the blow knocked him off his feet. And now the victor lay on his back bleeding in the middle of a field with a 10ft long liger ready to finish him off while everyone else cheered.

I did not bother look at G as I made my way down the stands I knew what he would want me to do. I walked all the way down to the last stand where the poor and down trodden gave me a wide berth of space and stared at me, some with anger and hatred. But I did not have time to play humanitarian now.

I watched as he fought desperately with the liger for his life but he was beginning to give up. He could not possibly give up when he had such an easy opening in front of him. I somehow managed to lock eyes with him under that mammoth creature and convey my frustration. I pointed to the stake that he had broken off earlier. It lay near his feet the rotting head had rolled off somewhere. He looked back at me incredulously; looking away from this terrifying beast that was in the process of trying to maul his face was hard enough but grabbing that shaft of wood would leave him defenseless. I glared at him irritably (amazing how he had the time to return the look) and mouthed DO IT OR DIE.

At this point I stopped being interested in whether or not he listened to me or not and made my way back to my seat. I could feel a pair of eyes boring into my soul from the empress’s box but at this point I was not sure if I had one. I did not see if he followed my advice or not all I know he got the liger off him long enough for G to blow a dart into its hide.

The same night I found myself on a speed boat with G, and the victor. So we managed to add a short tempered rebel to our motley crew. I hope G was not planning on doing anymore rescuing from Roman era countries. I missed my Wi-Fi. He and G had cast off the cloaks we used to sneak out of the island but I was so cold I decided to leave mine on. Suddenly, someone pulled the hood off my head and expose my face to the chilling sea breeze. I turned to watch the victor sitting next to me, most of his wounds were dressed and there was gauze wrapped around his torso.

“May I help you?”

“You tried to save my life. Thanks”

“Yes. After I told G to leave you in the ring for 5 minutes.”

“I never got your name.”

“Uh huh.” I picked up manila folder and blacked out the name on top leaving all but four letters. I showed it to him. “Everything that is not in this file or is blacked out is no longer necessary. You need to forget everything else.”

He picked up the file and looked at it “My name?”

I shook my head, got up and walked away. I found myself doing a lot of that later, purely out of embarrassment, but it could not be helped.

Not much had changed between now and then, the gash had healed into a dark scar and much like G, Seth had gotten a tattoo on his torso. Thinking back they had gotten theirs at the same time but Seth’s own had much more design so that it was hard to see the ‘h’ among all the intricate lines.

I blinked myself back into reality and realized with dismay that I had been staring, Seth was staring back at me. I broke away my gaze and turned to watch as Trick finished up with the equipment. I hated when he did that it reminded me of Newton’s 3rd law of motion. For every action there is an equal and opposing reaction, I stared he stared; I said hello he said hello; I did nothing he did nothing which sometimes felt like less than nothing. I closed my eyes again and focused on something else anything else.

Eventually everyone arrived and made themselves comfortable. The empty dark container and several pairs of no-longer-need sunshades attested to the miracles that my private brew worked. From the agitated faces around my living room it was clear that G had filled them all in, it felt unnatural to see so many strained faces we were rarely ever this serious by then again our jobs rarely went south. I got up and walked over to the holographic screen Trick had set up.

“I am going to skip the pleasantries; I hate to beat around the bush. This is what we got.” I opened a slideshow on the 72 inch screen and picked up my tablet and brought up my notes. The first picture was of the itinerary “I have to admit that the prep time spent on this job was minimal it was a last minute gig, close to home, minimum difficulty only designed to cover some incurred expenses.

“But last night I went through it again with the fine tooth comb I should have used the first time and found several discrepancies. First the schedule, it is not unusual to have lunch breaks but to move all your guests to a completely different room and leave all your priceless artefacts unprotected? That is a bit too convenient. Then there is Mr. Adams,” I swiped the holographic screen to big up a picture of a large robust man with round rosy cheeks and bulging arms.

“This man has never bought any art, maybe a few things here and there but the only major art purchases are made by his wife. If anyone was to throw a gala it would be her but all paper work dealt only with Mr. Adams.” I flipped through a couple of photos of the same man at several different functions and parities. I zoomed in on his curly French moustache for a moment before returning to my presentation. “He loves to be the center of attention, he commands it and if a camera is in the vicinity it is dominated by him. So why would Mr. Adams host an art gallery of all things, not include his wife and not even bother to show up?” I paused for a while no one asked any questions or made any comments, stress was high. I brought up the picture of the man we knew as Mr. Brandon. “Let me be frank. This man does not exist. He existed last week when we ran background checks but now nobody knows who he is. He disappeared, gone like a ghost.” I grimaced and put down the tablet. “This is a mess.”

G leaned forward, rested his elbows on his leg and clasped his arms in front of him “Now understand, someone is messing with us again. We don’t know who they are or what they want but they are causing too much trouble for us. Between last night and this afternoon we have lost almost all of our prospective clients and jobs. The ones that are left are not worth it. So fix your face and give me ideas.”

I looked up from the plate of food Lex had brought for him and swallowed a mouthful of spaghetti. “Kill them with fire and chemicals!”

“I like that,” Ray pointed to me “especially the chemicals part.”

“Pour hydrochloric acid on them and blind them with burning magnesium” Lex added deviously.

I drank some punch from wine glass and frowned “I guess we’d have to find them first. G when we find them can I kill them?” I asked innocently

He ignored us all.

“Mikki is right,” Mimi conceded. I beamed with pride but Trick stared at her like she had gone mad. “I mean about the finding them first part. We need to find them and draw them out. If we find them and deal with them immediately it will be like smoking a wasp nest. They’ll just go dormant for a while then the problem will start back. Instead we should draw them out first like roaches with bait. We draw a scout out with the promise of food, they bring back the poison to the nest and everyone dies.”

I deliberated this for a moment. “Let’s push them off a cliff.”

Seth groaned. “How do we find them?”

“Well, they’ve messed with two of our previous jobs,” Lex picked up my juice and took a long sip, ignoring my mute protest. “The last one they orchestrated themselves. None of our real clients want to work with us now so the next plausible job that comes by will be from them.”

“Who is to say they have not planned for this and we lead ourselves into a trap?” Trick asked testily “They’ve been anticipating our movements for a while now. We might just be playing into their hand.”

“Then we play along until we have an idea of what their hand is and once I know what they are planning and their resources. I will crush them. We won’t lose.” I pressed at the crease that had formed between Trick’s eyebrows when he frowned and smiled deviously.

Two Sentence Stories: At the Beach

Footprints in the Sand via http://www.smallwhiteintheforest.blogspot.com

She stared solemnly as the tide washed away the tiny footprints in the sand, reclaiming its territory. She was burdened with the knowledge that, thanks to her, that was not all that it had claimed

Microfiction 005

She learned that time only makes shadows longer, until they are bigger than the person.

Microfiction 002

The salt water crashing through her lungs burns, but she just laughs away her last breath.

Song of the Week

Change is necessary.

La Lune et Moi

La Lune et Moi

The moon and I stayed up together
Keeping each other company
We immersed ourselves in darkness together
Shining our few beams of light

The moon and I read together
Although I opted for a book
The moon read humanity
And so we were lost in our worlds together

But, without me the moon read humanity
One part of the globe at a time
Without me it witnessed the evils of darkness
From its perch so high

Because all the scum and the worst come out in the dark
They wreak havoc and leave discord in their wake
And the moon watches, sometimes hiding itself in the darkness
Still watching

And I am left with nothing but their aftermath
As the sun burns away all the culprits
I wait for the darkness, for the moon. I too have become a creature of it
Perhaps this time with a better book

Infinite Wars: Chapter 2

[Prologue here]

[Chapter 1 here]

Chapter 2

 

In front of them the school building was swarmed with .F.B.I., and local swat team and cops. Medical examiners carried bloodied bodies on stretchers. Even from the distance Alexander was sure Daniele could identify each of the bodies.

She almost screamed, when they saw their Professor and Head Masters body being carried away. The only thing that kept her in place was his hand that had grabbed hers.

We have to find out what happened. Alexander thought

Without a word Alexander pulled her towards the emergency entrance. Quietly they scaled down the ladder and into the back entrance.

 

Turning to Daniele with calm eyes he whispered “We have to find out what happened. I do know this will be hard for you, but don’t shoot anyone, nor are you allowed to taser anyone.” she nodded “First we check the cameras. Then we erase the footage, then we hack the into the cops main frame something this big will be emailed to Washington, and we erase any unwanted data. While I hack those emails you pack. You will pack anything and everything including fire arms. Nothing traceable though. I will also leave you to delete our client list and email them that we have protected their names.”

 

“Yes, Alexander.” She answered relatively calm.

 

Alexander wondered what had happened as they passed through the hidden catacombs to the surveillance room. What could have cause the bloody massacre of 500 students from the ages of 10 to 19 and 100 teachers including 30 nurses? He didn’t know. But he could only think of a few people who would want to take them out especially since the new graduates would be some very high competition.

 

Indistinctly, they moved towards the still untouched surveillance room. Alexander made a hand gesture, signaling for her to go first. Danielle rolled her eyes, always the gentleman.

 

Hum of the computes —–>sound from cameras ——> silence.

Danielle rewound the cameras to before the massacre.

The screen showed 800 plus men marching through the halls. The front line sets of grenades. Fighting begins. The men over power the students. They are all at least 20 plus with years of experience. Abruptly the video cuts off. A balding man, in his late fifties the Head Master comes online.

 

He began to speak “Alexander, Danielle it is extremely important that you get this video. Somehow today we were infiltrated I suspect by the use of some mystical war artifact. If you get this message we’ve lost the battle. But to tell the truth we never stood a chance. If you get this message then you are due for an early graduation. But I beg of you to still take the text books, all of your belongings, and some weaponry.

“The only reason I will tell you the following is not because I think you are ready it is because I think you, Alexander can keep Danielle in check. The Mancini mafia family is behind this. You are not ready to take them on! I repeat you must not confront them. I know a place where you can continue your training. But getting there will be a problem. The hows to getting there are kept secret by the Delarosa family. We have a file on them I will leave the rest to you. Of the Gemini project, you are the last do not fail and carry on the name.”

Bullets flying——> all videos cut off.

“We know what we have to do now. I’ll go pack, I’ll meet you outside.” Danielle murmured when the video cut off, her voice was dead. It worried him, but he didn’t push it.

Silently they rose and darted into the hallway. Running quietly they soon entered the main hall. Police swarmed the place. Once again Alexander gave the hand signal; they both disappeared into two separate air ducts.

Lying there in the air ducts Alexander opened up his laptop, and with the silence of a church mouse and skilled practiced hands, Alexander hacked the chief police officer’s laptop. It was simpler than he had expected. The virus scanner the chief used was out dated and a very old model, and the chief always opened up the pop up ads that talked about “you’re a winner.”

Because of his rush to get the information to the F.B.I. and Homeland Security he used his personal laptop. It would have been damn near impossible to hack Washington (from here at least), Alex would have to settle for intercepting the Chief’s email. It seemed everyday at one o’clock pm after his morning patrol the chief checked his email, and if what Alex had heard bout the chief was true he was a man of strict schedules, especially at times of pressure. Unfortunately for the chief, strict schedules meant that he was predictable. For instance now Alex now knows that from 8:10am-12pm chief would be on patrol. From 12:55 to 1pm whoever was arrested in misdemeanor crimes caught by the chief would be brought directly to his office. Which was where both his laptop and work computer were located. To get in was a matter of timing. Hopefully Danielle would bring his bug making kit.

With those bothersome things aside Alex erased their cliental list. It wasn’t worth the risk, letting those names make it into the real world….

Half an hour later, Alexander and Danielle stood in the garage surrounded by suitcases. In the garage waiting for them were one was a Harley-Davidson, BMW bike, a Green Ferrari, a Honda jeep and 3 ATVs.
“What’s with all the bags?” Alexander inquired skeptically.

“Well we have our clothes two suitcases each, bomb kits, bug kit, money, books, fake I.D kit, the works.” Danielle shrugged.

Silently they loaded the heavy luggage into the Ferrari.

“A little conspicuous don’t you think. A couple of kids pull up to a hotel, dressed in ordinary clothes, in a Ferrari paying cash.” she asked suspiciously.

“No not really its summer. Plus I’m going to total the jeep so. No use.” Alexander answered patiently.

“Fine. Do what you want with it, but tomorrow we are out of this town.” Danielle said a bit miffed as she kick started the BMW bike and drove off, scattering dust behind her.

Alexander threw his own bike into the trunk of the car and drove off after her.

 

Suddenly Danielle was wondering the halls of the school. A line of men in green combat suits approached. They all were slightly hunched over their ammunition. The evil smirk on their maniacal faces was sickening as they march forward towards the students. Danielle screamed for them to run, but no one heard her. The men fire their guns, the students begin to run and fight protectively. Danielle runs to her friend shaking her vigorously, but she looks past her completely ignoring her. A bullet flies right through Danielle and pierces her friend who in turn crumbled under her. Danielle screamed again nobody heard. One by one all the students disappeared, leaving only Danielle and the army. By now their impish smirks had broaden into a wide malicious grin. Danielle crumpled to the ground as a flash bang seared through her in agonizing pain.

Suddenly Danielle woke up curled up in a thick sleeping bag leaning against a rock. Alexander who had his back had been facing towards her, twisted to look at her at the sound of her alarming rousing. Suddenly he was by her side wiping away something wet from her face.

“Why are you crying?” He murmured trying to soothe her hysterics.

“I’m fine Alexander,” Danielle whispered pushing him away. “It was just a bad dream.”

Silently Danielle shifted away from Alexander’s embrace and stood up “I will take watch, you go ahead and get some sleep.” Her voice was dead, just like when they were in the air vents.

Just like in the air vents Alexander decided to leave well enough alone.

Song of The Week

I think this song is really powerful and really fitting at a time when my peers and I are going off to college. For some the change is much more drastic than others, but this song acts as a reminder that in the end it’ll be okay, in the end it is best to let the mistakes pass on, and in the end the pieces will fit together in a masterpiece that only you can create.

Song of the Week

My favourite part of this band is the subtlety with which they weave God into their songs and make relatable music, focusing on the deep dark feelings that drive many from faith. I look up to them as an aspiring Christian artist and love their music for the down dark nonsensical bouts of life we all go through.

P.S. They sound even better in concert! 🙂