Grey Skies
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Prologue
It was chaos.
Alarms were blaring, their monotone noises calling loud and clear for miles. It was enough to deafen a person if they stood too close to the sirens, the sound unbearable in horrific volumes.
People scattered everywhere, screams were heard, dogs barked loudly and large spotlights scanned the area frantically, the lights shining brightly under the night sky where a crescent moon shone, the stars invisible. Smoke drifted into the air, the black substance like a looming fog as it hung ominously, its presence unwanted yet, to some, appreciated. The sirens continued to sound, alerting many and all, the noise heightening the intensity of the situation at hand as everything was thrown into utter chaos.
Orders were being shouted, screams were being created and snarls were being snapped. The many people, dressed in demeaning orange clothes, ran around the confined area where the walls towered majestically, spikes and barbs placed all over, barracking their escape. People dressed in blue shouted in alarm, fighting to keep the ones dressed in flaring orange at bay.
The smoke continued to rise into the sky. And with it, so did the warm, orange flames as it traveled to consume everything.
One particular individual stood calmly in the shadows of what remained of the destroyed building, the flames making their way around it as the debris lay scattered and broken in unfixable pieces on the rocky ground. His golden eyes watched everything neutrally, the clothing he wore slightly tattered and ruined, spots of black smoke and singed snippets upon it.
He watched through unreadable eyes as all the people scurried about. Watched as the ones in the blue uniform tried to stop the escaping orange figures. He watched as the dogs were unleashed and their sharp, massive jaws dug itself inside many, the screams filling the air as they viciously attacked without mercy. Watched as guns were triggered and knives were introduced into the chaotic fray, the smell of smoke, burning flames and blood filling the air thickly. He watched as many were killed, many were stabbed, many were shot; watched as some of his past mates assaulted a single officer, hitting again, and again, and again, and again. All the while, the young, barely thirty man, screamed bloody murder, struggling relentlessly as he was assaulted again, and again, and again.
Without another word, the figure slipped into the shadows once more, disappearing inside a crook where the burning building continued to spread. His feet were graceful, his back straight as he walked forward, sure and confident as his steely eyes flickered, observing everything, taking in everything, knowing everything. And as he walked, taking small, steady steps, the scrapping of metal against metal rang loudly within the confined space. He covered his mouth, a defence against the blackening smoke that threatened to wash into his lungs. As he held up his hands, the clanking of the metal chains sounded as they securely entrapped his wrists.
Finally, he stepped out of the crevice in which he walked through, entering yet another chaotic scenery where more men in orange rebelled and stood up against the uniformed guards. They were completely outnumbered, the sheer ferocity of the men's anger and hatred seeping into every stab, into every punch, into every crack of the limbs.
Like a ghost, as quietly as he could with his metallic bindings, he made his way around the area, going unnoticed. People had better things to do than take on a random stranger, chained and seemingly harmless. They had to get their revenge. They had to try and escape, using this rather unexpected opportunity.
Letting his hand fall, the tall orange person strode away, the sounds of the bloody, merciless screams and torturous, desperate yells fading as he continued to walk calmly away, his eyes never changing, his demeanor never switching. If one looked closely, one would know that he was not effected by the bloodbath, by the heartless murders, by the hectic and confused haze that many have fallen victim over. No. The person who walked so calmly, so confidently away from everything tainted and wrong, did not even feel his heart beat faster.
"Hey, you! Where the hell do you think you're going?"
Cold eyes regarded the uniformed guard calmly, continuing to walk forward without missing a beat.
"Stop!" he demanded, his hands slightly trembling as he held the gun, aiming straight for the silver-haired man. "Step down, prisoner!"
But he merely ignored his words, continuing to advance the messily shaven man, his eyes clear and cold, his entire posture intimidating as he advanced. What a foolish thing to demand. The man who walked so highly would not step down to anyone.
Before he could react, the prisoner was in front of him. With his hands trembling, the older man was about to pull the trigger, the barrel pressed desperately against the prisoner's chest. And yet, he didn't even get a chance to squeeze as the golden eyed predator threw his hands over the guard's head, successfully wrapping the chains that restricted him of free-movement around the blue uniformed man's neck. Dropping the gun instinctively, the guard's hands grasped the rusty chain desperately, his face turning a slight red.
Without so much as flinching, the predator squeezed his wrists together, the metal biting nastily into the other man's neck. Once the body was limp, the once purple face fading into a pale, lifeless colour, he released the guard and continued on his way, not once looking back at the dead body he so heartlessly left behind on the cold, stone floors.
As more screams were heard in the distance and the fire began to blaze even more, he stepped out of the building he was previously walking through and caught sight of the stony, prison walls. With the lighting of the fire and the constant spotlights that scanned through the area, searching for any lone prisoner who were trying to escape, it would be a hard feat to get to that certain wall, seeing as there was a half kilometer distance and he was currently chained.
But he didn't even need to get to that wall to escape this confinement.
Hiding beneath the building to avoid the spotlights, making himself invisible as he hid within the shadows as more people ran passed, both blue and orange, either frantically trying to get everything back in order or trying to escape, only to be caught and beaten. Slowly, carefully, he made his way towards a door at the back of the building, one that was not used often. He opened it, only to reveal a bare body, stripped from everything but his undergarments, lying dead on the ground as the smell of decaying flesh assaulted his nose. He crouched down and snatched the keys on the floor beside the carcass, along with the blue clothing. Without further hesitation, he freed himself from his restraints and discarded the gaudy orange clothing in favour of the blue uniform.
He closed the door once he was finished, leaving his previous belongings inside the small storage room that held the murdered man, and calmly walked in the open. No one suspected him, the clothing of blue immediately registering to the other guards' minds that he was on their side. They didn't take notice of the silver hair or the golden eyes. After all, one can notice only a few things when their very lives were on the line, trying not to get killed or getting burned alive by the quickly spreading fire. Even the dogs were too occupied, tearing at the orange material like starving puppies.
The next second, he was running, not hesitating when someone tried to harm him and immediately maiming the threat by any way he seemed necessary for the current situation.
Reaching the main gates, he slowed down and again made himself invisible as more guards marched in, people on the lookouts shouting orders and yelling commands. More officers in blue, and some in red, ran inside, intending to stop the revoking prisoners and trying to calm the raging fire that threatened to take the entire prison.
No one noticed as the lone figure slipped outside the widely open gates to allow the many people in. No one noticed as the lone figure calmly walked away from the commotion as the rest were too preoccupied to take notice. Too hectic in ceasing this chaos than to pay attention to one individual in a blue uniform who was slowly walking away from their duty. No one noticed as the lone figure moved like wind, his steps light and soundless, his breaths calm and his golden eyes never faltering.
And as he walked within the crowd of people trying to get inside the chaotic area, he saw police cars zooming passed him, along with the fire trucks as their sirens sounded loudly, the red and yellow light flashing wildly. He walked against the crowd of black, some people noticing and giving him a questioning expression. Their uniforms were black, at their hips, weapons, and they wore headgear to protect themselves from both the fire and possible objects that might be thrown towards their face. The one who was fighting against the current was wearing a blue uniform. He wasn't supposed to be here, trying to escape.
"You there, state your reasons for leaving when your comrades need help," one demanded, one that was not of the crowd. The voice he used and the clothes he wore suggested that he was one of the leaders of this march.
The figure, though, ignored him. He continued walking away, as if no one had spoken to him.
The leading officer then grabbed him by the shoulders. "You're coming with me, son," he said with a voice that offered no room for argument. And, oddly enough, the silver-haired man only glanced at him before complying to his wishes. The two of them entered a black vehicle while others continued their way to the ruined prison, knowing that their superior would handle the suspicious guard.
When they were inside the car, the black-tinted windows rolled up so no one could see inside, the superior officer signaled for the driver to move as he sat down on the comfortable seats, next to the golden eyed prisoner. Knowing the signal, the driver of the impressive car drove on, away from the large crowd of armed troops.
A moment passed before the superior officer gave a slick grin. "It worked better than planned, didn't it?" he asked smoothly, dropping his perfect act.
His companion merely stared at him coldly. "Of course," he spoke, his voice deep and calm. One could become entranced by the mere sound of his angelic voice. "The explosion was a rather nice touch." His eyes then narrowed seriously, his figure suddenly stiff as the danger in his voice broke through, destroying the angelic tone it used to hold. "What of my company?" he asked, his eyes darkened and venom dripping. "I trust that it's still the top, most powerful organization?"
"Not sure about it being the top," the other mused, his eyes sparkling with dark intent. "But it's in the same position it was when you… left." A smirk appeared upon his lips. Golden eyes narrowed further. Even an utter stranger would now that when this man held that look, he was up to no good.
"Then it's secure and ready for my return?" He had to phase it as a question. The sly look in his accomplice's dark eyes was one to be wary of.
The other man chuckled then, his shoulders slightly moving because of the act. The chuckle, so deep and menacing, echoed through the confines of the slowly distancing car. "Not quite, son," he chuckled. "There was an… overlooked factor in your future plans, dear friend."
"What factor?" the golden eyed predator almost growled.
Casting him a slick look, the smirking man answered calmly. "You did not consider the fact that one may try to claim your property while you were… gone…" he started slowly, his smirk widening with every second that passed as he watched how tense his companion was. "… and while they're trying to steal away your position, they might have actually succeeded. Have you ever thought of them, hmm?"
Realization flashed into his golden eyes, followed by an extreme anger. His eyes narrowed dangerously as his teeth clenched together tightly, his hands fisted in a harmful manner. No one owned what was his alone. No one may challenge to take his territory. No one shall stand between him and his goal in power and authority, in complete dominance and worship. No one. Whoever now holds the key to his company will die. Whoever's sitting upon his desk, doing his tasks and claiming his victories will regret the very moment he stole what belonged to him. Whoever now believed that he owned what was his would be severely punished by his hands. They will die for even attempting to claim what belonged to him alone.
"Who?" he asked darkly, his voice as neutral as what he portrayed on his face. But many would see the danger in his eyes, the promise of pain and torture swimming beneath those merciless depths. Those golden eyes were narrowed into almost cat-like slits, angry, vengeful. Murderous.
Grinning like the world would explode under his command, the other figure took a slip of paper from his pocket and calmly handed it to him.
And he accepted it smoothly. Whoever's name was written on this seemingly harmless piece of paper would have their life destroyed by his very hands.
He opened the folded paper and quickly read the name, registering it permanently into his mind as he withdrew within himself, his dark mind already plotting.
Kagome Higurashi
End of Prologue
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