Night had long fallen in the small park in one of the more wealthy areas of Columbus. Sitting on a bench beneath a lamp post was an old man whose long overcoat and scarf made him an unseemly figure, his dark flat cap hiding his calculating, yet youthful eyes. He picks up the leash beside him in his wrinkled hands and stands as a voice buzzes through his earpiece. "The target is headed your way, ETA 10 seconds."
The man standing, looking lost, peering into the darkness back and forth as he crosses to the opposite side of the path. A man in dark blue jogging clothes approaches at a mild pace. "Hello, sir," the old man said as he came closer. "You wouldn't have seen my dog, Darla, on your run, would you? I'm afraid she's-"
"Fuck off, old man." The target answered hatefully, speeding up and blowing past the old man. "Good night to you too, asshole," the old man sighed. "God, I'm gonna hate this. Damn… take two," he whispered. The whole world began to shimmer. The light wavering in the air. As he watched the target returns from the way he came… backwards. His reverse-sprinting slowed back to a jog as he went past the old man and disappeared around the corner. The old man crossed back to the bench, retaking his seat.
Though night had long fallen in the small park located in one of the more wealthy areas of Columbus, sitting on a bench beneath a lamp post was a young boy, about 10 years old. His soft green eyes and shaggy dark blond hair went uncovered, in the slightly chilly night, by the hood of his open jacket which showed a shirt about video games. His tight jeans ended behind the tongue of his black and red skater shoes. He fingers the leash in his hands as a voices buzzes in his ear. "The target is headed your way, ETA 10 seconds."
The boy stands and goes to stand in front of the bushes on the opposite side of the path. Looking anxious as he peers into the darkness of the bushes fruitlessly due distance. Footfalls approach from his right, slowing as they get closer, out of the corner of his eye the boy sees the target getting nearer to him. The man pulls out his earbuds, "Little late to be out here alone innit?"
The boy jumps for effect, dropping the leash. "Oh, you scared me," the boy said, giggling innocently as he bends over to pick up the leather cord, giving the man a brief view of his back-end. When he turned back around the man was leering at him lustily. Inwardly the boy was rolling his eyes. "Sorry," the man said. "Is everything okay?"
"Oh, I was out walking my dog, Darla, but she got off the leash and went into the bushes, I tried to get her, but it's a little scary, would you get her for me?" The man puts his hand on the boys shoulder. "Of course," he says, squeezing lightly.
The boy looked up, piercing green eyes peering through the dark blond bangs, smiling, "Thanks, mister." "Brett," the man said quickly. "I had a dog when I was a kid, and he liked to run away too." The man began telling a tale of how his dog once disappeared for days before turning up again in a neighborhood not far from where Brett the target grew up.
"I would have run away too, if my owner was experimenting on me," the boy muttered under his breath. Brett the target half-turned his head as he moved branches to the side, "Say something?"
The boy nearly smacked himself, "Yeah, um, do you see her?" Brett the target stooped further, then, taking a different approach, crouched down to the ground, while avoiding dirtying his clothing. "Not yet," he answered. The boy silently began moving forward.
As the boy drew closer, he also grew in other ways. Taller, stronger. His hair shortened and spiked, his blue jeans staining to dark black, his open jacket, turning into a black leather. Light from the lamp reflected off of the light metal forearm guards that peeked out at the ends of his sleeves. Brett the target stands, "Sorry, kid." As he moves to turn, his leathered predator kick the back of his knee, dropping him to the ground. "What the fu-", he is cut off as his attacker brings the full force of his arm down on the back of the man's head.
The sound is like a padded baseball bat striking a tree, the man collapses immediately. The attacker sighs, running a hand down his face. "The target is down," he said quietly into the comms. Behind him, in the bushes behind the park bench came a dog, a small husky, her chains tinkling with every step. As she walked across the brick path to the man and unconscious prey, she began walking on two legs, as earrings, bracelets, chains, and leather formed over her frame, while the paws and fur retreated.
A short female figure, with chin-length, dyed black hair and lots of dark make up, kneeled next to the body. "Good work," she said, flipping the man on the ground over. Reaching into the collar of the knocked-out man sweatshirt, pulling out a flash drive attached to a thin black cord hung around the man's neck.
Unhooking the device, she offered it to her partner along with a key. "Here, Theo. I got his car and Darryn's at his house right now. Take my bike, meet up at the place tomorrow morning, keep it safe." Theo nodded pocketing both items. "I mean my bike. ONE scratch, asshole, and I will give you rabies, got it."
Theo nodded again and turned around following the path to the parking lot. As soon as he was out of sight, she returned to the man beneath her. "Not your lucky day," she whispered as she drew a syringe from her purse. Sticking the tip in the man's neck, she pushed down the plunger. His body began to twitch and jerk, becoming more and more violent until every muscle in his body were convulsing, his face turned red and purple as his lips blue.
His eyes shot open, bloodshot, they locked quickly with hers; anger, hatred, and fear very apparent. A dark red foam began to seep from his lips which were open in a silent scream. His body stilled, "Then again, maybe you should have gone into a different line of work." She stood. Beside her a shimmer appeared in the air as an invisible figure became seen. "Darla," he greeted.
"Bag him, and get rid of it. Not even ashes, Darryn. Have it done before tomorrow. After the meeting boss wants Theo gone too. Make sure you're not seen. If he gets away, you'll never catch him." Darryn nodded his head, steely eyes wandering the crime scene looking for any evidence outside of the body. She walked away, down the same path as Theo.
At the parking lot she approached the blacked out Infiniti Coupe, parked on the far side of the lot. The passenger door opened before her and she slipped inside. "Is it done?" a voice asked inside the from beside her. "Yes. It will all be over tomorrow," she answered, before she clutched at her neck, hot fluid slipping between her fingers. Her screams inaudible as she choked to death on her own blood.
(You guys know me… I think… No snazzy line breaks… but I will give secrets… in case you guys didn't know… I DON'T actually own anything Marvel… surprise right?.. I thought so too)
Theo looked pensive. He sat at his breakfast table in the apartment he rented in New Albany. His plate had gone untouched, steaming eggs and crispy bacon, cooling and hardening. All of his attention was on the envelope that rested against his orange juice.
It was dated for today, but had been carried with him for 6 years. It was addressed to a name he had not heard in 3. And his mother's handwriting, a beautiful, artful scrawl. The kind used in documentaries, from old letters and documents.
Theo reached out to touch it, fingertips just brushing the slightly aged, wrinkled envelope. He was hesitant. He wasn't quite sure why, but he knew that cautiousness was necessary. If he opened it, nothing he could do would ever change that. Nothing.
His fingers closed around the corner of the letter, picking it up. Theo walked slowly to his living room, sitting cross-legged on one side of the couch. He pulled the throw blanket over himself, covering his stomach and legs; upper body bare. He flipped the envelope over in his hands, again and again.
Theo rubbed at his eyes and prepared himself for a crap-ton of discomfort. He carefully split open the top fold of the envelope, leaving the flap stuck to the back. As he reached two fingers down to pull the letter from its paper prison, anxiety filled him again. He straightened the tri-fold letter and began to read:
"Theodosius… not the name I gave you, but a name I love just as much. Very clever, and a perfect choice. Let me get started, my star, we don't have a lot of time.
"I was born on the 29th of february, but I have celebrated it on the 28th, three-quarters of my life. The day I turned 16, my powers awoke. In my slumber I dreamed of things far beyond my own reality; the past, the present, the future. But the most important thing I dreamt was you.
"My dream was an instruction. I had you before I turned 20 and you were single-handedly the light of my life. And I love you so much forever and always. On second leap year, my 20th birthday, I had another vision this one showed me more of the past.
"My dream showed me a line of your ancestors. You descend from many highly gifted individual, though none yet had the mutant genes. Spartacus, the Roman Gladiator, is one of your ancestors, and you could publicly claim rights to the Kingdom of the Netherlands.
"You wouldn't have the throne unless… 16 people died, but the the monarch would offer you aide if you ask politely. Your father… is a difficult man… and I am so sorry that you have had to deal with what you have. And, though it was horrible, I'm glad he made you leave. He was poison and it's better for you this way.
"I saw what your childhood would be like before and up to my death when I was 24. The divorce was much harder on you than i thought it was, and I wish I was able to make some plan for your safety, but as I dreamt, it happened. My father died, my sister went to space and didn't come back soon enough.
"Yesterday night, my 28th, I only saw a little bit. Enough that I could give you instructions. It showed me when your powers first activated and you deaged, it showed me when you stopped time to get away from your father, it showed me how you would live after you left… very impressive skills, by the way.
"The last thing it showed me is now. You have 20 minutes to get your life and go. Take the flash drive, your props, and anything else you may need and run. Mrs. Burnett's Scion is parked out back, give her 10K and Darla's keys, she's not going to come pick-up her bike. Darryn is a mutant as well, you won't see him coming, just run and hide, someone I know will contact you soon.
"And, Theo, please, whatever you do, don't leave the flash drive. They used you. That sick son of a bitch that they killed last night deserved what he got, but his research needs to be kept safe. You have to do that.
"15 minutes left, Theo. Good Luck."
(Well ladies and gentlemen… we have chapter 1 of another story.)