Hello everyone, and welcome to my very first story published here on fanfiction, a little twist on the game of My Killer Romance. I got hooked on the game soon after I started playing it (but mostly for the mystery and the action, not a lot of the other stuff they included. Those of you who blush during that, you can stop now :)
After a while of playing through the stories, I took note of a key phrase Xavier said (its also included in the story description). Ideas began forming in my head about where I could take it, and how far, which is how this story came to be. Being that Leeander is only king of the Death Realm, what were to happen if the Collectors met the king of Death himself?
We all know him by a variety of names, the most popular one being Hades as invented by the Greeks. I'll end up calling him something different in my story, but I'm setting up the principle that the King of Death might be the stereotypical emo self-absorbed Mick-Jagger character from the Percy Jackson film. Okay, now I'm totally kidding, because even I found that character a bit dull.
But the idea of one of my characters being the King of Death is true; I'll introduce him when the time comes. However, first, the Collectors need to run into a special someone, figure out how the team and said person will cooperate, all the while facing the oncoming set of a war and the quarrels of love.
Hopefully this prologue will set up a good premise for you all. As the story goes on, I hope that you'll leave me good reviews (or critical, I appreciate constructive criticism), and that you all enjoy the story.
Disclaimer: I do not own the game My Killer Romance; all rights for the game go to Voltage Romance Games.
Prologue
It was one of those peaceful nights one didn't often come across in the city of San Francisco. The streets appeared abandoned, every car neatly parked along the curb, each owner tucked away in his or her apartment to sleep. A calm breeze blew along the ground, kicking up a few piles of dust and leaves that littered the concrete. Many skyscrapers had their windows still lit, showing that despite the calm evening, many citizens were still heavily absorbed in their work. The streets were brightly illuminated by the street lamps, the whole city appearing as a large group of fireflies to any freeway patron across the bay. The night sky stretched above the city like a comforting blanket, the stars speckled across it like millions of tiny winter snowflakes.
Yes, it was one of those rare, peaceful nights, not common in San Francisco. Of course, it seemed like that for everyone else, save for an unfortunate citizen running down the streets. The lights shone enough that one could tell the fleeing pedestrian was a young man, in the age range of early to mid thirties. He had gotten off of work hours earlier, but had gone out with his friends at a local bar for a few drinks. He needed it to burn off stress of work, as well as to get rid of the uneasy feeling that had been plaguing him since his lunch break earlier in the day.
Derek checked his watch again; he had done so three times in the past same amount of minutes. His friend was late; they had promised to enjoy lunch together, figuring it would be good to hang out. They hadn't had much time to do so lately, since the busy contracts had been flung on them by their bosses. They had hardly any time for anything after that, but for once, luck struck like the hands of fate.
And yet, Mark was late, as usual. Derek once again checked his wrist watch, a pristine Tiffany Atlas Chronograph, stainless steel rims around the edges. The time read right at the start of his lunch break: 12:30 on the dot. Derek looked up, expecting to see Mark come racing around the corner, glasses falling slightly down the bridge of his nose from running to meet Derek on time. And yet, after another three minutes, he saw no one, not even the people that regularly came down to the cafe for the lunch hour.
Derek let out a heavy sigh, placing his hands on his hips. He shook his head, using his right index finger to nudge his glasses higher up on the bridge of his nose, giving it a light pinch of frustration. The longer he waited, the less time he would have for lunch today. And he was actually quite looking forward to it for a change. Finally, after another minute of waiting, Derek turned to walk down to the cafe, deciding to just bring something to Mark later.
However, as he was turning around, the office worker ended up running smack into someone. Glasses falling from the impact, Derek leaned over to pick them up, preparing to chew out the person who had been in his way. Using the corner of his untucked shirt to wipe away a smudge on the lenses, he gently placed them back on his face, then looked for who he had run into.
Imagine his surprise when he didn't see anyone there, at first anyways. Throughout the hour long-lunch break, Derek couldn't shake the feeling that something - someone - was watching him. He thought at one point he could tell who it was, but the person had gotten up and walked off, showing no sign of continuing to stalk Derek. So the worker had given up for a while, deciding to just enjoy his food.
Near the end of his break, Derek gathered up some food for Mark and walked back to his - Mark's - desk to drop off the meal. Having done that, the office worker then returned to his own station, gathering up some papers he would need to finish the task his boss had assigned him.
Right as he was about to continue work, one of the office assistants tapped his shoulder, "Mr. Jacoby, this came for you a short while ago. Urgent express mailing." The woman handed the envelope to Derek, receiving a thank-you in response from the young man. She nodded her head and walked off, leaving Derek to his own business.
Derek put the envelope aside for a moment to grab something from his briefcase, and though he tried to remain focused on his work, his curiosity was getting the better of him. Finally, the worker gripped the envelope, setting aside the rest of his work. He reached for a letter opener, tearing open the fold of the envelope, and reached inside to grip the letter.
The letter was a simple piece of office paper, not really appearing as important as Derek had been lead to believe by the office assistant. However, a bit bored with his work and not really having a whole lot else to do, he unfolded the letter, his eyes immediately training themselves on the only four words of the sheet, centered perfectly in the middle.
'Damned… watch your back…'
Looking back on that memory, Derek wished he hadn't refused a ride home from Walter. At least then, he would be safe, and on his way home, not running from whatever was currently chasing him. The office worker pulled up the folds of his business jacket, trying to prevent the cold from brushing against his already clammy skin. Not like it would do much, but it had become a habit of his since he often walked to work, and the brusque San Francisco evenings were quite chilly.
Derek came to a street corner, briefly glancing up at the signs. He could tell what one of them said… 'Market Street…' he thought to himself. It was nowhere near the apartment building he resided in, which caused the man to curse. He was so worried about fleeing from his pursuer that he had failed to make his turn that would lead him home.
At first, Derek thought about doubling back, but a chill ran down his spine when an ear-splitting screech rang through the night sky. He looked up, expecting to see what had cried out, and he wasn't disappointed. Though the features were not discernible at this time, he could tell that the bird was either a falcon or a hawk, but would guess the former, since not a lot of hawks took up residency near the coast. Then again, neither did falcons, but he really didn't care. The same bird that was now flying above him had been following him since he had left the office building after work that day.
So, whatever presence was hunting him now, was using the bird as a guide, knowing that where it was, Derek was likely to be. The office worker swore under his breath before taking off again in a flat out sprint, trying to figure out a way he could ditch both the bird and the other presence chasing him. Derek did find something peculiar though; it almost seemed to be as if his pursuer was toying with him. Since he had first glimpsed it a few blocks from his office, he had simply run off, and though he had not gotten a good look, he knew the look of whatever was chasing him. So why hadn't he seen it in a while? He figured that he would have at least glimpsed it following him when he started running on one of the straight streets that made up the city blocks.
After running for a good distance, Derek let out a heavy breath, 'All right, I'm sick of this…' Looking up, he could still see the bird was following him, but upon looking ahead, saw the perfect chance to ditch the creature. He rounded the corner at breakneck speed, then ducked into the alleyway that lay right behind the small shop he had passed. Derek dare not move any limb into the exposure of the street lamps, so instead he settled for glancing out into the sky, watching as the bird flew right past him, continuing on its path down the city street toward the wharf.
Derek placed a hand over his rapidly beating heart, sucking in a few deep breaths to calm down. He had never run like that in his life before; he was sure glad as hell that it was over now.
"Oh, trust me, its never over…" Derek froze. That voice… he had heard the voice before. The same voice of the person that had begun chasing him through the city after he left work. He hadn't heard what it said, but he had heard the voice. And that alone was enough to give Derek a chill.
The man looked around for his pursuer, his eyes wide and frantic. He stumbled further into the alleyway, his brown eyes locked on the entrance to see if the person would round the corner as he had, then step into the light of the street lamp to identify his or herself. Unfortunately, that was not the case.
Since he was not looking where he was going, Derek tripped over a box that was lying on the floor of the alleyway, the man falling down onto the unforgiving ground. He gave his sore backside a rub as the voice spoke out again.
"You got the note… I warned you… and yet you still tried to run…"
Derek was instantly back on his feet, a chill running down his spine. The shadows seemed to surround him, almost as if they were alive, a deadly black blanket that signaled the oncoming of death. The man began to have a panic attack, fanning his face with his free hand, the other clutching the edges of his business jacket over his chest.
"Oh, spare me the dramatics… besides… a traitor as yourself… does not deserve a light sentence… the torment of the shadows… seems fitting for your soul…"
Derek was confused; now this person just sounded insane. He was about to speak out and confront said person when that familiar screech sounded out, and Derek looked up. The bird that had been following him landed on the railing of the fire escape attached to the building whose' wall made up the other half of the alleyway, its beady black eyes locked on Derek's shaking form. It tilted its head, at first in confusion, but Derek could almost see the bloodlust in the creature's eyes.
It was almost as if… this creature… was expecting him to die… wanted him to die… But that was crazy; birds couldn't think like that.
"Well, mine is quite capable of thinking such thoughts. He serves me, and he knows that you are a damned soul." Derek looked around, now wanting to know more than ever who was speaking to him in such a rude manner. Before he could say anything though, a hand shot out from the shadows, gripping Derek around his throat, lifting him up with relative ease and pinning him against the brick wall.
Derek let out a series of coughs as breathing became more difficult for him, the icy hand tightening its grip around his neck. He looked down briefly, his worried brown eyes locked on the person who was now in control of his very life. Said person was still cloaked by the shadows of the alleyway, but Derek could tell a few things.
One, that the person had pale skin, since the hand that was currently around his throat was pale, and that the person had blue eyes. Derek lifted his hands, trying to pry open the one that was locked around his throat, but his captor's grip was like iron, refusing to budge despite the effort the office worker was giving to extend his air supply.
The masked person chuckled, the sound dark and evil, "Suffocation would be a light sentence for you… you still don't believe it yourself… the damage you have done…"
Derek was confused; what was this person talking about? He was just a mild-mannered office worker; he hadn't done anything wrong. The person's hand seemed to grow even colder as he or she spoke again, this time, their voice dripping with the venom of a black widow.
"Don't play koi Jacoby; you know full well what you did. Maybe a little flashback will help you? The insurance policy… the hefty bank fees… the fact that the company would take a spill, leaving you to clean up the mess…"
Suddenly, Derek managed to piece the puzzle together. A while back, a man had approached him with an offer of sorts. He hadn't explain the full details, just said that if Derek went through with his instructions, he would be given a nice little tip-off to keep quiet afterwards.
Let's just say that the situation didn't go as planned. Derek still remembered reading the coroner's report that day… how the victim's death had been determined… suffocation, via poison and a substance the victim had been allergic to. The office worker's eyes widened; so this is why this person was after him. Keeping one hand on his captor's, Derek held out the other, waving it in an innocent manner.
"No, please… I didn't know that that's what Kensington meant! I had no clue about the plan! He wouldn't tell me everything! I didn't know it would end up killing Richardson!"
The person scoffed, "Spare me your lies Jacoby. I can see it in your heart… you are a selfish, arrogant person… you do what others tell you, as long as it promises you a reward in return. I see your memory… you had no qualms about going through with this deal. You knew that you would get a hefty pay from Kensington, as well as the life insurance policy on Richardson's head. You killed him in cold blood, all for a little money you could use to buy most of the company stocks and make yourself rich."
Derek was quaking in fear by now, "Please… I'll give the money back… I'll do anything… just please let me go…"
The owner of the voice seemed to growl, "The shadows have no mercy… for a damned soul…"
Hearing this, the shadows literally seemed to rise around Derek, pooling toward him like an angry swarm of bees. The icy hand released its grip, and Derek fell to the ground, quickly scrambling to his feet in an attempt to escape.
"Ah ah ah." The owner of the other voice snapped his or her fingers, and another wave of shadows blocked the exit to the alleyway that Derek was headed for. The office worker stopped and spun around, his eyes full of fear and comprehension with what was about to happen.
As the shadows closed in, the man just continued to scream, "Please, no… no… no… no! N-"
The night was silent once more. The mysterious voice walked toward the exit of the alleyway Derek had originally come, glancing up at the bird that was still perched on the fire escape.
"How many more are due tonight?" The bird tilted its head in thought before letting out a much softer screech, and the owner of the voice nodded, though that action was masked by the shadows.
"Very well, then let us move on to our next victim." Briefly glancing back in Derek's direction, the owner of the voice waved a hand, and the shadows dissipated. The darker energy fled to hide under cover of the night, the owner of the voice looking at Derek's now motionless body.
The bird let out a curious caw, and the owner of the voice chuckled, "Viable cause. His family had a history of medical issues; doctors will dismiss it. And if not, its nothing a little tampering won't do. But there will be no reason for a police report; no weapon, no signs of attempted suicide or gang attack," the voice trailed off a moment before letting out a sigh.
"One of the easier cases this time, but they won't always be so lucky." The bird flapped its wings a few times, which the owner of the voice noticed, "His soul got off lightly, compared to the other damned ones I've caught. Hmph, I have a feeling though that I'll probably encounter a more interesting one tonight."
And indeed, that would be the case, for the next victim of this mysterious persona was Kensington, the man that Derek had been in league with when they murdered Richardson. The owner of the voice tucked its hands into its jacket pockets, pulling out two forms of black leather, slipping it onto his or her hands, before tucking said hands back into the pockets of the jacket.
Glancing back up at the bird one more time, the voice spoke, its tone softer, much unlike the one it had used on Derek moments earlier, "Let us be on our way, shall we?" And so the voice and the bird departed, leaving behind almost no sign of the damage they had caused, save for the ice cold body of a man that no one would ever be able to determine the true cause of its death.
For what its worth, let me say this: unless you existed in the world that the owner of the mysterious voice did… then there would have been almost no point to the death that had transpired that night.
So what did you all think? Okay, I don't know what the definition of prologue is for everyone, but I do so hope that this wasn't so long that you began to lose interest. I avoided naming the character or anything for now so that it will remain a bit of a mystery, which of course will be revealed later. And in a complicated world like My Killer Romance, there is plenty of growth and opportunity that I can use and expand off of for this story.
Though I am going to be using most of my own ideas (save for some characters from the game), I may mix in one of the sequels, most likely Raphael's. As I said, there is plenty of growth opportunity to use his, since in the end, the Collectors and the two other Realms are faced with the possibility that there might be a third party involved in the war that had been instigated.
I also asked some of my friends and other people about the names they picked for the avatar in the game, and since I had planned to pair her up with Kieran in this story to leave the other four Collectors available, I decided to go with the name Natalie, since out of all the other ones my friends gave me, it just fit better than the rest. So, in this game, which will be told in third person, Natalie will be the avatar from the iPhone/iPad game, and will be paired with the younger prince.
All other relationships for the Collectors, I will come up with something later if I feel any of them should also have a love interest, like how Blake used to be in love with Stacia in his main story. Most of this story will focus on a bit of mystery and suspense, since the backstory of my own main character can get a bit twisted, kind of like Kieran's family tree (but with totally different twists). But don't worry, for those of you that like adventure and romance, those will be in here as well.
Okay, I'll stop rambling on for now, but I'll leave you with two last things. One, since this is the prologue, a preview of the next chapter won't be included (mostly because I am still writing the plot line for it). But, at the end of the rest of the chapters, a small preview will be included (just some dialogue lines I plan on having, or a small action sentence). Second, at the beginning of each chapter, I'll have a bit of a recap of some details in case something didn't make sense, or just to bring something important back up as it'll most likely have an impact on the story later.
Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed the prologue, and I hope to see you at the next update of my story.