Prologue

"The ultimate test of man's conscience may be his willingness to sacrifice something today for future generations whose words of thanks will not be heard." -Gaylord Nelson

This is it.

I'm really going to do this…

It's what's best for me- no. what's best for everyone. Right?

What was clearly a bedroom was dimly lit with the early rays of light from the rising sun piercing through nearly translucent curtains.

I shouldn't be scared.

A lone chair sat deskbound to the center of the room as a young woman stepped up onto the seat, one clammy hand gripping the manchette for support, the other clasped onto the top rail as she pulled herself to a steady bearing atop the cathedra-like decor.

It's all part of the plan… his plan.

Her shadow cast onto the wall before her, a sinister swinging snare sagging just above her blackened reflection.

It should be simple. Really, all I've got to do is-

"Such an ironically menacing site, isn't it?"

A gasp was quickly tackled by silence as the woman slowly turned her head towards the sudden intrusion, her icy green eyes meeting an emotionless brown gaze.

"Who are- "

"It's pretty obvious who I am. Don't be stupid now." They cut in, tone laced with dreadful boredom and what could almost be mistaken as… frustration? Upon closer inspection the she could see the owner of said voice from a man relaxing near the back of the room. "You know, this really doesn't work out with what I've got planned for your neighborly locksmith. Sort of ruins the mood." One would think this mysterious sir had just had his party ruined by a drunk guest.

She looked to the window and grimaced.

Party ruined indeed.

Clearly this was the devilish spider the locksmith and his doctor had been playing with for so long. The woman cleared her throat as she slipped on her stony necklace. "I'm sorry to ruin your little game. That wasn't my intention. Though I'm sure you know why this has to happen." She looked back to the man, "And I'm sure you know it has nothing to do with you."

His dead, wistfully psychopathic gaze darkened as he watched her fasten her tainted pearls, rising out of the armchair to peak through the curtains with a lazy ring finger. "I suppose not, though I'd rather you didn't soften the punch to the gut I've choreographed for our mutual… acquaintance." He dully muttered, letting the curtain fall back into place and dusting off his suit.

The brunette scoffed. "I don't think either of you really see each other as anything relatively close to acquaintance."

"Yes we do."

"No, you don't."

"Okay you're right we don't."

He turned with a smirk, watching the woman from behind as she stalled her imminent perversity. "But, you have got to admit, I'm not the only one who's enjoying himself."

She stiffened. He wasn't wrong after all. Her investigative colleague seemed to be enjoying the cleverness of this whole ordeal, taking in every possible detail he could as though this whole ordeal were the god particle itself.

The lack of an answer caused the man to snort. "Really, I don't like getting my hands dirty. It's just so boring, really." He drawled on, examining the nails of his fingers as the woman held her hands to the collar of her shirt, caressing her upside-down necktie.

He smiled softly, just before he kicked over her standing thrown, catching it just before it hit the floor and setting it down gently.

"However, I never said anything about my feet."

Hey there, KerOmage here with my first story ever. I know the summary isn't very revealing of what the plot is exactly and the prologue itself is short, but that's the point. I want to leave what the future may hold to the imagination of the reader.

As for first reviews, alongside whatever I may or may not get, I was hoping to get some insight as to the current tone of the first piece of the story, as well as what visuals that you, the readers, may have changed. :) I hope you enjoyed reading!