Ironically, Love
Love's Story
Prologue / Justified
For once in what seemed to be an eternity, Broadway was silent. The intersection, where the great standoff was taken place, was only occupied with two individuals—each with their own significance and goal. This meeting was no ordinary coincidence, however. For it was the doing of fate that stirred the tides of destiny, bringing them one step closer to the ultimate justice they sought.
Love Wilcox was her name. She stood on the western side of the intersection, gazing forward at the tall assassin, Garcian Smith. The fighting was over and business was to be considered. No longer was Love considered Handsome Pink--whose attire was ridiculous with a skimpy skirt and tights. No more games.
The soft breeze that assumed peace between them had caressed Love's face gently, cooling her flushed face that noted unsteadiness. So much was on her mind and yet, she had little time.
Love lifted her head, ridding the shadows that hid her features. Her gleaming blue eyes aligned with Garcian's. She could already read his mind just by studying his face; the man had no intention of fighting her.
"Nice to meet you, Mister Killer Garcian." She spoke with ease. "My name is Love."
The silence was finally broken. A swift breeze shot past between them and made realization to them that time was ticking.
Garcian, in response, arched an eyebrow curiously. "How do you know my name?"
She closed her eyes for a moment then opened them with a determined look upon her cherubic face.
"Because I write the story, mister."
He kept his glance fixed on Love. This girl was interesting, he thought to himself. Indeed she was an avid gamer and it was true that her world of games and reality exist as one. Interesting.
"I don't follow." Garcian simply replied.
Love gave a smile in equal return. "Here's the thing. I work for Electro-Inline Inc." She raised a hand, gesturing a shrug. "You see?"
Garcian raised an eyebrow again with interest. He had noted that Love was a deceiving figure as he began to compute Love's meaning.
"You're saying… that they're all Electro-Inline Inc.'s advertisements."
The blonde nodded and began to walk forward. Her white heels were clicking against the asphalt, making the only sound heard amongst the silence. Love closed her eyes, imaging her goals being fulfilled and acquiescing to what reality may do in return.
"That's why I'm gonna bring 'em down. I'll make 'em pay for Trevor's death." Her voice was strong and frosted with irony as she remembered Trevor Pearlharbor, the egotistical—and currently deceased--comic book artist.
Garcian smirked. "Can you really do it?"
It was indefinite. She asked herself the same question: Could she really "avenge" the man's death? Her mind was hell bent on committing herself to this mission—there was no way she would turn heel now. The answer turned out to be just as gratifying.
"I'll make sure justice is done." Love replied. "But in my book though. You be sure to check it out in next week's issue."
Another breeze came past as Love stopped before Garcian and extended her hand. Garcian glanced down and saw the few beaded and silver bracelets on her wrist along with three dots. It, if Garcian remembered correctly, symbolized power and fire.
His eyes met Love's again. They were gleaming with youth and determination. Surely this is the girl that can do the job.
"I'm really glad we met, Mister Killer Garcian." She added with a small smile.
Garcian was obliged to shake her hand. He took the fair, bracelet clad hand and held it firmly with a returning grin.
"The pleasure's all mine. Love, your passion is inspiring to us all."
Gently, Love pulled her hand away and held both behind her. Her smile remained on her pink glossed lips, proving that Love was all the more pleased with Garcian. It was a smile he'd never forget.
"Thank you." Love nodded and took a clicking step back with one heel. "I'll be watching you, mister."
With yet another breeze and soft flash before Garcian's eyes, Love Wilcox had disappeared without a trace. Leaving nothing behind for him to assure that she was real. Their meeting was surely surreal and one that Garcian's mind couldn't let go.
Garcian glanced up at the sky. It was a cloudy day which hadn't rained. He began to turn the other direction, taking his case in hand. It was best to leave before it started to storm.
"I'll make sure justice is done…
"…Mister Killer Garcian."
