A/N: Okay, here's another story. I sat down to write another chapter of my other story, Shield and Sword, but this is what came out. I know well my muse well enough to realize i have to at leastget this up before i can continue to work on the other one (don't worry, i'll still work on that one too!)
So this is a fiction about Kurtis's expedition, beginning with when we first see him at the Cafe Metro. Although, there will be several twists and additions to what was originally in the game. It will probably be shorter, but it will lead to a sequel, which i already have begun to think about!
so please read, enjoy, and review, as always! constructive criticism is always appreciated!
Obscura
Cafe Metro, Paris
He watched the woman walk into the café. To call her attractive would be an understatement. She was, undeniably, gorgeous. Her long brown hair was plaited, and despite her overall tired and unkempt condition, she walked with an air of authority and dignity. He watched her from his newspaper, recognizing her as a woman that, if the circumstances where different; if he'd not just recently learnt of his father's murder, of the cabal's renewed vigor to resurrect the Nephilim race. If he was not the sole survivor of the Lux Veritatis, the only one left to fight against the unknown evils of the world, then indeed he would have had his fun with her. But, with a sigh of acceptance, he returned to his newspaper and waved the woman away when she came to talk with him without the single exchange of a clear word. He knew he would probably forget about her in a few hours, hopefully by then fully absorbed in his vengeance, but for the brief moments that she was in the café, he couldn't stop his mind from wandering over to her conversation with Pierre, the bartender, (he sighed as he realized how grim his situation was that he was, in fact, on a first name basis with the bartender).
Relinquishing the research on the article he was reading, nothing interesting about yet another Monstrum murder, he allowed himself to eavesdrop on the conversation the two were having. He didn't hear much; a few snips of "Bouchard" and "Le Serpent Rouge" caught his attention, but failed to keep it long as his eyes wandered back to the newspaper.
He scanned the article once again, before snapping to attention. Staring back at him was a picture of the woman, taken some years earlier, at some archaeologist function. The picture was clean, and he realized something was remarkably different between the women, but it was undeniably the same person. She has something to do with the Monstrum. She's the best lead I've got. Tipping Pierre generously, he practically ran out of the café, starting his bike and driving swiftly to a vantage point along the Seine he knew well, offering spectacular views of Le Serpent Rouge and the surrounding rue.
---
Where the hell is she? He thought, his eleventh cigarette rapidly burning, simultaneously threatening and taunting him to withdraw the last cigarette in the pack. He reluctantly relinquished only after the cigarette butt slightly singed the tips of his fingers. Throwing the terminated end into the Seine, he withdrew his last cigarette, reaching into his pocket to extract a lighter and proceeded in lighting the tobacco. He succeeded in lighting the cigarette, and took a few deep drags, watching, as he did so, as orange-red flames began to build from inside a sewage pipe beneath the buildings opposite the river. Concealing whatever surprise or awe he may have had, he sat silently as that woman ran from the flames, running just fast enough to succeed in diving from the pipe mere moments before the flames, the effects of the fire leaving her clothes smoking. Content with the spectacle, he flicked his cigarette absent-mindedly into the river; she is definitely involved, somehow. As he began to walk away, he realized he'd just thrown his last cigarette into the River, and no longer had any cigarettes or cash to purchase new ones. Oh well, I should quit anyways. Smoking is bad for your health.
Thanks!
