Chapter 1:
"Sigh,"
That's all is said, as I laid in bed, too sore to fall asleep. That was all I said earlier that day. Funny how just a little expression of emotion could get you into so much trouble.
That afternoon, I had gone through the usual steps of the day. Go to school, do good at it, ride back home via bike. That's where usual decided to take a break. Riding home, I passed by a group of creepy guys in Mohawks and torn shirts. Stereotypical gang. Stereotypical results as well.
I had to stop right next to them because of the stop light, and I got really antsy just sitting there. Of course they had to notice. So they decided to have a little fun with me. But, quite obviously, their "fun", equals my pain. They snatched my bike from under me, and carried me into an alley. They told me, if I was real polite to them, they would let me go without too much trouble. And I sighed.
That did it. They said I wasn't showing enough respect to them. I tried to explain it was a sigh of relief, but they were brutes. They love having an excuse to beat someone into oblivion.
So that, is initially why I have a black eye, bruises in places where no one should ever be bruised, severe pains in my sides, and blistered feet. I had blistered feet from running like there was no tomorrow, which for me would have been likely if I hadn't.
Car lights outside briefly lit up my window. I lived on a fairly busy T-junction, so that wasn't uncommon. But something was nagging me about this light. For some reason… Oh. I knew why. It wasn't just passing bye. It was staying in place. And it was orange.
I stared at the window, my eyes barely passing the edge of the covers.
"What the brick?"
I had taken to using this as my "Dang it" or "Heck". For some reason I am very fond of it, even today.
The orange lights were sweeping the window, back and forth.
'Those are not headlights.' I thought.
And I thought right. Just as I was thinking this, I heard a weird sucking noise, and my window started to open. This got me really freaked out, as the window is only supposed to open from the inside. The blinds started to part, and a hand encased in metal reached through. It was entirely black, and I could tell, it wasn't a human hand under that armor.
The hand slowly raised the blinds, and its pair decided to come through the open window too. The second hand grabbed the ledge of the window, while the first pulled the blinds up all the way. A metal head and shoulders entered the room, and looked directly at me. Its eyes shined a deep, bright orange, no doubt where the lights from earlier had originated.
The turned to look at me, and I could see a very detailed face, or, mask. It had a very smooth look to it, but it had several holes in its cheeks, with grooves set next to them. It had an almost diamond shape, and there was a hole for its mouth.
And then it spoke.
"Sigil, is this the one?"
A small, tinny voice picked up to answer.
"Yes, Polis." It said.
He then spoke to me.
"Is your name Mark Teris?"
I slowly nodded, while making a tiny whine in my throat.
"Alright. This might pinch a bit…"
He grabbed my arm and pulled me up. Then he brought out a cylinder, and attached a needle to it. I tried to call out, but no noise came out. I frantically screamed at the top of my lungs, but still no sound was heard as the needle went into my forearm.
I could hear my heartbeat in my head. I felt cold, really cold. My eyes rolled back into my head, and the muscles all over my body constricted, leaving me stiff as a board, until I finally lost consciousness.
