It was cold. Darkness surrounded him on all sides.
Left. Right. Right... The maze was never ending, a concrete jungle as he groped down a black road. Suddenly, a streetlight above him flared. In front of him stood two men, both in grey suits. One was in his late fifties, a beard of grey matching his salt-and-pepper hair. Next to him stood a man with a peculiar scar on his forehead..
Cold water doused his face, bringing Smith from his unconscious dream. His eyes refused to open due to the powerful light blaring directly in his face. Slowly, he came to and creaked open, glancing around at his blurred surroundings. Although he was thoroughly numb, the American was aware of strong ropes binding him to a chair. In front of him, was a looming figure, face half hidden in the shadows. The other half revealed piercing, blue eyes starring down at him.
"Welcome back Captain." the man spoke, again with his many accents.
Smith struggled past an unresponsive jaw, "Whurr 'm I!" he muttered, trying very hard to speak clearly.
The man raised an eyebrow in humor, a smirk flickering over his face. "Cat got your tongue?" he asked smartly, unfolding his arms to reveal a thin stick of wood in between his fingers. "Rennervate" he said, pointing the stick at the Captain.
Smith's body suddenly regained full action, his stuck jaw opening with ease.
"Where am I?" he asked, being clearer this time. He began glancing around behind him, however his mind was still a bit hazy.
"Where are you?" the man repeated, the smile still plastered on his face. "It is of no true concern. But, if you must know, you are merely in the basement of Dr. Roselburg's home." he answered. The man seem perfectly content to let Smith know whatever he wanted.
"Why did you kill him?" Smith said, returning his attention to the front.
The man laughed at this, his high pitched, cold peal of laughter echoing off the walls again. The notes sent chills down Smith's spine.
"He knew to much, probed to far and quite frankly became very annoying... so we killed him." the man said. "We all wish he would have resembled his father more, but I suppose our hopes were too high... Ahh, but we." he added, anticipating Smith's next question. "have many names, however I believe our American one is "The Society".. quite charming in my opinion."
"Your assassins." Smith stated, more a question however than a comment.
The many smiled, his blue eye's glittering. "As well as alot of other things, but yes, assassin's if you wish to define us for lack of better terms." he said.
"He knows to much..." a man behind Smith suddenly spoke, his face hidden in the dark.
The man glanced up at his partner, his smile disappearing and his eyes fixing into a cold stare. "I'm not certain I asked you anything, Habar. I'm perfectly within my means of toying with our guinea pig, especially considering were going to kill him here soon." he said, his last handful of words slicing a bit of fear into Smith's heart.
"Why are you going to kill me?" Smith asked, masking the fear that was beginning to creep into his system.
The man looked back down at him, "Well isn't that obvious?" he commented instantly, "You know to much of us." With emphasis on his last word, he began twirling the small stick between his fingers, a crude smile playing back onto his face.
"Us?" Smith asked, trying to buy a bit of time. Meanwhile, he began to slide his feet casually apart, planting them in two ideal positions.
"Yes us." he answered, paying no attention to Smith's fidgeting. "Wizards, magicians, elder folk, illusionists, healers, warlocks, mages, freaks, outcasts and magic users." he said, rattling off a plethora of synonyms. With each word a different color spark shot from his finger tips.
"Magic?" Smith said, actually intrigued at this point but still attempting to make means of escape.
"Indee- OY!"
Smith planted both feet apart and launched backwards, flipping his whole frame completely backwards. Before his chair could make a full three-hundred sixty arc, the back legs struck something soft with a resounding crack. Smith's hands became suddenly free as a handful of red lights bounced across the basement.
The soldier reached down and was surprised to find his sidearm still strapped to his left thigh. With a snick, he pulled it out and fired once at the teetering light that barely illuminated the basement. The bulb shattered instantly and the concrete room plunged into darkness, filled with aggravated yells and shouts of his enemies. A few more bolts of light shot off, before a familiar voice yelled out, "NOT ME!"
Smith smirked and spotted a crack of light to his upper left, obviously the door out of the cellar. Smith began to slip towards the door, keeping his gun pointed directly in front of him for a purpose. This precaution helped as he suddenly bumped into something, his gun tip prodding a set of rib's.
"Wh-!" they began, but were quickly silenced with a loud bang. Smith felt the body drop to the floor.
"Lumos!" three voices suddenly shouted. The basement behind the American illuminated with blue light, but all the enemy saw a fleeting glimpse of Smith's tan boots as he barreled back into the house's ground floor.
The Captain rolled into the kitchen directly across from the basement door, sliding up next to the bar and placing his pistol over it, aiming directly at the exit from below. Two figures rushed out in a frantic, but only met the ground as their chest and heads exploded with a spurt of blood and bullets.
Magic my ass.. Smith thought as he knelt there, ready to defend the stainless steel fortress from the would be adversaries. His valiant defense was cut short as the walls that separated the stairs from the ground floor suddenly shattered with a volley of blue bolts, dust and brick obscuring Smith's vision.
The Captain coughed and backed up, holding his firearm loftily with one hand. A shadow loomed in the kitchen door, an arm raised with a weapon at Smith. The Captain took did not hesitate and fired instantly, three shots finding their target. The figure dropped to the ground, one suddenly flitting into the doorway to answer the fallen one.
Smith pulled the trigger but it only let off a dreadful click. The American yelled and tossed the solid thirty-three ounces of metal at the shadow, striking it in the shoulder. Smith launched his whole body at the man, knocking him to the ground. With a twist, the soldier mounted the man and began to rain elbows and fists down upon his face. Blood spurted where the Captain struck, and he only stopped with the body stopped twitching.
With a heaving sigh, Smith stood up, believing he had claimed victory.
"Crucio!"
Smith suddenly fell to his knees as blinding agony gripped him. White hot knives stabbed at his body from every angle, his nerves alight with pain like he had never felt. Paralyzed with fear and choking pain, Smith fell to the floor, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. But as soon as it began, it was over.
He lay there on the carpet, panting loudly as a film of hot sweat coated his skin. A few drops rolled down his nose and onto the floor below him. The American glanced up to find the same smirk from before looking down upon him. "Thought you had won, didn't you?" he asked.
Gone was the playful tone and instead resided a cold, calculating voice that embodied the death Smith had just been promised. He couldn't escape it... inches from his face was a thin stick of wood..
"Your promising, I'll give you that... shame your not one of us." the man murmured, stepping towards Smith.
A surge of courage suddenly sparked inside the nearly dead Captain and he grabbed the small piece of wood.
"STUPEFY!" he roared.
A red jet of light suddenly shot from the end of his wand, shooting straight for the man. His eyes widened but he deflected it with a burst of white light. "Imperiui!" he shouted.
Smith suddenly found his limbs unresponsive but his mind fully awake. He stood up straight, the thin piece of wood in his hand clattering to the floor. The man reached forward and grabbed his arm. With his other hand he pointed his baton down at their interlocked forearms. From the tip suddenly came a red hot chain of fire.. then another.. and a third. They snaked together, forming an unbreakable lock between the two. Smith found his eyes widening with fear.
The man looked up at him with icy eyes, releasing the grip. Smith stumbled backwards, his arm suddenly searing with pain. He glanced down at it to find a black skull and serpent burned into his skin.
"Your one of us now."
His fate was sealed.
