HOUSE
HOUSE
FLASHBACK:
Eddy laughed. He couldn't help it. The car crash was understandably hilarious; maybe that would teach people that Ed shouldn't be allowed on the road.
At sixteen, not much had changed about Eddy. He was still the shortest guy in the school—only taller by a few inches. The same applied to Ed, who, having outgrown his old, green jacket, now simply wore his red-and-white t-shirt.
Double D, of course, wasn't there. He never was.
"How you feeling, lumpy?" Eddy asked as his friend wobbled out of the scrap that had once been a car. He was, remarkably, unscathed—what else was new?
"Oh… Eddy, I think I lost my jengajam."
Eddy chuckled a little. "That's real great, Ed, but I'm pretty sure you're not going to get your license."
NEW JERSEY:
It was a dark and stormy night.
No, wait; it was just an average night. No storm or special kind of darkness. Of course, considering that it was New Jersey, it might have been better for it to be dark. Nobody wants to look at that.
A skyscraper rose above all of the other buildings in the Jersey town. At twenty stories tall, the building was owned by Magic, Inc. This was advertised in bright, blue neon letters on the front of the building.
This, however, was just the tip of the iceberg.
Several miles below the building was a large, spacious basement. An elevator at the back opened up and out stepped a man in a trench-coat. He had no identifying features except for the coat, hat, and gloves he wore, which hid every inch of his body.
The man reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a watch. Everyone was five minutes late. Why the hell were they late? This was, most-likely, the most-important meeting of the organization yet and these idiots had the guts to show up late?
"I take it everyone's a little hot? Hot date—late."
The man in the coat turned around and found himself face-to-face with the silver-haired Englishman Dante. Dante's typical cheerful smile greeted the man as it always did.
The man sighed. He hated Dante the most out of everyone in the group. The smug grin; the annoying accent; but, most of all, the rhyming slang. Why couldn't he just talk normal?
"I guess we'll have to wait for them, won't we?" Dante walked over to a large conference table in the center of the room and took a seat at the head. "When they do get here, though, they'd better have a good excuse."
MEANWHILE:
It was a dark and stormy night.
No. No, that's wrong again. It was just an average night over the city where Eddward worked. He always worked late—it was in his nature to do his job, clean everything, and leave in as tidy a way as possible.
Therefore, it was unexpected for him to receive a phone call at ten o'clock PM. He was doing something very scientific when the voice said over the PA: "Dr. Hidanstein, you have a call."
Eddward winced at the use of his surname—it wasn't comfortable for him, what with his family history. Alone in the lab, he looked at the phone on the wall. He walked over to it and picked it up. After a few seconds, there was a girl's voice:
"Dad?"
"Yes? What is it? I'm very busy."
"S-Sorry, dad. I was just wondering if you knew where mom was."
The scientist sighed. "No. She's probably away on business. Did she leave a note?"
"No note; not on the fridge or the TV or anything. I even took down some of the older notes. Uh… dad, I've been meaning to ask what mom's job is for—"
"That's not important!" Eddward said hastily. "Um… j-just go to bed. I'll call your mother in the morning."
"Yes, dad… I love you."
Eddward smiled. "You, too… good-night, Johanna."
NEW JERSEY:
It was a dark and stormy—
Dang it! It was neither dark, stormy, nor both. And, after two hours had passed, nobody else had shown up in the underground bunker. Dante twiddled his thumbs anxiously as the boredom suffocated him. The man in the trench-coat leaned against a wall thoughtfully.
Finally, after a few more minutes of waiting, Dante said something. "This is boring, ain't it?" He got up out of his seat. "Maybe nobody's coming; maybe they all got fed-up with how long it's taken so far and they want to try on their own."
The man in the trench-coat sighed. If the lights went out and he could just get a clear shot at the silver-haired bastard…
"They'll get here eventually." The man muttered. "Some of them need to travel a long way, Dante; be a little patient… or else."
Dante merely shrugged at the man's threat. "I'll be as patient as I can with you breathing down my check; check—neck."
The man's own patience finally reached its peak. "Would you cut out the freaking rhyming slang?! Who even uses that anymore?!"
The cheerfulness in Dante's smile turned into an imp's maliciousness. "Oh, so what was that you were saying about patience, china? China plate: mate. Yes, I'm using the slang just to piss you off right now."
Trench-coat growled at Dante threateningly. "I've got more power than you in this group, noob. I don't know why you're even a part of this."
Dante's grin widened even more. "Oh, you're going to try and get me kicked out? Fine, mate—let's just see how well that plays out!"
The insane voice of reason reached Trench-coat's ears. There was no way he could get Dante kicked out; he was too valuable.
Realizing he'd won, Dante sat back down and stared at Trench-coat mockingly. He was almost untouchable—a ghost in a world of idiots.
THE NEXT DAY:
It was a dark and stormy morning.
The sun was shining, birds were doing bird-like things, and school kids were mercilessly tormenting each other. It was, after all, Middle School. If someone wasn't sad then it just wasn't normal.
The most popular place for this kind of torment was the bathroom. Girls were reasonably safe due to their habit of using it in packs, much like the regal wildebeest.
Boys, however, were lone wolves in the bathroom; and the smaller wolves were beaten senseless by the larger wolves, which were usually either gangster wolves or redneck hounds.
That analogy might have gotten a little carried away.
The unfortunate victim for that particular Wednesday was one Josh Thomas. Josh was one of the 'nerds' of Middle School society—he still played games most others had outgrown in their grade school days and he often said things that, through no fault of his own, got him made fun of.
"Heh-heh…" As one of Josh's tormenters pushed him into a wall, more joined in one the fun. "By beating him up, I seem more masculine!"
One of the lummoxes gasped. "It's true! Let me try!"
What followed was a game of catch played with a living person. The bullies tossed Josh around happily until the door to the boy's room opened. A blonde-haired young man in a red, smiley-face t-shirt stood in the doorway. Despite the cheerful image on his shirt, his face was the picture-perfect definition of cold indifference.
"Do you idiots have to do this in the bathroom?" He asked harshly. His voice had all the kindness of a knife.
Like scared puppies, the thugs stopped what they were doing almost immediately. They all quickly ran out of the bathroom, leaving the blonde-haired young man with Josh.
"You didn't have to do that, Randolph." Josh muttered. He addressed everyone by their full name—it didn't matter what they preferred to be called.
Randolph merely shrugged. "I needed to use the bathroom and those idiots weren't going to leave any time soon. If you grew a spine and stood up to them then you might not get picked on so much."
Randolph's words stung. What was worse was that this was as nice as he ever acted.
"Stand up for yourself; hit them where it hurts and maybe you'll finally get some respect in this dump."
With these words of advice, Randolph walked into one of the stalls.
NEW JERSEY:
"What do you mean, 'You're not coming'?!"
Trench-coat's cell-phone responded in a static-y, garbled message. "But we need someone to show up! Otherwise, this will have been a huge waste of time!"
Dante watched Trench-coat's argument with little interest. He had been in this God-forsaken meeting room for too long now. The Englishman got out of his seat and proceeded to walk towards the elevator.
Trench-coat saw this and immediately glared at him. "Where the hell do you think you're going?! This is an important meeting!"
"In a pig's eye, mate!" Dante mocked. "This whole thing's a disaster! Nobody but you and me showed up; hell, the boss didn't even come!"
Trench-coat turned his cell phone off and sighed, As much as he loathed admitting it, Dante had a point. There was no point in staying there if nobody was going to show up.
"I just hope everyone does what they're supposed to do." He murmured. If things didn't go as the meeting's organizer predicted… well, he tried not to think about that.
With the push of a button, Dante opened the elevator and stepped inside. Trench-coat sighed before following him in. The sliding doors shut and the two left the room.
A SINGLE, RED eye watched the two leave the conference room. The face that held the eye twisted into a sad grimace. He hated that his cohorts couldn't see him—how could he help their plans if they had no idea he existed?
The red-eyed creature sighed. He knew what he would have to do to help their plan—hopefully he could find someone to help him.
Author's Notes: Just review.
Next Time: Eddy: On the Run