Disclaimer: I do not own any the World of Darkness. This is a non-profit fan-made story.
A/N: So, I apologize for the delay in updating. Things got a bit crazy. Anyways, this chapter may be a bit different than my usual format. Nothing too serious I hope. As it is, feel free to read and review.
Chapter 3: Unpleasant Wake Up Call
Trevor didn't really know what was going on. Only that he was running late. He wasn't even sure for what. Work, he supposed, but that didn't seem right. He was trying to run down the street, to make up for time lost when the bus swerved off the road and into a light post. He knew he should have been more concerned. There were people on that bus, after all. But he was running late, for something very, very important.
Over the tops of the other buildings, he could see the library, the large clock set into its steeple clicked forward another minute, sounding the large bells to echo through the streets. Wait... Had the library always been so tall? And since when did it have a a giant clock? He slowed his run, his head starting to feel oddly fuzzy, like it couldn't hold onto the images and sounds he was seeing around him. A dull buzzing started somewhere in the back of his head with such intensity that it caused his vision to blur.
He stumbled, losing his footing and pitching forward. He threw his arms forward to brace himself, but the harsh sensation of the asphalt tearing the flesh of his palms never came. Instead, he found himself tumbling end over end through black space. He could swear he heard a dark laugh following his descent.
Trevor opened his eyes, and immediately slammed them shut again as he became aware of one thing, and one thing only at the moment. He was in pain. A lot of it. Breathing hurt. Moving hurt. Right now, the simple act of being conscious hurt. He supposed he could be thankful he was still alive; years of gravity making him its bitch had given him an instinctual knack for trying to minimize damage during a fall. And he vaguely wondered that if this was what minimized damage felt like, he would have probably opted for the 'death' option. At least death is supposed to be painless.
"'Ey, Crestmere! Yer boy's awake!" A deep, loud, and thickly accented voice called through the library. The volume of it making Trevor wince and try to move his hands to his head. As it turns out, this was a mistake, as every fiber in his upper back protested the action fiercely, forcing a pained groan up through Trevor's lips.
The sound of footsteps drove home another point. Specifically, that the man had called out for Mr. Crestmere. Trevor figured he was about to find a whole new definition for the term 'in a world of shit'. How the hell was he going to explain to his boss what happened. Would the old man even believe him? Probably not. Hell, Trevor wouldn't be surprised if he found himself with charges pressed against him just because his boss was feeling extra spiteful that day.
Before he could finish composing his mental will, he found the heavily lined face of Mr. Crestmere staring down at him with a glare that he was pretty sure could make the devil himself cringe away. "Mr. Reed..." He started, and while his tone was usually stern, what Trevor was hearing now was a whole new level, and it actually caused Trevor to swallow nervously and dart his eyes around instinctively, looking for an exit. "I want you to explain to me why I had to come to my library in the middle of the night to find toppled shelves of books, multiple broken windows, a destroyed stair bannister, and my janitor taking a nap in the middle of my lobby..."
Trevor was pretty sure he was already up shit creek, and while a lot of people find themselves enjoying the ride without a paddle, Trevor was getting the feeling that he hadn't even bothered with the canoe for this trip.
He took a breath to try to explain what happened, an action that sent pain lancing through his back and ribs, and causing him to wish he could simply return to the sweet embrace of unconsciousness. Alas, that did not seem to be forthcoming. So, after squeezing his eyes shut and trying to focus on anything but the pain, he tried again.
"I..." He started, before he realized he wasn't sure where to start. It was hard to gather one's thoughts in a situation such as this, it would appear. Especially since the whole situation seemed crazy to him. And if it seemed crazy to him, he could only imagine how someone with no seeming sense of humor or imagination would perceive it. But, the man wanted an explanation...
"I was just doing my job... Vacuuming the second floor... Next thing I know, the window breaks, and some big scary guy is stalking through the library... He swats me away like I'm some kind of insect and heads off after Celia..." At this point, Mr. Crestmere held up a hand to silence him. Trevor didn't like the implications. Being cut off like this usually meant he was about to call bullshit on your story, and Trevor did not want to think on what consequences that would lead to.
"You say they were after Celia? Tell me, did you get a good look at the book she was reading?" Hearing these words coming from Mr. Crestmere's mouth left Trevor struck dumb. He had been expecting the old man to call him a liar. To yell angrily about the destruction done, to threaten lawsuit after lawsuit. This was honestly not something he expected to hear.
"I... Well.. Not really... It was sorta' big, with a hard cover... Blue, I think... It was kind of hard to tell. I was still on the other side of the library..." Any hope Trevor may have felt from Mr. Crestmere accepting his words immediately vanished as the man's face contorted into one angrier than he had ever seen before. Thankfully the old man didn't say anything further to him, just turning to walk away, occasionally calling something out to some of the other people that were there. Trevor wasn't surprised. He figured the police or maybe the paramedics would be there. But still, not many people were so blatantly disrespectful to talk like that to a law enforcement officer.
"Well now, tha' coulda' gone bettah." The accented voice from earlier said, before the man it belonged to leaned over him and allowed him to place a face with the name. If Trevor had to guess, he'd say the man was probably in his late twenties. Probably military, given the blonde crew cut, and the fact that he seemed to be missing a neck, amidst the muscles of his shoulders. "You feelin' alrigh' mate?"
Trevor tried to manage a smile. Not a really easy task. "Oh yeah... Peachy keen. I just got dropped off the second floor of a library, and will probably end up losing my job. I figure about one industrial accident away from having the perfect day." He said, the sarcasm in his voice competing with the pain for dominance. The other man just chuckled.
"Well, it's nice ya' go' a sense o' humor abou' it." The man looked around the library, and Trevor tried to lift his head to look around as well. While he was able to deal with the pain as long as he was still, moving created a whole new kind of hurt. He was actually pretty sure if he could put words to it, aside from the string of obscenities that passed his lips, he could actually use it to redefine the word 'pain'. The man turned his attention back to him as this happened. "'Ey now, take it easy." He said, though Trevor realized the words were unnecessary. After all, after that experience, he was in no hurry to rush.
At least he wasn't until he heard the familiar footfalls of Mr. Crestmere returning. "Mr. Reed..." If Trevor closed his eyes, it really didn't take all that much imagination for him to picture the grim reaper standing over him, reading his name from 'the list'. "It seems there is much you don't know about. We will have to remedy this." Trevor opened his eyes, not sure what to make of these words. If Mr. Crestmere noticed, he didn't let on, instead pressing on with what he had been saying. "Like it or not, Mr. Reed, you have gotten yourself tangled up in something far bigger than you can possibly imagine. And your ignorance is now a glaring weakness..."
'Wow...' Trevor thought wryly. 'He must be the go to guy for pep-talks and inspirational speeches...'
"You will begin your training next week." This snapped Trevor out of his musings and back into reality. The word 'training' had never set well with him. It always brought to mind images of his high-school Phys Ed teacher. The man was an ex-marine apparently, and somehow seemed to forget that the students in his class weren't. "Douglas..." Mr. Crestmere continued, his voice forcing aside the unpleasant memories of gym classes past. "Please see to Mr. Reed's recovery. I will be working on a schedule."
The sound of Mr. Crestmere walking away was interrupted by the face of the man who was apparently Douglas. The expression on his face could only really be described as one of pity. "Tough break, mate..." He said simply, but Trevor wasn't paying much attention. He'd tried once more to sit up, to try to get Mr. Crestmere's attention. To ask what the fuck was going on. Unfortunately, it was a bad move, as the pain screamed through his back, shoulders, and neck. He couldn't get out more than a pained gasp, before he found himself slumping over, not quite unconscious, but the blackness encroaching on the edge of his vision let him know that it wasn't far off.
'Great... What pile of shit did the universe drop me into now?' He didn't have long to think about this question, before the blackness consumed him.
I don't pretend to know how the universe works. I don't pretend to understand luck, or karma or any of it. I don't think I would want to given the chance. I guess I'm worried that if I did, I'd see the universe for the sadistic, uncaring monster it really is as it hides behind collective ignorance.
-Random Excerpt from the Journal of Trevor Reed
A/N: So, there it is. I'll try to keep my updates a bit more timely, but I can't really promise much. Let me know what you think. Or don't. Up to you really.