Choice of Music: Nightlife - IamX
Chapter 4 - The Different One
"I ask again, who are you?" the girl asked. Rage struggled to open his mouth, fighting for words that failed to come to him. The girl was tensed up, waiting and ready should he attempt to do anything. Everything seemed to just be stuck in time.
He took one step towards her, and everything seemed to happen all at once. Darkness filled the room, the clang of the dagger dropping onto the floor. The smell of smoke explained the source of the darkness, candles blown out swiftly. As for the girl, she was gone, seemingly disappearing into the darkness. Without warning, he felt himself shoved backwards into the window, glass fracturing at the sheer force.
A strong hand gripped his arm tightly, dragging him from the room. The soft glow of votives illuminating the end of the hallway seemed to be the only source of light in the area. The closer to the other end they came, he looked up to find out who was dragging him. "Fuck," he cursed under his breath.
"This is an absolute outrage!" Nicholas shouted, not once relenting on the forceful grip he had. "What the hell possessed you to think that you could just wander into my house at this time of night! What caught your eye, boy?"
"What?"
"What was it that you were looking to steal?"
"I wasn't going to steal anything!"
"Lies." Entering the living room, the man practically threw the Douji onto the couch. "Do not move, boy."
"Who was the girl?" Rage questioned him, watching the man pick up a phone. Most likely to call his Master, no doubt. Fussa would be infuriated.
"I've told you before, there is no girl here," Nicholas growled. Noticing his attire, Rage was surprised that the man was still in his slacks and dress shirt from the day previous. No pajamas, not a thing was changed.
"Then what about the girl with red hair? The one who the kitten belonged to?"
"There is no girl here! And if there was, it would most certainly be not your business!"
"I think it is my business if she tried to attack me!" Rage shouted back, standing from the couch.
"She was not trying to attack you!" Nicholas retorted, not careful of his words. "She was only trying to protect herself." Realizing what he just said, the man pinched the bridge of his nose. "You must forget I said that."
"Why?"
"Because there have been too many problems, too much trouble," Nicholas spoke. Pushing the Douji, he quickly ushered him towards the door. "If you have found your way here, then you can find your way back." Opening the front door, the Douji was quickly shoved out onto the porch. "Goodbye."
"Wait!" Rage spoke, pushing his foot into the door, "What's her name?"
"It doesn't matter," Nicholas uttered quickly, trying to shut the door on him.
"What is her name?" The man hesitated, contemplating the question.
"It's Vivian." And with those words, Rage allowed the man to shut the door, stepping backwards. The click of a deadbolt seemed to practically seal him away from the interior of the household, hiding what remained inside.
"Vivian," the wrathful Douji mumbled, trying the name himself. "Her name is Vivian."
Running off the porch, he stopped on the sidewalk when he felt as though someone was watching him. Looking up into her window, he could see the broken window and slow moving curtain. The girl, Vivian, gazed out at him, trying to hide among her drapes. A hand pressed up against the glass gently, dark eyes studying him. Rage simply watched her back, raising his hand to wave slightly.
He almost failed to notice it before she disappeared once again. A small smile, then a flutter of curtains, and she was gone. Rage smirked slightly to himself. Vivian, there was something about her. It was different, new, strange. Dangerous.
"I'll be seeing you later," he mumbled, jogging off down the street. No, not towards his own home. Fussa would be pissed, and that was not something he wanted to deal with it.
The next thing he knew, he was being rolled off a couch and onto the hardwood floor. "What the hell made you want to crash here?" a voice growled at him. Opening his teal eyes forcefully, he could see a wild mass of black hair and green jog suit. Vice replaced himself on the couch, where the wrathful Douji once was.
"Fussa is gonna be pissed," Rage stated bluntly.
"What did you do now?" Vice questioned, chewing absentmindedly on the neck of the galbis bottle. "Went to a concert? Broke into a store and stole another guitar?"
"Girl."
The evil Douji chuckled. "What about it?"
"She's not human," Rage explained, sitting himself up on the floor. "At least I don't think she is. She's a different."
With those words, he could see Vice tense up slightly. Not out of fear, no. Vice feared nothing. "How different?"
" 'Making rotten, moldy mushrooms look like the sweetest and most delicious cupcakes' different." Rage smiled slightly as Vice shuddered to himself. The memory of crossing a different had yet to leave the epitome of evil. It was one of the very few times that Vice had ever been brought down a notch, and not by his own choice either.
"So, what are you gonna do about her?" the Ultimate evil questioned him.
"I don't know yet. She doesn't seem like the others. Not like Enit, though."
"What about Faylin?"
"No, definitely not. She's most likely from Enit's place, though." Rage stood, stretching out until he could hear the joints pop. "I just don't know exactly what she is yet. I won't hold my breath until then."
"Don't eat anything she offers you," Vice spoke monotonously, staring at the television. The other Douji smirked. Of all the times Vice could have pissed him off and there wasn't anything Rage could do about it, seeing the Ultimate Evil having to lean over a toilet as he regurgitated the worst of human garbage was surely a sight to see.
"I know."
It had been over a week since he had broken into the Strensky household, and Rage had yet to ease out from under Fussa's iron fist. As guessed, his Master was beyond irate, taking away many of his Douji's rights and freedoms around the house. He wasn't allowed to leave the house unless ordered to, wasn't allowed leisure activity, wasn't allowed anything unless his Master approved of it first. There was a concert coming up soon, so all he could do was practice and wait.
"Fussa, I want a backstage ticket," he grumbled, toying with the guitar on his lap.
"If Vice wanted to get backstage, he doesn't need a pass for it."
"It's not for him," Rage retorted, trying to keep his anger in check.
"You are not using all your passes on the Douji."
"It's for Vivian."
Putting down his newspaper, Fussa raised an eyebrow. "Vivian?"
"Vivian Strensky."
"If she doesn't come, that's one pass wasted," the man replied, returning to his paper. "What makes you so sure that she'll come?"
"Why not? They are passes to see me, and maybe she's just as curious to know me as I am to her."
"Fine. She doesn't come, it's on your head." Rage gave himself an internal fist pump of triumph. Now, to get it to her.
Everything was in place now. The ticket and pass was secured safely into the envelope, along with a note from the Douji himself. He let Fussa park a few blocks behind the estate, making sure that Nicholas wouldn't be able to spot them if something should occur.
Moving quickly, Rage kept himself out of sight, a careful eye on the lookout in case the man was spotted. He was allowed to continue uninterrupted once he decided the coast was clear, jumping up onto the first floor roof and move towards her window. The sun was not fully set yet, small rays on sun gleaming against her window. He couldn't see the flicker of candles just yet, but it would have to do.
Sliding the envelope through a small crack beneath, he tapped on the window four times and bolted. It didn't take long for him to get out of sight and back into the car. "Well?" Fussa questioned.
"I have my fingers crossed," Rage replied, fastening his seatbelt. As they drove past, he couldn't help but notice that the envelope was gone.
