By Chustang Sundust
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Chapter 1
"Lost the Spark"
June 14. Six years later.
The boy, now grown, had foolishly engaged himself in a race.
A race that was nothing more than a bloody fight over one patch of space.
A scream escaped him, as the battle he was presently locked in became a
single level of intensity too much. In the darkness of the abandoned warehouse,
the neck-snapping punch connected to Gene's face. The man who had delt
the blow just snorted, dissatisfied, and wiped the blood from his fist.
"I should finish you off now, but I don't like killing children," he spat,
as Gene's punished body finally collapsed. "Learn to watch that dirt you
call your mouth. When you learn to be a man, find me again. I'd like to
settle this feud." Enclosed in darkness, the man recovered the gun Gene
had kicked away, shoved open the rusted door, which allowed the pale moonlight
to flood in, and walked away.
The roguish teenager gritted his teeth, struggling to raise himself.
Blood was streaming down his disfigured face, and there was a cut across
his fingers and palm that was clotted. Gene sat in silence, staring at
the man as he walked away.
"Damn it."
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Angelene is sure that he's the cure
He's got a kind of reckless allure
Like a fast ride on the wild side
So she turns her cheek when he's
Havin' a mean streak
And if you ask her real sweet,
She won't look you in the eye
And she's calling it love, ah, but there
Is no resemblance
It's a drive down a dead end road
On the path of most resistance
Exert from Angelene by Jo Dee Messina
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Gene opened the door, cautious to be quiet. He was staggering
from shellshock, the duel still fresh in his mind. Moonlight poured into
the living room of Starwind and Hawking Enterprises, and his shadow cut
that light as he walked silently in. Hopefully, he wouldn't wake anybody
up. He looked at the clock on the table, its red light flashing 3:13 A.M.
The Devil's hour.
He staggered up the stairs, letting the house fall into darkness
again. As he climbed to the upper level, he could hear Jim sleepily groan
at him, sleeping in the bed nearest to the stairs. "Go to bed, Aniki…"
he grumbled at him subconsciously, curling the blankets tighter around
him. Gene smiled, and then walked stealthily past. In the top-level bedroom,
he could hear Melfina sleeping quietly as well. He paused, contentedly
gazing at her, and turned to find his own bed.
With a muted yawn, the teenager stretched his cramped arms and
fingers. He unlatched the caster's sheath belt, set the firearm carefully
down beside the bed, and undressed. His clothes were smeared with blood,
which shined a dark crimson in the moonlight from the upper story window.
Gene bit his lip, disgruntled with this, and journeyed back down the stairs,
with the blood-spattered clothes folded.
"Great, now I have to do laundry," he grumbled.
Once the bloodied clothing was being washed, Gene stumbled back upstairs,
fingers lazily scratching his head through the dirty, messy red hair. He'd
never been so drained before, even after being stuck in space for three
days… after his dad… Gene snapped himself to reality suddenly, not wanting
to remember. With eyes avoiding all the people that weren't watching, he
sighed softly, sitting down in his bed. Why did he always have to remember?
Absently, his scarred fingers reached for a picture on the bed stand.
Gene lifted it, and the photograph seemed to weigh like a boulder in his
hands. In the darkness, he could barely make out the grinning face
of his father, hearty and youthful with black hair and a stocky body, the
elegance and sweetness of his redheaded mother, who was tall and lanky
with flame red hair cascading around her shoulders. And of course, their
son. As he focused his anguished, tired blue eyes on the young boy
he saw, he no longer could say he was there. That couldn't be him. Not
a chance.
That boy, short but smiling, wasn't Gene Starwind. Or was he not? It
seemed so confusing to him. In all the pictures he owned, there was a redheaded
little boy, with the same youthful blue eyes. It couldn't be him. The Gene
he saw in the mirror, was, well… just a lie. The little boy had been happy,
content, and loved…
He was angry, depressed, and punished. All because of that dream… that
damn foolish dream he had pursued. Gene had become this twisted mirage
of himself, at his own hand. If I had only said no… then maybe, he would
have stayed. Just like he promised me, for my birthday. We would have had
gone to the park, finished and played with my remote boat, and he wouldn't
have died. I'd still be home… Mom wouldn't be dying form worry, she wouldn't
have gone crazy waiting for me… waiting for Dad, even though he couldn't
possibly have returned home.
"I'm not that boy," he whispered to himself, letting the picture settle
back to the bed stand. He felt a ragged breath burn in his throat, and
the hotness of tears quivered through his entire body. "I'm just a selfish
little lie, who killed for a living and never returns money…" His voice
trailed off with the mounting desolation and shame.
Lying back, losing his eyes in the moonlight-tinted sky of stars, one
he knew, loved, and hated so well, he just sighed and fell asleep. "I'm
not anyone, anymore…"
Melfina just lost herself, in the swirling thickness of confusion. Her
light brown, energetic eyes were downcast and dark with anguish. The same
question haunted her… like a lie. She lay, sweating in the unusual
hotness of the bed, and wondered if anyone could ever understand what she
was feeling. She wondered if Gene really had meant what he said. It wasn't
like she didn't trust him. Oh no, Melfina trusted him and Jim more than
anything in the world.
Why am I laying in bed, awake? she asked herself. I'll never
get to sleep…
Just then, she heard footsteps past the dark room, cautious and
gentle. Quickly, the bio-android blinked her bright brown eyes open, to
gaze on who was walking past. In the moonlight-painted top-level, she instantly
noticed the ruffled blaze of read hair. Gene. He was drunkenly staggered
to his bed. The second thing she locked her gaze on, was his face. There
was a huge bruise across his right cheek, and it was slightly red from
blood.
Oh Gene, not another fight…
Melfina sank back into the warm depths of the pillow, her long
black hair glistening in a few rays of moonlight that crept into the room.
She could her a voice, sealing her eyes as the same pressing feeling of
confusion swept over her. Someone please, just tell me who I am, she begged
silently. As her mind began to desperately wander, she could make out the
voice clearly.
"I'm not that boy. I'm just a selfish little lie, who killed
for a living and never returns money."
Gene. What does he mean?
"I'm not anyone, anymore…"
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Author's Notes
Well, that chapter took long for being so short… ^_^; I guess that's
it. I really dislike Melfina's perfect manners, but when she acts more
like a teenager (like at the cemetery in the last episode) she's pretty
cool. That verse is from my second favorite Jo Dee Messina song. It's very
cool; you should hear it. Please read and review!