A/N:
Sorry for the slow updating. I've been carefully planning out the story, even though I'm only to chapter six, to see if i can't fix my sequencing flaws. Bear with me, I'll try to keep more or less steady. Right now, I'll compensatewith longer than usual chapters. Hope you enjoy it!
The Mask Hides...
One day at school, I read a quote. It was 'To know yourself, you must know the world around you.'
If that's true, I've known myself since the age of four.
Nothing was hidden from me as I slipped behind a car, a dark colored automobile that matched my clothing perfectly.
It had taken less than an hour to find the shop Lord Jaakeni had spoken of. Less than that to get ready and steal aboard a passing Semi-trailer and ride the two hours to Cookstown, Kansas.
When I was four, I talked to imaginary friends, or that was what my parents said. I was speaking to birds. As I got older, my speech got stronger, more perfected. Soon, I could speak with any animal within a certain distance. Events that happened between my fourteenth and sixteenth year made it possible to see things exactly as they happened, even from miles away, so long as the medium was correct.
This is what Lord Jaakeni used me for. Any thing that must be found, I find. Never, ever did I fail him, not once.
I stole behind the building and gently scraped the rug at the back door aside. The door was set into a decaying red brick wall, thick with crawling bugs just under the surface. I picked up the set of spare keys from the ground and unlocked the door.
Inside the building, the hallway was dank, just as I knew it would be. There were termites in the walls in intricates mazes, and a small plate of rat poison next to another door which swung open with no protest.
In the Shen Curio Shop, the shelves were covered with plastic figurines and paper cranes. There was very little of actual value, but that didn't stop the owner from charging cut throat prices. The sign above the door displayed a black dragon with its mouth open in a permanent snarl.
I shook my head. I wasted time, doing this. It wasn't as if I were looking with my own eyes anyway. All I needed was the scale.
I bowed my head and concentrated, sifting my thoughts through the information that was constantly updating itself. This information came from any animal that was near by, even if it wasn't actually speaking to me The information flowed like a river that I was only partially submerged in. I moved through the useless information quickly. I didn't want to be thinking for too long. It would leave me open to attack. Also…
It made me feel uncomfortable to be in this section of my mind. As if I were intruding on creatures that would simply stare at me as if I were the trespasser. But how could I be a trespasser in my own mind? It made no sense. I pushed it aside. I had the location I needed.
Apparently, the shopkeeper had known the scale was of some value. He had it in a safe hidden behind a wall of clutter. I slinked over to the safe and started pulling away the old magazine and paperweights, carefully shooing away the spiders who were so kind to give me the location I needed.
The lock had a combination, but I knew what that was with a little 'coaxing' from a nest of starlings outside. I bent down and began to twirl the combination lock, totally engrossed with what I was doing. I pushed everything out of my mind except the task at hand.
Right thirty-four.
Left nineteen.
Right twenty-six.
The door clicked open and I pulled out the only content-a box of some sort, probably cardboard, that rattled when I shook it lightly. I checked the box carefully in my peripheral mind vision…yes, the glow was there. The soft, strange glow that pure magic set off, that could only be seen by certain types of eyes, mostly of birds…
A sudden, alien sound behind me caused me to freeze.
There was someone there. I silently cursed myself. I had been too interested in the safe to cover myself. Without turning around, I used my mind to gather information about my foe.
The prognosis was not good. He was taller than me, stronger than me, and by far more aggressive. I could smell the aggression, the raw power that seemed to move in waves. And claws. Claws that sprouted from his fists.
I had dealt with mutants before. Some of the more rich people I stole from had them as bodyguards. Usually, I was careful enough not to let them see me. But sometimes, I got a little ahead of myself.
But there is always a contingency plan.
"Alright, back away from that safe, buddy." He flexed his claws. "Or you're going to be on the cover of the newspaper, and not in a good way."
He saw the figure in black slip something away, then stand up slowly. It was shorter than him.
Is it a kid? He wondered. What would a kid be doing stealing from this place? It didn't look like anything was of value.
"Turn around." He ordered. "Slowly now."
The figure was clothed in black pants and what looked like a black, hooded jacket. As the figure turned, he could see the hood had been pulled low in front of the face.
"Turn all the way around, no funny business." He stood on guard, ready for anything, but expecting the scared face of some punk.
What he got was something he would have never expected.
It was a mask. A mask with no eyes or marking.
"What the…" He gaped in surprise.
In all of his years of combat, he knew not to drop his guard. But he did, and whoever it was knew. It wasn't much of a bared weakness, but whoever it was saw the opportunity, somehow, and needed no urging.
He saw it coming. He cursed loudly and swung his claws down, hoping to wing it. The person sidestepped the claws even before they came close to hitting and stepped forward, until his nose was inches from the cold, bone colored mask with no eyes.
The mask blocked his vision and he didn't see the blow coming until too late.
A cheap, five dollar paperweight crashed into his eye, causing him to flinch back from pain. When he shook the pain off, the figure was already running down the hall back to the door he had found open.
He ran after the figure, a sense of rage overtaking him. This guy had a lot of nerve, pulling something like that, and he was going to catch him, come hell or high water.
The figure was pulling ahead of him, running low to the ground. He tore after him, pooling all of his stamina.
There was no way a freak in a mask, was going to get the better of him, especially when he was angry. Tearing through alleyways and side streets, he kept pace with the figure, but stayed always thirty feet behind. It was getting difficult to see the running masked figure.
"Mask! Get back here!"
'Mask' sped up. He swore and yelled at himself mentally for wasting his breath.
Mask took a sudden turn by reaching out and grabbing a stop sign and swinging himself around ninety degrees, letting go at exactly the right moment, with a burst of speed from the swing.
Who was this guy? He couldn't be blind, he had to see somehow…
He turned the corner of the stop sign fast, swinging wide into the road.
HHHOOOOONNKKKK!
He had a split second sight of headlights flooding the road before he jumped to the side out of reflex, just missing the screaming tires. The large red truck careened down the road before hitting a parked car.
Ignoring the driver who got out and screamed obscenities at him, Logan looked around the dark street.
Mask was gone.
"Shut up!" He roared at the driver, his temper getting better of him. The driver scurried away at the sight of his claws.
Damn. Now he had to leave. The driver was probably calling the police at this very second.
He was torn between finding Mask and not getting thrown in jail or shot. Both had the same pull.
The sirens sounded a few streets over. There was no use going after Mask now, he realized. The guy would probably be more on guard with police, and if Mask could surprise him, then he could stay hidden.
Logan could hide too. He turned , sheathing his claws, and walked quickly back down the alleyway as police sirens began to echo through the streets.
I dodged away from a puddle as I sped away downtown, looking for something, anything, to mask my presence, somewhere to hide.
The man in the shop, mutant though he was, wasn't my biggest problem. He stopped chasing me. It was the pursuers I'd picked up by stupidly passing under a street lamp, giving away my position to everyone.
Ghallia soldiers were hot on my tail.
They'd been waiting to catch sight of me or any of lord Jaakeni's followers. They couldn't find the artifacts-they had to steal them, usually by outnumbering their prey.
At four to one, I had to admit, I was outnumbered.
I slid into shadows and began using my limbs in any way to go faster and stay hidden at the same time. I had to keep calm, because emotion draws them like moths to flames. And as of right now, I knew they didn't know where I was, but in which direction I was headed. If I could find the right amount of cover, I could give them the slip.
I should have left them behind before. I had melted back into the shadows and doubled back several times, even passing the squad on the way, but it didn't work. It hadn't worked except for a few seconds each time, giving almost no breathing space at all.
It was the leader. He (I could tell he was male in the way he moved, a little more aggression in his stride) seemed to have an inner compass, always pointing him to my position. He was the one that turned when the group went too far, the one that seemed to be sensitive to every little direction change I made.
My legs ached painfully as I rounded a corner and met up with a chain link fence. I hurriedly opened the door and scrambled into the area that the sign on the fence had forbidden entry.
My body was aching. My stamina wasn't nearly good enough to take a marathon all over Kansas.
In the construction site beyond the fence, there were dogs sifting through trashcans and cats yowling their adversaries away from the few scraps of the day. It was perfect. More eyes meant I saw my surroundings more clearly.
The construction site was building a four story building, but it was only half finished. I began climbing up its skeleton. Boards had been placed here and there, but none were close to creating a full wall.
The squad was close.
There was a hanging platform of boards and such hanging outside the third floor, covered in a tarp. I was almost there.
I could hear the squad with my own ears now. They were thundering forward, with the leader moving a full ten steps ahead of the rest.
Damn. I sped up, finally getting to the platform. I got onto it carefully, And slid under the tarp, just as the leader ran into the site.
He stopped, and for the first time I got a good look of how he looked, not just how he moved.
He was short, something I had missed in my run to get away. The way he moved must've made him seem larger. He could only be a few inches higher than myself. His hair seemed to be odd, not human like, but no unhumanlike, either. I couldn't see his features all that well, the cats were hiding and my ability to see in the dark had lessned. I could see he was thin, and the slightest built of the entire squad. And he was looking around carefully at things.
He knew I was here.
The other three reminded me of movie muscle. Big, strong, not incredibly worth asking opinions of. One wasn't as muscled but looked like a weed on miracle grow-the man had to be over seven feet.
Suddenly, there seemed to be some sort of argument between the three. I couldn't understand them, though I heard the words. It was Ghallia, I guessed.
Apparently it was an aggravated argument that didn't touch their leader.
It was the wariness I sensed first. The wariness a bunch of dogs feel when a new dog is introduced, but the dog is different in the way that it doesn't fight but the other dogs know not to cross the line. It was rare, but always to be watched, because sometimes the quiet dogs were the meanest, nastiest creatures of all.
The argument exploded into a few nasty sounding words and the three bounded off, leaving the leader in his spot.
A few minutes ticked past, and he hadn't moved. Most of my attention was on him now, since his friends were long gone.
I felt around for a suitable piece of weapon, and my hand closed around an iron pole, a little shorter than myself.
Why wasn't he leaving? Was he psychic? I had heard of psychic mutants, but never met any, barring myself, and maybe Ghallia had some of their own.
He was looking up at the building now.
I felt it coming. I tried to keep it down, but it came anyway.
A twinge of fear.
It was so sudden that I and the man below paused. Then he started moving. I grabbed the pole and swept up the tarp I had put over myself. He suddenly disappeared from my vision, but not completely.
Certain Ghallia spies have an amazing talent, to go invisible to human eyes. I once read an article that the human eyes see only a certain number of waves of light, and anything below or above the window becomes invisible. This is what they do. They move out of the human sight spectrum.
Luckily, my human eyes are covered. I rely on others.
There was only a slight, out of focus shifting of color down there. I jumped into space, pole down. There was a whistle of wind as I fell. More fear knotted inside of me. The man stopped.
In just the right position for the pole to hit him.
There was a yell and the man phased back. The force of the pole piercing his shoulder and slamming him to the ground had been enough to slow my descent so I wouldn't hurt myself.
I didn't bother to stop and look. It would take him awhile to get the pole out, it had him pinned to the ground. I ran.
I saw him jerk in pain and struggle to free himself. It made me run faster.
I ran until I felt my lungs and body burn. I was far away now. He wasn't giving chase.
I had accomplished the mission. All I had to do now was get back before dawn, and easy enough task.
Lord Jaakeni would be proud. I was glad.
He would congratulate me on injuring the Ghallia spy. When he did, I would feel proud.
But right now, I couldn't help but feel sick.
Please leave reviews and most importantly, any constructive criticisms you may have on the way out!
PrincessofWildfire: Thanks so much for writing back. As for the evil Danny part, that will be talked about more later. Anyway, I'm glad you critiqued me. I never have been all that certain if my writing has been making any big leaps, because my mental thinking tends to stay the same, and I'm never certain if what i'm doing improves. Though, I have high hopes for this. I hope you like it alot. And as for feeling bad for Scott, remember-he still has the funnies.