I'm afraid I will have to change the rating to M, for excessive gore, sex, and violence. This will come in the later chapters, now I'm simply building up to all those elements. I do apologize that this section has arrived late, and that is clear result of my procrastinating.. The chapters I believe will be coming more quickly and smoothly now. Here an antagonist is introduced, and so the plot begins taking shape...
Night overtakes the day, sun and moon thrust into a turbulent battle for dominance over the sky. The deities will continually trade places in this war waged, and thus, their 'battlefield' will adapt under influence.
Currently, the moon is winning.
Its light in a silvery pallor illustrates the ambience of the scene. The sky under siege paid its dues - It was no longer consisting of gorgeous daytime hues, but rather had darkened into a somber cerulean, tinted with airbrushed streaks of aubergine. In addition to the haunting surroundings, a city of shadows and deceit lays below a marvelous building.
A city soon to be plagued by the heinous rampage of Alma Wade. Of course, nobody knew this at the time. Yet, the mood of the town was slightly influenced by her in some way, despite her death years ago.
If you were to stand on the outskirts of the city, you'd witness the resident's houses pale in comparison to one spectacular skyscraper. And if you lived within the bounds of Fairport, you'd know exactly what that skyscraper's name was.
The Valkyrie Tower. Perched atop this imperial citadel, lay a quiescent penthouse. Nearby, through a short maze of halls, was a pool of glimmering stagnant water. Yes, this lavish penthouse is home to only the most successful... It was quite prestigious and held high above. Rewarded to the woman who dominated the upper end of Armacham's hierarchy. Despite all the magnificent arrays, the brilliantly arranged displays of fine art, there lay something... Could it be described as evil? No, malice. The moon's illumination overcasts most man-made light fixtures. Even in the penthouse, nearly every light was subdued, save for the crimson numbers on a digital clock.
The backlit keys of a cell phone are suddenly added to the scene. Her expression is brimming with irritation. Yet she remains in calm composure as she has trained herself. Besides, it was that outlandish serenity that got her this far.
She carefully began dialing in the numbers, until her finger slipped and she mistakenly pressed a 6 instead of a 3. She tries again. Stop slipping. In wasn't terribly long before her finger met the 3, and the phone emitted a shrill ringing.
While awaiting her response - she's pacing the room, impatient as a hollow feline denied its prey. Her short, brown hair is damp. Whether its saturation is from water or oil is undetermined. Perhaps a sleek combination of the two. A neatly polished gold cross dangles from a chain secured around her neck. Her eyes penetrated the surroundings of the caliginous penthouse where she resided. No, there was nothing grotesque this night. Though she'd had quite enough dreadful, hellish nightmares about that girl. The one in the grimy red dress. Alma.
The phone in her hand is now clutched tightly, if it were a person's neck - the esophagus would've been well crushed by now, seeping the warm ruby liquid. The hard shell of the phone is the only thing that prevents it from becoming, well, a jumbled mess of sparking wires.
All at once, the ringing is dead and a man's voice echoes through the device.
"Aristide? What the hell do you want now?"
He received a prompt tirade from Aristide. He was forbidden to use that tone of voice in her presence.
Thus the conversing begins, the subject mainly revolving around that one Project he forgot the name of.
"You honestly believe this will work?"
"Are you doubting me?" She retorts with indignation, her voice curling through the receiver and into his ear.
"N- No ma'am," he is obsequious, as he remembers his job is of little importance to she.
"As expected." In his mind manifests the form of her snide grin, her eyes narrowed in the pleasure of power.
Aristide disregards this suspicion, insisting tirelessly that she is correct. She's quite good at 'persuading', too.
"..Harbinger, you call it?" His tongue works hastily, veering her attention to a new subject.
"Yes."
"And what of the failed specimen?" His inquiry is sharp, yet not barbed enough to appear hostile.
"They can easily be disposed of," The break between her words is terse, but what follows holds a malevolent note "...Or kept as reminders."
"Now," From his throat erupts a cough before continuation, "You say you have some sort of...? 'Team' for this project?" It's quite troublesome to talk, since just this weekend he banished a distressing flu from his system. He swivels 90 degrees to give his calendar a long stare. Today is Tuesday, and his throat is very dry. He wants water. But he can't. Awaiting her reply.
"Composed of only the most diligent and effective."
"And how, exactly, do you plan on getting these members?"
"There's a reason we had Wade Elementary, you know." Her remark rests in disturbing light, but he is determined to be silenced. For the sake of his job.
"Oh. I'm guessing that Becket is one of the unlucky." Becket. One of the few, promising specimen, one who was most often summoned to the Nurse's office. During his time with the others in that wretched place, he was noted to be less social and more.. Aggressive in behavior.
"Actually, he's the first. But... His potential is so... very odd. They've agreed to continue studying him until the time is right for him to be assigned."
"Any others?"
"I will be sending you list. I need you to assign them all to a solitary team."
An impotent route of response, but he subdued his disdain. Not tonight, not tonight. He was keeping his emotions collected well until
But receive the list he did. The names sprawled out over the screen of his phone read, 'Cedric Griffin, James Fox, Manuel Morales, Redd Jankowski, and Harold Keegan.'
"When does it need to be assembled?" A pause, laced by an arisen suspicion. This, however, slips beyond her notice.
"As soon as possible."
Immediately as those obdurate words sprang from her lips, her finger maneuvered to the red button that terminated the call.
AN: This was a very short chapter... It's actually more of a transition into the adulthoods of our leading duo. Also, thank you to anyone who reviewed, it is much appreciated!
- NZ