A/N: Hey there guys and gals, Archimedies here with the second chapter of this story. I don't really have anything to say, so just enjoy. Review if you want, it really helps make me want to do more, favorite and follow if you want to see more. Peace.
Chapter 2: The Occultist.
Lightining sparked and arced across the clouds, rain pelting the roof of the near deserted office building. A single lamp shone upon the a young girl, sitting at a desk, thumbing through a dusty, decrepit tome, painted with strange glyphs and diagrams of elditch creatures. The darkness seemed to swirl around her, tiny motes of light fluttering. A bank of computer screens had been set up on a desk opposite her, showing views from the many cameras set up around the building. Most of the complex was empty, as she only tended to use the top floors, along with the adjoining warehouse to house any artifacts that needed storing. Or, more often then not, hiding. Due to this excess of space, a multitude of the homeless, poor and destitute had set up in the available space.
She was on quite good terms with them, they didn't ask what she was doing, and in return they got most of the building as living space, and she was always good for some change and a cup of tea if you caught her in the right mood. She watched as one of the cameras on the lowest level gave a warning beep, indicating someone had moved within its radius. Some would say she was paranoid, but they weren't in the position she was. Not by a long shot.
She glanced across, noting it was just Rick. He had laid claim to that particular section of the office, on the ground floor by one of the side entrances. It happened to be the one she used most often, and she would often stop to chat whenever she came by, and hand him some change and perhaps some pastry goods to share with the looked up at the camera, and waved before sitting down on his sleeping bag. She nodded the camera in response. She turned back to her books, but a second beep dragged her back to the screens. This one was from a camera view just outside the door Rick slept by.
She watched with a worried frown as a black van pulled up by the door. And that frown turned to a grimace as a set of armed men in black body suits piled out of it, night vision goggles atop their heads and compact, vicious looking submachine guns, silenced barrels searching the air for threats.
From the ways they moved, and the way they scanned the area, they had to be ex military, probably spec-ops. She felt a chill of terror go down her spine, what had she done that could have the local spooks knocking at her door? Actually, scratch that. She'd done plenty. She slammed her books shut, and activated to the audio on the cameras.
"Fox trot, blow the door"
One of them stepped up, with a long barreled weapon at the ready. Probably a shotgun. He pressed it against the lock, and when it fired, the only sound was a slight cough, and snapping metal. Silenced shotguns?She'd thought they didn't even exist. Definitely spec-ops. She began gathering her things in a backpack, and getting ready to move. She couldn't stay, her location was compromised.
Oh shit. Rick.
She turned back to the cameras, and found Rick standing up in alarm as the soldiers(?) surrounded him.
"Hands on your head sir, hands on your head!"
"What! What have I done!"
"Nothing sir, we're performing a sweep"
"Why!"
"I can't tell you that sir. Hands on your head head sir! We'll zip tie you and, once we're done we'll release you. You have my word"
The soldiers voice was oddly baritone, probably disguised. She sighed in relief as Rick complied, putting his hands on his head. One of the commandos gently pushed him to the ground and zip tied his hands behind his back. She didn't want anyone dying today.
"All callsigns, stand clear"
The man who'd tied him down stood, cocked his gun, and shot Rick through the back of the head. Two shots, little more than coughs in the silence, and Rick jerked straight, before going limp.
She stood for a second, before cold rage flushed her.
No, anger would help no one. Cameras started beeping left and right, as first another, then two more, then four more teams began working their ways through the building, gunning down all in their way. She finished with the backpack, and slammed it on her shoulders, looking down at thse simple skirt, blouse, and flats she was wearing. They'd have to do. She snatched her needles off the desk, and eldritch energy coursed through her hands, purple sparks scouring across her desk, carving deep channels into the wood, feeding off her anger.
"Soon. There are too many for now. Too well trained"
They didn't respond. The only answer was a swelling hunger she felt deep in her gut. She watched as the teams got closer and closer to her study. She sighed, and walked over to the doors, focusing a second, eyes glowing a terrible violet. Glyphs and symbols, hidden until now, burst into flame, appearing across the walls, the ceiling, the floor. A single, brighter, more distinct rune burnt beneath her chair, by her desk, for a few seconds. Before they all disappeared, leaving the room dark once again. Yes, she could hear them now, voices and echos, footsteps and heart beats. She strolled across to the window, and pressed a hand against it. The glass shimmered, glowed, and melted, leaving a hole large enough for her to fit through.
"God, I'm going to miss this place. Oh well. Life goes on"
She looked down at the dozen stories between her and the ground. And jumped, as the door to her study slammed open.
"Blue team, on target!"
"Is the package secured?"
The pointman for the group strode into the room, his squad at his back, covering his flanks. He made his way over to the window, glancing out at the still cooling glass.
"Negative cue ball, package is gone"
"Excuse me?"
"She's gone"
"Damn. Fine, stay there. Touch nothing"
He turned, to relay the order to his group. To see Mathews,the rookie, reaching for the camera bank.
"Mathews, don't!"
He was too late, his hand made contact with the controls. And beneath the chair, the image of an orange sun glimmered to life.
Rose looked up, grinning as her study belched purple fire, shattered glass and a fine dust raining down the from the top floor of the complex. Seems someone wasn't careful where they were poking. The grin fled as quickly as it had came, as she glanced across at the warehouse. So much power, so much art.
So much beauty. Oh well, those treasures could be replaced. This one however, could not be. And due to this fact, the treasure in question, one Rose Lalonde, burst into purple fire and screamed out over the horizon, leaving the silent death and poor, unfortunate souls behind.
It was time for her to relight an old flame. She'd been meaning to pay her a visit any way.
She just wished it had been on her own terms, rather than midway through the bug out boogie.