《Gods & Aliens》 Prologue A young child lies unconscious on an examination table. A hovering monitor displaying her vitals in real time¡ªbeeping in acknowledgment of the steady rise and fall of her chest. As Doctor explains the readout to the father of the child, who looks like he would have been a nervous wreck, if not for his clear position of importance. ¡°What you are asking of me is impossible, Velkor.¡± The doctor says. ¡°You can not simply sever a specific ability. The effects it would have on the mind of the patient would be disastrous.¡± he advices. Velkor stands straight, hands folded at his back behind majestic robes. He looks unsure about his daughter on the table, eyes flicking steadily between her and the doctor stood by his side. ¡°Suppression perhaps?¡± he suggests and the doctor tenses. ¡°Anything at all so she can not use them anymore?¡± ¡°My Lord, she is hardly ... typical.¡± he settles on. ¡°I wouldn''t know where to begin.¡± he pauses. ¡°If she is as dangerous as you say she is--¡° ¡°Do not speak another word, if you are going to suggest I exterminate my daughter.¡± The doctor cowers in fear, eyes shifting to the ground in reverence. ¡°I apologize, your honor.¡± Velkor eyes the man beside him, considering a punishment befitting of his near irreverence, when a Palace guard interrupts, addressing him. You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. ¡°My Lord.¡± He salutes quickly before offering a quick bow. ¡°The council requests your presence.¡± Velkor acknowledges the man with a curt nod. ¡°I will be along shortly.¡± he answers, eyes not leaving the child in front of him. ¡°They insisted I returned with you immediately, My Lord.¡± Viktor hums softly before turning to the Doctor. ¡°Guard her.¡± He instructs, before striding out the lab, guard in tow. Velkor is stood in the center of a room, Giant holographic heads scrutinizing him, The Council. A pompous egomaniacal jury who made life and death decisions under the comfort of anonymity. Convening with them was easily the worst part of his week, rendered even worse whenever he was issued a summons. ¡°I am handling it as we speak.¡± he grits out, fists clenching behind his back. It would be unseemly for a Sovereign to lose his calm. ¡°Our atmosphere nearly collapsed on itself.¡± the first head gruffs. ¡°The child is unpredictable, what happens next when she decides to throw a tantrum?¡± another adds. ¡°We are working on a way to safely rid her of her powers.¡± Velkor says. ¡°And if you cannot?¡± the first head thunders ominously. The only female head in the Congress assuages. ¡°You know what needs to be done.¡± ¡°Please do not ask me to kill the child, Councilwoman.¡± Velkor pleads, very nearly crumbling. ¡°We are not asking you.¡± She assures him, proceeding to shatter his heart with her next sentence. ¡°We are more than capable of assisting where you hesitate.¡± Velkor hurries in without the guard this time, his rapid steps startling the doctor. He smooths a hand down his clothes in a bid to regain his composure before asking. ¡°Is everything alright, My Lord?¡± Velkor ignores him, pacing the room a couple of times, face screwed in thought. The doctor traces him dutifully with his eyes. ¡°Memory erasure.¡± Velkor finally says, and the doctor is no less confused. ¡°My Lord?¡± Velkor simply gestures vaguely to his head in response. And the doctor nods in understanding. ¡°A temporary fix, but feasible.¡± He gauges, after a brief moment of mental calculation. ¡°How far back do you want it to be?¡± Velkor stops his pacing, pivoting to look the man square in the eye, jaw set. ¡°Blank slate.¡± Chapter 1 Alex peers at the wide little eyes staring back at her. A classroom filled with silent 7-8 year old Children, each face sporting progressively different looks of horror. She thinks she hears one child whimper in what is most certainly abject fear, and is starting to regret making an appearance. A child at the back of the class raises their hand¨Cthe universal sign for a question. One of the select few, who have managed to recover their wits. ¡°Yes?¡± The child involuntarily whimpers¨C¡±She killed them?¡± Alex frowns. ¡°Yes, I said that.¡± ¡°But couldn''t they just talk about it?¡± he asks, fists clenched, ¡°My Mum says, talking about a problem helps a lot better than fighting.¡± The child finishes, posture taut. And Alex gets the feeling he''s a disagreement away from stomping his foot on the ground in a tantrum. ¡°Obviously she tried to talk, the brother wouldn''t listen--¡± ¡°He could have tried harder!¡± And there the stomp was, except from a different child. A tiny little thing almost a head shorter than her classmates. Alex narrows her eyes at her. ¡°You didn''t raise your hand.¡± Her hand immediately springs up, face unrelenting. And Alex would commend her determination if she didn''t absolutely loathe her age group. ¡°What is it?¡± ¡°I don''t like this story, it doesn''t have a happily ever after.¡± The girl sniffs. Alex feels her eyes twitch in poorly concealed anger, and has to remind herself that tossing the child out a window would certainly not be appreciated. She exhales. ¡°It''s a Tragedy, it''s not supposed to have a happily ever after.¡± Surely that would be easy enough to understand. A third hand shoots up as soon as the words are out her mouth. Obviously a second grade reading was a mistake. ¡°What now?¡± This child has to temporarily relieve his mouth of his thumb to speak. ¡°This story sucks.¡± Thankfully his opinion didn''t matter. ¡°It''s a current Best Seller.¡± ¡°Maybe it shouldn''t be.¡± And the first child was back again on the playing field. Alex narrows her eyes at him, about to say something about his crooked milk teeth¨C ¡°Okay children, why don''t we clap for Alex¡¯s wonderful story?¡± The teacher interrupts with impeccable foresight. Only about 3 children clap. One who for all intents and purposes was asleep up until 10 seconds ago, knowing nothing of the read. The teacher shoots Alex an apologetic smile, before addressing the children once more. ¡°Let''s all turn to page 4 in our coloring books, and color the very nice dinosaur.¡± Alex promptly exits the class, the teacher hot on her tail. ¡°I am so sorry about all that.¡± She pants, rushing to catch up with her. Alex decides to spare her and instead stops, the colorful hallway utterly nauseating to her. ¡°No, no it''s alright.¡± It wasn''t in fact alright, it was infuriating, but the poor woman seemed out of her depth already. ¡°Children, you learn to love ¡®em.¡± Alex forces out through grit teeth, hoping the lady doesn''t notice. The lady dips her head in an awkward nod, before angling a thumb at the classroom door behind her. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. ¡°I''m-- I''m going to go back. They can''t be by themselves for more than 12 seconds.¡± Alex nods in turn. ¡°Otherwise they tear the place up.¡± she surmises. ¡°No, actually it''s the school rules.¡± She replies deadpan. ¡°Ah.¡± ¡°Also they tear the place up.¡± And she has the audacity to chuckle satisfactorily. Alex raises an unimpressed brow, her most apathetic expression in place. ¡°Yea.¡± The lady grounds out before retreating quickly. And Alex continues her imposing stalk through the repugnant hallway and out school. She strides out of the building, cringing at a billboard of a movie poster right in front of the school. ¡®THE GOOD, THE BAD, AND THE OTHERWORLDLY¡¯ it reads. The actors on the poster sporting nonsensical looks. A bad parody of her best selling Novel. She is staring hard at the poster, willing it to suddenly go up in flames when her phone rings. She rifles through her numerous jacket pockets in search of it, dropping said best seller in the process. She finds the phone in the inner left pocket, glances at the caller ID with a wince before answering. ¡°Shit!¡± ¡°No, close though. It''s Chris.¡± The voice over the phone jibes drily. Self-depreciation. He was definitely angry. She pinches the bridge of her nose in frustration. ¡°Chris, I swear I lost track of time.¡± ¡°Yes, I figured that out when you didn''t get here 30 minutes ago, like you promised.¡± ¡°I am so sorry.¡± She bends to pick up her book. ¡°I had this reading at a school where my book ended up criticized by a bunch of 6 year olds.¡± She laments, the flash of a camera beside her causing her to startle. She turns to the direction of the flash and shoots the paparazzi her most wilting look. ¡°Do you mind?¡± She asks, and the look works yet again, because the loafer scampers away. ¡°Of course I mind, Alex, I''ve been standing here for 30 minutes!¡± Chris¡¯ voice crows from the phone. Ah. ¡°I am headed straight to you, right now, 30 minutes, max.¡± She glances at her watch while meandering through the car park. ¡°So your plan is to keep me waiting a complete hour?¡± Chris is still saying. ¡°Is this like the time¨C¡± She wedges the phone between her shoulder and ear, muffling what is sure to be a lengthy and frankly trifling tale of some random time when he felt he had been wronged. Storing her book under her armpit, she rifles through her pockets once more, this time whipping out her car keys. The muffling intensifies and she returns the phone to her ear with a sigh. ¡°Chris, I checked those bottles myself. Nobody added any water to your vintage wine collection.¡± Chris sputters. ¡°How would you know, you never tasted them!¡± he cries indignantly. ¡°I don''t need to taste them to know what vintage wine looks like.¡± ¡°I don''t care what you say, it tasted weird to me. Alex, if you''re not here in 30 minutes¨C¡± ¡°I''m standing right in front of my car, about to get in.¡± She jingles her car keys in the mouthpiece for assurance. ¡°Now, if you''d only end the call so I can drive¨C¡± ¡°That''s enough talking for now, you need to end the call so you can drive.¡± Chris interrupts. Alex shakes her head in resigned acceptance. ¡°Of course.¡± ¡°30 minutes.¡± He repeats ominously, followed by the click of the call ending. She tucks her phone back into her jacket, opening her car door to enter, before driving away.
Sometime before the Present ¡­ A girl walks down the street, hands tucked in her thick jacket in a clear bid to avoid the blistering cold. It isn''t snowing at the moment, but the thick clumps of the white substance on the street is a testament to the blizzard that was the previous evening. She stops in front of a diner¨Ceyes squinting against the neon sign strobing the diner''s name across the darkness of the night¨Cfocusing on a middle aged couple inside. The couple seem very much in love, for people their age, she thinks. She stares soppily for a couple of seconds more before walking away. Barely five steps from where she last stood, when the couple exit the cheap diner into a contrastingly expensive car and drive off, zooming right by her-- snobs. A couple of minutes later, Alex is stood on the empty street, head raised to the night sky, face angled contentedly at the moon, when all of a sudden, Police cars. One, two, three¨C an awful lot, zip by her all headed the same way. Curious, she steps into a nearby store for the news, stilling abruptly when she takes in the scene plastered on televisions nationwide. Footage of thick smoke clears to reveal a car dangling dangerously by the side of a bridge. Firemen struggling to put out the fire beside a nearly ablaze tanker. The thing having slammed into the side of the bridge, in a bid to regain traction after ramming into the sleek car. A familiar look flashes across her face on revelation of the car. The couple from the restaurant. ¡°... The passengers have been identified as Tech Billionaire Chris Jordan and his wife Lilian¡­¡± the Newscaster drones monotonously, and Alex contemplates. She has an internal conflict with herself for a solid minute, before deciding to step out of the store, and head the other way. Halting abruptly mid-walk, she digs the heels of her palm into her eyes, and exhales with a loud groan. ¡°What are you doing Alex?¡± She questions herself, almost waiting for an answer before deciding against it. Best to do this before she started to weigh the pros and cons. She sighs heavily before breaking into a run, towards the accident scene. Chapter 2 ¡°I want it done again.¡± A voice booms, reverberating across the near empty room. A timid Professor quakes in his boot, his rumpled lab coat clutched tight against him, like an armor against the verbal gunfire. ¡°Sir, I strongly advise against that, we are down to our last F-15.¡± He adjusts his glasses, pushing it deeper against the ridge of his nose, psyching himself up to proceed. ¡°I don''t know where the hell that thing came from, but I can assure you, it was never meant to be merged with human technology.¡± By some miracle, the General only spares him an indifferent glance, before repeating¨C ¡°Again.¡± ¡°That thing has blown up every last piece of technology it came in contact with.¡± The Professor erupts, ¡°I have tried my very best¨C¡± He is cut short by The General seizing him by the collar of his lab coat, his legs very nearly lifting off the ground. ¡°You''re not being paid to try. You''re being paid to give us results.¡± The General grounds out low, directly into his ear. ¡°And we have been here for 6 months, yet we still haven''t gotten any.¡± The Professor struggles against the General¡¯s grip. ¡°I-- I''m trying¨C¡± ¡°My patience constantly wears thin as the seconds go by, Professor. And when I''m all out of patience, I am a very ugly man.¡± He huffs out, eyes dilating in pure, unrefined anger. A sergeant approaches the general warily, sheet of paper in hand. She sounds unsure even as she salutes. ¡°Sir.¡± The General inhales and exhales, crazed look abating from his eyes as soon as he blinks his eyes open. He begrudgingly puts down the shaking Professor, making an effort to straighten the rumpled fabric of the man¡¯s lab coat before turning to the sergeant. ¡°At ease.¡± The sergeant visibly relaxes. ¡°The reports you asked for, sir.¡± She hands the General the sheet, who accepts it with some leftover venom. ¡°Update?¡± ¡°It took some extra digging sir, but it was a perfect match.¡± She relays excitedly. The General grunts. ¡°I wish I could be surprised.¡± ¡°We''ve acquired the item you requested. It''s en route as we speak.¡± She adds. ¡°Would you look at that?¡± The man drawls with a pointed look at the Professor. ¡°It''s good news all round.¡± The Professor cranes his neck to get a better view of the sheet in the General''s grasp, eyes first widening before narrowing in skepticism. ¡°That''s impossible.¡± He declares, eyes still fixed on the paper. ¡°I know it''s been a while since first year Biology, but this is¨C¡± ¡°Turns out nothing is actually impossible, Professor.¡± He places his hand on the Professor''s shoulder. ¡°On that note, I look forward to nothing from you but good news this time.¡± He squeezes the shoulder, indicating his thinly-veiled threat, before leaving abruptly. The General makes an immature face at the General¡¯s retreating back, before belatedly remembering the sergeant beside him. He clears his throat. ¡°Where exactly was this asset spotted?¡± ¡°Surprising enough, at a coffee shop, in California.¡± She shoots him a knowing smile, before taking her leave as well.
Alex screeches to a halt beside Chris, doubled over and panting for breath. She inhales deeply one last time before straightening to catch the look he is giving her. Perfunctory and astute. She in turn observes the bags under his eyes, the goatee he has refused to shave off despite her incessant prodding. Mid-life crisis, Akio had called it. Except Chris was in fact not in his midlife, and was instead a 65 year old man. ¡°It''s 3:32.¡± he says nonchalantly, after a surreptitious glance at his watch. Alex drops the wheezing and panting act. Shoulders straightening in the acceptance of being caught. ¡°I know.¡± ¡°You were supposed to get here at 3:20, that was 12 minutes ago.¡± Chris scolds lightly. She produces an almost crumpled bunch of flowers from somewhere, offering it to Chris in penance. ¡°I had to stop for flowers. And park the car.¡± He raises a brow at the flowers. ¡°Why are you breathing like you ran a marathon?¡± ¡°Because you threatened me, Chris.¡± He turns away from her, still not accepting the flowers. ¡°It''s not my fault your cardio''s shit.¡± ¡°You''re gonna cuss in front of Lilian?¡± Alex huffs out, gesturing with the flowers to the tombstone they are stood in front off. LILIAN JORDAN. WIFE, MOTHER, FRIEND. The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. Alex lays the flowers on it. ¡°She would make an exception if she were here.¡± Alex cracks a smile, a secret thing. ¡°You okay?¡± She asks, eyes still on the tombstone in front. ¡°I''m fine.¡± He doesn¡¯t sound as convincing as he thinks he does. And Alex scrutinizes him for a moment, not buying his bullshit. ¡°Want a hug?¡± She says finally, and he scoffs. ¡°If you want a hug Alex, all you gotta do is ask.¡± Alex nods, interpreting the words only she knows how. ¡°I''d like one then.¡± They embrace, a lone tear Alex pretends not to see slipping down Chris'' eye.
Sometime before the Present ¡­ Alex walks into the kitchen¨Cheadphones over her ears¨Cto find Lilian rummaging through the cabinets. She rips the contraption off her ear and rushes to her side, sensing the impending doom. ¡°What are you doing?¡± She puffs after snatching a pot that would have smacked Lilian square in the head away, mid-fall. ¡°Pots. I can''t find the pots.¡± Lilian grumbles sweetly. And Alex eyes the lone one in her grasp, before informing her. ¡°Bottom left cupboard.¡± Lilian reaches for the cupboard, eyes lighting up at the substantial amount of her quarry. ¡°Oh. You are a lifesaver Alexandria.¡± ¡°Mm-hm.¡± Alex intones. ¡°What exactly do you need them for?¡± ¡°For the dinner I''m making.¡± Lilian answers, proceding to fill the large pot she retrieved with a considerable amount of water. Alex tenses. Lilian cooking was a bad idea. Zero stars, did not recommend. Your small and large intestines would appreciate the omission. ¡°Um, Gideon makes dinner. She emphasizes. Strongly. ¡°Where''s Gideon?¡± her head whips to and fro, as if Gideon were a frightened animal hiding in the cupboards. ¡°Gideon called in sick, so we have to make do with the next best thing. Me.¡± Lilian lugs the half-full pot of water to the stove, and Alex winces at the mere thought of whatever would brew in it. How did one put this lightly? ¡°Yea but, you can''t cook.¡± ¡°I know. That''s why I have the YouTube on my phone over there, telling me what to do.¡± She waves a ladle at her phone, buried under a small mountain of spoons, and Alex seizes. ¡°Okay¡± she plucks the ladle from Lilians grasp, and turn the stove off. ¡°Perhaps I should cook dinner. It¡¯s been a while anyway.¡± ¡°Do you know how?¡± Lilian asks, eyes wide. ¡°Um, Fran?ois Massialot and I once served a spread Philippe I, Duke of Orl¨¦ans couldn''t resist.¡± Alex boasts, rolling up her sleeves ostentatiously. Beat. ¡°I don''t know what that means.¡± Lilian says. ¡°Yea, you wouldn''t.¡± She chuckles. ¡°Is there anything you don''t know?¡± ¡°Actually.¡± Alex peeks her head out of the fridge to consider. ¡°Emojis.¡± Lilian¡¯s chuckles mutate into a full belly laughter. ¡°Do you need any help?¡± ¡°No, I think I''ll be fine.¡± Alex replies, dropping an armful of vegetables straight from the fridge into the kitchen sink. ¡°I''ll leave you to it then.¡± Lilian turns to leave. ¡°Do yell if you need any stew advice or anything at all.¡± ¡°I promise.¡± Alex says, turning to the spoon landmark and remembering in the nick of time. ¡°Lilian? Don¡¯t forget ¡®the YouTube¡¯.¡±
Chris and Alex are still standing in a tight embrace, when Chris notices the General stood under the shade of an oak tree, from the corner of his eye. He is in stood in parade rest, glint in his eye and a squeamish man by his side. Chris breaks the hug. ¡°What?¡± Alex asks, noting the discomfort in his eyes. ¡°We''ve got company.¡± He inclines his head at the men under the tree. Alex turns to look. She squints. ¡°I didn''t know you invited friends.¡± ¡°I didn''t. Stay here.¡± He instructs. ¡°I''m not a child, Chris.¡± ¡°Alex.¡± Chris looks peeved. ¡°Please, just give me a minute.¡± ¡°That''s 60 seconds, and I''m counting!¡± She yells at his retreating figure. As Chris walks toward the unwanted guests, he recognizes the squeamish man as a Professor the army poached from his prospective hires a couple of years ago. He¡¯d been impressed by the young man¡¯s theses and overachieving accomplishments, hardly getting a chance to meet him before he was whisked away by the army. The man is clutching a very pretentious bouquet of flowers in hand, colors and arrangement exceptionally wrong for the occasion. He stops right in front of them, hands tucked into the pockets of his black pants. ¡°Let me see if I understand this.¡± He starts. ¡°You followed me to the damn cemetery?¡± The General shrugs in what Chris suspects is poorly hidden elation. ¡°You are a hard man to reach.¡± ¡°What is it you want?¡± Chris asks sternly. ¡°You know what we want.¡± The General replies, and Chris frowns. ¡°I told you, I''m retired. Not that I''d help you even if I wasn''t. But, sadly, I am.¡± The General hums inattentively, eyes trained on Alex in the far distance. ¡°You know, your children seem to be talented in some of the most extraordinary ways.¡± his voice takes on a wistful tone, and Chris¡¯ jaw tightens. The man immediately turning to leave. ¡°I think we''re done here.¡± ¡°That''s a shame. And here I was hoping we''d have a civil discussion. ¡° The General interrupts, his smug tone halting Chris¡¯ strut. He nods at the Professor, who pulls out a sheet of paper from his briefcase and hands it to Chris. ¡°What is this?¡± ¡°Something you definitely need to look at. ¡° Chris narrows his eyes at them, before begrudgingly accepting the paper. Patting his pockets unsuccessfully for his reading glasses, he resolves to snatch the one off the Professor''s face. He squeaks. ¡°That''s mine ... okay.¡± Chris skims through the paper for a bit, plastering on a bitter smile before taking the glasses off. ¡°Really now?¡± ¡°You know, I had hoped it wouldn''t come to this. But we really need your help.¡± The General says, faux sincerity dripping from his lips. ¡°So what, blackmail as a last resort?¡± Chris sneers ¡°This is happening one way or another Mr Jordan. Personally, I''d suggest you choose the path of least resistance.¡± The man turns once again to Alex at the far end of the field Chris grimaces at the silent but blatant threat. One last menacing look at the heinous man before him, he turns to leave-- ¡°We''ll see you bright and early Monday morning.¡± The General calls to Chris¡¯ retreating figure. ¡°Uh, My ... glasses.¡± The smaller man stammers, wincing as Chris tosses both the letter and his spectacles in the trashcan nearby. ¡°It''s alright I have a spare.¡° A black SUV with tinted windows rolls in front of them, The General practically manhandling the Professor into the car. Before entering himself with a self-satisfied smirk. The car drives off, Chris stalling for a while, before walking back to join Alex. ¡°That was a whole lot more than 60 seconds.¡± She scrutinizes him as he approaches, clocking the general silence and furrowed brows. ¡°Are you alright?¡± She cranes her neck at where he last was. ¡°Where are your friends?¡± ¡°I''m alright. They couldn''t stay.¡± Chris says, shaking off his despondent demeanor. ¡°By the way, I''m going to need a lift home.¡± Alex scrunches her nose in disapproval. ¡°Where''s your car?¡± She looks about the place for the second time in two minutes, and her eyebrows furrow. ¡°How the hell did you even get here?¡± Chris purses his lips, never one to turn down an opportunity to mystify Alex. ¡°You know, now that I think about it, I have no idea.¡± He turns on his heels, heading towards Alex¡¯s car, Alex trailing behind him, a fed up look on her face. Chapter 3 Sometime before the present ¡­ Alex resists the urge to bang her head repeatedly on the wall beside her. It was difficult to resist, but credit to her willpower she somehow did. When she was told the Dean had sent for her, she would have never predicted Chris Jordan¨Cthe guy from the accident on the bridge¨Cand his lovely wife summoning her, legs crossed comfortably in the traitorous Dean¡¯s office. She tilts her head to the side in consideration, the other occupants in the room observing her like some important experiment. Oxford was nice this time of year, and since her ¡®family¡¯ had had a long standing relationship with the institution for centuries, getting in to finish this particular course would hardly be a problem. ¡°Alex?¡± The Dean''s voice pierces through her subconscious, the furrow in his brow informing her he most likely had been trying to get her attention for a while now. ¡°Yes?¡± She answers and he sighs in relief. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± He apologizes to the couple seated in front of him, ¡°She has her quirks, but is really brilliant.¡± he laughs sheepishly. Alex raises a brow at the particularly offending statement. The laughter dies in his throat. ¡°Have a seat.¡± He gestures to the spare chair besides the lady. Yea, there was absolutely no way. ¡°I''m good, thank you.¡± She crosses her arms behind her, and inclines her head at the Dean. Go on. ¡°Very well.¡± the man adjusts in his seat. ¡°This is Chris and Lilian Jordan.¡± he addresses her. ¡°I know, we''ve met.¡± He nods. ¡°At the Excursion, so I heard.¡± ¡°Mm-hm.¡± A beat, where the Dean glances at the couple Alex is so very clearly trying to ignore, then back to her. ¡°Anyway, they''re here now to see you.¡± ¡°What for?¡± She asks, her treatment of such important people visibly bothering the Dean. Chris sits up straight. ¡°We''d like to offer you a scholarship¨C¡± ¡°Don''t need one.¡± She interrupts, eyes not leaving its gaze on the spreading bald spot on the Dean¡¯s head. The fragility of human hair. ¡°Uh. Really?¡± Chris stutters. She eyes him from her peripheral, noting his discomfort at being interrupted. ¡°Mm-hm. I''m coping just fine with the fees.¡± She cranes her head as if reading off some invisible projection¨C ¡°I''m living off a small fortune that I inherited ... from my grandparents.¡± she says finally. It had been a while since she''d had to explain the source of her income. The man¡¯s wife Lily? Lilian surveys her dubiously. ¡°And your parents?¡± She asks. Alex turns to meet her gaze. ¡°I don''t have any.¡± That part was true. ¡°So you''re an orphan?¡± Her husband pipes in, and both the Dean and his wife looked scandalized at the brusqueness of the statement. Point to him, Alex loved directness. ¡°Chris!¡± Lilian scolds. Alex simply nods in agreement, pausing a moment to rectify; ¡°A rich orphan. Like Batman.¡± The Dean and Lilian stare at her in incredulity, while Chris looks mostly fascinated. Alex smiles. ¡°Could you give us a couple of minutes with her?¡± Lilian recovers first. ¡°Of course, ma''am.¡± The Dean says, shaking the cotton out of his head, before he exits gracefully. Closing the door behind him. ¡°Alexandra, Alexis? Which is it?¡± Alex whips around to face the woman, eyes having been glued to the door. She had been fantasizing stepping out alongside the Dean, this awkward and unimportant conversation far behind her. ¡°Alex is fine.¡± ¡°I noticed no one said your last name?¡± Lilian continues, and wasn¡¯t she an insistent one? She sighs. ¡°It''s just Alex.¡± Lilians rears back in alarm. ¡°Just Alex?¡± Alex raises a hand to her chest in exaggerated hurt. What century was the woman from? ¡°Beyonce; Madonna, Shakira; Cher; Bono; Rihanna;¡± She lists, and Lilian relaxes in understanding. Jokes on her because Alex was just getting started. ¡°Sting; Prince; Oprah; Confucious; Aristotle; Plato; Socrates¨C¡± ¡°We get it!¡± Chris says. ¡°Drake; Coolio; Common. I''m sorry, I have it all memorized. Fergie.¡± She exhales, ¡°It''s alright, Fergie''s the last one.¡± Her eyes scour the couple for a moment, jaw working in thought. Digression aside, this people had summoned her for a reason. The sooner they addressed the reason, the sooner she got to leave. ¡°Listen, If this is about your Nuclear accelerator¨C¡± she starts. ¡°We''re trying to thank you, asswipe.¡± Chris interrupts eloquently. He turns to his wife who already has her mouth open, poised to reprimand and continues. ¡°Ah. I said ''wipe''.¡± he finishes, and the she closes her mouth with a click. Alex is taken aback. ¡°Thank me?¡± ¡°For saving our lives. That night on the bridge?¡± Lilian fields the question. They remembered, Alex panics internally. Oxford it was then. She had a lovely little chateau in Birmingham that could regain its magnificence after a little dusting. A car to transport her to and back from school would be small change. She winces. You knew things were so very very bad, when England was starting to sound like a holiday spot. At least her accent wouldn¡¯t stand out there, she thinks optimistically. ¡°I''m afraid I don''t know what you''re talking about.¡± she fields weakly. This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. ¡°Okay, cut the crap. We obviously didn''t tell anybody.¡± That was Chris. She relents. ¡°So you''re not here because I outsmarted your engineers?¡± ¡°Not at all, some of them probably needed to retire anyway.¡± He replies, facing scrunching in a frown as he considers the thought. Tsking. ¡°I see.¡± Chris hums before standing, his wife doing the same. ¡°We¡¯ll be on our way then. Since you don''t need that scholarship.¡± He offers Alex a handshake, Alex eyeing the hand instead of taking it. Chris retracts his hand with a small shrug. Lilian fidgets a bit, like she couldn¡¯t bear to be parted from her. Lurching for Alex, who almost doesn¡¯t successfully fend off what was going to be a hug. ¡°You¡¯ll be alright?¡± Chris scoffs. ¡°Lilian, she just said she has a fortune, of course she''ll be alright.¡± He turns to Alex, eyes glimmering in the light. ¡°Certifiable, but overall alright.¡±
Alex shoves through a small gathering of pedestrians smack at the center of the walkway. Her terrible disguise of a baseball hat fumbling briefly but not displacing. Why on earth she didn''t drive, she fails to remember, her annoyance increasing every time she bumps into someone, most people too engrossed in one thing or the other to even apologize for the fact. As if this bit of discomfort isn''t enough, her phone buzzes. She groans, decently stepping out of the way to retrieve her phone, hand cupped over it in an attempt to view the screen. ¡°Alex!¡± A familiar voice hisses in her ear, causing her to yelp unacceptably. ¡°Jesus! Henry, you scared the shit out of me. I could have hit you!¡± She scowls, more annoyed at the fact that he had been able to get the drop on her. She angles an unamused brow at the laughing idiot who seems to be blissfully unaware of her irritation at the moment. ¡°What are you doing standing here anyway?¡± he asks, red-dyed hair glistening in the sun. Alex returns to deciphering the cause of the buzzing on her phone. ¡°Why, do you own the walkway?¡± ¡°Technically yes, seeing as you''re in front of my Caf¨¦.¡± He replies glibly. A quick glance at the building beside her confirms his claim. Her scowl deepens. ¡°Walking home, Henry, Same route as always.¡± ¡°Wanna come in for coffee? It''s on the house.¡± he asks. ¡°Henry--¡± ¡°It''s not like the last time where the excuse was ''going out''. The Caf¨¦ is right here.¡± he gestures at the building beside them, arms outstretched in presentation like a car salesman. She glances at the quaint little shop beside them longingly, it was right there. ¡°I would love to, It''s just ... I don''t drink coffee.¡± Henry arches a brow. ¡°Really?¡± ¡°I swear, I don''t.¡± She honestly didn''t, the beans tasted terrible to her. ¡°We could have something else then?¡± He tries again, constantly moving in front of her to block her retreat. She slips out from beside him, the urge to flee the crowded walkway fueling her drive. ¡°Some other time maybe.¡± She shoots over her shoulder, feet pacing away from Henry and his coffeeness. The quickening of steps echo from behind, and suddenly Henry is sliding right into step beside her. She sighs. ¡°I don''t get you, you know.¡± Henry huffs. ¡°Your Dad, him I understand. He''s funny, and he adores me.¡± Alex can''t help but be amused. ¡°So you don''t get me because I don''t adore you?¡± She asks. ¡°Exactly! I am adorable.¡± He punctuates this with what he thinks is an adorable smile, eyelashes batting while his hands frame his face. ¡°I mean, what''s not to adore?¡± Alex stops to consider him. He was attractive, she thought reluctantly. Pity that motormouth was attached to him. ¡°You''re not adorable enough to make me have coffee with you.¡± Henry''s pose collapses. ¡°You are so mean, you know that?¡± ¡°Really?¡± She asks, voice unnecessarily high pitched. ¡°Because I think I''m adorable!¡± She finishes mockingly. She shoots him a wink, before starting on her way. Henry thankfully staying behind this time. ¡°I don''t think I''m adorable.¡± He yells after her. ¡°I know!¡±
The front door clicks into place after Alex enters, tossing her keys somewhere, and slumping on the couch. ¡°Chris! You there?¡± She calls out to the murmuring coming from somewhere in the kitchen. She angles her head to confirm Chris is indeed alive, tearing through the kitchen in a rampage she was too tired to investigate at the moment. Satisfied at his well-being, she instead reaches for the TV remote, settling on a random episode of Bones. Chris emerges noisily from the kitchen, a messy trail of things that should most definitely not be in the kitchen behind him. He tosses a couple of probably important books from the bookshelf by the wall, eyes darting in between nooks. ¡°Keys. Alex, please tell me you''ve seen them?¡± He shoves his hand in a hole in the bookshelf, frowning when all he returns with are cobwebs. ¡°I literally just came in the door.¡± She answers, eyes glued to the TV screen. ¡°Well, did you see them before you left?¡± Chris returns, patience rapidly growing thin. How the hell was this her fault? ¡°No Chris, I didn''t see any keys. I don''t even know what keys we''re talking about.¡± ¡°House, Car. The keys to my Medicine cabinet while we''re at it.¡± He shuffles from the shelf to the chairs, trampling on a couple of first editions discarded uselessly on the floor. Alex winces. ¡°I''ve missed the blood pressure pills two days in a row now, and the adult thing, would be to check where I stand.¡± He continues searching frantically, overturning throw pillows and displacing chairs cushions. ¡°What do you need your car keys for anyway?¡± She takes him in properly, noticing belatedly, that he was a tad overdressed for couch lazing. The betrayer. ¡°Why are you dressed like that?¡± ¡±Uh. It''s-- uh, Bachelor Party.¡° He responds quickly, not even trying. ¡°It''s 11am.¡± she humors him, ¡°Let''s try that again.¡± With a resigned sigh he continues in his path of disruption. ¡°Fine. I''m going to the office.¡± Alex pops up, face set to scolding mode. ¡°No! Chris, you are retired!¡± She scolds, and Akio would be so proud. ¡°There was a whole party and everything! Not to forget, you made me move back in here so you wouldn''t feel lonely--¡± ¡°In this big ass house?¡± He finishes for her, not missing a step. ¡°--in this big ass-- Yes, exactly!¡± ¡°I remember, but this, this is very important. And I can''t stress the ''very'' in that sentence enough.¡± he clasps his hands together to emphasize. ¡°Damian''s at the office, he can do whatever it is for you.¡± ¡°Him? Please. He''s an incompetent ass kisser.¡± Chris shoots and goes back to stomping about, Alex briefly wonders who would clean up after him. ¡°He has a Master''s Degree in Mechanical Engineering.¡± she replies drily. He was an asskisser, but he was an intelligent one. Both things could be true. ¡°And you have several PhDs in a lot of things.¡± Alex rolls her eyes at Chris¡¯ favorite rant, tried, tested and true. She could subconsciously mouth some of the lines even. ¡°Yet here you are fascinated by a¨C¡± he glares at the TV for a moment, ¡°--Rom-Com tv show involving mostly dead people. That man dies by the way.¡± He finishes with a gesture to the man on screen. Alex makes a pained noise. ¡°Why? I hadn''t seen this episode yet.¡± She cries, resignedly turning off the TV. ¡°This is Bones. Everyone new is either dead or about to die.¡± She lifts off the chair in determination. ¡°You know what, I''m suddenly inclined to help you find your keys and send you on your way.¡± ¡°Alex, come on.¡± He switches to soft coaxing, Step 2 in the battleplan ¡®Get Alex to run the company.¡¯ Truly Alex should have numerous awards for the number of times she''s had to put up with¨Csometimes even fend off¨Cthis particular subject. ¡°¨CYou could be running the Company.¡± she pops back into real time to hear him finish. ¡°Well like you Chris, I am retired. Unlike you however, I''m choosing to stay retired. Nothing for me, but food, and spoiler free episodes of Bones reruns.¡± She returns to her position on the couch, search party temporarily forgotten. Chris sighs. Plan failing once again. ¡°Good for you. Me, I''m going to the office. The fear of decomposing into a fossil, looming over my head.¡± he proclaims dramatically, arms flailing over his head. ¡°Alex I need my fucking keys!¡± Speaking of. ¡°Did you check your jacket pocket?¡± He ruffles through each of his jacket pockets in turn, his grumbling unabated. ¡°Of course I checked my jacket pocket. What do you think I--¡± He freezes at a pocket, the jingling causing Alex to narrow her eyes at him. Sure enough, there they were. ¡°Never mind love, I found them.¡± This elicits a snort from Alex. ¡°I swear, sometimes you give me severe whiplash.¡± ¡°I''m taking that as a compliment.¡° He counters, kicking at a throw pillow he had tossed earlier. ¡°Why not let Ezra take you to work? I mean you pay the man, let him work.¡± ¡°No, thank you. I''d like to enjoy my knees now, before the arthritis gets there.¡± He kisses the top of her head before heading for the door, Alex rumpling her nose and calling after him. ¡°By the way you swore! So you get to do the dishes tonight!¡± ¡°I''ll just bribe Ezra into doing them for me!¡± Chris yells back, the front door clicking shut afterwards. Chapter 4 Chris walks in the front door, sighing loudly at the sight of the General waiting for him. ¡°I thought I''d do the honors of showing you around myself.¡± The scumbag quips, and Chris does a quick run through of things he might have done to deserve his current situation. He comes up blank. ¡°What more could anyone possibly ask for on their first day?¡± Chris laces the sentence with every ounce of sarcasm in him. He might not be as imposing as the man before him, but he still had his tongue. With a smile too wide to be real, the General ushers him through a pristine white walkway, clinical and bland. The sort of decor you imagine would be present at an organ harvesting hospital. ¡°I''m sure you have questions.¡± The General starts, shoulders angled resolutely in his march forward. Not even turning to look back at him when he stumbles. Prick. ¡°Lots.¡± He replies, leaning on the wall to investigate the sole of his shoe. ¡°The most important being, why the inside of a Plastic Manufacturing Plant looks like where you''d go to get a cocaine fix.¡± He finishes, following after the General once he¡¯s satisfied with the state of his shoes. ¡°Former Plastic Manufacturing Plant.¡± The General corrects amusedly. ¡°It''s been repurposed for military use now. Biochemical enhancements, Endurance room, Gym--¡± Chris holds up a hand to the General''s face, cutting him abruptly short. ¡°Please tell me you did not drag me all the way out here, to watch some hot youngsters bench press themselves?¡± The General cracks a sliver of a smile at this, before quickly recollecting himself. ¡°No. We brought you in for this.¡± He opens a side door camouflaged neatly to look like part of the wall, and they step into a room painted blue. A closer scrutiny of the room reveals the blue isn¡¯t paint, but actually the reflection from a light so bright, it was near impossible to see. A Lab Coat hands them a pair of dark glasses as soon as they fully step into the room. With the glasses on, Chris could actually see better. He could see the glass wall, the glowing watermelon¨CJesus H Christ¨Con the other side of said wall, and he could make out the technicians in full body suits, poking and prodding at the ethereal thing. Some idiot was even armed with a laser, unsuccessfully trying to cut into the watermelon. ¡°We''ve tried everything.¡± The annoying boom of the General''s voice echoes from beside him. ¡°From High powered lasers, to your run-of-the-mill chainsaw, thing doesn''t budge. That''s when we decided to seek your expert opinion.¡± Chris turns slowly to size the General. 6 ft 5, suitably muscular and well-fitted in his imperiously starched army regalia. There was the issue of his Ape-like face though, but that was some other woman¡¯s problem¨Cor man, he didn¡¯t judge. However for someone this impressive looking. The man was rather dumb. And it would be a shame on Chris¡¯ own head if he didn''t inform him of it as rudely as was humanly possible. ¡°You''re all fucking idiots.¡± God he was starting to sound like Alex. However warranted in this situation. His sentence has the intended effect, as the General sputters for a couple of seconds before finding his words. ¡°I--Excuse-- What?¡± This reaction alone brings some much needed warmth to Chris'' heart. ¡°Well you asked for my expert opinion which is, everyone of you that thinks it would be a good idea to pry that thing open, is a brain-dead, uneducated, stupid--¡± ¡°We get the point.¡± ¡°Overpaid idiot.¡° Chris exhales as he finishes his tirade. Prompting the General¡¯s scowl to deepen. ¡°Get everyone out of there now, at least while we still have the skin on our bones.¡± Chris spits, before leaving the room, the perplexed General still in it. The hall is filled to capacity by Labcoats and Military Personnel¨Cthe largest gathering of vapidness in this lifetime, Chris had said¨Call stood in military line. Chris sizes the staff up tepidly, face sporting the most acute morale-killing glare on this side of the hemisphere. He paces the length of the gathering slowly, mirroring the gait of the warden of a correctional facility. Stopping once in a while to angle the dangerous glare at whatever unlucky soul he found himself in front of at the time. ¡°Whose absolute brilliant idea was it to dissect an unknown piece of Extraterrestrial technology?¡± he finally says after the latest round of his cursory glare. At the word ''Extraterrestrial'' people start mumbling amongst themselves. Some trying and failing to shift away stealthily. ¡°Oh, you didn''t know it was Alien?¡± Chris turns to him. ¡±Personally, I thought the viscous glowing thing in the translucent watermelon-looking thing was red Flag enough.¡± The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. Chris was enjoying the hell out of this moment, the General thinks, and had every intention of milking it to the max. Hopefully he wouldn''t tear into them too terribly. A protesting staff was much more difficult to direct. ¡°Now what''s even worse is,¡± Chris continues, ¡°none of you knew what the hell it was, yet the smartest person amongst yourselves, still went along with cutting it open.¡± He turns to the General once more. ¡°You know Glenn, I am learning a lot about the kind of people the military recruits.¡± Who the fuck was Glenn? ¡°These guys wouldn''t even make Desk Clerk at my company. Yet here they are working on a super secret, confidential, doesn''t exist, hush-hush military project.¡± Chris finishes, confusingly affronted. The General frowns, thankfully catching his hand midway from stupidly scratching his head in uncertainty. He notices Chris preen at the aborted reaction and seethes. ¡°Someone get me the test results from whatever scans you were smart enough to run on the thing first. The rest of you take 5, and crack open a Physics textbook while you''re at it. Who knows, your career may depend on it.¡± Chris struts out the room, leaving him following closely behind. The man growls low in wounded pride, not used to following after someone else. Chris was intelligent and this was his field of study, he assured himself. There was nothing he could do but make sure everything the man needed was readily available, only then could he return to his rightful spot as antagonist. This however, didn''t mean he had to like his present situation. ¡°Those were some of the best Professors and Physicists in the state, you just mouthed off to.¡± he says. He sees Chris roll his eyes, and has to stuff down another immature growl. ¡°Really? Now I''m absolutely certain you didn''t look hard enough.¡± Chris replies¨Csentence blissfully devoid of sarcasm¨Cbefore stopping. ¡±The crystal, you obviously knew it was extraterrestrial. Where did it come from?¡± he asks. ¡°At first we suspected Alex.¡± The General says. ¡°Alex was here long before you found this thing.¡± Chris defends. ¡°Agreed.¡± He says. He had inherited the project from someone who inherited it from his father, who in turn inherited it from his grandfather. It was basically a family project. According to test results, Alex had been around much much longer than the discovery of the pod that had housed the giant crystal. Speaking of the pod. ¡°In 1914, something was transported over from an excavated site in Albania. Some poor guy was digging a well in his backyard when he found it. A spaceship.¡± he informs Chris, whose eyes widen in disbelief. ¡°A spaceship? What is this Comic Con?¡± Chris scoffs. He leads Chris into a small room in the narrow hallway. A room filled with discarded jeeps, high-end aircraft remains, countless other automobiles and jets, and¨Cpropped on something of a pedestal¨Ca futuristic double seater pod, barely big enough to house two grown men. The people who would have landed with it would have to have been children at the time. ¡°We brought it down here, tried to utilize it. As you can see, we weren''t all too successful.¡± The General finishes, gesturing to the detritus around them. Chris walks into the room, stopping in front of the pod. His hand grips his jaw in awe. ¡°Holy fucking shit.¡± He ushers Chris out the room and closes the door. Locks audibly sliding into place. It would take 10 tankers to tear the door down, should he lose his eyes, or fingerprints. ¡°I believe in your ability to fix this.¡± He grabs Chris'' shoulder. ¡°Everything you need, you''ll get. A sign of goodwill from us to you. I simply hope you in turn have enough motivation to deliver positive results.¡± he says, his voice taking on a threatening edge. To his displeasure, the sentence makes Chris laugh, shrugging the General''s hand off his shoulder. ¡°Are you threatening me, Glenn?¡± He asks, wiping an invisible tear from his eye. ¡°Because I''m not making any promises. I''ll do what I can, especially given the people I have to work with.¡± There was that name again. ¡°Who is Glenn?¡± ¡°I''ll be in my office.¡± The pompous man announces nonchalantly, walks down the hallway. He stops to open a random door, eyes lighting up in excitement. ¡°An office.¡± He corrects, before stepping into the room to gawk. ¡°Ooh! I like this room.¡± his muffled voice echoes through the hallway. The General frowns in thought. Chris was fun and unpredictable. Two qualities that had no business being in this operation. He''d have to find a steeper incentive if he was going to keep Chris in line.
Macedonia, 332BC ¡­ A space pod crashes, landing just two yards away from a group of mounted soldiers. As the dust clears, the door to the pod slides open with a woosh, compressed air visibly escaping. A child, looking no more than ten years old emerges from the pod, their back facing the soldiers. The child turns around to face the group, revealing herself to be the strangest little girl they ever saw. A tiny diamond embedded above her right eyebrow, blood dripping from where its counterpart should rest on the left. The men have never seen clothes like hers before, a point proven by their slacked jaws and stares of disbelief. Frozen in fear, the child in turn stares back at them wordlessly. The leader of the troop recovers before his comrades, gesturing to them to wake them from their disbelief. "Bring her to me." he commands. And if he is scared, his voice doesn''t give it away. The soldiers hesitate for a moment, two of them reluctantly dismounting their horses to start towards the child. As soon as the soldiers'' feet hit the ground, the girl flinches. Every soldier''s spear and sword suddenly hurled toward both men, impaling them. The other soldiers murmur amongst themselves even more terrified, and back away on their horses. Interesting, the leader thinks. He had court wizards that attended to his every whim. And even they had never displayed such raw and untamed power. If he had stumbled across a young god, he was going to make the most of it. There were wars to be won after all, and with the right tutelage, the skilled child before him could be a force to be reckoned with. He raises his hand in a gesture of calm, dismounting slowly and taking a few tentative steps toward the child, stopping a few feet away. He peers at her curiously. "How ... interesting." he murmurs, eyes trained on the gem on her brow. He stretches his hand out to touch the child, stopping when two swords hover warily out of his dead comrades, vibrating with a low humming buzz. The Leader quickly retracts his hand. "I''m not going to hurt you, child. See?" He raises his hands in surrender, assuring her he is unarmed. "May I come closer?" The Child nods gently and the swords clatter to the ground. The leader moves closer, squatting right in front of the child. "My name is Alexander. Alexander the third of Macedonia, what is yours?¡± Chapter 5 Texas, 1953 ¡­ Some popular 50s country song blasts through the radio in a 50s diner. The occupants of said diner painfully but deliberately undiversified. A waiter, who looks to be in his 30s is dutifully polishing the counter top, customers chatting idly in the background. The bell at the top of the door rings, signifying a new customer. A pair of black boots enter first, its owner''s face obscured behind a tilted black cowboy hat. The action is not deliberate, seeing as the owner casually adjusts the hat, completely revealing themselves. Alex. She takes a seat at the counter, and scoops up the menu¨Cto the chagrin of the waiter¨Cpouring through it fervently, either legitimately oblivious, or pretending to ignore the ¡®what the fuck¡¯ looks on the other customers'' faces. ¡°Pie please. Pecan.¡± She decides, setting down the menu exactly as she found it. The waiter stands, maliciously eyeing Alex. Unmoving. She looks around, a bit confused. Was she missing something? ¡°Pie?¡± She asks again, trying and ultimately failing to get her point across. She turns to another customer exasperatedly. ¡°Is he deaf?¡° Other customer sizes her up, glaring at her like her entire existence was a universal mistake. ¡°You''re not supposed to be here.¡° She rears back at the statement. ¡°Excuse me?¡± ¡°We don''t serve people of your color in this establishment.¡° Waiter interjects bitterly. Oh, so Waiter wasn''t deaf. Just a bigot. She turns to him, tsking disapprovingly. ¡°You''re not deaf.¡° she accuses. The waiter points to a ''WHITES ONLY'' sign in the background, and she squints at it. Snorting before reaching into her jacket for her wallet, all this for some pie. ¡±I didn''t come to inter-marry.¡± She jibes. ¡°I just want pie.¡° Apparently the waiter has had enough. He climbs over the counter and plops over to the other side¨Cher side in 3 seconds. A commendable affair if she wasn''t hungry and in a mood that bode no nonsense. He puts his hands on her, about to heave her from her stool, when she spins him around with inhuman speed. Smack! His head thuds hard on the counter, his face purple like a grape about to pop. Her one hand on his temple and the other twisting his entire arm in a dangerous angle. A couple of customers¨CMen¨Clift up their seats, about to intervene. This was becoming a whole thing. ¡°Now why would you do that?¡± she scolds disappointedly. ¡°If you''re all out of Pie, you could have just said so.¡° She twists his already twisted arm for good measure, hoping to pass her point across. Waiter howls in pain, the volume causing the small rescue party to take a few steps back, but not completely deterred. Waiter guy grunts. ¡°We don''t want your kind here.¡° ¡°My kind?¡° The rescue party murmurs in agreement, taking emboldened steps forward. Waiter angles his head towards her, launching a slimy glob of spit that hits her on the side of her face. Her eyes narrow into deadly slits. ¡°Allow me introduce you to my kind.¡± She grits. ¡°We know enough to--¡± Waiter''s sentence is cut short by his own scream. Alex pushing her fist right through his head. Rendering what was once his skull a bloody pulp. There''s blood and bits of brains splattered on everybody, the waiter''s headless body drops to the floor with a dull thud. The customers stare in frozen horror, a female customer letting out a shrill scream before darting for the door. Alex flinches at the sound, reflexively putting a bloody hand to her ear, then cursing profusely when she realizes a chunk of Waiter guy''s head is nestled at the entrance to her ear. She brings out a white handkerchief from her pocket, quickly wiping the brains and spit from her ear, face and hands. Customer lady was sobbing now, still tugging futilely on the door. The door wasn''t going to open anytime soon, not that she''d be the one to inform the frantic woman. ¡°I am so sorry about the mess.¡± She addresses the occupants of the diner who were now suddenly content with remaining in their seats. The lady is still tugging continuously at the door, the rattling sound slowly eating at Alex¡¯s hungry patience. ¡°Does anyone here know how to make Pecan pie though?¡± she asks, and no one moves. Or says a word. Rattle-rattle. Her left eye twitches. The customers must notice, because they begin murmuring amongst themselves. Probably determining the best pie maker, she hopes. Rattle-rattle! She heaves a calming breath, eyes flicking across their faces¨Ceach one of them sporting different looks of fear¨Cand they hurriedly shake their heads. Rattle-rattle! She turns impatiently to the lady still incessant on bringing the door down. ¡°You. What is your name?¡° ¡°F-F-Freda.¡± A broken voice replies. Alex frowns. ¡°F-F-Freda?¡° The lady somehow steadies herself, now aware of how thin Alex''s patience was wearing. ¡°Freda.¡° She repeats with a wet sniff. Alex is very thankful snot had not escaped with the name. ¡°Well Freda, you look like you can make pie. Not to stereotype, but can you?¡° She glances at her watch, quickly turning back to the Lady. Freda nods gently, not trusting herself to speak. ¡°Well why didn''t you say something? Flip the sign closed and get over here.¡± Freda does immediately as she''s told. Wiping her eyes with the hem of her gown, she shakily heads behind the counter to start on the pie. The ready pie sits on the counter top, hot and steaming. Freda on one side of the counter, dried tears on her face, Alex¨Cshe had told Freda¨Con the opposite side, brandishing a spoon. This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. Freda can''t help but shrink in on herself at the suspicious look Alex is giving her, spoon cutting into fresh pie. She thankfully diverts her gaze to the bit on the spoon for a moment, before depositing it in her mouth. Her chewing is precise, palates searching and testing out every flavour. Freda had put in her best work into that pie. She takes in Alex''s face scrunched up in thought¨Cher brain working hard to keep up with her tongue; and says a little prayer. Finally Alex swallows, grave stare slowly morphing into a genuine smile. ¡°Best pie I''ve had all year.¡± She scores. And Freda lets out the breath she had been holding since the waiter lost his head. Freda packs the pie up quickly at Alex''s behest, watching her wipe the blood off her hat with the fallen waiter''s apron. She hurries through her task, making sure to maintain her efficiency, every second probably counted to someone like Alex. Packing the ready pie in a paper bag, she hands it to Alex, who collects it with a nod, a nice smile, and a generous stack of bills on the small part of the counter that isn''t covered with brains. ¡°Thank you for the pie, Freda.¡° Alex complements politely. And Freda courtesies primly in response. ¡°And thank you for your hospitality.¡± Alex turns to the other customers, addressing them without prejudice. She tips her newly polished hat in salute, frowning at a man whose head lolls to his chest. Alex places her hat atop her head with a short sigh, marching over to raise the very dead man''s head, and arrange it properly on his shoulders. Stopping to inspect the proper postures of the other still customers¨Cwho are also regrettably dead¨Cand confirming everything to be in order, she shoots Freda a smile before walking out the door, opening it like it wasn''t glued shut 3 minutes ago.
A large space ship lands in the middle of a blizzard, the ground around the flying saucer rumbling as it sets down with a heavy thud. The numerous lights adorning the machinery pierce through the heavy blizzard in the darkness of the night, giving the otherworldly contraption an even more imposing look. A mechanical whir, as a translucent ramp extends, and three men sporting steel blue gemstones on each of their brows descend, one of them holding a hand scanner. Their boots make heavy indents as they step into the snow. The more muscular of the men inhales deeply. ¡°Midgard. You can always tell by the stench of their inferiority.¡± He spits, angling his head away from the outstretched ramp, so the spittle lands in the snow. His comrade frowns at the action. ¡°On the contrary, Nod. I once met a Midgard woman many moons ago.¡± He lifts his gaze to the obscured moon above, face taking on a wistful look. ¡°She was the most elegant and kindest woman I ever met, and I have traveled a thousand stars.¡± Nod grunts at the brief tale, eyes darting about the darkness. ¡°I wonder if she still lives.¡± ¡°I doubt it.¡± The one with the scanner finally speaks. ¡°Occupants of this planet have been known to expire rather quickly.¡± He says disdainfully. Nod frowns after a moment of searching frantically¨Cwhich was basically a half-ass twirl with his eyes darting to and fro in the heavy snowstorm¨Cturns to the one with the scanner. ¡°Nelzux, there is no sign of the Crystal here.¡± ¡°No. But scans pick up residue.¡± Nod stares blankly, and Nelzux blinks the sharp retort off his tongue. ¡°At one point the crystal was here.¡± He says instead, enunciating loudly like it would make up for Nod¡¯s complete lack of knowledge. Nod frowns at the exaggerated tone. And if he had clocked the hidden insult, he couldn''t be that stupid. ¡°You didn''t have to use foreign words.¡± He complains under his breath. Nevermind, the former assessment stands. Nelzux turns to his other partner, completely checking out of all conversations Nod adjacent. ¡°Kyp. Do your thing.¡± Kyp nods in understanding, arms outstretched as if waiting for some invisible hug, before closing his eyes. His partners quickly don earbuds. A couple of seconds later, after their earbuds are in place, Kyp grunts. His arms wrapping around him for a moment before returning to their outstretched positions. A blue pulse-like ripple leaves him. His eyes glow blue, eyeballs moving rapidly as the ripple spreads around the globe. The ripple slams back into him a couple of moments after, causing him to stumble a bit. He shakes the blue glow from his eyes and turns to his partners. ¡°I found it. South.¡± Nelzux plops out his earbuds, Nod imitating him. ¡°Then we cloak the ship. Continue on foot.¡± ¡°You want us to mingle with the Tellurians?¡± Nod asks in disgust, wide eyes trained on Nelzux in query. ¡°Blend in.¡± Nelzux corrects. ¡°This way we will draw less attention, while we search for the crystal.¡± Kyp perks up. ¡°First we will need the right clothes.¡± ¡°We already have clothes.¡± Nod grunts. ¡°Midgard clothes.¡± Kyp says, vibrating in pure joy. He turns to his comrades when a silence descends upon them, cheeks blushing at the questioning looks he finds there. ¡°To blend in?¡± He adds belatedly. Nelzux narrows his eyes at him for a moment, deciding to let the excuse lie. ¡°Fine. But we cannot afford any more deviation from our mission.¡± He pushes a button on his scanner that cloaks the ship, pretending not to see the little fist pump Kyp indulges. He trods in the snow, towards where he suspects civilization might be, Kyp and Nod behind him. Glancing at his scanner every once in a while for confirmation. The three displaced men walk into a clothing store, a little bell above the door announcing their entrance. Nod takes a step in and freezes, a wild expression on his face where he looks like he wants to rip apart anything with color in the cheap boutique. ¡°Can I help you?¡± An uncertain voice asks, and three heads simultaneously whip towards the sound, apparently realizing they weren¡¯t alone in the store. A child, approximately 35 Earth cycles, Kyp calculates is staring them down, nary a look of fear in his eyes. He looks rather intrigued at their appearance if Kyp was being honest. A far cry from the reaction he had received upon his last visit to this blue stone. Nod stalks forward, stopping opposite the boy. He leans directly into him, forgoing all thoughts of personal space¨Cif he knew even what that was¨Ceyes narrowing in thought as he thoroughly scrutinizes his target. The storekeeper¡¯s eyes swell wide in astonishment, when the glowing gemstones above Nod¡¯s brows squelch in on themselves, folding neatly into his skin. Presenting an unblemished space, where they once sat. He raises back up with an air of accomplishment, shooting his comrades a smug smile before demanding¨C ¡°We seek to blend in with you humans.¡± The Storekeeper blinks in rapid successions, possibly not trusting that he wasn¡¯t under some hallucinogens before replying. ¡°I beg your pardon?¡± ¡°Clothes. We need clothes.¡± Kyp says. The Storekeeper gawps at them one after the other for a couple of seconds, before remembering his duties, with a shake of his head. ¡°Of course.¡± he says, mildly disoriented. Before slipping out from behind his station, and leading them to a changing room. Nelzux inspects his reflection on the opaque door the storekeeper had bafflingly referred to as a mirror. He¡¯d like to see what the clothes looked like behind as well, but was disappointed to find out the mirror only worked when he was actively staring into it. The black ¡®jean¡¯ the Tradesman had offered him had a rip on the left knee. A flaw he had been assured was intentional and necessary for the overall appearance of the garment. He had paired the ¡®jeans¡¯ with other clothing he had called ¡®a tee and bomber jacket¡¯ Kyp on the other hand had clothed himself, and took great pleasure doing it, if the way he was preening at his reflection was any indication. His own black jeans didn¡¯t have any tears on it, and had instead proceeded to add two more garments over the white dress shirt the storekeeper had suggested to him. A grey sweater and a dark grey overcoat, stopping just above his thigh. Nod, to Nelzux¡¯s relief still looked like a clown. He insisted on the replication of some celebrity he had seen on a poster on the wall of the shop. Dressed in black, low baggy pants, a black graphic tee, and an oversized purple hoodie with the word ''Thug'' etched brazenly across it. ¡°The picture on the wall said it was ''Hip''.¡± He had said in response to Kyp¡¯s revolting stare. Now they were stood outside the store after rendering the storekeeper unconscious¨CKyp had insisted that he not die¨Cwhen he wouldn¡¯t accept Crulions as currency for payment. ¡°Where to now?¡± Kyp asks, still eyeing Nod¡¯s outfit something fierce. Nelzux retrieves the scanner from his bomber jacket. The jeans too tight and form fitting to house anything other than a single finger. ¡°South, like you said.¡± He responds, after triangulating the red blinking dot blinking on the scanner, with the information Kyp had given.
Ice cream. Cookies. Beer. Soda. Alex couldn''t decide. One of the benefits of having a fast metabolism that could digest anything as fast as possible meant she could consume every one of these things without any repercussions. After a moment of deliberation, she settles on a large bowl of mint Ice cream. Mint being one of her favorites since its discovery as an ice cream flavor in the 40s. She had consumed a helping of it daily¨Cto the chagrin of Akio, for almost 30 years. She kicks the fridge door shut with her foot, simultaneously reaching for a spoon just as a blue energy pulse ripples through the house. The lights fritz audibly for a second, before glowing blindingly bright. The sound of the TV going static in solidarity, crackling from the living room. What the hell? Alex heads to the living room to investigate, wincing as a tiny feedback sound upsets her ears. Thinking nothing of it¨Cshe did pick up more sounds than normal people could¨Cshe picks up the remote, flicking through a couple of channels to confirm that every station was indeed down. The bowl of Ice Cream shatters to a million pieces on the ground when she drops it to cover her ears from the sound that has now become completely unbearable. Blood drips down her nose, upsetting the mint green mess on the floor. A quick glance at her hands shows that her ears are spewing blood too. She shuts her eyes as she feels blood trickling down uncontrollably from there as well, before screaming deafeningly and falling to the ground, unconscious. The blue energy pulse ripples back out the way it came, lights and TV returning to their normal state. There is a brief crackle on the TV as a video of Cutting Crew''s "I Just Died In Your Eyes Tonight¡± starts to play. Chapter 6 Thump! Thump! Alex groans at the oddly rhythmic sound, shutting her eyes even tighter. She couldn''t remember the last time she had slept this nicely, and was intent on dragging out this small win for as long as she¨C Thump! ¡°Yes, I heard you! I''m getting up!¡± She yells, and her eyes open to reveal, marble ceiling? Thump! She lifts up abruptly, features screwing in confusion on noticing her sad grey room walls have been replaced with the kitchen sink overnight. ¡°What--?¡± Thump! Her head whips towards the direction of the sound. The upstairs window. It was probably a relentless pigeon¨Cshe had been a bit surprised to learn that birds didn''t see glass¨Cunless someone had gained the ability of flight while she was asleep, Thump! A little bit of focus has her deciphering the sound being a bit too heavy to be any kind of low flying bird, and she scrambles to her feet, almost slipping on a puddle of melted ice cream on the floor. Shuffling over to the door, hand on her head to quell the sledgehammer hard at work in there, she unlocks it and yanks it open. Hand quickly shielding her face from the rays of the sun that was apparently in on the plan to get her this morning. Thump! She inclines her head round the corner and sees Chris hopping on one leg, other socked foot dangling unsupported as he tosses his shoe repeatedly at a window on the 2nd floor. Her room window. ¡°What are you doing?¡° She asks, startling the hell out of Chris. He flails wildly and loses control of the shoe, it clunks him over the head. ¡°Alexandra fucking Jordan.¡± He seethes quietly. Alex winces at the bite of the tone. ¡°I have been outside here knocking, for 4 hours and 30 minutes!¡± he erupts, and Alex rears back in shock. He had been there that long? ¡°Where the hell is your phone?!¡± He thunders. She does a quick pat down of herself revealed it wasn¡¯t on her¨C ¡°Not with me.¡± He opens his mouth, a stern lecture about to leak through, before narrowing his eyes at the dried flecks on her face. ¡±Is that blood on your face?¡± he asks, face morphing into fear. He steps forward to inspect her, hands hovering but not outright touching. ¡°What in God''s name happened?!¡± This is a surprise to Alex who stops to cringe at her reflection on the windows, while Chris bypasses her to enter the house hurriedly.
Sometime before the present ¡­ Alex is seated opposite Chris and Lilian, therapy style. They had been seated this way for over 30 minutes now, Lilian and Chris shifting the entire inch of the sofa nervously. Clearly they had something important to discuss with her, that much she could suffice. The way they were acting however, was starting to make her suspect it was about a rather significant issue. She watches Chris¡¯ right leg stomp a vibrating beat on the carpeted floor below. After the 32nd minute of Lilian opening her mouth and then closing it without making a sound, Alex decides to take the reins on this thing. ¡°You wanted to see me?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Lilian says with relief of someone else starting the proceedings. ¡°Alexandria, we''re worried about you.¡± she says, and elbows Chris when he misses his cue. ¡°Naturally, we''re staging an intervention.¡± He adds, a bit late to Lilian¡¯s starter. Alex blinks. ¡°Oh. I''ve never had one of those before.¡± she cocks her head to the side in thought for a moment. ¡°This might turn out to be a pleasant experience.¡± She rubs her hands in anticipation, and Chris sighs. ¡°You''re not meant to be happy about it. That''s why it''s called an Intervention.¡± ¡°Oh, I''m sorry.¡± Alex says, and schools her face into utter solemnity. ¡°Go on.¡± Lilian, bless her heart, continues. ¡°We noticed you seem rather lonely most of the time.¡± ¡°And you have no friends.¡± Chris adds offhandedly, earning a side eye from his wife. Alex looks affronted. ¡°Whatever made you think that?¡± Lilian reaches over to grab her hands in placation. Alex lets her. ¡°It¡¯s just, we never see you talk with anyone, or bring anyone home ¡­¡± ¡°And you have no friends.¡± ¡°Chris.¡± ¡°Well, we all know she doesn''t. Lilian.¡± Chris says. Alex can¡¯t help but chuckle internally. Her social life had warranted said intervention, Chris and Lilian treating her lack of it like some kind of debilitating disease. Times like these made her just a little bit grateful to have lasted as long as she had, just a little more proof each day that humanity wasn¡¯t at all the lost cause she had inferred it to be. Lilian says something, and she schools her face into thorough affront. Wouldn¡¯t want to make it a walk in the park for them now. ¡°We''re not trying to pry, but have you considered seeing somebody?¡± Lilian asks hesitantly, and Chris stiffens. ¡°See, that right there is prying, honey.¡± He bites out, and Alex gets the feeling Lilian had gone off script. ¡°It''s not prying, if we''re trying to help her.¡± she parlays. ¡°Personally, I think it''s the sort of thing she''s meant to figure out by herself. I mean she¡¯s hardly a 12 year old child.¡± Chris responds, desperately trying to veer the conversation from the direction his wife seemed intent on taking it. Oh, this Intervention thing was entertaining as hell, Alex wouldn¡¯t mind sitting through a couple more of them. ¡°Oh my God, Chris!¡± Lilian whispers, or thinks she whispers furiously. ¡°This is not a united front!¡± Chris lowers his head towards her, ¡°Yea, well you kinda skipped the Matchmaking chapter, when you were pitching me the idea.¡± He imaginary whispers, and Alex is too amused to not comment. ¡°You guys know I can still hear you, right?¡± This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. They could be in Timbuktu, and she would still be able to zero in on whatever conversation they were having. Not that they needed to know that particular peculiarity of hers. Lilian turns to her with a graceful smile. ¡°What we''re saying is, maybe you should try to spend time with people other than us.¡± She resumes from six conversations ago, not missing a beat. If that wasn¡¯t a talent right there. ¡°Yes, people your own age.¡± Chris fumbles to keep up, eyebrows knitting in realization of what he had just uttered. ¡°No, that''s not right. Scratch that.¡± Alex holds back the smile threatening to break out with the conviction of a thousand years. ¡°I''m not complaining, I like spending time with you guys.¡± she says softly. Lilian¡¯s steely resolve melts at the tone. ¡°And we love you spending time with us as well. But¨C¡± ¡°Basically, Lilian wants you to get a Boyfriend. Or Girlfriend. Or ¡­ Person-friend. Whichever works for you.¡± Chris finishes, and the abruptness of the sentence is too blatant to ignore this time. ¡°Wow.¡± Alex exhales, while Lilian solicits some higher power in the sky for strength. ¡°He¡¯s being something of an asshole about it,¡± Lilian lovingly squeezes her husband''s shoulder. Hard. ¡°But he''s right. There has got to be someone you like.¡± A magnificent build up to a borderline tepid climax, Alex thinks. ¡°There isn''t.¡± Chris sits up in attention now. ¡°Someone you liked?¡± he asks. ¡°Nobody.¡± ¡°It might be some lost love?¡± Lilian sits forward as well. ¡°Nope.¡± Why weren''t they letting this go? ¡°From the 12s or 1300s perhaps?¡± Chris persists, with a frown now situated on his face. And Alex has to inhale deeply so as not to scream. ¡°I know.¡± She says, after quelling a much more venomous reply. ¡°There''s no one.¡± There is a bit of an awkward silence where Lilian doesn''t know what to do with her hands, and Chris stares unwavering at her. ¡°Okay, now I mean to pry.¡± He breaks the silence, and Lilian lets out an ¡®Oh, Chris¡¯ under her breath. ¡°You''re telling me you''ve never been attracted to anyone before?¡± He asks, completely flummoxed. And that look on his face puts Alex right back in an amused mood. ¡°You don''t have to say it like that.¡± Lilian starts another session of the non-whispering, whispering thing again. ¡°I''m sorry, but I am utterly shocked right now.¡± Chris whisper talks, before turning back to Alex. ¡°Is that how things work, where you''re from?¡± And wasn''t that a funny question seeing as Alex had no idea where she was from. ¡°Quick reminder, I have no idea where I''m from,¡± she says and Chris winces at his blunder. ¡°But I''d like to think I had parents and didn''t just drop from the ¡­ sky.¡± she trails off and something itches at the back of her head. Like a story, or a memory¨C ¡°Alex!¡± She blinks focus back into her eyes, the couple in front of her both wearing worried expressions. ¡°So yes.¡± She resumes, ¡°I was probably born, just like you.¡± She finishes. Chris nods at her response, deciding she''s alright and fit for conversation once more, Lilian is still staring a bit dubious, but even that changes as soon as Chris opens his mouth again. ¡°I was asking if they um ¡­¡± Chris takes a breath to steel his nerves. ¡°Copulated?¡± ¡°Christopher Jordan!¡± Lilian lets out a scandalized gasp that Alex simply has to laugh at. ¡°You do not say things like that!¡± Chris blushes puce, shoulders rising and dropping in a shrug. ¡°Oh please, It''s for research purposes.¡± And his red-purple face makes Alex laugh even louder. ¡°Now she''s laughing at us, Lilian.¡± He says again with a glare at his wife. ¡°She''s laughing at you.¡± she corrects. ¡°Okay.¡± Alex says, when she''s a bit settled, and her lungs have taken in sufficient air. ¡°I''m just gonna clear up the confusion.¡± She shifts forward in her seat, refusing to embrace the nervousness trying to creep in on her mood. ¡°I''m not attracted to anyone. I never have been, and no, it''s not a ¡®species trait¡¯. It''s a personal one.¡± There''s a moment where no one says anything and a little bit of that nervousness creeps in closer. ¡°Is that a good enough explanation?¡± She asks a bit desperately. ¡°Of course it is, Alex.¡± Lilian replies softly, ¡°It''s perfectly fine.¡± She nudges at Chris beside her who has his head buried in thought. He looks up with a slight frown. ¡°I don''t think I¨C Oh.¡± his eyes swell in realization. ¡°Nevermind, it''s fine.¡± He finishes, and the pensive look disappears completely from his face. Alex lets out a silent breath of relief. ¡°I can''t believe you two were about to give me ¡®The Talk¡¯. I am older than both your ancestors combined.¡± she quips, settling back in her seat. ¡°In all honesty, I was against the whole thing at first.¡± Chris raises a dramatic hand to his chest, and Lilian huffs. ¡°Please Chris. You were simply scared.¡± ¡°I wasn''t scared. I was being cautious.¡± he fields, and Lilian ignores him, turning back to Alex. ¡°I still think you need a friend.¡± She murmurs softly, and Alex deliberates. ¡°Well I have a brother. I don''t know if that counts.¡± She says after a second of consideration. She looks up at Chris and Lilian, both with matching looks of utter shock. And rears back in suspicion. ¡°I take it, it does count?¡± ¡°You have a brother?¡± Lilian screeches, and Alex has to refrain from throwing her hands over her ears. ¡°Yeah, but¨C¡± ¡°Since when?¡± Chris interrupts, eyes darting around the house, as if searching for said brother. ¡°Well it''s¨C¡± ¡°Where is he?¡± Lilian asks again, and if they would actually let her get a word in¨C ¡°Oh, he''s actually¨C¡± ¡°And why haven''t you mentioned him before?¡± Chris asks, completely distressed. Both Chris and Lilian stare at her in anticipation of an answer, Chris even going as far as flapping a hand, in urge for her to hurry up. Now they were ready to listen to answers. ¡°Oh, I can talk now?¡± She asks, an imperious eyebrow arched in faux annoyance.
Alex follows distractedly behind him, nearly smacking into his frozen form just in front of the door. She peeks around him, to see what made him stop so abruptly and winces at the reddish green puddle on the ground. A wonderful bowl of ice cream now ruined, she laments. ¡°Tell me you did not throw a ¡®rager¡¯ in the house.¡± Chris says, as calm as can be. ¡°I swear, I did not.¡± She responds, before she has a moment to think about it. Then again, last night was a blur. ¡°I think.¡± She adds, just to cover her bases. Chris stares at her, not quite sure whether to be pissed or concerned. Her eyes wander to inspect him in turn, confirming he is indeed alright, and she can''t help but grin a little at his missing left shoe. ¡°Are you okay?¡± He asks, with a bit more composure this time. ¡°I don''t know.¡± Alex says, and glances her reflection on the window. ¡°I can say I feel a lot better than I look though. Chris relaxes some. ¡°This is good news. Because you look like you tried to stop a bullet train with your face.¡± Alex chuckles at the statement. He was making jokes again, good. He leans against the back of the couch. ¡°What do you remember?¡± He asks, crossing his arms. ¡°I was over by the fridge, trying to get some Ice Cream,¡± Alex has her head angled as she recalls, ¡°then I get this very brutal headache. Next thing I know, you''re trying to smash bulletproof glass with your shoes.¡± she finishes with a wave at Chris. ¡°I was scared shitless. I thought something had happened to you.¡± ¡°Apparently, I''m fine.¡± She says with a shrug, her eyes narrowing as she thinks¨C ¡°Hold on, why didn''t you have your keys?¡± Chris uncrosses his arms and struts away from her. ¡°There was a freak thing with the weather last night, I thought it might be you?¡± He picks the remote up from the floor where it lies, and changes the station on the TV. Alex on the other hand is having a hard time remembering anything past the last 10 minutes. She massages the sides of her head with a grimace, ultimately succumbing to the severe pounding in her head. ¡°If it was, I''m not aware of it.¡± She settles on instead. Chris hums. ¡°Anyway, hurrying here I must have forgotten the keys.¡± he says, and is suddenly too interested in some nonsense on the TV. ¡°You don''t know where you left them, do you?¡± Alex asks. ¡°I really don''t, no.¡± He admits. Alex scrunches her eyes shut. ¡°Of course.¡± She groans softly, her hands shooting to frame her aching head. Chris places a hand on her shoulder. ¡°What''s wrong?¡± ¡°I''ve never experienced a hangover before, but I imagine this is what one feels like.¡± she says, pinching the bridge of her nose. ¡°I think you should see Akio.¡± Alex groans again. ¡°I''m fine, Chris. I just need a little nap, that''s all.¡± ¡°I''m sure you are.¡± He insists, ¡°but it doesn''t hurt to check.¡± She removes herself from his hold and stalks into the kitchen, fetching herself a glass of water. ¡°I''m alright. There''s no need worrying him over minute things.¡± she says and gulps the water down rapidly. Chris eyes her thoroughly. ¡°Alex, you woke up in a puddle of blood and Ice Cream, and barely remember how you got there. Now unless ¡®minute¡¯ has taken on a different meaning¨C¡± ¡°20 minutes. I take a nice, long shower, clean this place up, and I''ll be back to fun old Alex in record time.¡± she says, willing him with her stare to give into her suggestion. ¡°Who says you''re fun?¡± Chris rears back in over exaggeration, and Alex makes an affronted noise. ¡°You take that back, I am fun!¡± She points a finger at him, and Chris has no qualms playing dirty. ¡°What would Lilian want?¡± He asks, Alex''s protests dying in her throat. ¡°You know she''d have wanted you to see someone, make sure everything was alright in that can of yours.¡± He shifts his face into something particularly pitiful, and Alex groans in defeat. ¡°That''s a-- Really Chris? Using your dead wife as blackmail?¡± She runs a hand through her short hair, already sticking up on end. ¡°This is a new low even for you.¡± ¡°Not if it''s for a good cause.¡± He informs her before starting out the kitchen. ¡°You flying or you driving?¡± She follows behind him. ¡°I never said I was going.¡± He repeats the question again, this time infusing it with all the seriousness he''s capable of. Which is a lot when it comes to his family''s well-being. ¡°Flying.¡± Alex sighs. ¡°I''d like to get this over with.¡± Chris nods in satisfaction. ¡°Done, I''ll book you a flight. Last time you used my jet, you trashed it and didn''t clean it up.¡± Alex tilts her head in recollection. ¡°That actually wasn''t me, I loaned it to this girl for her bachelorette thing.¡± She says. Chris huffs incredulously. ¡°That''s even worse, you giving out something that wasn''t yours in the first place.¡± He whips out his phone and types something rapidly on it, nodding at the little ¡®ding¡¯ he receives a while afterward. ¡°And please clean up before you leave. I can''t have people out there thinking I run a fight club in the basement.¡± he says once his gaze lands her again. Alex studies the puddle, then him. ¡°That''s all you''re worried about, how I look?¡± She asks, arms folded across her chest, eyebrows raised in accusation. Chris looks a little sheepish, and Alex grins in victory. ¡°Right, I''m sorry. Clean up the Ice Cream too, I had those floorboards flown in from Rome.¡± He says, wiping the smug smile from her face. He starts up the stairs to his room, only daring to smile at her annoyed reaction when he''s sure she can''t see him. Chapter 7 Nod shifts uncomfortably in his seat. Being crammed into a tubular tin can was not what he foresaw in this pursuit. One look at Kyp beside him made him groan. The man had the gall to look excited, brimming with energy more than enough for the three of them. He was even listening attentively to what the inferior human woman had to say about the restraints on their seats. He decides enough is enough when Kyp leans over to replicate the instructions on his seat restraints. ¡°I do not see why we couldn''t have gone on foot. Or better yet, flown in our own ship.¡± He swats futilely at Kyp''s unyielding hands. ¡°You were the one who voted we blend in.¡± Kyp retorts, the satisfying click of Nod''s seatbelt settling him ¡°No, I was the one who voted we tear the planet apart, and declare an invasion till they surrendered the Crystal.¡± Nod pouts, crossing his arms over his chest in disappointment ¡°Sometimes Nod, the easiest missions take a little precision.¡± He reaches for the pamphlets behind the chair opposite him, fully intent on digesting them. Nod snatches a pamphlet from him, eyes squinting at its vivid illustrations. ¡°How is being stuck in a flying metal tube easy?¡± Kyp sighs, at this rate he would never get to read his folded paper. ¡°Let me guess, you would rather be stuck on our flying metal ship?¡± Nod huffs. ¡°Ours is better because its technology is superior.¡± ¡°It is a vessel that floats, same as this.¡± Kyp fires back. He lifts the pamphlet to his face, legs crossed, signalling the end of the conversation. The plane starts to take off, rumbling lowly as Nod responds to Kyp, who in turn combats, thus beginning a verbal back and forth. Their voices fade into the abyss. Nelzux is sat by the window, fingers gripping his arm rest with enough force to rip it off. The only thing stopping him from actually laying waste to it, was fear of the plane crashing, due to the faulty armrest. He squeezes his eyes shut, as the plane angles, willing the mechanism to move faster. The plane finally stabilizes, reminding Nelzux to let out the breath he was choking on. He looks around wide eyed, still reeling from the experience, and oblivious to the tugging at his sleeve. ¡°Nelzux!¡± Kyp reports, like a child to its parent. ¡°You would never believe what--¡± He is cut off by Nelzux''s off-kilter look. ¡°Are you alright?¡± Kyp asks, and Nelzux tries to school his face into something resembling dignity. ¡°Of course he''s alright, he''s Nelzux.¡± Nod interjects slow as ever, and Nelzux is for once grateful for his lack of observation skills. ¡°Do not think you can brush off the subject--¡± Kyp signals for Nod to swallow whatever argument he was about to embark on, and points to Nelzux. ¡°He looks like he''s seen a Draugr.¡± Kyp says, like Nelzux wasn''t right beside him. This piece of information has Nod inspecting the Nelzux himself, his eyes first narrowing in consideration, before gleaming in barely concealed humor. ¡°It appears you are right.¡± Kyp struggles to keep a straight face, his brain working rapidly to piece together the source of his discomfort and Nelzux considers tearing the roof off the plane. He would survive, he could fly after all. ¡°Are you scared of flying on a plane?¡± Kyp asks. Aliens do not flush. But if they did, Nelzux would have put a tomato to shame. ¡°Quiet.¡± he grunts out, and to his despair, not even in the least bit menacing. Kyp obliges, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Nod on the hand, was either not prepared or too foolish to grant him the same courtesy. ¡°By the gods, you are!¡± he bellows in loud laughter, smacking a heavy hand across Nelzux''s chest. ¡°I said quiet, Nod.¡± Nelzux says, a couple of heads turning towards them due to the volume of Nod¡¯s guffaw. He shrinks into his seat. ¡°How is this possible?¡± Kyp sees his opening and takes it. ¡°You can fly.¡± he asks, genuinely intrigued. If Kyp ever found an answer, he would do well to share it with him. ¡°I''m not talking about this anymore.¡± Nelzux says, finding solace in the ear contraptions the chattering maid had handed to him before the plane took off. He fixes it over his head, like he had seen the aged man in front of him do, Nod¡¯s laughter thankfully fading into a soothing silence once his ears are snugly sheltered. He closes his eyes. Kyp swats at a still laughing Nod, jostling him into¨Cif not completely calming down, tuning the volume down on his preposterous laughter. Nod recedes to quiet huffs, and he settles. It would not do to draw attention to themselves on the flight, considering their aspirations. He chances a look around, making sure they hadn''t drawn serious attention, other than the few heads that had turned during Nod''s cackling. Everyone seems intent on their own thing now, heads faced forward in anticipation of the journey. Good. He turns around to confirm the same state of matters behind him, only to be started by a child. A little boy about 8 Earth cycles is seated behind Nod, eyes gleaming in surprise and mouth ajar. Obviously he had been eavesdropping on their conversation. Kyp¡¯s head whirls forward again to frantically tug on Nod, who turns to the indicated child with a frown ¡°Can the both of you fly too?¡± The child squeaks. ¡°No.¡± Nod answers jovially. ¡°Kyp can multiply himself, while I can release beastly tendons from my body.¡± He finishes coolly, akin to one concluding a nursery rhyme. Kyp gawks unbelievably at his complete lack of unsubtlety. ¡°That is so cool.¡± The child complements, relaxing in his seat. Nod however seems somewhat offended by the simplification of his abilities. ¡°It is not cool.¡± he spits, the word dripping with venom. ¡°The ability to crush your enemy in mere seconds without batting an eyelash, is sublime.¡± he lets a wistful look dart across his face. The little boy''s eyes widen in his head, prompting Kyp to finally intervene. ¡°Are you absolutely certain the little one can stomach your war stories?¡± he asks Nod, who has to shake himself out of whatever gory trance he had slipped into. ¡°Of course he can. He is a man.¡± Nod declares, confusion darting across his face for a split second before addressing the boy this time. ¡°You are a man are you not?¡± The little boy nods quickly in affirmation, the worry lines dismissing from Nod''s face when he returns to Kyp. ¡°See?¡± He turns back to the child once more. ¡°Let me tell you of the time I beheaded an entire planet of dwarves all in time for breakfast.¡± he declares, hand outstretched, twirling an invisible sword. Kyp brightens at the announcement. He remembers this one. If the little one was prepared to hear it, far be it from him to deny the child a decent prose. He nods in agreement with Nod. ¡°Oh yes, this is a good story.¡±
Somewhere in America, 1788 ¡­ A whip cracks down on a boy, and the child screams in agony. Alex watches from her seat in a corner of the diner, wincing at the taskmaster yelling expletives along with the whipping. The boy writhes and twists on the ground, sweat and blood matting dark hair to his face. The man picks the child up with a painful grip by his hair, and she has a clear view of his features. Asian, about 13 years old, with the kind of eyes that looked like they had seen more than their owner appeared to have lived. This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. ¡°You thieving piece of shit!¡± The man yells in tandem with the whip cracking down on the boy. And the piercing screams that follow are getting really hard to ignore. Prompting Alex to swear softly before wrenching the whip from the man''s grasp. ¡°I think he''s had enough.¡± She says, rolling the whip up and tossing it from reach. The man whirls to face Alex¨Cshe had yanked it when he had thrown his arm back¨Chis scrutinizing glare pinning her to the spot. ¡°Now who the fuck do you think you are?¡± the man glares so fiercely, Alex almost expects something behind her to catch on fire. ¡°I couldn''t help but overhear you calling him a thief, and thought I might offer my expertise seeing as I run a reformatory.¡± The man does a double take at her accent. His glare wrinkling into confusion, mouth parted in a little ''o'', revealing stained teeth. ¡°What?¡± He replies eloquently. Alex exhales slowly, biting down the scathing remark that had bubbled to her throat. ¡°A prison house for children.¡± She simplifies a bit nettled ¡°Oh.¡± The man¡¯s posture relaxes. ¡°As tempting as that sounds, I paid good money for him.¡± He punctuates by kicking Akio''s form on the ground, curled up in the fetus position. Best to hurry this up. ¡°Well then.¡± Alex ransacks her coat, pulling out an impressive bag of coins and offering it. ¡°Will this suffice?¡± The man''s eyes widen in surprise.
Nod, Kyp and the Boy are in a heated conversation, Nod aggressively shoving people out of the way as they walk into the airport arrival area. Nelzux staggers nauseatingly behind, palms digging into his eyes to clear them of their haze. ¡°You see child,¡± Nod is saying, ¡°the way to conquering this new father who steps, is by showing no fear in the face of adversity.¡± The child frowns at the advice. ¡°But I don''t want to conquer him, I just want him to like me.¡± Nod opens his mouth again, some battle strategy itching to seep through. Kyp shoves him out of the way, pulling the young child into his space with a firm arm. ¡°Child, he should be the one trying to please you. He is after all the anomaly in your family.¡± He says soothingly, and the crease in between the child¡¯s eyes disappears. ¡°Exactly.¡± Nod seconds as soon as he has found his footing. They walk briskly, Nod bumping into someone aggressively and spilling her luggage. ¡°Excuse me?¡± they say, and Nod whirls around to face them¨CA girl, about 24 earth cycles, dark skin, and short hair that sticks up everywhere like an Earth sea urchin. He scrunches his nose in disapproval. ¡°You are excused.¡± He says, and he, Kyp, and the Child continue on, Nelzux in tow. Alex glares at their retreating forms, exhaling deeply to steady herself. She has half a mind to send the rude one sailing out the window. However bursts of aggression like that were at the top of the list of things Chris definitely did not approve of. She groans low in her throat instead, settling on righting her trolley box the lumbering halfwit had knocked down. ¡°Asshole.¡± She yells before walking on, not giving a crap who heard her. Nelzux was growing increasingly uncomfortable with Kyp and Nod¡¯s fixation on the child. He had expected a parent to whisk the halfling away upon disembarkment of the plane, only to discover to his increasing horror, that the child was something the female servant had referred to as an ¡®Unaccompanied Minor¡¯. Which meant he had no guardians present with him on the plane. Kyp and Nod had taken the information with a grace that Nelzux could have sworn Nod wasn¡¯t capable of, choosing to look after the boy, and answer his insipid little questions. Like the present one concerning some new father who enjoyed stepping. ¡°You have been present long before he was.¡± Kyp has a hand on the boy¡¯s shoulder, he himself bent in a bid to meet the child¡¯s gaze. ¡°Therefore you must stand firm. You must not be threatened, you are the man of the house, not him.¡± he finishes. A woman waves to the boy from the waiting area, the child waves back. ¡°That''s my Mum. I gotta go.¡± the boy says, and Nelzux would do a little victory dance if it wasn¡¯t beneath his status. ¡°Never forget, little comrade. Fear has no place in a warrior''s heart.¡± Nod proclaims in parting. The boy takes in this piece of information with a great deal of attention and a rapid nod, stealing a quick hug from Kyp and Nod before running into his mother¡¯s arms. Nod stares confusedly, his mouth open in invitation to the flies. It is with great pleasure that Nelzux snaps it shut, regretting profusely that it does not catch his loose tongue. ¡°What happened to not mingling with the humans?¡± he scolds, a disapproving frown on his face as he shoves through the both of them, stalking toward the exit.
Somewhere in America, 1788 ¡­ Alex exits the diner, the child in tow behind her. She can¡¯t help but notice his nervous fidgeting from the corner of her eye, his hands wringing themselves into an intricate knot that just had to hurt. ¡°I don''t actually run a correctional facility.¡± She says randomly, and the boy¡¯s head whips up to her. ¡°What?¡± Alex sighs. ¡°I''m not putting you in a prison house, because I don''t run one. I''m not even certain there is one on this side of the world anyway.¡± she elaborates, and he scrambles to keep up with her both in pace and conversation. ¡°But you told¨C¡± Alex interrupts him with a weary sigh, and they halt. ¡°I know what I said. Right now I''m telling you I don''t have a prison, so you''re free to go.¡± She gestures to the other side of the road. The building opposite was a bar, but hopefully he got the general message. Akio scrunches his eyebrows in thought, taking a moment to stare at the ground before looking back at Alex. ¡°Go where?¡± he says finally. ¡°I don''t know. Wherever you want?¡± Alex says exasperatingly, eyes darting the length of the road and numerous buildings beyond them. ¡°I don''t know anywhere.¡± He says softly, head bowed. ¡°I''ve lived with him ever since I got here.¡± his lips curl in disdain at the word ¡®him¡¯ and Alex sighs in frustration. Keeping a person, let alone a blasted warlock was not on her bucket list for any time period. ¡°Do you at least have somewhere to sleep?¡± She asks, somehow trying to delay the inevitable of the boy spending the night at her home somehow. ¡°No.¡± She anticipated the answer, and it still doesn''t go down well with her. She throws her hands up in exasperation, trying not to pull on her hair. It had gotten longer than was acceptable, and needed tending to soon. ¡°So what the hell were you planning on doing after you blasted your meal ticket?¡± Akio''s head whips up at that, his mouth scrambling to make up simple sentences. Oh, this was going to be interesting. ¡°What?¡± He chokes. ¡°Don''t play coy,¡± Alex rolls her eyes. ¡°I saw you twirling angry magick in between your fingers.¡± Akio stills, hackles raised. ¡°I-I didn''t¨C¡± ¡°Relax. If I was going to say anything to anyone, I would have said it in there.¡± She assures, and a bit of the tension exits his shoulders. He plants his feet firmer on the floor, back straightening in determination of something, Alex doesn''t know. ¡°I''m Akio.¡± He stretches a hand out in introduction. Alex stares at the outstretched hand, routinely not taking it. ¡°Alexandria.¡± She says instead. ¡°You can put your hand down.¡± He does. ¡°Are you a-- like me, too?¡± He asks next, and Alex can''t help a disgusted scoff in return. ¡°No offense, but no.¡± She resumes walking, Akio running to keep up with her. She was getting close to her home now, Akio still not making any attempts to leave. ¡°So how do you know about Warlocks?¡± Alex eyes him dubiously. ¡°I''ve seen my fair share of things.¡± Akio hums. ¡°Are they popular in Britain?¡± ¡°Britain?¡± ¡°That''s where you''re from, right?¡± ¡°I''m not-- what?¡± Alex rears back incredulously. ¡°It''s your accent.¡± ¡°I''m not British.¡± Macedonian actually, but that wasn''t a story she was looking forward to telling. Akio ponders. ¡°But the accent¨C¡± ¡°I''m not British.¡± she repeats, voice firm. End of story. Akio raises his hand in defeat. ¡°So, you don''t care that I''m a warlock?¡± he clocks the look on her face and elaborates. ¡°I¡¯ve lived through a lot of ugly moments, I''m just trying to make sure this isn''t another Salem waiting to happen.¡± he stuffs his hands into tattered pockets nervously. Alex turns slightly to size him up. ¡°What do you know about Salem?¡± ¡°I lost my Mum to the stake.¡± He says with a shrug. Ah. She slows to a halt, Akio settling alongside her. ¡°Sorry.¡± Alex says awkwardly, hands crossing behind her back. ¡°Yea, it''s fine.¡± Another shrug. Alex teeters uncomfortably for a moment, unfamiliar with navigating through grief or sentiment. ¡°Salem.¡± She says, rocking on the balls of her feet. ¡°So how old does that make you?¡± Best to steer the conversation away from misery. Akio perks up a bit. ¡°I was born in 1650.¡± Alex rears back slightly, angling herself to properly size him. She does so for a moment, eyebrows dancing in tandem with whatever is going on in her head, before nodding impressively. ¡°Pretty impressive for a 138 year old man.¡± she scores, and Akio preens. A moment, then her face crumbles into incredulity. ¡°Yet you let that uncultured swine beat on you?¡± ¡°It''s like you said, he was my meal ticket.¡± Alex hums in agreement, head whipping to the impressive house they were standing in front of. Akio chances a look about, just then realizing they were now miles away from the meal place, and currently situated just out of town. His eyes flick back to the huge house in front of them and Akio whistles. ¡°Is this yours?¡± he asks, eyes not straying from the huge stone building. ¡°Yes.¡± Alex replies, whipping out an impressive bunch of keys. ¡°I bought it from a trader who was relocating.¡± Her eyes are squinted in focus, fingers rapidly thumbing through the bunch in search of the right key. Akio watches her for a couple of seconds, thoughts swirling about in his head. A particular question edges its way to the front of his mind, and he can''t help but fidget in curiousity. ¡°What now?¡± Alex asks, eyes not straying from her ongoing task. ¡°How are you ... here. By yourself?¡± Akio wrings his fingers so tightly, he''s certain he cuts off blood circulation for a second. Alex raises a questioning brow, still busy with the keys. She doesn''t seem affronted, so Akio takes it as a sign to continue. ¡°I mean, you own a house.¡± he waves a hand at the building. Alex''s second brow shoots up, and Akio can make out the faint outlines of a smirk fighting to spill. She was finding his anxiety amusing. Wonderful. ¡°And?¡± she asks, drawing out the monosyllabic word in a very obvious bait. ¡°Y-y ... You own your own house.¡± Akio stomps head on into the trap. ¡°I do.¡± ¡°And you''re ... um.¡± He swallows hard, gesticulating in her general direction wildly. ¡°¡­ Black?¡± she finishes. ¡°Yes.¡± Akio blanches. Alex chuckles, finally abandoning her search to knowingly pluck a key from the bunch. And if she knew the exact key, why go through the show of searching in the first place? Akio chews on his lower lip in thought. ¡°Well, like you I''ve also got a few tricks up my sleeve.¡± She opens the door with a smile, gesturing for Akio to follow her in with a tilt of her head. Chapter 8 Alex squints as the bright glare of the fluorescent light bulbs bounce off the boot buckles on her outstretched feet. The gloomy hospital decor automatically causing a bout of despair to sink in. Funny, seeing as she wasn''t even here for a health-related reason. Now not necessarily a fan of bright colors, she considers the wait room, and the overall misery of the people sat waiting on information concerning their loved ones. Perhaps an uplifting color scheme might be in order. A small smile creeps onto her face, when Akio walks in, his eyes searching. ¡°Doctor Jordan.¡± She calls, arms spread over the unoccupied seats beside her in a lazy lounge. Akio brightens, turning towards the sound of the voice with a smile. ¡°I think it has a nice ring to it.¡± She finally lifts up, and embraces him. A breathless ¡®Alex¡¯ leaving Akio as she squeezes him closer to herself. She pulls back to catalog him for a moment. A far cry from the tattered child that wouldn''t let her be in 1788, he had grown into his own. She inspects everything from the eye bags beneath his eyes¨Cnow considerably better¨Cto the light shoes he has on under his maroon scrubs. Still clean shaven as always. Akio catches her scrutinizing him and rolls his eyes, a reaction that was now partially reflex, wherever she was concerned. ¡°I am so sorry I missed the anniversary.¡± He says regarding Lilian, ¡°Chris must think I''m such an asshole.¡± Alex frowns at the statement. ¡°What are you talking about? He''s so proud of you, it''s all he ever broadcasts.¡± She deepens her voice in parody of Chris, shoulders reared back to appear taller. "¡®Akio is a Doctor.¡¯; ¡®He went to Harvard¡¯; ¡®Alex won''t get off the couch.¡¯" Akio laughs, sobering up instantly upon continuing the conversation about Lilian. ¡°How''s he holding up considering?¡± He asks. And Alex waves a vague hand. ¡°Ah, he''s dealing with things all Chris-like. Most of the time, I have to run to keep up with him.¡± ¡°I can''t even imagine.¡± he hums, eyes glazing over in quick thought. Alex pulls him out of it. ¡°By the way, he''s ''un-retired'' again.¡± Akio makes a distressed sound. ¡°After that party?¡± ¡°After the bloody party.¡± Alex confirms. ¡°God, I feel sorry for everyone at the office already.¡± ¡°I wanted to stop him at first.¡± Alex says, fists tucking into her loose pants pockets. ¡°Then I thought, maybe he needed the activity?¡± she says, head tilting in question. Akio scratches his jaw. ¡°Yea, it''ll probably help to distract him from everything.¡± A finger rests on his lips, eyes scrunched together. ¡°And give me some much needed peace.¡± Alex adds. ¡°I''m sorry, what exactly is it you do all day?¡± Akio asks, a dubious eyebrow hovering. Alex rankles in faux anger, hand flying to her chest in offense. ¡°I beg your pardon?¡± She demands. ¡°I''ve had a long and taxing life, thank you very much. I deserve every bit of lazing about I''m doing and more, so you and Chris need to back the hell up.¡± she finishes with a shooing gesture. ¡°The Alex I knew used to relish the rush of life.¡± Akio crosses his arms in challenge. ¡°Heck, even Chris just upended his retirement out of sheer boredom.¡± he goads, and it probably would have worked on a younger Alex, she thinks. Not the current domesticated version before Akio today. ¡°That Alex has been put away.¡± She says, pleased at the fact that the declaration was in fact true and fully welcomed. ¡°This Alex is comfortable playing board games and cussing out Shark Tank participants with Chris.¡± Akio winces at the information. ¡°He''s watching Shark Tank? Oh, that can''t be pleasant.¡± ¡°I tried to talk to him about his well-being once.¡± Alex recalls. ¡°He pushed me off topic with some overly comedic zen quote. And then shoved me.¡± Akio cackles, never one to miss a chance to laugh at her.¡°Is that why you''re here? Need some reinforcements?¡± ¡°No, I can handle Chris.¡± She grabs him in a one sided hug, wrenching him forcefully from his spot. ¡°I came to see you, since you refused to come see us. Mountain.¡± She waves at herself. ¡°Muhammad.¡± She waves at Akio. Akio shoves away from her, untangling himself from the furious hug. His hands quickly dart up to repair his mushed hair like the prima donna he pretends not to be. ¡°Okay, watch the hair.¡± He gives his coiff an overt pat. ¡°I might as well tell you, I applied to transfer to California, so I could be close.¡± he says, face a maintained picture of perfect nonchalance that Alex sees right through. Alex brightens up anyway. ¡°Really? That''s awesome! We can paint the town on weekends, the three of us, it''ll be like old times.¡± She says. ¡°When does the transfer kick in?¡± ¡°I don''t know, I haven''t had the chance to follow up on anything yet.¡± He swipes exaggeratingly at a non-existent piece of dirt on his scrubs. ¡°Try to remember, you''re talking to a doctor here.¡± ¡°So Doctor is stressed? We can fix that.¡± she smacks him hard on the back, jostling him. Akio profusely apologizes to the person he almost lands on to Alex''s continued amusement. ¡°What time will you be free tonight?¡± She asks once he''s done fulfilling his apology quota. He groans. ¡°Nooo.¡± ¡°Come on, I''ll treat you to dinner, we''ll swap stories, you check my brain, we bowl a bit, and I''ll have you back here, bright and early.¡± Her hands fly up to massage the stress out of his shoulders. He is taller than her so she shoves him down to her level, plunging him into an awkward crouch. ¡°Alex, I have stuff to¨C¡± he stops abruptly, eyes blinking rapidly as if deleting his last words to get back to Alex''s sentence. ¡°Wait, what did you just say?¡± ¡°Bright and early?¡± ¡°No, before that.¡± ¡°Oh, we bowl a bit.¡± His eyebrows were knitting in slow anger now, and well Alex never claimed she was adequate at self-preservation. She squeezes his knotted shoulders a bit harder. ¡°What''s wrong with your head, Alex?¡± he asks, dislodging her hands from his shoulders, voice losing its playful edge. ¡°It''s really nothing serious¨C¡± ¡°What happened?¡± he asks firmly, and all the lightheartedness is sucked from the air in an instant. ¡°Chris insisted I get it checked.¡± she sighs, ¡°I had this thing last night, where I got a terrible migraine.¡± ¡°And then what?¡± ¡°I have no idea. I woke up this morning, and Chris said he had been banging on the front door, 4 hours straight.¡± His eyes dart around in thought. ¡°You didn''t hear him?¡± ¡°Nope. I was unconscious.¡± Akio grabs her by the arm and hauls them down some path. Only stopping briefly to open a narrow door, and thrust them into what¨Cafter brief inspection appears to be a dank janitor¡¯s closet. Alex wrinkles her nose, both at the obvious neglect of the closet and the manhandling. ¡°You couldn''t have chosen a better venue?¡± She turns accusing eyes at Akio. He is too worried to bait into an attention-shifting argument, so it doesn''t work. ¡°¡®Nothing serious''?!¡± He resumes their previous conversation from the wait room, no regard for Alex''s untriggered trap. ¡°Also, I had been bleeding from my eyes, nose, and ears.¡± She adds, only God understanding the reason why. But if he was going to do something, best to have all the information, yes? ¡°Why the hell didn''t you lead with that?!¡± He was scolding her now, like some disobedient child. Which was becoming too much chastising for one evening, perhaps her entire life. ¡°Because now your face is all scrunched up and contorted with worry.¡± She says, hands flailing around his indeed agitated expression. ¡°Better my face than your brain, dumbass!¡± He parries and Alex doesn''t shrink at the reprimand. Almost skulking. Almost. He exhales audibly, gathering his composure once again before speaking. ¡°Since I can''t exactly book you for an MRI scan ... Gimme 15 minutes let me tidy up over here, then we can get dinner.¡± ¡°Oh, God yes.¡± Alex says, ducking to prevent Akio''s wagging finger from poking her eyes. ¡°I''m doing this because of your head. You as a person have nothing to do with it.¡± he says, the fondness in that sentence not even the least bit smothered by his unconcerned attitude. Alex scoffs unbelievably in response. ¡°Yes, thank you Akio, I love you too.¡± Akio scoffs in turn mock offended cracking smile as soon as the little door swings open, and back is turned.
Alex''s home, 1788 ... Alex shoots up from sleep with a gasp. Her room door swings open with a force so hard, it smacks against the opposite wall and barrels back, Akio stopping it from clipping him in the face at the last second. ¡°What.¡± She blinks rapidly, willing sleep deprived eyes to immediately function at peak capacity. ¡°There''s an angry mob outside.¡± Akio pants. ¡°What?¡± Alex repeats, dropping from her bed to the front door in a quick dash. She opens it to an incensed mob, lit torches and pitchforks in hand. They mutter angrily amongst themselves, volume increasing as soon as she steps out to address them. ¡°Can I help you?¡± Alex regards them irritatingly. If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Akio''s former master shuffles his way forward, elbowing every and anybody in his way. ¡°This ain''t no prison house for kids!¡± He yells the obvious. He was becoming more trouble than she had expected. ¡°I thought it wise to rest before we embarked on the journey to¨C¡± She cuts off with a sigh. Functioning on 2 seconds of sleep and untethered fury, her fingers pinch the bridge of her nose. ¡°You know what, you''re right, there is no correctional facility. I just couldn''t stand you whipping the boy like an animal.¡± The crowd mutters their disagreement with her statement, the man positioned in front of her nodding vigorously to egg them on. He whips back to face her with a loud snarl, teeth bared in threat. ¡°I want him back!¡± ¡°I paid for him.¡± Alex says with a scoff. The man takes another step forward getting even closer, and Alex has to rear back instantly from the foul stench that is his breath. ¡°I don''t know whatever deal you got going on with the Governor that makes you think you''re untouchable, but I''d be careful how you talk in front of these people here.¡± He whispers, and Alex has a feeling her invulnerability was the only thing keeping the acidity of his rancid breath from peeling her skin. ¡°I paid you a whole lot more than the child was worth. You better turn around and leave, before things get messy here.¡± She replies, her voice raised for people in front to properly hear. He flashes stained teeth at her, mercifully letting out a puff of air once his face is away from hers, before turning to address the mob. ¡°Y''all hear that? She says she''s go''n kill me!¡± The crowd grows antsy. Grips on pitchforks tightening in purpose and agitation. Alex bristles at the number of people she''d have to kill if this couldn''t get sorted. She had hit her limit on the ¡®plagues and incurable illness¡¯ excuses as far as the Mayor was concerned. ¡°Says she''s go''n string me up by my own gizzards if we don''t get off her property!¡± Stained teeth was still saying, the roar from the crowd sealing the fact that she would not be getting out of this without bloodshed. Speaking of bloodshed. The man whips to face Alex, pistol quick drawn and poised to shoot, the loud clicking of numerous other guns interrupting an otherwise perfect night. A quick angling of her head away from the gun pointed at her, reveals numerous other guns pointed at her. Their wielders in no mood for negotiation. ¡°We can''t have you out of order now can we?¡± He asks, nozzle inching forward slowly to finally rest on her head. She groans. Damn, she liked this house. Perhaps one last effort¨C ¡°Listen, I don''t¨C¡± The words are hardly out of her mouth any sooner than her adversary is blasted backwards across the street. She blinks owlishly, her gaze as well as the crowd¡¯s following the trail of fading purple energy from their fallen leader to Akio standing behind Alex at the door. She winces as all eyes turn to them. ¡°Well shit.¡± ¡°Witchcraft!¡± A random voice cracks through the silence, and a shot fires, Alex closing and bolting the door just in time for the bullet to splinter dry wood. They both fall to a crouch at the sound, hands lifting to press against their ears as more guns join in the catastrophe. ¡°What were you thinking?!¡± Alex screams angrily, the hands framing her face accompanied by the cowardly crouch position, lessening the reprimand by a good percentage. ¡°He was going to shoot you!¡± Akio parries. ¡°So you use your powers in front of an armed mob?!¡± She yells back. The door groans under the weight of the attack, and Alex takes a second to thank the extravagant trader for whatever the hell kind of wood the door was made of. ¡°Get your shit, we''re leaving!¡± She says, voice rising higher than the reverberations of rapid gunfire. Akio does a quick inspection of the ground around him to Alex''s immense disbelief. ¡°I don''t have any shit!¡± he yells, after the stupid action. The idiot. Honestly! ¡°Then use the back door!¡± She says. Grateful when Akio listens and immediately bolts out the back door. She raises from her crouch to detour somewhere else in the house. The sound of the front door finally collapsing nettling her even further. People pour into the house, setting books on fire and smashing priceless possessions. Akio stops at a safe distance, pausing to catch his breath. He lets out a little whimper at the sight of the flames that have now engulfed the entire house. Alex had seemed really fond of it, taking the time to give him a grand tour of the impressive space. His heart stutters a bit in his chest, eyes searching, praying fervently that Alex had gotten out before the fire swallowed the building in its unforgiving flames. ¡°Devil spawn!¡± He whips around to find his former owner, gun aimed between Akio''s eyes, breath coming out in laborious pants. Akio backs up a step, body angled to dive for the man at the slightest chance. He cocks his gun, and Akio watches him squeeze the trigger in slow motion. Eyes squeezing shut when he realizes there would be no monologue or miracle to save him this time. He was going to die. A sickening snap jolts him out of his subconscious, his body jerking involuntarily at the sound. His eyes fly open to find his assailant strewn dead on the ground, his neck twisted inhumanly to the side. Alex stands by the body, glare boring an angry hole into the center of an already dead head. Akio jerks forward and halts abruptly, barely resisting the urge to barrel into her in a hug. ¡°You''re not dead!¡± Akio settles for rejoicing instead, and then slaps a hand over his mouth. Best to not reveal their location to the bloodthirsty mob. Alex replies with an annoyed hum, sidestepping the strewn man by her feet with candid disdain. ¡°I wish I could say the same for my home though.¡± She adjusts what Akio notices is a moderate-sized bag behind her. ¡°I''m sorry.¡± He says. And she waves it away. ¡°It''s fine. Are you hurt?¡± Akio pats himself down in confirmation of all his body parts. ¡°All good. What''s in the bag?¡± He pretends like he doesn''t see her grip tighten where she grips the canvas. ¡°My shit.¡± ¡°You risked getting killed to get your shit?¡± He says incredulously, eyes flicking to the still ablaze house that lights up the entire street. She swings the bag over her shoulder elegantly. ¡°Just the important shit.¡± She inclines her head away from the house, and they start away from their dark corner. ¡°What about him?¡± Akio jerks a thumb at the receding dead man behind them. ¡°I¡¯d rather we didn''t stay and find out.¡± she replies after a quick glance behind her. Akio fidgets at the casual nonchalance with which she dismisses the dead man. He had killed precisely one person before in an act of self defense, and remembered how difficult he had found eating for an entire month. Cold dismissals like the one Alex had just displayed meant a long list of bodies to the displayer¡¯s name. A long list of people who had come up short in a fight against Alex. He curses his bad luck. ¡°Listen, if you ever have something to say, please say it. The squirming is infuriating.¡± Her sudden input causes him to jump a little. He was taught not to speak without permission, creative and painful consequences awaiting him each time he broke said rule. Perhaps following it, would work in his favor where she was concerned as well. He informs her as such along with the details of the several punishments his former owner had rewarded him with, watching in confusion as her eyes widened in what could only be described as horror. ¡°I don''t own you. If you think back a couple of hours ago, I asked you to leave." She looks back at the body, now a good distance away. The fingers of her free hand clenching, like she wanted to snap the man''s neck a second time. ¡°And I said I had nowhere to go.¡± He prompts a reenactment of their conversation from earlier that evening. ¡°Oh, I haven''t forgotten.¡± Alex shoots a pointed look at him, encompassing his continued presence beside her. ¡°I¡¯m not going to kill you.¡± she says after a beat, eyes trained forward fervently in concession to the discomfort they both seem to be radiating. ¡°Even if you decide you longer feel the need to bother me.¡± Akio relaxes at the assurance, shoulders slumping as the weight of an imagined threat lifts from his shoulder. He nods at her when she finally tears her gaze away from the dawning horizon, to look at him. ¡°Where are we going exactly?¡± he asks, trying to initiate small talk. Alex sighs exasperatingly. ¡°Just walk, Akio.¡±
A bowling ball lands on the wooden floor with a thud, rolling crookedly before teetering into the gutter at the last minute. Alex groans frustratingly, feet stomping petulantly on her trek to grab another ball. Akio sits nearby, legs crossed and propped up on the table in front of him. His chair is angled in a dangerous slant as he laughs hard, and Alex has half a mind to lob the ball in her hand at a chair leg. ¡°What are you doing?¡± He asks in between wiping non-existent tears from his eyes. ¡°What does it look like? I''m bowling.¡± Alex squeezes an eye shut, tongue lolling out the side of her mouth in thorough concentration, as she calculates the force needed to properly swing her ball. Akio takes in her pose and cackles all over again. ¡°God forbid. Let me rephrase the question. What do you think you''re doing?¡± She swings the arm holding the ball back and forth to build momentum. ¡°Screw you, Akio.¡± She finally lets it go and it bounces, heading once more for the gutters. Alex frowns. ¡°I''m convinced these balls are sentient, and for some reason, they hate me.¡± ¡°More wrist, less head.¡± And she bets he thought he sounded like Sun Tzu with that idiotic hint. ¡°I add any more wrist, and the balls will be tearing right through the building.¡± Akio gets up to join her, grabbing a ball. ¡°It''s not rocket science, Alex.¡± He spins the stupid ball on the tip of his pointer finger like it weighs nothing. ¡°You simply aim and toss.¡± He tosses, his ball clearing every last pin. Alex grumbles suspiciously. ¡°Okay, you cheated. I just need to figure out how.¡± ¡°You can''t cheat at bowling.¡± He says amusedly, taking one look at her shoes and scowling. ¡°Those aren''t even bowling appropriate shoes.¡± ¡°Like I''d put my feet in one of those disgusting things.¡± She snorts, snatching a ball from the pile. ¡°And you wonder why you can''t play.¡± Akio dips his hands in his pockets, watching her stretch unnecessarily. ¡°Why exactly did you suggest this again?¡± ¡°I can so play. It has nothing to do with the shoes. It''s this place, the ground doesn''t seem level.¡± She glowers daggers at the inanimate lanes. ¡°Remember when you tried teaching me to shoot a gun?¡± he says, eyes clouding over in fond remembrance. ¡°No.¡± Alex answers, the slight twitch in her right eye giving away the fact that she did remember. Akio smiles. ¡°Wonderful, I''ll remind you. You made me stand outside by myself, for 7 hours. You wouldn''t let me eat, till a bullet hit one of those wretched bottles.¡± ¡°I have no idea what you''re talking about. Such angst at something that took place centuries ago. You need to get rid of all that, and make space in your heart for love.¡± She says sweetly and tosses yet another ball. This one somehow going in the opposite direction. Alex and Akio wince in tandem at the loud crash and scattered complaints that accompany. ¡°Oh crap!¡± ¡°Sorry!¡± An angry attendant walks up to her, forcefully thrusting the ball in her stomach before leaving with a huff. ¡°Really sorry.¡± Alex says. ¡°It''s hilarious how awful you are at this.¡± Akio says amusedly. ¡°At least I hit a bottle, even if it was by accident.¡± ¡°No, you shot me in the head, and I died. What''s worse is, in spite of all that, you still don''t know how to aim a gun.¡± She thrusts the ball at his stomach in turn, and he doubles over in pain. ¡°Aha!¡± He wheezes, before devolving into a coughing fit. ¡°I thought you didn''t remember?¡± ¡°I don''t think anyone could forget a gunshot to the head.¡± She responds drily, before stomping away to grab a fresh ball from the pile. Akio shakes his head at her severe pettiness, gaze falling to the ball she had left in his arms. He bites the bullet and deposits it neatly on the stack. ¡°Since you obviously remember that day, remember what you told me? You said to let go of whatever it was I had twisted up inside me. At the time, I was sulking about my mother''s death.¡± He says upon his return. Alex pauses mid swing to preen at Akio''s statement. ¡°That is some Mr Miyagi shit. I said that?¡± She asks excitedly. ¡°Of course, there were no Karate Kids then.¡± He responds. ¡°Jesus, I was smart.¡± Akio sighs in deep resignation. How extremely in character for Alex to retain the unimportant bits in a given piece of information. ¡°Just toss the damn ball. Remember, first clear your mind, then toss.¡± ¡°I should conk you over the head with this damn thing.¡± She jiggles the ball. ¡°Repay the favor.¡± ¡°Will you let it go, it was an accident!¡± ¡°I know, which is why I''ll ''accidentally'' conk you in payback too.¡± She says, taking a deep breath and tossing the ball. The ball glides convincingly for a couple of seconds, teetering into the gutter at the last slide. ¡°Witchcraft!¡± Alex announces loudly, drawing the angry attention of all the other patrons present. ¡°Okay what the actual hell? That ball should have knocked down 2 pins at least.¡± Akio inches a cautious foot forward, swiping it suspiciously across the lane. ¡°I told you the balls knew what they were doing!¡± She whispers conspiratorially, waving a crazed hand at the untouched pins ahead of them. Akio is inclined to agree. ¡°No, no, I agree, that was sus as hell.¡± ¡°I have no idea what that means, but all this bowling has worked up my appetite.¡± She stretches her arms above her head in her shuffle to their table. ¡°That''s it? You didn''t even bowl jack shit.¡± Akio says, dropping into his seat. Alex frowns, feet propping on the table in mirror of his earlier pose. ¡°Mind your language. And I swung, okay? Swinging takes energy.¡± ¡°I can''t believe you dragged me all the way out here to watch you feed the gutter.¡± ¡°Like you didn''t have any fun.¡± ¡°I might have, if we didn''t have other pressing matters?¡± Akio raises a questioning brow, the tail end of his statement produced from behind clenched teeth. The action seems to annoy the hell out of Alex. ¡°Jesus!¡± She explodes. ¡°When was the last time you had a timeout Akio? Work, work, work; worry, worry, worry.¡± He rears up in attention. ¡°Alex, you realize we''re talking about your brain, your health?!¡± ¡°I''m not dying today, or anytime soon. I''ve had plenty of opportunities to do that, and I waved them all goodbye.¡± She tsks. Akio groans long-suffering, eyes lifting to the sky in petition to a higher power. ¡°Just please let me check you? It¡¯ll hardly take any time.¡± ¡°I''m hungry. Where can one get a nice meal in New Jersey?¡± Akio rakes a frustrated hand over his face, clearly understanding her ploy. ¡°You''re going to keep ignoring me till you get what you want, aren''t you?¡± ¡°Can we get New York pizza in New Jersey? I''ve always wanted to try New York pizza, see what all the fuss is about.¡± Her eyes dart around the establishment, as if expecting a random carton of New York pizza to be lying about. Akio sighs. ¡°After eating, I get to examine you?¡± She rears up to a proper sitting position, dropping her feet from the table with a thud. ¡°Done.¡± Akio stands. ¡°I know just the place.¡± Chapter 9 1778 ¡­ Akio lands on his butt with a yelp, his hands flying up to bat away the dust cloud his graceless landing formed. Eyes flit from the wooden pole on the floor beside him, to Alex, full toothed smug smile on her face, and similar pole in hand. He rises with a pained grunt, dusty from head to toe. He reaches for his pole. ¡°You having fun?¡± Alex exhales in extreme satisfaction. ¡°Lots.¡± Akio tempers the frustration itching to spew from his lips. ¡°Look, not to ruin your idea of a good time; but you said you were going to teach me to fight. So far you''ve been beating the shit out of me, and I''ve learned nothing.¡± He says, panting hard. Alex studies him for a moment, pole twirling lazily in one hand. The smug smile is still in place, but her head is tilted to the side tacitly now. ¡°Actually, I said we were going to find someone to teach you to fight. It''s not my fault we didn''t find anyone.¡± ¡°So what, you''re just going to keep pummeling me repeatedly until I catch something?¡± He chuffs. ¡°And you said you weren''t learning anything.¡± She smirks, driving the pole steady into the ground with one impressive swoop. She steps away from the upright pole, encouraging Akio to attack her with a motion of her fingers. ¡°Again. I won¡¯t even use the stick this time.¡± Akio sighs, it was a futile attempt. He closes the gap between them anyway. He swings the stick at her and she sidesteps it with elegance, arms folded behind her back. ¡°Plant your feet, and protect your face.¡± She tutors calmly while her body bobs and weaves, deftly maneuvering his attacks. ¡°Serious issue the face part, ''cause that''s really all you''ve got going for you.¡± Her open palm circles an invisible frame around his face. He rankles. ¡°Where did you learn all this?¡± He pants, pole in hand flying every which way to try and land a hit, growling when he doesn''t. Alex grabs the pole mid strike, wrenching it from him effortlessly before sweeping the ground from under his feet. Once again Akio is back on his bum, head falling back onto the dusty ground in equal parts pain and frustration. ¡°Also, try not to ask your opponents personal questions. In a real fight that would be even more incentive to kill you.¡± Alex tosses the pole to the side with a bored sigh, moving forward to bend into his line of sight. ¡°This is boring now. On to lesson 2.¡± She steps over him dismissively, and He would be gravely insulted if his ass didn¡¯t hurt something fierce. ¡°I thought lesson 2 was ¡®Don''t die¡¯?¡± He groans. Alex shrugs. ¡°On to lesson 3 then.¡± She reaches out her hand to help him off his sprawl. He takes it. He does a couple of stretches once he¡¯s up, grunting in satisfaction at the popping of joints. He turns to Alex with a wince. ¡°You-you''re bleeding.¡± He gestures around his own nose, guilty look taking over his face. He didn¡¯t realize he had clipped her. She tsks knowingly, producing a pristine white handkerchief to wipe the blood. ¡°I didn''t realize I tagged you.¡± He swipes the dust off his clothes as best as he can, lifting to find Alex has disappeared. He whirls to and fro, pivoting fully to find her striding off the opposite way without a word. Alex hums an old tune, fingers working deftly to assemble a pistol. The tune is one of the first things she ever learnt, albeit having no inkling of the true origins of the song. She recalls the faint outlines of a figure lulling her to sleep with the song, face coming up a blank slate each time she tries to focus on the profile. The sound of sand crumbling under boots pulls her from her trance, quickly dismissing the melancholic mood as soon as she spies Akio approaching. Her casual nonchalant mask slipping back into place. ¡°Is your nose okay?¡± Akio asks worriedly. ¡°Perfect.¡± She assuages. Akio nods gently, gaze zeroing in on the gun in her grasp. ¡°What is that?¡± He queries, hackles raised for some reason. She raises the items in her hand one after the other, leaning in to address him like one would address an inquisitive child. ¡°Gun. Rounds.¡± Akio scoffs at the slighting demeanor. ¡°I know what it is.¡± His eyebrows knit together in offense. ¡°You want me to fire a gun?¡± ¡°Yes. Hence the presence of the gun.¡± Alex responds caustically, and Akio shrugs. ¡°You might need it to shoot me.¡± She makes a wistful sound in her throat, twisting around to look at him. ¡°Don''t tempt me.¡± She snaps the chamber shut, giving it an adept spin before relinquishing the loaded gun to Akio, grip facing him. ¡°Here.¡± ¡°I can''t take this.¡± Akio steps back, hands raised in a shield. Alex moues, eyes raking over the gun in search of what she missed. She finds nothing amiss. ¡°What''s wrong with it?¡± Her eyes whip up to inquire from him. ¡°It-It¡¯s a gun! I don''t like killing people or violence in general.¡± He sputters. Alex stares stupefied for a second, left eye twitching nearly shut in a bewildered squint. ¡°Didn''t you blast a guy ten feet across the street?¡± ¡°That was necessary self defense!¡± Akio demurs. ¡°Consider this necessary gun violence then.¡± She clocks the look on his face, demanding she elaborate. ¡°You might not like killing other people, but believe me when I tell you, other people want to kill you.¡± ¡°Why? They don''t even know me.¡± ¡°No one cares, it''s a simple survival tactic; Kill or be killed.¡± She thrusts the gun into his hands, Akio fumbling briefly to get a proper hold on it. ¡°It-It''s heavy.¡± He stammers, canting the gun away from him like it might bite. Alex takes a quick minute to wonder what she must have done to deserve her current predicament. Too many things to choose from. She positions him a good distance away from a wall, where she had set up some empty glass bottles beforehand. ¡°Aim at the bottles, please.¡± She instructs, willing away the frustrated crack that was about to strain through. ¡°You say ''please'' a lot.¡± Akio says, the gun still angled away from him. Alex could feel the eye twitch that heralded the swift decline of her patience. ¡°Then I''ll stop.¡± She responds, hoisting the gun, with his hand closed whitely around it to firing level. ¡°Shoot.¡± Akio squeezes the trigger tentatively, flinching each time he fired a shot and missing every last bottle. ¡°I''m awful at this.¡± He grumbles after the fact. No shit. Alex snorts at the obvious, hand scratching at her chin in consideration. ¡°You did hit everything. Just ... not the bottles.¡± She says finally, some half-assed attempt at reassurance that she''s certain Akio doesn¡¯t buy. ¡°Yeah, I''m going to fucking die out here.¡± He says self-deprecatingly. ¡°Oh, don''t say that.¡± Alex chastises. ¡°We could move the targets closer, start from there. Also we¡¯re going to have to put an end to the swearing. I''ve never raised a child before ¡­¡± Akio immediately grouses vehemently at the use of the word ¡®child¡¯, Alex continuing to talk over him. ¡°... But I''m pretty sure you''re not supposed to be allowed to swear.¡± She finishes, her voice much louder than when she started. She moves Akio a few steps toward the table, hands firm on his clothed shoulders. His grumbling is in full force now. ¡°--I am a hundred and thirty-eight, I¡¯ll have you know!¡± He croaks. ¡°You¡¯ll always be a child to me.¡± Akio seethes, she trudges on. ¡°Besides you look fifteen. I''m not saying that''s a bad thing, obviously you have excellent genes. But, to the outside world, I''m going to look like a horrible person if I just let you about, cursing unhinged.¡± Akio mutters indistinctly under his breath, the slumping of his shoulders visualizing his reluctant concession. Alex gives him an encouraging pat, gesturing to the spare bullets strewn about the wooden tabletop. ¡°Reload the gun.¡± ¡°I don''t know how to do that.¡± Akio says, a hint of discontent still present. ¡°You''re one hundred and thirty-eight, you don''t know how to load a gun?¡± She asks befuddled. ¡°Technically, I''m turning a hundred and thirty-nine this year.¡± He corrects. Alex crosses her arms, head shaking in even deeper bewilderment. ¡°I don''t see how that is helping your case.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve never had the need to load one before, alright?¡± ¡°Right. You poor, sheltered bread bun, you.¡± She taunts, ¡°But I loaded that gun right in front of you.¡± Akio offers a small shrug. ¡°I didn''t know you wanted me to pay attention.¡± ¡°Why the fuck else would I load it in front of you, when I could have just handed it to you loaded?¡± He flinches at the thunderous tone, arms coming up to wrap around his torso. And Alex has the strenuous task of stopping herself from apologizing. It was for his own good. ¡°Okay, the swearing rule has to go both ways.¡± He rallies after a slight step away from her. ¡°It''s not pleasant when someone else says it to you, knowing you can''t say it right back.¡± He stammers out, looking a bit torn between seeing things through and simply bolting. Bolting was out of the question, he wouldn''t get very far on his own. ¡°Focus Akio!¡± Alex smacks her hand against the table, jostling everything on it and him. ¡°Load the gun.¡± ¡°Alex, I''m telling you I don''t know how to!¡± He yells, rearing back instantly at his own ferocity. Perhaps he wasn''t completely a lost cause yet. Alex surveys him for a couple of moments, numerous strategies to ensure his continued survival flitting through her mind. She pushes off her tilt on the table, stepping into his space, just a hair''s breadth away from his face to stare the fear of herself into his eyes. He whines low in his throat, she doubts it was intentional. The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. ¡°You''re not coming in, until you''ve loaded that gun, and shot down at least one bottle.¡± She points, Akio following her pointer finger to the glass bottles still sat untouched on the low wall where they were propped. She smiles sadistically as he gulps loud, only turning to leave once she''s certain her words had gotten through to his understanding. ¡°Wait, where are you going?¡± Akio asks, in some fit of masochism or fear of being abandoned. ¡°Inside.¡± She answers, putting distance between them. ¡°To have a meal.¡± ¡°I''m hungry too.¡± He whispers, it was not his fault she could hear him. ¡°You are?¡± She sees him flinch at the fact that she did hear. ¡°Well you better get to shooting then. No bullet through a bottle, no food. And if you cheat, I''ll know.¡± She turns to continue her walk away. ¡°This has to be some form of Child Abuse.¡± He laments to himself. She was definitely too far away to have heard that one normally. Then again no one had ever accused her of being subtle. ¡°You''re almost a hundred and thirty-nine!¡± Shey ells back without turning. She would let him come up with theories of how she was able to hear his borderline internal monologue from almost 12 feet away.
Akio discreetly wipes¨Cwhat realizes belatedly is a drop of blood off his nose with his sleeves. Thanking whatever deity was responsible for him choosing a dark colored jacket today. He retracts his hands from the sides of Alex''s head with a silent hiss, allowing the purple glow in his palms to fade. He had been at this futilely for half an hour¨Cthe inconspicuous booth they had chosen at the far end of the restaurant granting him cover from prying eyes. The empty plates on their table in front of him mock his ineffectiveness, Alex''s presence itself the only thing stopping him from blasting the ceramic to irreconcilable bits. ¡°Did you fall asleep back there?¡± Alex tilts sideways to glance up at him. Just then reminding him he had been stood behind her for an uncomfortable while now. ¡°Have you ever heard of a Brain Hemorrhage?¡± He asks, the only thing he had been able to diagnose in the wasted 30 minutes. ¡°Oh, I caused a couple of those back in the day. Heyyo!¡± Alex remarks in some twisted form of nostalgia. Reaching a hand out for him to meet in a high five. He fixes her with his best icy stare. Rolling his eyes when she instead slaps her other hand against her rejected one in a self high five. ¡°Yes I know what it means.¡± She says after her general display of mild insanity. ¡°Please continue.¡± Akio returns to his seat. ¡°You had that sometime last night. You''re lucky your blood vessels can regenerate themselves.¡± He tells her, eternally grateful for her regenerative abilities. ¡°What do you suppose could''ve caused it?¡± She says after a moment. ¡°I don''t know. Did you hit your head?¡± ¡°Nothing that could realistically cause me a brain bleed.¡± she drums her fingers on the table. ¡°Chris did say there was a strange weather thing that night.¡± Whatever it was probably didn''t get to Jersey. ¡°I didn''t notice.¡± She shrugs. ¡°Me neither, but I''ll look into it.¡± ¡°Please get on it as soon as possible.¡± He says, ¡°I''d really appreciate it if you didn''t die.¡± He watches a grin stretch slowly across her face, instantly regretting his audible show of concern. ¡°Aw, you''re worried about me?¡± She is smiling maniacally now, all teeth and very little substance. ¡°I''m not worried about you. Do you know how long it''ll take me to find a new ... long-lasting person I can actually stand?¡± He says, eyes darting to and fro. ¡°The ones I already know are total prisses. Also there''s Chris who of course who would be devastated.¡± Alex simply raises an eyebrow, grin not abating in the slightest. She snags a fork from the table, gesturing rapidly with it. ¡°Look at that crinkle between your brows. That''s your ¡®worried¡¯ crinkle.¡± He scoffs. He did not have a crinkle. He had checked this morning. ¡°I don''t have a crinkle, I barely age¨C¡± A waiter clears his throat noisily beside them, prompting them to turn to him. ¡°--thanks to proper ¡­ uh ¡­¡± he clears his throat, mind working overdrive for an excuse. ¡°Skin care.¡± Alex snickers evilly to the consternation of the waiter. Akio tosses his napkin at her to get her to stop. Of course she catches it neatly. The waiter turns to him instead, rightfully flagging her as a lost cause. ¡°Will you and your wife be needing anything else, sir?¡± Akio sighs. He was doing so well. ¡°She¡¯s my sister.¡± He corrects, to Alex¡¯s growing amusement. ¡°No love, that''ll be all.¡± She interjects. ¡°Check please.¡± The waiter gives a little bow before leaving. ¡°Why do you never correct people when that happens?¡± He asks as soon as the young man is out of earshot. ¡°And miss that horrified look on your face? My only regret is the fact that you weren''t mid swallow when he said it.¡± She muses. He purposely takes a sip of his wine, flipping her off with his free hand. She raises a brow. ¡°Moved to Jersey and lost your manners, I see.¡± ¡°Like you''re any better.¡± he replies, finger still set in the offensive gesture. ¡°At least I don''t display obscene gestures in expensive 5 star restaurants.¡± She tilts her head towards a table where a woman is glaring daggers at him. He sheepishly retracts his finger with a soft curse. Alex cackles. ¡°Dickhead.¡± ¡°Stew about it.¡± ¡°Shut up.¡± He relaxes in his seat. ¡°When are you leaving?¡± ¡°Tomorrow. Right now, I need a cold shower and Netflix.¡± She rests an elbow on the table, free hand twirling the fork about. He hums. ¡°And sleep?¡± ¡°I''ll take whatever it gives me.¡± She says. ¡°Funny enough, yesterday was the best sleep I''ve had in 2500 years. Brain hemorrhaging aside.¡± His eyebrows scrunch in concern, not at all caring if Alex decides to mock him for it again. ¡°Call me if anything changes. I don''t care what time it is, if there''s a problem, call.¡± Alex opens her mouth to reply, but the waiter arrives with the check. Akio clocks the admiration with which he now looks at Alex. What in the body snatchers? ¡°Halfsies?¡± He asks, eyes darting dubiously to the excited waiter as he reaches in his pocket for his wallet. Alex bats him away. ¡°Nah, I pulled you out of work, I got it.¡± She retrieves the appropriate number of bills from her wallet, laying them neatly on the table. ¡°You''re Alex Jordan aren''t you?¡± The waiter addresses her, after having vibrated enough. ¡°Yes, I am.¡± Alex answers hesitantly. ¡°I love your book.¡± He says, eyes blinking rapidly in awe. Alex shoots him a genuine smile. ¡°Thank you.¡± ¡°My boyfriend and I read it every night. It helps our sex drive.¡± The man barrages, not caring in the slightest when Akio chokes on his drink. Alex''s eyebrows furrow in confusion. ¡°It''s a fictional biography about a demigod?¡± She asks. There goes Akio''s hope of her putting an end to this unorthodox line of discussion. ¡°Oh I know.¡± The waiter perks up. ¡°We actually like to role play¨C¡± ¡°Okay son,¡± Since the honors had fallen to Akio¨C ¡°T-M-I.¡± The waiter shoots him a spiteful glare, promptly returning his focus to Alex. ¡°Can I get an autograph?¡± He asks. Alex obliges, patting herself down in search for a pen. ¡°Uh, I don''t¨C¡± ¡°I have a pen. I''ll be back in a bit.¡± He scurries away from the table, bills in hand. ¡°I think I forgot to tip.¡± Alex muses out loud. ¡°Typical Alex, saving people''s sex lives.¡± He leans over to Alex side of the table to retrieve his balled up napkin. ¡°I am confused as hell, but overall happy to help.¡± Akio chuckles softly, dabbing the spilled drink off him. His gratitude for the dark jacket increases. ¡°Oh look,¡± Alex looks bereft, ¡°you finally choked and I couldn''t even enjoy it.¡± The waiter appears beside them with a pen, and a very worn copy of Alex''s book. ¡°Oh, you weren''t kidding about reading it every night.¡± Akio angles his head at the dog-eared pages. ¡°It is a good read.¡± He says sheepishly, and Akio¡¯s gaze flit over the man. ¡°Almost like it''s told from a first hand experience.¡± Alex clears her throat noisily, plucking the outstretched pen to sign the book. Akio folds his lips, biting back a smile, watches her hand the pen and signed book back to the young man. ¡°Sorry about mistaking both of you for a couple earlier.¡± He accepts the book, cradling it to his chest. ¡°It''s no problem at all.¡± She leaves a few extra notes than is necessary on the table. ¡°I forgot to tip that time.¡± She explains to the wide eyed waiter, lifting off her seat with a small smile. ¡°Th-Thank you.¡± The man stammers out dumbfounded, reaching to swipe the bills as soon as they leave the table. Alex deeply inhales the crisp night air, face upturned to the moon. There was a 37% chance Akio would forgo the little incident from the restaurant, and grant her the much needed moment of silence she had been searching for since the Ice Cream incident. She could already hear him chuckling to himself as they weaved through the parked cars towards his own. ¡°So, first hand experience?¡± He says as soon as they spot his BMW. She sighs, dismissing her wishful thinking. ¡°For the record, that book was your idea.¡± Akio leans over the roof of the car. ¡°Your diary was sitting there¨C¡± ¡°I do not own a diary¨C¡± His voice gets louder. ¡°Your diary was sitting there gathering dust, its pages crumbling each time you picked it up. You should be thanking me for keeping your memoirs alive.¡± He finishes, pointer finger wagging at her. ¡°And now people are reading it to get off, apparently.¡± She jostles the door handle, which for some reason is still locked. ¡°Alexandria Jessica Jordan. Sex Therapist.¡± He fiddles with the car key, sinister smile dancing across his face. ¡°That''s not my name.¡± She jiggles the door handle even harder, eyebrows flying up in allusion to the still locked door. ¡°You don''t like it?¡± He asks, pretending not to see or hear her request. Alex lets her forehead drop to the roof of the car with a thud. ¡°I will find you a middle name that you appreciate.¡± He promises, the chirp signalling an open door, music to Alex''s ears. She enters swiftly, seat belt already buckled by the time Akio is sliding in in turn. ¡°By the way I need to call Chris, he is going to love this story.¡± He says, his own seatbelt clicking into place. ¡°I''m never going to live this down, am I?¡± She asks, the cool hum of the car engine sending tingles down her spine. ¡°Not as long as we''re alive, no. And we''re immortal, Alex.¡± Akio cackles briefly. Then. ¡°Your hotel?¡± ¡°Yes please.¡± The car screeches in place, before jolting out of the parking lot, into the quiet road.
1788 ¡­ ¡°Stupid gun!¡± Akio screams in frustration as he misses yet again another target. He lifts his hand to his head, allowing the length of the gun barrel to rest along the side of his head. If he could crack even one bottle, he was going to pack it up and call it a day. ¡°Good practice?¡± He hears from behind and whirls swiftly, gun poised to fire at a moments notice. He exhales when he sees it''s only Alex. ¡°Are you crazy?¡± He asks. ¡°You don''t sneak up on someone holding a gun, I could have shot you!¡± He wiggles the contraption in her face, articulating the point. ¡°Sure.¡± Alex snorts derisively, crossing her hands behind her. ¡°Progress report.¡± ¡°I loaded the gun, almost shot myself in the foot, and have been firing at glass bottles for 4 hours now!¡± He lists angrily. Alex raises a brow at him, eyes skating to the untouched bottles on the wall, then back to him. ¡°No, you''ve been firing at something, I don''t know what, but it''s definitely not those bottles.¡± ¡°This is amusing to you?¡± Akio''s eyes narrow in challenge, and he swears he sees a brief flicker of pride flash through her face. There one second, gone the next. ¡°You have no idea.¡± She says combatively, and snatches the gun from him. Eyes never straying from his own, she fires two shots at the targets without looking. The loud smashes that follow after both shots, implying success. Her trigger finger spins the gun fluidly, stopping abruptly with the grip hanging out at Akio. Damn she was good. ¡°Now you''re just showing off.¡± In his defense, he never said he was going to tell her. ¡°Look. You''re thinking too much.¡± She says. ¡°Just point and shoot.¡± Did she just¨C? ¡°What do you think I''ve been doing the past 6 hours?!¡± ¡°I thought it was 4?¡± ¡°Who cares, Alexandria?!¡± ¡°Alex.¡± She corrects, ¡°And, I do. A little bit. Someday firing a gun might be the only thing keeping you from living your very long ¡­ immortal, fruitful¨CI don''t know¨Clife.¡± ¡°Come on, take the gun.¡± She jerks it towards him, and he takes it. ¡°Just let it all out.¡± She breathes deeply, gesturing for him to do the same. ¡°Whatever it is that you have all twisted up in knots inside you, let it out.¡± He inhales and exhales with her. ¡°Now point at those bottles and put a hole through them.¡± Akio takes another deep breath, aims at a target and fires. The bullet whizzes forward almost in slow motion, grazing the side of a bottle. It stumbles, tipping over for a bit, before landing back in its original position. Alex shrugs. ¡°I call improvement.¡± ¡°Oh, come on!¡± Akio tosses the gun to the floor. It goes off, the bullet hitting a shovel leaning beside a shed¨Cricocheting back to smash through one of the bottles and hit Alex square in the forehead. Alex falls to the floor hard. Stiff and glass eyed. Dead. Akio drops to his knees on the floor beside her immediately, cradling her lifeless head in his lap. ¡°Oh God! No, no, no, no, no. Alex. Hey, hey.¡± He flinches at the gun beside them, reaching for it and tossing it far away from reach. ¡°Please don''t leave me.¡± Akio buries his face and begins to sob. The bullet pops out of her head, clattering to the ground. The injury stitching closed as it exits. She wakes up with a gasp. Dracula style, startling the living shit out of Akio. ¡°Jesus!¡± He scrambles away from her, kicking up a sandstorm. Her hand flies to the spot on her head where a bloody hole should be. ¡°Ooooooooooow!¡± She yowls, fingers prodding at the bloody, but otherwise unblemished spot. ¡°What is going on!¡± Akio yells in fear, hands flying up to shield himself from her, ¡°How are you alive?!¡± Alex twists to face him, only just realizing his presence. She glowers furiously. ¡°The bloody bottles were the target, not my face! ¡°How the hell is this happening?!¡± ¡°You tell me, you shot me!¡± Alex yells back, fury ebbing away once she takes in the panicked look on his face. ¡°Are you crying?¡± She asks. ¡°Yes! Yes, I¡¯m crying! You died!¡± Akio screams at her. ¡°No I didn''t.¡± She says calmly. And Akio can''t help the deranged laughter that escapes him. ¡°There was a bullet in your forehead, I''m pretty sure you did.¡± He pants, chest rising and falling heavily. Alex looks to the side for a bit, lips pursed in a thoughtful pout. ¡°Oh, well.¡± She lifts up the dirt, swiping off as much of it as she can off her clothes. Akio stares poleaxed. ¡°That''s it? That''s all you have to say on the issue?¡± He asks, confused at the sudden exasperation settling in him. Alex halts her intense swiping to squint at him. ¡°I''m sorry you thought I died?¡± She has the gall to look bewildered. Her gaze shifts to the bottle debris on the floor. ¡°Oh look, you hit one. Dinner time.¡± Akio rankles at the blas¨¦ way she says it, lips lifting to an angry curl. If he hadn''t been the one who shot her, he would have called bullshit on the entire thing, based on how nonchalant she was being about her very recent death! ¡°Just forget the damn bottle, Alex!¡± He stands to his feet, arms crossed resolutely. ¡°I think I at least deserve an explanation.¡± A beat where they both stare unwavering at each other, neither choosing to back down first. To Akio''s surprise, he wins, Alex finally turning away from the staredown with a sigh. ¡°Can I explain inside?¡± She says, ¡°At least there''s food in there.¡± ¡°Fuck you, Alex.¡± He blurts at her before storming past her towards the house. The echo of her exuberant laughter causes some sort of relief to wash over him, as does the next thing she yells after him. ¡°Ah, we''re not supposed to use that kind of language anymore!¡± Chapter 10 ¡°¡®Plah-stik May-nuh-fac-tu-ring Plant¡¯.¡± Nod enunciates, brows knitting together in confusion before he says to Kyp¨C ¡°What does that mean?¡± They had commandeered an airport taxi and given him the coordinates to the crystal. The taxi stopping in front of a decrepit facility was an unforeseen occurrence. ¡°Of course you ask the person who traveled light years with you to be here.¡± Kyp shoots Nod a stink eye, and Nod wrinkles. ¡°Do not nag Kyp, you are the only one of us who has been here before.¡± Nelzux joins the conversation, eyes darting about the large building, probing for flaws and weaknesses. ¡°Earth.¡± Kyp corrects, head swiveling between the two men on each side of him. ¡°I have been on Earth before. Not a building that just so happens to be a Plant.¡± He waves a hand about, encapsulating the structure in front of them. Nod flinches at the loud blare of a car horn. The three of them pivoting to find their airport taxi driver still parked, his expression a dangerous thing. ¡°Who¡¯s gonna pay me my money, gents?¡± The driver asks, eyes fearless in their swift dart from one man to the next. Nelzux tosses the man a hefty wad of cash¨Che had stolen from a passenger on the plane beforehand¨Cthe driver sparing only a single second to gape at the excess amount, before driving off in a cloud of dust, his middle finger hefted up and waving goodbye from outside the side window. ¡°Humans,¡± Nod spits, first at the driver then at the facility in front, ¡°their cruelty knows no bounds. No vegetation deserves this, no matter its wrongdoings.¡± He bows his head in reverence at the clumps of grass around them. Nelzux pulls out the scanner from his back pocket, ignoring his comrade''s lamentations. ¡°The signal is strong here.¡± He swings the device around, relishing the rapid beeps it emits. ¡°I can almost taste the energy.¡± A security camera sits at the far left side, lens zooming in in focus. The General walks into the tense room, eyes swiveling about to catalog every image displayed on the numerous large monitors in the room. ¡°What¡¯s the problem?¡± He asks. ¡°These men showed up a couple of minutes ago, sir.¡± A plain clothed officer supplies, finger tapping on the tiny men on the normal-sized monitor. The General moves closer to the monitor with a squint, watching the men converse. ¡°What have they been doing so far?¡± He retrieves a pair of reading glasses from his breast pocket, his squint lessening some once his spectacles are in place. ¡°Nothing sir, just standing and talking. The handsomer fellow there whipped out some sort of metal detector from his back pocket, but that was it.¡± The CSO answers, with a gesture at the one in ripped jeans. ¡°Do you think they''re aware of what''s going on in here?¡± The General asks. The CSO shrugs, hands coming to rest on his hips. ¡°Well if they are, they don''t seem to be doing much about it.¡± The General nods tentatively, eyes returning to narrow at the moving images on the monitor, as if willing it to suddenly combust. Nod bounces impatiently on the balls of his feet, watching Nelzux scan every inch of the Plant. Left to his own devices he would be standing atop a victorious rubble of the abhorrent dwelling by now, not surveying its workmanship. ¡°Why are we standing out here, like we require their permission to enter?¡± He rumbles. ¡°Brains before brawns Nod.¡± Nelzux answers, tucking the scanner back in his pocket. ¡°First we analyze, before we vanquish.¡± ¡°They are humans, we don''t need to study to know how to kill them. Just squeeze till they pop.¡± He clenches a raised fist, his knuckles cracking along in loud agreement. ¡°I am with Nelzux.¡± Kyp says, and Nod huffs. When was he ever not? ¡°Why would they keep something as powerful as a Xylon Crystal, in a plant turned building?¡± Nelzux''s eyebrows immediately furrow, eyes widening and then narrowing in severe offense. The onslaught of emotions causes Nod to scratch his head in contemplation. Things like these were why he was more comfortable on the battlefield. You didn''t have to know what your opponent was thinking before you unsheathed their bowels. ¡°Unless they have no idea what it is.¡± Nelzux says finally, eyes shifting ahead, from where a uniformed man is approaching them. ¡°I don''t mean to bother you fine gentlemen, but this place is restricted.¡± The uniformed man natters. Nelzux strides forward, leaving Kyp and Nod behind to meet the tiny man halfway. ¡°By whose orders exactly?¡± he asks. ¡°The Government of the United States of America.¡± The guard says. ¡°So uh, if you don''t mind exiting the property.¡± He gestures to the route they came from. ¡°Nod?¡± Nelzux says in disinterest, turning to Nod before waving a hand at the guard in front. Nod starts toward the security official with a sly smile. The security guard takes a reactionary position, hand flying to the primitive thing beside him that looks like a small blaster. ¡°That''s far enough, sir.¡± he instructs, hands flying into firing position, the blaster raised in his grip. ¡°This is for all the plants that have suffered tyranny from your kind.¡± Nod says, thick, large tentacles bursting out of his chest, to impale the CSO. The General averts his eyes from the monitors in pure disgust, gasps of fright echoing around him. ¡°Jesus.¡± He mutters. ¡°Lock the building down, now!¡± Lights and alarms begin to strobe and blare; external bulletproof doors dropping down all around the exterior of the building. Nelzux casts an amused look at the newly introduced external door. ¡°Look at them rally.¡± He says, palm resting on the solid steel. Nod dislodges his tentacles from the gaping hole in the dead man''s chest, sighing in completion as they retract back into his body, skin netting back seamlessly. ¡°Your turn, Nelzux.¡± ¡°Indeed.¡± Nelzux cracks his neck, left then right. His eyes igniting bright red, he starts to levitate, his feet gradually leaving the ground. Chris steps out of his office, face set in confusion. He eyes the packed hallway, lab coats and soldiers scurrying the entire length in what he identifies as panic. Ensuring his office door is locked, he shoves down the hallway himself, in search of the General. He rushes into the Security room, bumping into the transfixed General. ¡°Glenn! What in God''s name¨C?¡± He stops mid sentence as his eyes land on the monitor. ¡°For the sake of everyone here Chris, I hope you''ve brought good news.¡± The General addresses him, eyes still transfixed on the scene in front of them. ¡°Ah shit.¡± Chris cowers, as he watches Nelzux¨Cfrom the monitors, release an energy blast that violently rocks the building. Melted red metal sizzles, broken glasses crunching under the soles of the Aliens¡¯ shoes as they step into the building. An irritating noise blares throughout the interior, electric cables dangling from their place in the ceilings above. ¡°It is quiet.¡± Kyp says, and Nod wonders if his friend has gone deaf. ¡°I know. I do not like it.¡± Nelzux says, eyes on the lookout for movement. ¡°Kyp?¡± Kyp bows in pleasure. ¡°Of course.¡± Suddenly two other Kyps step out of the original, and scatter into different hallways. ¡°Signal when you find it.¡± Nelzux says to the original Kyp who nods and leaves. Nelzux and Nod proceed forward. Suspicious and alert. They barely walk three feet, when a unit of armed soldiers assemble. Their formation choreographed a thousand times, guns at the ready. The one in front yells something and they empty clip after clip, on Nod and Nelzux, mouths falling open in undignified gapes when the bullets dislodge from their bodies without so much as a drop of blood. Original Kyp takes cautious steps. Agonizing screams reaching him from the next hallway. He shakes his head in pity, Nod and Nelzux. He moves undaunted, as silently as he can, turning right and stopping in horror at the front of a room with transparent glass doors. ¡°By the gods!¡± he exclaims, pushing to enter into the room containing unspeakable abominations. A man appears from the corner, blood dripping from a cut above his eye, a strange blaster in hand aimed at Kyp. ¡°Right there''s fine.¡± Chris says, and Kyp glimpses his shaking grip on the contraption. Bearing it no mind, his eyes return to the crystal in the room. Raw energy emanating from it pooling to the ceiling. ¡°That will not work on me.¡± Kyp says finally. ¡°Please test me, so we can find out.¡± As far as Chris is concerned, it''s the conviction in his voice that finally gets Kyp to turn to him in acknowledgment. ¡°I did not come for you, human.¡± he says. Chris scoffs. ¡°I suppose you''re here for ¡®the Precious¡¯ then?¡± ¡°No, I am here for the crystal.¡± A confused frown settles on Kyp''s face. Chris squares his shoulders, letting his finger on the trigger power up the bulky blaster. ¡°Yea well, over my dead body.¡± ¡°And it will be so. Over the dead bodies of everyone on this planet, if you continue doing¨C¡± Kyp takes an almost fearful glance at the crude, half-finished experiments surrounding the crystal, ¡°--what it is you are doing.¡± ¡°What''s it to you?¡± Chris asks. Kyp straightens, a look¨Cthat Chris fondly recognizes as Akio''s lecturing look, settles across his face. ¡°That is a Xylon Crystal, the last of its kind. Discontinued across 10 galaxies, for being extremely unstable. So you can imagine our surprise when we located one, after almost 3000 years, here on Midgard.¡± This particular lecture left a bad taste in Chris'' mouth, not at all like Akio''s fond reprimands. ¡°How dangerous is it?¡± Chris mellows, gun powering down. ¡°That one crystal, at the rate it is going, can wipe out your entire Solar System, in 48 of your earth hours.¡± Kyp warns. There the foreboding of impending doom was. ¡°I told those idiots to stop with the probing.¡± Chris laughs without humor, glimpsing the confused look the Alien was giving him for talking to himself from the corner of his eye. ¡°So you''re here to retrieve it, save us?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Kyp swallows as he lies. ¡°Although, Midgard lacks the appropriate equipment for a successful ejection. Necessarily, we will have to take it off world.¡± Off world he could work with, off world meant away from Earth. Chris finally relaxes, his gun falling to his side. ¡°And if I help you, you''ll leave?¡± ¡°You have my word, as a Nekkarian.¡± Kyp finishes, extending an upturned hand. Chris peers into his palm, finding nothing. Kyp must notice his disappointment, for he explains¨C ¡°A Nekkarian''s word is his bond. A bond that cannot be broken.¡± Chris nods in understanding, hands outstretched and about to meet the Alien¡¯s when¨C Thwipp! A burst of blue light. Then blood. It spreads from a spot in Kyp''s chest, and he drops forward to the floor, revealing the General behind him. Gun similar to Chris'' own held proficiently in hand. ¡°What have you done?¡± Chris drops to the unconscious body on the floor, hands abandoning his gun, to staunch the bleeding. ¡°Secure him.¡± The General says in his ¡®bode no nonsense¡¯ voice. ¡°I''ll be back.¡± He strides out of the room without waiting for an answer. Chris busying himself with reviving their fallen potential ally. Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. Nelzux, Nod and two Kyp copies stand victorious over the dead soldiers sprawled out on the floor. Nod kicks unsatisfyingly at a particularly headless corpse. The fight had ended before he could properly savor the feel of being in battle once again, the humans perishing before he even had a proper grip on them. He does a little turn in inspection of the dead people strewn about. He didn''t even get to unsheath his tentacles for the fight. Nelzux opens his mouth to say something when suddenly, the two Kyp copies scream in agony before dissipating. Nod alerts. ¡°Kyp.¡± He says. Both Nelzux and Nod whipping around to find the General approaching them in misplaced bravery, brandishing a more acceptable version of a blaster in hand. Nod strides toward him preparing to attack, surely this promised a better fight. He is taken aback when Nelzux stops him, the human¡¯s sudden audacity throwing him off. ¡°Something is amiss.¡± Nelzux says, hand gripping his shoulder. Nod barely has time to complain, before the human fires the blaster just as Nelzux grabs a metal door, blocking the shot. It sends them flying through where the door was once situated, and they land deplorably on the ground. Nod scrambles for purchase on the sand, angling for a fight. He rises to his feet, tentacles peeking out in wait for the human who was nearly to them. The man steps out into the sun and Nod charges, Nelzux once again hindering him with a crushing grip. ¡°We must go!¡± Nelzux says. Nod hopes he hadn''t dented his head from when they fell. ¡°Kyp is still in there!¡± He balks, since the task of reminding Nelzux that they were supposed to be three fell to him. ¡°Now!¡± Nelzux says through grit teeth, grabbing Nod and lifting off to the sky, just as the human General fired his gun, missing them by a hair''s breadth.
Sometime before the Present ¡­ Alex bristles under the gaze of 75 people glowering in sync. She lets a slow wolfish smile, baring too many teeth spread across her face, the gum¨Cwhich coincidentally was the cause of the current state of affairs¨Cpeeking out the side of her clasped teeth. The Tour Guide takes a quick glance at the electronic tablet in her hands, eyes skating down the glossary of students present in search of her name. ¡°Alexandria.¡± She finds it, her head lifting up to regard Alex in irritation. Alex rears back at the numerous exaggerated reactions. For christ¡¯s sake all she did was smack gum! From the haughty stares she was currently receiving, one would think she pissed in a baby¡¯s cereal. She spits the chewed gum into her palm, making a theatrical show of binning it in the trash can beside her. Gum discarded, she lifts her empty hands in the air and does a quick turn, showcasing her present lack of anything bubble gum related. ¡°There, I¡¯m unarmed.¡± She drolls, pinching her lips in a bid to stave off a smile when the tour guide hisses at her, before resuming her incessant chattering. Alex lets herself get swept away by the shuffling horde as they move to another part of the workshop, slipping into her subconscious to tune out the monotone drone of the guide. Only jerking back to awareness when she hears a name she rather wished she hadn¡¯t. ¡°¡­ We¡¯re lucky, Mr Jordan himself just came in!¡± The Tour Guide stretches out a performative arm in welcome, and Chris Jordan enters. Dressed like your average Joe¨CIn khaki shorts and a Polo tee¨Cand not at all like one of the wealthiest men in America. He embraces the hostess to the applause of everyone present, except Alex, who was too busy panicking. ¡°I want to thank each and everyone of you, for taking the time to come here.¡± He turns to address the group of students that Alex was desperately trying to not be a part of. ¡°We at Jordan Industries are always happy to welcome bright and innovative minds ¡­¡± Alex bumps into another student in her silent retreat. The bellend choosing to make a spectacle of a simple shoulder brush, thus prompting Chris to look her way. His voice falters as his gaze lands on her in instant recognition. ~~~ ¡°What?¡± Chris gasps, eyes blinking rapidly to acclimate to the surrounding darkness. His chest is pressed excruciatingly into what he suspects is the mangled steering wheel, seatbelt biting into his left shoulder. He turns to a bloody, unconscious Lilian in the passenger seat beside him, her tousled hair informing him that they were angled upside down. The seatbelt tearing into his arm the only thing keeping him from dropping through the windshield into the blackness below. He groans in pain, instinctively reaching for his wife. ¡°Lilian? Hey, honey?¡± She lets out a pained whine, her eyes snapping open. ¡°Chris?¡± She moans, hands scrambling for purchase. ¡°What happened?¡± He stills her frenzied hands before she can unclick her seatbelt. ¡°I have a feeling we¡¯re gonna want to keep those on.¡± ~~~ Chris is snapped out of the memory by a polite cough from someone he can''t care to place at the moment. ¡°Um.¡± His eyes dart around unseeing for a moment and he lets out a puff of air. ¡°We''ve got souvenirs for each and every one of you, after the tour.¡± He claps his hands together, finishing awkward and abrupt. To his surprise, the students clap rather enthusiastically. He sidesteps the lady trying to get his attention for ¡­ something, and starts towards the gathering of students. Only making it halfway before a technician pulls him to the side to talk shop. ¡°An inspiring speech, as always from the man himself.¡± He hears the Tour Guide say, prompting another unneeded round of applause. Chris dislodges himself from the technician after promising his undivided attention to the eager man at a later time, interrupting the Tour Lady¡¯s¨Cprobably¨Cfiftieth speech of the week. ¡°Actually, why don''t you all come take a look at what we''ve got going on upstairs?¡± He says, eyes scanning the crowd for a particular head of short spiky hair. The students murmur excitedly at the offer, and he counts it as a win. His eyes finally land on his prospect¡¯s oscillating form, and he calms. He would have to work quickly, she looked ready to abscond at a moment¡¯s notice. ¡°I know it''s not part of the tour but, what the heck?¡± He finishes hurriedly, watches her pivot swiftly, in a haste to get the heck out of there. He gestures quickly to a security guard who rounds them up¨Cto the girl¡¯s chagrin¨C and shepherds them toward the stairs. ~~~ ¡°Can you move?¡± He asks Lilian. His eyes finally used to the darkness, he could make out her profile. ¡°I think my leg is broken.¡± Lilian sobs. ¡°How are we going to get out of this, Chris?¡± He tilts his head at a faint sound, hoping to God it was what he thought it was. ¡°I think I hear sirens.¡± ~~~ The students stand enthusiastically behind a two way glass mirror, gawking at the Solar Nuclear Accelerator in all its glory. Chris is in front, stroking the glass pane like a proud father. ¡°Behold.¡± He says all show, and Alex could gag. ¡°A Solar Accelerator. The first of its kind.¡± A hand shoots up from the crowd. Chris points to him. ¡°Is it finished?¡± A bespectacled know-it-all asks. ¡°Not yet. But we just had a breakthrough that could shave off a couple years of work.¡± Chris is saying, and Alex couldn¡¯t give two shits. She shuffles impatiently, her eyes darting to the exit and back. She needed to get out of here posthaste. If she got down on hands and knees, she could probably crawl out of here unnoticed. That left the issue of the burly security guard; a cakewalk on any other day that didn¡¯t involve a room full of people. ¡°That''s not right.¡± She blinks rapidly in confusion, the wide eyes of everyone on her, confirming that the objection had absent-mindedly come from her. ¡°Oh Jesus.¡± She whispers to herself. The heels of her palms digging into her eyes in a ploy to expel her utter stupidity. ¡°Excuse me?¡± The man who had interrupted Chris asks testily. She shrugs, in for a penny ¡­ ¡°The calculations are wrong." The room is thrown into muttered protests, a couple of students side-eyeing her. She thinks she catches four-eyes giving her the finger. The Technician squints at her tour guide ¡°Isn''t this a Third Year class? ¡°Uh-- we¨C¡± Tour guide loses the fight with her tongue. ¡°What makes you think they''re wrong?¡± He twists back to her, hands in his pocket as he regards her vaingloriously. Alex couldn¡¯t blame him, she had gotten herself into this particular mess. ¡°I calculated them,¡± She rebuts, ¡°they didn''t correspond.¡± ¡°I don''t see you with a pen or a book, when did you find the time to calculate them?¡± Her eyes flit to Chris who is stood to the side, jocular smile in place, as cavalier as can be. She narrows her eyes at him. ¡°In my head, as soon as he said them.¡± She replies to the technician, eyes not wavering from pinning Chris. The technician snorts. ¡°You calculated in 3 seconds, an equation that took almost 5 years to come up with?¡± The students snicker loudly, to Alex¡¯s annoyance. ¡°I know. It''s a wonder you still have your job.¡± She replies harshly, and hears Chris cackle softly. Echoes of ¡®ooh¡¯ fill the room, the man''s imperious facade shattering into a thousand pieces. He growls low in his throat before striding to a stop in front of her. Looking her dead in the eyes. ¡°Throw her out.¡± He grits. Thank God! The security guard grabs Alex violently, about to lug her out of the room. ¡°Now wait a minute, Jerome.¡± Chris says, and everyone turns to him. ¡°If she says it''s wrong, I''d at least like to hear what she thinks is correct.¡± He crosses his arms in interest, amusement still smeared all over his face. And it''s Alex''s turn to growl. The insulted technician¨CJerome turns to Chris in affront. ¡°Sir, do you really---?¡± ¡°She talks a big game.¡± Chris shrugs. ¡°Let''s see if she has the brains to match it.¡± Chris narrows his eyes at her, and she narrows hers right back, willing sudden combustion on his head. ~~~ Police cars and firetrucks are scattered on the bridge, a smouldering tanker and an ambulance idling by. An African-American Police officer approaches a perturbed Fireman. ¡°My man. What''s going on? When are we getting them out of there?¡± He asks The Fireman opens his mouth to say something, closes it. ¡°Truthfully, I don''t know that we can.¡± He settles on, eyes flicking over the side of the bridge to peer at the wreckage down below. The Policeman¡¯s hands fly up to scrub down his face. ¡°The car is just too far down for anyone to climb down, and attach a tow cable to it.¡± The fireman finishes. ¡°Can''t we air lift them out of there?¡± The policeman turns a beseeching eye to his associate. ¡°Closest helicopter for that is 600 miles out.¡± He responds sadly. ¡°That thing would most likely fall before it gets here, we''re working on a time constraint right now.¡± The Fireman and Policeman share a look of regret. ~~~ Chris studies the proffered sheet of paper in deafening silence. His eyes constantly skating from the paper to Alex. The calculations were solid, results promising. But theory was one thing, application was another. His eyes finally abandon the paper, focusing solely on Alex. Fingers clasped together in undisguised fascination. He hands the paper to Jerome who collects it with a disdainful smile. ¡°I''ll have her escorted out.¡± He says. ¡°Apply it.¡± Chris says, watching his collective staff splutter like buffoons. The man opens his mouth to object, but Chris halts him with a finger. ¡°Then turn it on.¡± ¡°What?¡± Jerome roars. ~~~ A Reporter pats her unruly hair into place, giving her Camera crew the okay signal to begin a live broadcast. The cameraman nods, counting down. ¡°We''re on in 3, 2 ¡­¡± She pulls on a solemn face. ¡°Over 45 minutes since the accident, and help still hasn''t¨C¡± The lady is interrupted by the glitching street lights, the ¡®recording¡¯ light on the Camera flickering as well. The cameraman conks the Camera repeatedly, head lifting up to see News Helicopters beginning to stall, searchlights flickering. The pilots quickly head away, mechanisms correcting once they are a certain distance away from the accident scene. Suddenly everything is plunged into blackout in a 2 mile radius. Lilian gasps as a sudden darkness immerses everything. The cracked dashboard featuring the blinking ¡®airbag on¡¯ light flickering off too. The din above them is louder now without the sounds of helicopter blades to drown them out, and Chris hopes the panic he hears is the sound of his own heartbeat. ¡°Chris, what''s going on?¡± Lilian sobs. He entwines the fingers of his free hand with hers in silent support. ¡°I don''t know, Lilian.¡± Lilian shrieks long and hard as they start to drop, her grip on his hand tightening to an unbearable degree, before she abruptly passes out. Chris'' eyes scrunch shut. If this was the end, then by God he was going to go out with dignity. A yelp is torn from his throat when he realizes that the car isn''t actually dropping, but is being heaved upwards. Hurling them what feels like ten feet in the air, before freefalling to the ground below. His head whiplashes from the abrupt stop in descent before they can come in contact with the tarred road below them. Chris groans softly, head throbbing as the car sets down gently¨Cthe right way up, with a thud. The screeching sound of his door ripping off its hinges tearing through the eerie night. An African-American girl peeks her head in to check on them, Chris even in his frightened mess taking the time to be wowed by her rockstar-esque hairstyle. She clocks his wide eyes and winces to herself. A murmured ¡®shit¡¯ spilling from her lips. The street light in front of them flickers on, the brightness causing him to squint his eyes shut in surprise. Chris turns back to the open door, to find the girl gone, and he blanches. Was it a dream? The Paramedics and Policemen that immediately swarm the car afterwards convince him that it probably wasn''t. ~~~ Chris blinks back that particularly harrowing memory, hand lifting to massage the phantom pain at the back of his neck. Alex is sloped indifferently against a table at the front of the small room, everything in her posture screaming she wanted to be anywhere else but here. Jerome struts back in, eyes wide in laser focus, two-way radio in hand. ¡°We''re ready, sir.¡± He informs him. Chris rises from his seat. ¡°Perfect.¡± ¡°Sir, I still think we should rethink this, there are kids here.¡± He leans in to whisper, the hand holding the radio vibrating significantly. ¡°Of course there are.¡± Chris replies, ¡°But Miss--?¡± He waits for the girl to fill in her name. She doesn''t. ¡°Alexandria.¡± The tour guide supplies, and the girl¨CAlexandria whips to her with a ferocity that makes the woman shrink in on herself. Fascinating. ¡°Alexandria over there seems sure.¡± He continues to his staff. Turning to Alexandria in question. ¡°Or weren''t you?¡± She shoots him a wolfish smile, and Chris half expects to be reduced to a melted puddle as well. ¡°Why don''t you turn it on and find out?¡± She says sweetly. ¡°Very well.¡± Chris shrugs to his Technician. ¡°She said to turn it on, Jerome.¡± Jerome stares bloody murder at Alexandria. Mouth speaking into the radio, eyes still locked in a death glare. ¡°Turn it on.¡± The atmosphere is tense for a couple of minutes, as the Accelerator powers on. It sputters uncertainly, groaning for a moment before whirring on. Chris'' eyes rake over the room, clocking the mild fear and unsure looks. If this didn''t work out, it would be a PR nightmare waiting to happen. The sound reduces to a low buzz as the machine stabilizes. He turns to Jerome. ¡°Well?¡± The man swallows and asks into his receiver. ¡°Status?¡± The radio crackles ominously for a second, then¨C ¡°Accelerator is stable and functioning as intended.¡± Jerome swallows again, audibly this time, chastened eyes turning to Chris. ¡°It''s stable.¡± Chris lets a wide smile crawl onto his face. ¡°Ladies and Gentlemen, the first ¡®functioning¡¯ Solar Accelerator.¡± He announces to the relief of the room. Multiple hands all shoot up at the same time, some not bothering with the gesture and instead yelling out their questions. The entire room is agog with excitement, Security guard, doing his best to stave off the students swarming towards Chris. He looks to where he last saw Alexandria to find her gone. Again. The exit door swaying gently. Chapter 11 Chris handcuffs the unconscious Alien to a firm rod, ensuring the cuffs are cinched tight before setting to work divesting him of his numerous outfits. He grunts as he cuts away the sweater and dress shirt with a Swiss Army knife, the overcoat having been discarded beforehand. Between this fashion overkill, and the other one who was dressed in a bad parody of a hip hop artist, he wondered how the hell they hadn''t been discovered in the first place. He makes himself a mental note to commend Alex¡¯s fashion choices more, no matter how lackadaisical they might be. Nothing could be worse than strutting around in a purple hoodie with the word ¡®thug¡¯ emblazoned on it in yellow block letters. Alien¡¯s torso now completely bare, he winces at the gaping wound caused by the gun he had created, guilt giving way to delight at his ingenuity after a quick beat. He had felled an Alien without trying after all. Prodding for a bit to see the wound had missed vital organs, he whips out his phone. Half the screen is shot, with a long crack splitting the working half from the blank. He opens his call log, about to dial Alex from memory when the general''s voice booms through the intercom. ¡°You''re alive and you can move, please head to the observation room for census.¡± The insensitive prick, Chris thinks, pocketing his phone, glancing back at his unconscious patient one last time, before heading to the control room. It was time to put an end to this nonsense. Thankfully they run into each other in the hallway. Glenn, who was about two heads taller than Chris, almost mowing him down with his powerful strides. ¡°Ah Jordan,¡± he says, the hand not gripping the gun steadying a wobbly Chris. ¡°I was just looking for you, to commend you on a job well done.¡± He waves the bulky thing about comfortably with only one hand. ¡°It''s a perfect prototype. However, we''ll need to mass produce these soon, if we''re going to fight those assholes.¡± Chris inhales and exhales forcefully, lifting a closed fist to his mouth to staunch himself from spewing the first thing that came to his mind. It wouldn''t do to insult the man. Not when he was bigger and younger than Chris was, and had the advantage of coming up on top should fisticuffs ensue. ¡°What the hell are you doing?¡± he settles on instead, a smarter person would realize the enormous self-restraint imbued in those words. ¡°Commending you. I thought you''d appreciate the effort.¡± Alas, Glenn wasn''t smart. ¡°Your people are hurt, some of them dead.¡± He hopes Glenn appreciates directness, ¡°we need to shut this whole thing down now, and get medical attention.¡± The Man waves a hand about airily. ¡°That won''t be necessary. We have a Med Bay in the¨C¡± ¡°Glenn! We''ve done enough.¡± Chris can''t quite bite back the outrage in his tone that time. ¡°We messed with things we weren''t supposed to, and now we have pissed off Aliens attacking¨C¡± ¡°Nobody is leaving!¡± The General interjects, and Chris takes a step back from the heated look in his eyes. He must notice, because he schools his erratic breathing to something acceptable and continues in a calm but firm voice. ¡°You saw what just happened. Super powered aliens tore through a secret facility like it was nothing. They''re real and they''re here, on Earth, threatening the lives of everything we know and love.¡± ¡°Don''t be stupid.¡± Chris rolls his eyes. ¡°That crystal is going to explode, taking out every living thing in this solar system. We need to abort this foolishness now.¡± ¡°We are not aborting anything. We proceed as planned.¡± Chris stands up straight, mind made up. ¡°Then I don''t think I''m going to be a part of this any longer.¡± Glenn hoists the gun to rest on his shoulder. Subtlety being a foreign concept to a man who could snap his fingers, and things would get done. ¡°You say that like you actually have a choice. We''ve been through a lot, Doctor, certainly you can understand why I can''t just let you walk away.¡± ¡°Are you threatening me?¡± Chris¡¯ eyebrows fly up in question. He takes a bold step toward the General. ¡±Do you have any idea the sort of mess you''re about to get yourself into?¡± The General smiles, clearly decoding the hidden message in Chris'' sentence. ¡°Why don''t you call her over, so we can find out?¡± He says, all unperturbed and excited to show off a new toy. The gun. Chris thinks, and he laughs. ¡°You think because you have some alien-felling toy now, you can bully me into submission?¡± To his absolute consternation, the General tosses the gun at the wall, smashing three million dollars, and 6 hours of Chris¡¯ coveted time into painful albeit recoverable pieces. ¡°On the contrary Dr. Jordan.¡± Glenn speaks and Chris tears his gaze away from the debris on the floor to look up at the tranquil bastard. ¡°I won¡¯t need the gun at all.¡±
16 AD ¡­ The rhythmic sound of clanging shovels fill the humid afternoon, two men studiously digging up an impressively deep hole that on closer examination appears to be an unmarked grave. The lanky man has a shovel in hand, hard at work, while the shorter, rotund one stops to catch his breath and is seated on the last rung of the makeshift rope ladder, languidly emptying a pitcher of water over his sweaty head to the chagrin of his partner. ¡°Don''t do the water like that, Castor!¡± He lilts in a melodic English accent. ¡°It''s a rather long way back to the stream!¡± He swipes the nearly empty pitcher from Castor. ¡°This is taking too long,¡± Castor throws his head back from his perch on the rope ladder. His head thuds against the soft dirt, and he winces at the impact. ¡°I would have thought we would be finished by now.¡± He answers in a similar accent. The man¡¯s eyes cross at the bead of sweat making its way down his nose. ¡°Whose idea was it to dig up an unmarked grave, buried 12 feet deep?¡± Castor sighs. It was his idea, all things considered. ¡°Aye, but I heard special things about this one, Albus. The villagers whisper all sorts of horrendous curses contained in this little box.¡± Albus halts mid shovel-swing. ¡°And you''re making us dig it up?!¡± ¡°No one knows how or when it got here, some claim it even predates the village itself. So I''m thinking the hush-hush about it is mostly to hide the goodness it possibly entails.¡± He shivers in anticipation, flailing a hand in encouragement for Albus to continue digging. Albus ponders his words for a moment, before returning to his duties with an agreeable nod. ¡°I don''t know Cas,¡± he huffs, hurling a scoop of dirt out the hole. ¡°It''s the 12 feet thing that''s a little dodgy to me. Who the hell digs a 12 feet hole for a corpse? It''s a bloody corpse! What''s it going to do, crawl out?¡± He plunges the shovel into the dirt for another scoop, using a foot to drive it in deep. ¡°Perhaps it''s to keep people like us out, stop us from vindicating the priceless things they''ve got hidden away down here.¡± Cas shrugs. ¡°Priceless things, yeah.¡± Albus mutters under his breath. ¡°I take it you''re not going to be joining back in anytime soon?¡± He cuts an eye at Castor, who is inclined on the dirt wall hands on hips, a self proclaimed supervisor. The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. ¡°Really Albus, I feel faint from merely¨C¡± A loud clang interrupts his whinge, Albus'' shovel striking something solid. Castor pushes off his slant and is by Albus in a second. Surprisingly spry for the theatrics he was putting on a few seconds ago. He pads across to where the shovel struck. With a smile too large for his face he shoves his friend, who lets out a relieved chuckle. ¡°If what they say about this fella is even half true, we are going to be rich as hell!¡± Castor rubs greedy palms together. ~~~ Albus and Castor set down the disappointedly wooden coffin with a grunt. Somehow managing to retrieve it, and hoist it up the hole--a task that Albus mostly bore the brunt of. Albus is sporting a deep frown, at the disappointment of the coffin being wooden, or the fact that he had been left to do all the heavy lifting, Castor suspects both. ¡°I¡¯m just saying, the coffin''s wooden, Cas.¡± He gripes. He had been doing that unabated since they had discovered it to be a bland wooden box. ¡°A diversion.¡± Castor rallies. ¡°Probably to stave off dumber people in our chosen profession.¡± He retrieves two crowbars, and tosses one to Albus. They clink their tools together in cheers and set about prying open opposite sides of the coffin. The coffin opens with a cloud of dust, one that sends them into a coughing fit, eyes watering. The dust finally clears and they both peer in immediately, eyes in wonder¨C ¡°It''s a lady.¡± Albus says, disappointment kicking up another notch. Castor squints into the box. It was indeed a lady. Dark skinned, waist-long black hair and clothed in a flowing white tunic. The corpse looked as fresh as the day it was buried, nothing off kilter save for the bejeweled gold dagger embedded in the right side of her chest. Albus groans in frustration. ¡°What a downright waste of time!¡± He peers in between the body and the box, sussing out any hidden compartments, finding none. ¡°There''s no jewels or valuables in here!¡± ¡°Save for the dagger.¡± Castor says hopefully, his hand reaches to touch the dagger even as he speaks. Albus snatches it away at the last minute. ¡°Have you lost your marbles man! That thing was plunged in there for a reason!¡± ¡°Don''t be superstitious Albus, it''s unbecoming.¡± Castor rolls his eyes. ¡°We spent the better part of the day digging up this shoddy thing, and I''ll be damned if we don''t get something to show for it!¡± ¡°Look at the state of the corpse, you git. Older than the village itself, yet still as fresh as the day it perished. Doesn''t that scream suspicion?¡± He smacks the backside of Castor''s head, imploring him to think of anything other than jewels for a second. Castor stops for a moment to inspect the body. Eyes trained solely on the beautiful knife. ¡°It''s probably some new embalming mixture. Like that weird thing they''ve got going on in Egypt?¡± It was going to be all fine. They weren¡¯t doing anything but liberating a nice new knickknack for some rich geezer to add to their catalog¨Cafter a substantial amount of money of course. This was simply benign Archeology, nothing to it. Other than a mild desecration transgression that could be easily corrected after a trip to the Priest. Castor nods to himself, plenty convinced by the flimsy excuse he had made up in his head, he reaches for the dagger again. ¡°Castor ¡­¡± ¡°Come off it Albus,¡± he says, hands tweaking to reach for the dagger. ¡°we''re just going to take the nice dagger, and toss the body.¡± With that he wrenches the dagger off its place, as Albus flies for cover behind a rock. Castor freezes in place for a few seconds, only turning to his friend with a sigh of relief when the sky doesn''t collapse on his head, or something equally dastardly. He takes in Albus'' cowardice with a disappointing glare. Sucking air through his teeth when Albus raises up, and sheepishly cleans the dirt off his already filthy outfit. ¡°No revenge seeking thunderstorms then?¡± Castor asks mockingly. Albus starts to respond, then freezes suddenly, saucer wide eyes staring at something just beyond Castor. Castor ruffles. ¡°That''s not funny, Albus. Like I''d fall for that one.¡± ¡°C-C-Cas¨C¡± Castor rolls his eyes at the dramatics. ¡°Don''t tell me. Little Miss is up and wants her missing knife back?¡± ¡°Little?¡± A voice says from behind him, and he stills. Swallowing heavily before turning back to the corpse who is in fact no longer a corpse, but a rather put together female. His mouth opens and closes repeatedly, words unable to spill. Alex takes in the disposition of the blanching men in front of her. Face scrunching in irritation when she can¡¯t for the life of her deduce anything of use from the men save the state of their funny looking clothes. ¡°Right, I have just one question.¡± She says in a prim accent more superior to theirs. Her eyes narrow in vengeful fury, and Castor would later swear he saw them alight with fire. ¡°What day is it?¡± ~~~ Albus stares in unbridled shock as Alex paces a furious path, the grass now completely flattened from her repeated footfalls. She had not taken hearing the date too well, the sky darkening for a moment, and honest to God lightning flying from her fingers to blast her wooden entrapment to charred splinters. The sky was bright now. Not as humid as it was when they had begun digging, but an acceptable temperature all round. Alex pivots at the end of her trail to round back again, waist-long hair billowing about her after each turn. ¡°Three hundred and forty.¡± She mutters on repeat, ¡°I''ve been in a godforsaken box for three hundred and forty years?!¡± She yells, and the sky crackles loudly in accordance with her temper. Albus shifts a little, mouth opening to mollify her a bit. ¡°An impressive feat.¡± He stammers out. ¡°Although we''re m-mostly confused as to how you might have managed to accomplish that ... actually.¡± ¡°Clearly I''m immortal, you daft prick.¡± She responds harshly. No thundercrack however, Albus was putting one in the win column. Castor snaps his fingers. ¡°Makes sense.¡± Castor leans in to whisper to him. ¡°Imagine being able to steal through numerous time periods, Albus.¡± He says, eyes raised to the sky wistfully. ¡°I do wish we was immortal as well.¡± The purple jewel at the grip of the dagger in Castor¡¯s hold glows for a moment, zapping Castor, who drops it with a yelp. ¡°Don''t mess up the knife, she might get mad!¡± Albus scrambles for it on the floor, Castor swiping it back up just as Alex whirls around to begin her trek down the trodden path, her hair whipping at her back. She bats at it futilely, attempting to wrestle it into some sort of manageable state. ¡°What even is all this?!¡± She directs at the fistfuls of her hair in her hands. ¡°What, your hair?¡± Castor asks. ¡°Why is it this long and unruly?!¡± ¡°Because, it grew?¡± Albus supplies confusingly. How exactly did hair grow on someone who was meant to be dead? He shrugs. Considering the fact that Alex was currently gesturing at Castor for the knife instead of slumbering twelve feet under, perhaps the hair had grounds to grow. ¡°Give me the knife.¡± She says testily, when Cas doesn¡¯t register her furious motioning the first time. Castor does as instructed immediately, gasping scandalously as Alex lobs off almost the entirety of her hair in one swipe. ¡°Madam you can''t do that, you''ll confuse a lot of people ¡­¡± He says, fingernail lodged firmly in between his teeth. Alex turns to him with a scowl, her hands running through her now very short hair sticking out at all sides. Cas must remember the lightning thing. ¡°Then again you make it extremely fashionable?¡± He amends, a plastic smile in place. Albus jabs an elbow in his ribs to silence him. ¡°I am going to hunt down every last one of them and exterminate their race.¡± Alex tosses the knife to the ground in favour of threatening, Albus lunges for it once again. ¡°I''ll make it slow, I''ll make it memorable and painful, I think I might just manage to make it last 340 bloody years!¡± They duck as she screams, their discarded shovels and crowbars exploding into tiny bits. Albus raises a hand in the air, pupil style, Alex slowly turning to look at him. Yes, he¡¯s scared shitless at the moment, but he¡¯d like some clarification. ¡°What?¡± Alex asks. Albus peers around, making sure there¡¯s nothing else for her to explode in uncontrolled but definitely warranted fury. ¡°Just a bit of mild curiosity really, but 340 years later is a bit lax to be organizing revenge for your captors now isn''t it?¡± He wrings his hands together. At his question, Alex offers a predatory smile, baring sharp canines and the promise of long suffering. She steps to him, arm snaking around him to settle on his shoulder like a coiled viper. Albus shudders at the contact, rearing back as far as he can, when he takes in the smile, and the steady stream of blood that has started trickling down her nose, soiling the tunic. A depraved look all round. ¡°They''re warlocks, my good friend.¡± She says, before her gaze pivots to the unseeing distance. ¡°You see warlocks, they have all the time in the world.¡±
Nelzux lands roughly as a writhing Nod shoves him away, putting an irate distance between the both of them. It''s a miracle he was able to stay in flight with all the uncomfortable squirming, not to mention the hoarse shouting directly into his ear. Nelzux groans as Nod starts back in the direction they came from. ¡°Where are you going?¡± ¡°Back, to save Kyp.¡± Nod responds over his shoulder. ¡°Don''t be daft, he is probably dead.¡± It pained him to say it, but there was no use skirting around the truth. Nod whips back to him aggressively, obviously rattled by what he knows is probable. ¡°Then we take his body, give him a proper Nekkarian funeral.¡± ¡°We can''t go back there, Nod.¡± He says softly. ¡°That gun was powered with the Crystal, the moment we step foot there, we die.¡± ¡°How can you just sit there and be so cold? Kyp was one of us, we grew up together, served Nekkar together!¡± Nod shoves him again, and the only reason Nelzux doesn¡¯t shove back, is because he understands the emotions coursing through his friend. ¡°You think I do not know that?¡± He bites, fighting the cracks that threaten to seep out along with his words. ¡°If we go back there, our emotions not in check, we will not be helping anyone. Not Nekkar, not our fallen comrades, and certainly not Kyp.¡± Nod huffs, finger pointing to the earth beneath them. ¡°We took an oath Nelzux. For us and for our realm.¡± He says, and the crack Nelzux had warded off in his own voice, unveils itself in Nod¡¯s words. ¡°You were right the first time, Nod. Humans are not to be reasoned with. His eyes darken, fists clenching with the promise of vengeance. ¡°Fear not, comrade, for we are but one trial away from our revenge. Soon Earth, Velkor and all of Naetune will pay for their transgressions against us.¡± Chapter 12 Sometime before the Present ¡­ Lilian jerks to alertness at the rapt sound of harsh knocking downstairs, jostling Chris who rises up beside her, albeit bleary and incoherent. The knocking reverberates through the empty house again, the silence of the night multiplying the sound ten times over. ¡°What is that?¡± She asks, head swirling about to peer at the clock by the bedside table. 3:24AM. What the fucknugget? ¡°Calm down honey.¡± Chris stretches his arms above his head with a loud yawn. And she realizes she said that last part out loud. His eyes finally pry open in attentiveness, shaking his head to dredge the final tendrils of sleep. ¡°It''s just the door.¡± She knew it was the door, her issue was simply with the placement of the appointment of whoever was knocking. ¡°At this time? Why didn''t George call?¡± She rasps, the harsh knocking cutting her off. She lifts off the bed to peer through their room window, doesn''t see a soul. ¡°Chris, I don''t like this.¡± She says from her station at the window. Chris flips over the duvet covering him with a sigh, feet stuffing into his slippers. ¡°Fine. Stay here, I''ll go check.¡± He grabs a robe, about to stride out their room. And Lilian nearly has an aneurysm. ¡°By yourself?!¡± Chris huffs a breath, clearly wanting the entire thing to be over as soon as possible. ¡°Then grab a bat or something and follow me.¡± He says, before exiting the room. Lilian copying his motions, hot on his heels. They tiptoe down the stairs, Chris taking extra precaution to avoid the creaky spots. It wouldn''t do to announce his presence to whoever was at the door, should it turn out to be an axe murderer or something of the like. Lilian bumps into him, a la Scooby-doo style and he jumps two feet in the air, brain catching up to the fact that his wife had come down with him, a bit late. ¡°Jesus Lilian! Watch where you''re going!¡± He wants to raise a hand to his palpitating heart, but decides against it. He wasn''t in the mood for Lilian''s excessive fussing. ¡°You slowed down!¡± She whispers back. ¡°Do you want me rushing to the door?¡± Chris asks, hands making a sweeping motion from their current position on the stairs, to the door. He peers around his wife and frowns. ¡°And where is the bat you were supposed to grab?¡± ¡°No one in this house plays baseball!¡± The loud knocking starts again, Lilian giving her best impression of a koala, arms gripping Chris tight. He sighs. ¡°Honey, at some point we''re gonna have to answer it.¡± His gaze drops to her hands wrapped around him, and she reluctantly lets go of Chris. He takes a deep breath, moving to the door, and wrenches it open. Eyes expanding in their sockets. ¡°Alex?¡± The blood covered and barely alive subject swaying on his doorstep gives a weak wave, hand dropping back down to cradle her left shoulder. ¡°Hey Chris.¡± She says with what he recognizes as a genuine smile. ¡°Let''s not make this a habit.¡± ~~~ Alex is laid out on the couch, a multitude of towels spread out under her shoulder so she doesn''t redye the cream upholstery red. Lilian is beside her cleaning the deep gash on her shoulder, a futile mission seeing as the thing is still spewing inhuman amounts of blood. For biology¡¯s sake, she should be dead. ¡°If this is drug related, I suggest you leave as soon as Lilian''s done.¡± He says from where he is stood across from them, and Alex laughs. ¡°Chris.¡± Lilian chastises softly, still absorbed with the task of sealing Alex closed. ¡°Drug related? Ow.¡± Alex winces a bit as Lilian dabs the surface of the gash. ¡°Haven''t heard that one before.¡± Chris scrubs a tired hand down his face. It was a little past 4am now, and he hadn''t had nearly enough sleep to tackle a crisis this severe. He spares a moment to curse the Chris two months younger who had offered Alex an open door invite at any time of the day. ¡°Look, when I said I was here to help, I certainly didn''t mean dry cleaning blood out of my sofa.¡± he says plaintively. ¡°I recovered something.¡± Alex responds unrelated, and Chris has to realign his bearings to keep up. ¡°Recovered what? ¡°A knife. This one in particular.¡± She whips out a bejeweled dagger adorned with the carvings of different runes. Chris and Lilian take a cautious step back. ¡°What am I looking at?¡± He asks. ¡°A knife.¡± Alex repeats, head cocked to the side. ¡°I thought we established this?¡± ¡°Yes, but why is it in my house?¡± She looks from Chris to the knife and then back to Chris again. Jaw clenched hard at work, grinding molars to little nubs. Wonderful. She hadn''t even thought this through. ¡°Because I honestly have nowhere else to put it.¡± She says after an agonizing moment. Chris scoffs incredulously. ¡°What do you want me to do? Add it to my kitchen set? ¡°Chris she''s bleeding out, we need to get her to a hospital.¡± Lilian touches a hand¨Cthankfully not the bloodstained one¨Cto his arm. He is about to recite a long list of lamentations detailing what driving a bleeding patient to the hospital will do to his car interior, when Alex thankfully objects. ¡°No, none of that.¡± She tries to sit up, failing unceremoniously. Lilian rushes to her side, firm hand pushing her back down ¡°I vote for someone who''s not suffering from blood loss to make the decision.¡± Lilian says. ¡°You''re going.¡± ¡°You don''t understand,¡± Alex winces. ¡°It won''t work.¡± She bullies herself away from Lilian''s grip, feet hitting the floor. ¡°You''ll just end up confusing a lot of doctors.¡± What new hurdle was this? ¡°What the hell does that even mean?¡± Chris asks, brow furrowed dubiously. Alex seems to take this as some sort of point. ¡°Exactly. I''ll need a car battery, and some jumper cables.¡± She says to Chris and Lilian who gape at her. ¡°Lilian.¡± Chris says and Lilian hums in response, eyes still locked on Alex. ¡°What have we let into our house?¡± ~~~ Chris considers the car battery right beside the sofa, jumper cables hooked up to it. Alex has the other end in her hands, and Lilian is staring in horror. It was pure insanity, is what it was. Alex had lost a decent amount of her marbles granted, but Chris would be lying if he said he wasn''t interested in seeing how far Alex was willing to take this thing. ¡°You know you don''t have to look if you don''t want to.¡± She says, eyes not shifting from the cables in her grasps. ¡°Are you really about to weld your wound shut?¡± He can''t stop himself from asking. The mad girl shrugs. ¡°It''s the only thing to do.¡± Chris looks around the house in sarcastic askance. ¡°As opposed to the normal people way of getting stitches?¡± ¡°Let me rephrase that,¡± She says, finally meeting his gaze. ¡°it''s the only thing that will work.¡± She says, before trying unsuccessfully to reach the wound. She attempts again a couple of times, coming up short. Chris losing his attention on watching her fail, when Lilian gives him a little nudge, prompting him to roll his eyes and offer his hand out for the cables. Alex considers his upturned hands for a moment. ¡°Are you sure?¡± ¡°No. But after this, I¡¯m expecting a huge bottle of Jack and an explanation.¡± ¡°Fair enough.¡± She hands Chris the cables, sitting up straight. The sofa dips under Chris¡¯ weight when he joins her, face an uneasy mask. ¡°Wait!¡± Lilian yells, causing Chris to jolt at the interruption. He glowers at his wife. ¡°Don''t you need something to bite on?¡± She directs at Alex sheepishly. ¡°It''s alright really, I''ve had worse.¡± Alex offers a weak smile. At ¡®worse¡¯ Chris'' eyes widen. ¡°That bottle of Jack better be the biggest one there is.¡± He says. The sound of sizzling flesh fills the room, followed by a scream of immense pain.
Kyp¡¯s hand had been instinctively prodding around his chest in a bid to relieve the pressure he felt there. His eyes rip open from the black, blinking rapidly a couple of times. Eyes that had been shut for a while struggle to get used to the harsh white of a marble ceiling. He wiggles around, confirming his fingers, toes and other extremities are intact before attempting and failing to sit up straight. ¡°Ow!¡± Kyp winces as he is forced back down by the biting pain in his chest. ¡°The secret to avoiding the pain would be staying still.¡± The voice says again. Kyp has to painstakingly rotate his head as slowly as possible to identify the owner of the voice. The man from the crystal room. Kyp can''t do anything but stare owlishly. ¡°Chris.¡± The man says next, bloody hand gesturing to himself. ¡°Your makeshift nurse.¡± Kyp stares some more. Marveling at the man''s maintained calm in the presence of a crisis. Humans tended to disperse like rodents in the face of trouble, making them easy to eliminate one after the other. Perhaps Chris was a trained member of a legion. ¡°Kyp.¡± he says finally. Chris¡¯ brows knit together. ¡°Skype?¡± ¡°Kyp.¡± He says louder, making sure to enunciate, as much as you could enunciate a monosyllabic, three letter word. Why was English the dominant language on this rock again? ¡°Okay, Kyp.¡± Chris responds, busying himself poking about in Kyp''s chest once more, Kyp groans at the feeling. ¡°I have not felt pain like this in millennia.¡± And he had partook in some devastating wars. ¡°Millennia? You''re pretty spry for a Mummy.¡± Kyp bristles at the incorrect appropriation. ¡°I''m male.¡± ¡°For a Daddy, then.¡± Chris'' head lifts up to assess him, cracks a secret smile. ¡°Sorry about the gun, Glenn showed me a prop from the set of E.T and I went overboard with the Alien-Invasion Prevention.¡± Invasion? ¡°Do three people count as an invasion?¡± Chris'' eyes peer over his spectacles in a criticizing gaze, hands still moving fervently against him. ¡°Seeing as you three could technically cripple our World Government with a mere sneeze, I''m going to go out on a limb and tick ¡®yes¡¯.¡± He was only grasping every fourth word that exited the man''s mouth, but that seemed like an answer that leaned toward the affirmative. ¡°All we came for was the crystal.¡± ¡°You didn''t exactly ask nicely, did you?¡± ¡°A ruthless tyrant grew power hungry and exterminated my kind. Forgive me if we were aggressive in retrieving the instrument vital to our retribution.¡± Kyp sighs. Chris¡¯ lips twist in a pout, shoulders dropping in sympathy at his statement, then¨C ¡°Hold on you told me you were here to help.¡± He points a bloody scalpel at him in accusation. Kyp at least had the good grace to wince in shame. ¡°I lied.¡± ¡°Of course you did. Now, tell me how I''m supposed to believe any other thing that comes out of that perfect mouth? If the mouth is even real.¡± Chris¡¯ hands flail about in offense. Scalpel of accusation angling dangerously close to Kyp¡¯s face. Kyp has to awkwardly shuffle away on his back from what could accidentally turn into an onslaught. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. ¡°I knew you wanted it off your planet,¡± he says, anxiety abating when Chris folds his arms, scalpel tucked safely away. ¡°I did not think you would care what it did when it was off earth.¡± Chris frowns in thought. Yes, the sentiment was accurate, but it was the principle of the matter. He couldn''t help but feel slightly betrayed from the nearly-lie. He unfolds his hands and deftly returns to patching Kyp up, deliberately poking the injury a couple of times. ¡°Ow!¡± ¡°If you could try not to move at all. I''d appreciate it.¡± He says, eyes trained solely on his work. ¡°I mostly deal with wires and the occasional computer, so not that kind of doctor. Although I''ve got two kids, one of which is an actual doctor. The other could be the President if she wanted. But she doesn''t seem to want anything, except watch old TV shows.¡± He looks up at a silent Kyp after a while, realizing he had been rambling. This would be when he''d generally apologize for going off track, but Kyp for all purposes, was staring at him like he genuinely hadn''t understood a word that had been spoken. ¡°You talk a lot.¡± Is all he says. And Chris snorts. ¡°Guilty.¡± Kyp winces as he tries to peer down his torso. Succeeding slightly. ¡°And you seem to know what you''re doing.¡± ¡°This isn''t my first rodeo, friend.¡± Chris preens, purposefully ignoring the suspicious gaze boring into the side of his face. ¡°Hopefully your friends are coming for you. Cause I was hoping to hitch a ride.¡± He segues skillfully away from any talks about previous rodeos. ¡°As long as the crystal is nearby, it can be tracked.¡± Kyp settles his head back down on the floor, face to the ceiling. His mouth turns down in a frown, and he turns back to Chris. ¡°The crystal is nearby, yes?¡± ¡°I don''t know.¡± He says. ¡°Look, between the both of us, they''re probably never going to let us near that thing anymore. The semi-good news being they shut it off to move it.¡± He adds in explanation to the look Kyp is giving him. ¡°Move it? This is not the Plant?¡± Kyp would probably be panic-pacing right now, if he wasn''t physically confined to his back. ¡°No. No, it actually isn''t. Heck, I can''t even tell where we are, seeing as I''m now a recipient of the little black bag.¡± Chris lifts the hand with the scalpel to the side of his head, scratching a spot with his unsoiled pinky. ¡°I do not understand what that means, but you do not know where the crystal is, right now?¡± Kyp asks urgently. Chris shakes his head. ¡°Could be in Timbuktu for all we know.¡± ¡°If we are not in proximity to the crystal, Nod and Nelzux may never find me.¡± Kyp seems to deflate as he speaks. Chris can''t find a shred of optimism to assure him otherwise. ¡°That is not good news.¡± He settles on. Synapses firing in quick thought to formulate some kind of plan. The easiest thing to do would be to get a message across to Alex or Akio. Which ironically would also be a terrible plan in theory, considering the psychotic things Glenn had cooking in the last lab he had been allowed into. ¡°Your offspring.¡± Kyp says, and Chris has a fleeting second to wonder if he can read minds. ¡°they are forever indebted to you for their birth. Can they not save us?¡± Offspring, Jesus Christ. ¡°Don''t ¡­ Call them that.¡± Chris grimaces. Kyp sobers. ¡°On my planet it was worth a two moon celebration, when a child picked up the sword.¡± ¡°I don''t want them within 10 feet of this place. There''s no need pulling them into this foolishness as well.¡± ¡°So you would rather die, than be saved by them?¡± Kyp blinks steadily at him, eyes darting about his face as if for better understanding. ¡°If it means they get to stay safe. Then yes.¡± He retrieves a filthy rag from beside him to wipe the blood off his hands, then the surface of Kyp''s injury. Fingers crossed Aliens didn''t get infections. Kyp brings a fist to his chin. ¡°I can not decide if your decision is endearing, or foolish.¡± ¡°Let''s stick with the former.¡± Chris preens at the work done on Kyp''s chest, discarding the rag before reaching for a soldering iron nearby. ¡°What are you doing?¡± Kyp croaks, voice disclosing his fear. ¡°Try to hold still,¡± Chris brandishes the soldering gun like a weapon. Closing Alex up once did not make him a pro. ¡°I¡¯ve only done this once before.¡±
¡°She looks so peaceful.¡± Lilian coos at an asleep Alex on their couch. Blanket thrown neatly over her, shoulder bandaged up tightly, and shockingly still in the same position they had left her in two and a half hours ago. Chris is beside his wife, both in their Pyjamas¨Cthey¡¯d had to change into new pairs after the impromptu doctor session earlier this morning¨Cobserving their sleeping guest. He lets out an exhausted yawn, eyes scrunching shut while he does. Lilian had been unable to sleep, fussing around in bed the rest of the night/day, and wrenching him awake in painfully short intervals. He had been incensed by the sun peeking in through his curtains a mere 2 hours later. So much for wishing it was all a very creative nightmare. ¡°Indeed.¡± Chris says, staving off another yawn. ¡°She doesn''t sleep like one who just mutilated herself not three hours ago.¡± She also hadn''t so much as stirred in the 10 minutes they had been observing her. He quickly brushes away the panic of moving a dead body off his couch. ¡°I''m just gonna check if she''s still ¡­¡± Lilian squats beside Alex, reading his mind. Her finger barely reaching out to check for breath, when Alex snatches it away, sitting up violently. Chris lets loose a very undignifying yelp, hand to his heart. Lilian turns to him unimpressed. In his defense, he was functioning on less than 2 hours of sleep. ¡°What the hell are you, a Vampire?!¡± He directs at Alex, who was currently shaking coherent thoughts back into her head like a dog. ¡°Vampires aren''t real.¡± She says in a crystal voice that belied the horrible scream that had ripped from her throat a couple of hours ago. That and the fact that she had just risen from a pain induced sleep. ¡°Vlad was a sick man. An artist given, but a very sick man.¡± She muses. ¡°How do you say so many things and still make no sense?¡± Chris asks in exasperation. ¡°You''ve got blood on your nose.¡± Lilian grimaces, producing a tissue from God knows where and offering it to Alex, who accepts it with thanks. ¡°I''m sorry I grabbed you like that, it''s a reflex thing.¡± She says once she has wiped her face clean. ¡°It''s okay. Breakfast?¡± Lilian smiles, a true sucker for good manners. It was time for Chris to his foot down. ¡°Hold on now, honey. I think she owes us an explanation.¡± ¡°I am a bit hungry.¡± Alex says to Lilian over him. He angles his glare at her instead. ¡°Good. Because the faster you explain, the sooner you get to eat.¡± Chris says, arms crossed. Lilian starts to solicit. ¡°Chris, don''t you think¨C¡± ¡°No Lilian, we''re in this too deep, okay? We helped her. Now, I''d like to know if someone''s going to attempt to snipe me on my way out to the office for that.¡± He turns his commanding glare up a notch. ¡°Nobody''s going to snipe you.¡± Alex waves him away, before fidgeting about on the sofa. ¡°I sorted it out.¡± ¡°I am begging you to assure me that that isn''t code for ¡®I killed someone¡¯.¡± Chris pleads. Alex twists this way and that, eyes roving about her entire inclined form. ¡°Look, if it helps, he wasn''t supposed to be alive this long anyway.¡± ¡°The hell is that supposed to mean?¡± Chris asks, mortified. Alex finally raises the blanket, inspecting her outfit. She makes a very un-Alex like noise in distress as she jumps off the couch. Hoping hurrying off would dissociate the clothes from her body. It doesn''t. She''s clad in a god awful yellow Winnie the Pooh top and bottom pyjamas, tiny honey pots adorning the length of the entire outfit. She looks down at herself in slight disgust. ¡°I think I''m going to be sick.¡± ¡°Those are my Pyjamas, so you''d better not.¡± Chris warns. ¡°Here.¡± Lilian says, depositing the ancient knife on their side table. ¡°I had to put your ... paraphernalia in the wash. It was soaked in blood, and the shirt sleeve was ripped from where ... you know.¡± She concludes, Chris not realizing she had left to fetch the thing in the first place. Alex is transfixed by the Pyjamas on her, completely oblivious to outside stimuli. ¡°Why is it yellow?¡± She muses out loud. ¡°Because that is the best color.¡± Chris answers, her head lifting up to him in question. ¡°What?¡± He snaps his fingers in her face, causing her to jolt slightly. Good, he has her complete attention. ¡°Who exactly did you kill, and how do we prepare for the blow back?¡± ¡°Meredith will be irate.¡± Lilian adds, a contemplative hand resting on the side of her face. ¡°PR Officer.¡± She explains in response to the questioning look on Alex''s face. ¡°She manages ¡­ well PR.¡± Alex still has the look on her face, Lilian trudges on. ¡°PR means¨C¡± ¡°I know what PR means.¡± Alex interrupts, eyes blinking rapidly. ¡°You''re not going to need her, I told you, I sorted everything.¡± ¡°Really? Is that why you showed up to my house with your blood on the outside of you?¡± Chris bites. He catches a slight wince before she schools her face back into impassivity. ¡°Slight miscalculation.¡± She responds, back rigid. ¡°I wasn''t expecting him to be hostile.¡± ¡°Considering you stole from him¨C¡± Chris starts to say, but is interrupted by a feral growl, that to his surprise comes from Alex. ¡°I have never stolen a thing in my life.¡± She insists, a finger to his clothed chest punctuating her every word. ¡°The dagger is technically mine.¡± Chris lets out a haggard breath that makes her realize she''s backed him up to a literal corner, the wall now a wedge behind Chris. Alex lets out a deep breath of her own, and backs off. Relaxing her shoulders, she turns to Lilian. ¡°I apologize for the inconvenience I must have caused, and thank you most profusely for the first aid, Mrs Jordan.¡± She says, some new Alex replacing the one that looked like she was about to rip Chris apart. ¡°Lilian is fine¨C¡± ¡°If I could have my ¡­ paraphernalia back,¡± She grimaces at the word, ¡°I''ll make sure I send your pyjamas back dry-cleaned.¡± She stands primly, posture taut. Alex hadn''t meant for any of this to happen, rushing down here in a fit of desperation. She got hurt and her subconscious for some reason had opted to head here. She takes a swift moment to curse Castor''s lineage. After extensive planning and said plan¡¯s execution, the thief had proven himself to be more trouble than she had stumbled across in a while. ¡°No.¡± She hears Chris say, and her head whips to him. ¡°I beg your pardon?¡± ¡°I think I am well within my rights to demand an explanation. So I¡¯m doing just that.¡± He crosses his hand playing what after extensive research, she had dubbed the ¡®Adult card¡¯. She chuckles a bit to herself, if only he knew. ¡°Explain.¡± He prompts again. Well, If he insists ¡­ ¡°The dagger in the right hands can kill me.¡± He shifts. ¡°Yes, knives sometimes do that, you know, kill people.¡± It is a rather hard thing resisting the urge to roll her eyes. ¡°Not me. Knives can''t kill me, in fact not many things can.¡± She schools her face into utter seriousness, hoping to get her point across. Chris hums. ¡°And why can only this particular dagger kill you?¡± Lilian chimes in. There the right question was. She cracks a smile. ¡°Because it''s magic.¡± ¡°You''ve got to be kidding me.¡± Chris chuckles emptily, hoping it hides his nervousness. ¡°I mean, I wish¨C¡± Alex''s eyes widen at the statement. ¡°Don¡¯t!¡± She flies to him, slapping a hand over his mouth abruptly. The action jostles her injured shoulder, causing her to bite back a hiss. The purple gem at the top of the dagger hums low as it brightens in a dim glow. The ominous buzzing increasing when it starts hovering over the table, blade spinning in an arch, like a compass searching for North. Lilian lets out a muted gasp, and Alex puts a finger over her lips, imploring Lilian to stay silent. Chris¡¯ own response muffled by Alex''s palm still sealing his mouth. The floating dagger clatters back to the table after a silent while, reverting back to its inert state. Only then does Alex release Chris from her firm clutch. Chris sputters in both in affront and at the hand that was on his mouth. ¡°What the fuck was that?!¡± He asks, and it is testament to how shaken they all are, that Lilian doesn''t moan over his vulgar insert. Alex reaches over to swipe the knife from the table. ¡°I told you. Magic.¡± She answers, twirls the thing about, catching Chris¡¯ flinch from her peripheral. Yeah, she probably shouldn''t be playing around with something that was alive not 30 seconds ago. Chris looks like he wants to yell at her, perhaps clock her on the side of the head, before rudely dismissing her from his house. Instead he stands staring, frozen to the spot. ¡°Like abracadabra?¡± Lilian finally breaks the tense silence. ¡°Fine, sorcery.¡± Alex reneges, setting the knife back down. ¡°A group of very angry warlocks crafted the knife a long time ago.¡± Lilian blinks rapidly in disbelief. ¡°You asked a bunch of magicians to make you a couple of fancy weapons?¡± ¡°It was made to kill me, why would I ask for that?¡± ¡°Why aren''t you dead then?¡± Chris interjects, finally coming around to joining back in the conversation. Alex bristles, shoving back the memory of the wooden box. ¡°Believe me, it''s not for their lack of trying.¡± She grits. ¡°Mm-hm, so it takes ¡®sorcery¡¯ to make killing you possible because ¡­?¡± Chris intones, he didn''t even need to throw up air quotes to show how stupid he thought the word ¡®sorcery¡¯ sounded. A knife just levitated on its own accord, how much more would it take to convince the man he had stepped into a different world? ¡°I''m not ordinary, Chris.¡± Alex sighs, bone deep, an aged weight on her shoulders. ¡°I''m tired, probably insane, and have lived over a hundred lifetimes. It would be insulting if a mere gunshot was what ended all that.¡± A beat. ¡°So, what can kill you?¡± Chris asks. Again. Alex sighs. ¡°The dagger Chris.¡± ¡°She did say the knife, honey.¡± Lilian supplies. ¡°Right, right.¡± Chris nods, gears turning in his head. ¡°And you were able to save us that night because of ¡­ magic?¡± ¡°Ugh, no.¡± Alex would be even more affronted if it were anyone else. ¡°I don''t touch the stuff with a ten foot pole. Besides, I''d have to be a warlock to be able to practice.¡± Chris contemplates. ¡°What are you exactly?¡± The million dollar question. The answer to which she hadn''t been able to unearth in over twenty-five hundred years and counting. ¡°Demon, Demigod, God, Abomination, Vampire, four times a witch, and once a ghoul.¡± She lists off on her fingers. ¡°Take your pick.¡± She finishes with a shrug. The look on Chris'' face softens, Lilian letting out a pitying sound beside him. Alex would die before she let this turn into some pity party. ¡°How long have you been like this?¡± Chris asks, all trace of sarcasm or jest completely disappeared. ¡°As far as I can recall.¡± ¡°How far is that?¡± She hesitates. ¡°Just over 2500 years.¡± Lilian rears back in disbelief, just as Chris loses some of the sympathy he seemed to have amassed. He scoffs. ¡°On one hand, you act mostly insane, so mental unbalance really isn''t a difficult conclusion to come to.¡± ¡°You''re not wrong.¡± Alex acquiesces with an amused smile. ¡°Then again, you did rip apart my car door like a piece of toast.¡± A hand lifts to stroke his chin, as he tsks. I accept you''re some sort of ¡­ super powered individual, I''ll maybe even begrudgingly accept that that knife over there is voodooed ten ways to Saturday. But I''m gonna have to draw the line at dining with Attila the Hun.¡± He concludes, eyebrows scrunched together. That looked like a very difficult thing for him to admit. A quick glance at Lilian showed her revisiting the laws of nature herself. Eyes darting about as if reading from some invisible blackboard. Alex nods slow in contemplation. It would take a while to convince Chris; he was a man of science. Lilian on the other hand looked like she simply needed one last nudge. ¡°I did kill Attila.¡± She says, clocking the unimpressed look on Chris'' face. ¡°Don''t worry, he wasn''t a good person either.¡± His frown deepens. ¡°I have a very strong urge to restrain you right now.¡± ¡°Maybe call for help.¡± Lilian adds reluctantly Alex raises her hands in defeat, allowing them smack against her sides. ¡°I can''t convince you I''m older than I look, that''s fine ¡­ probably. How about if I prove I can''t die?¡± ¡°That sounds like an excellent first step.¡± Chris shrugs. ¡°Awesome. Do you have a gun?¡± A manic grin spreads across his face. ¡°Follow me.¡± He ushers with a wave of his hand. ¡°No, no, no Christopher! We are not going to shoot this poor girl!¡± Lilian, the resident voice of reason screeches, halting their decisive march. ¡°Oh you don''t have to worry about that Mrs Jordan, I''ll be shooting myself.¡± Alex assures, to Chris'' absolute delight. ¡°There!¡± He claps his hands in excitement. ¡°Our hands are clean.¡± turning back to Alex, he inclines his head once more. ¡°This way.¡± ¡°Chris!¡± Lilian shrieks after them. Whinging her displeasure all through the short trek through the kitchen into the garage. ~~~ ¡°I am not in support of this.¡± Lilian pretends to huff. In reality her heart was about to tear through her chest. Chris was cleaning Darling. A stupid handgun that she had worn him into relocating to the garage. If she knew some delusional child, slash self proclaimed demigod would stroll through their house one day asking to be killed, she might have convinced him to toss the thing instead. ¡°Calm down honey,¡± he assuages, blowing air up the barrel of the gun, ¡°she''s just going to prove she''s indestructible, for the sweet love of science.¡± ¡°That''s really not why I''m doing this. I hate being called a liar.¡± Alex interjects. Accepting the gun a tad aggressively when Chris hands it to her. ¡°So, whatever happens, I ask that you at least give me 2 minutes, before you start panicking.¡± She smiles tightly. Lilian can''t fathom why she seems to be the only one in the room with common sense at the moment. ¡°Does panicking before you even start count?¡± ¡°2 minutes.¡± Alex repeats, before placing the gun to her head. ¡°Oh my God,¡± Lilian cries. Hand latching on to her husband''s arm. ¡°Chris stop her!¡± Chris obliges, arm outstretched. ¡°Wait, wait, wait, wait! I thought you were gonna aim at your arm or feet or something, not your¨C¡± Alex fires. ¡°Skull!¡± Lilian''s hand immediately covers her mouth in terror. Chris muttering an uninterrupted string of ¡®oh my God¡¯s¡¯. ¡°Is-Is she dead?¡± Lilian squeaks, eyes frozen on the unmoving form beneath them. Chris shivers. ¡°There''s a bullet in her head Lilian, I think it''s safe to assume.¡± They walk towards the body. Situation becoming even more real once they properly take in her glassy unmoving eyes. ¡°Oh my God.¡± Chris mutters again, hands flying up to pull on his hair. ¡°Meredith will kill us.¡± ¡°I warned you about this!¡± She scolds loudly. ¡°I didn''t think she was going to go through with it!¡± The grip on his hair gets even tighter, fingers whitening at the strain. ¡°You gave her the gun!¡± Chris nudges at the corpse with a foot, shuddering at its stiffness. ¡°I knew she was insane.¡± He says regretfully. A tad belated in Lilian''s opinion. ¡°Who the hell shoots themselves in the¨C¡± They are interrupted by Alex''s gasp, as she jerks up into sitting position. The bullet pops out with a squelch as the hole in her head closes. ¡°I am not a liar!¡± She gasps in between death heaves, eyes blinking back into focus. Chris and Lilian stare mouth ajar, a couple of seconds before Lilian feels the earth tilting and blacks out. ¡°I believe you.¡± She hears Chris say, before her head thuds against the cold floor. Chapter 13 Chris trips on air, grumbling loudly when he is fiercely hoisted up by strong hands on both of his shoulders. He is in a nice pair of handcuffs, two lackeys on each side, Glenn in front of them as they weave through this new labyrinth-like lab setup they''ve relocated to. All he can do is grumble at the handcuffs locked too tight, the cool metal biting into his skin sure to leave a mark. Marks he didn''t want. Marks would be difficult to explain to Alex or, God forbid, Akio. A rough shove from the lackey on his right rebounds him back into consciousness. He blinks irately at the idiot before clocking the tail end of something Glenn had seemingly been directing at him. Something about wanting to help the military, if his distracted hearing was to be trusted. He takes a breath and replies with the first thing that comes to mind. ¡°The last thing I ever want to do is help you. Heck, If it were up to me, I''d hand the crystal over to the aliens, crack open a bottle of whiskey and call it a day. At least they know what the thing does.¡± The General halts abruptly. Chris and his current sentinels nearly running into the burly man. Glenn turns to face Chris, a placid but deadly look in place; Chris swallows. Perhaps that was one wisecrack too many. ¡°You''re obviously not going to stop till you get what you want. So, I''m here to make sure you don''t kill us all in the process.¡± He amends, cuffed hands raising in placation. Glenn blinks steadily at him, mouth set in a moue as he works out whatever the hell conniving three-star Generals work out in their heads. ¡°And the Alien?¡± He asks finally, hard eyes boring into Chris'' soul. This was a test, Chris knew. His next answer would determine if he were to be forced into reluctant servitude, or locked away in some dark container somewhere and the key tossed in the ocean. Reluctant Servitude gleamed enticingly at him. He spares a moment to hope Kyp is healed up enough to defend himself should need be, before replying, ¡°Him or me,¡± he shrugs, ¡°I''m choosing me.¡± The General nods slowly, eyes appraising Chris thoroughly. He looks torn between pride at Chris'' duplicity and asserting his dominance. ¡°What do you need?¡± He asks finally. ~~~ Alex alights from an Uber, whipping off her sunglasses to regard the sleek black car parked suspiciously close to the house, with barely any regard for the front door. The driver¨CNot Ezra¨Cis standing outside the car in a cleanly pressed suit and sunglasses. On thorough inspection of the simple Mercedes, Alex doesn''t remember Chris ever owning a vehicle this ¡­ unobtrusive. ¡°Can I help you?¡± She asks, wrangling her suitcase behind her. The man whips to her at attention, perfunctory smile in place. ¡°No thank you. I''m waiting for Mr Jordan.¡± ¡°He hasn''t kept you too long has he?¡± She makes a scene of shimmying through the barely wide enough space between the bumper and front door, eyebrows raised pointedly. The man either lacks the necessary social cues or simply doesn''t care. ¡°I''m not being paid to complain, Ma''am.¡± He says, kind smile unshaking. She eyes him one last time before wrangling the front door open, sparing a brief moment to commend her restraint. A younger Alex would have kicked that car into a ravine somewhere. She tosses her suitcase to a corner, ignoring the crashing sounds that follow as she slumps onto the armchair. Perhaps she still had a bit more maturing to accomplish. ¡°Chris! Are you up there?¡± She hollers, her boots joining her suitcase in the aforementioned corner. ¡°Alex? Is that you?¡± Chris'' muffled voice calls from somewhere upstairs. Alex snorts to herself. ¡°No, It''s the Plumber.¡± ¡°Ah.¡± Her head swivels to where Chris is descending the stairs, both fists lodged too casually in his pockets. ¡°Why are you here?¡± He squints. ¡°I live here.¡± Alex raises a sedate brow at the inaneness of the question, eyes following him resolutely down the stairs. ¡°I''m sorry. I''m sorry.¡± Chris shakes sense back into his head, ¡°Welcome back. It''s just, I thought you were staying in Jersey a little while longer.¡± He is in front of her now, hands still in his pockets. It makes for an awkward pose, and Alex wonders about his insistence on the stance. ¡°I never said that.¡± ¡°I know you didn''t, I simply thought so.¡± He says with a sigh. ¡°Well, I''m back, had Akio check me out. Aside from a Brain Hemorrhage that fixed itself, I''m good for business.¡± She waves nonchalantly. Chris stiffens. ¡°Brain Hemorrhage? Jesus, are you alright?¡± ¡°Oh yeah, aces. Went bowling even, smoked Akio''s ass.¡± She crosses her feet on the table in front, fully expecting Chris to smack her feet off, per routine. He doesn''t. ¡°Glad you had fun.¡± He says instead. ¡°Mm-hm.¡± Her eyes lift from his pockets to his face, eyes narrowing inch by inch at the discovery of every cut she locates on there. ¡°What happened to your face?¡± ¡°Oh, this?¡± He gestures at his face, the hand firmly tucked back in the blasted pocket before Alex can get a good look at it. ¡°An alien dropped a building on me.¡± Her gaze flits repeatedly from his face to his pockets for a moment. Short of bluntly asking him to present his forearms for inspection, Chris wasn''t going to unsheath his hands. This was either some new fad he had discovered on the Internet, or he was in his semi-regular ¡®Mess with Alex'' mood, which would explain the dull Alien joke. Either way, she was too jet-lagged to properly contemplate which one it was at the moment. So long as he still had both his hands. ¡°Fine, don''t tell me.¡± She draws her feet from the table, instead angling them in an uncomfortable sprawl on the armchair. ¡°At least don''t keep your new Driver waiting.¡± Chris blinks blankly. ¡°Driver?¡± ¡°The one you left standing under the scorching sun?¡± She squints suspiciously. ¡°That driver.¡± He tsks, shoulders deflating a fraction. Alex squirms in place, turning to scrutinize with concern. ¡°Chris, I realize acting suspicious makes up about 85% of your personality, but are you okay?¡± She asks sincerely. ¡°Blink twice if you''re being held against your will.¡± Chris snorts, somehow managing to not blink at all. ¡°Don''t I look okay?¡± He parries. ¡°Would you tell me if you weren''t?¡± She huffs, Chris, whirling to acknowledge the driver who had just walked in, a hand tapping urgently at his watch. ¡°I have to go, Alex.¡± He strides towards James Bond. ¡°If I had known you were returning today, I might have ordered something.¡± ¡°I can cook.¡± Alex scoffs in offense. Chris scoffs right back. ¡°Right, Francis something-something¨C¡± ¡°Francoit Massialot.¡± He kisses his teeth in thought. ¡°Whatever. Nobody cares.¡± Alex rolls her eyes as he leaves, jolting when at the last minute, she feels his arms wrap awkwardly around her in a quick hug. ¡°Take care of yourself, Alex.¡± He says quietly, before leaving almost reluctantly with the driver. Alex considers the dubious exchange for a while, eventually curling into the armchair for an overdue nap.
Sometime before the Present ¡­ Alex takes in the vast office with wide eyes. Twirling briefly to ogle at the impressive ceiling before her eyes finally rest on the gold dagger, propped up like a trophy on the mahogany desk. She raises an eyebrow as if to ask ¨Creally?¨C and Castor shrugs in response. ¡°Turns out people don''t care about important things disguised as paperweights.¡± He says with a genial smile, offering a hand out to her, which she politely declines, instead opting to take a seat. ¡°No, thank you. I still haven''t gotten over the ¡­¡± She gestures to her face with a dismissive wave of her hand. And Castor nods in understanding. She makes a show of raking her eyes over his form, eyes cataloging every expensive piece of jewelry on him, and boy, were they a lot. He also looked impressively young ¡­ for someone who ought to have expired over approximately 1800 years ago. This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. ¡°You look good.¡± She props up her head on her hands resting on the desk. ¡°How is Albus by the way?¡± Castor relaxes back in his seat, furrow settling in between his brows. ¡°He''s fine, the usual grump. Been between himself on the concept of immortality. Hasn''t come near this thing in almost 50 years.¡± He rears back up, sharp smile in place and fully intent on steering the conversation back to neutral grounds. ¡°However, when I heard Alex Jordan wanted an appointment with me, I thought my secretary was having an aneurysm.¡± He vibrates giddily, and Alex laughs. ¡°How do you imagine I felt when I heard you were starting a law firm?¡± She asks. ¡°I know!¡± He squeals excitedly. ¡°A Law Firm!¡± Alex reiterates. ¡°Cas, you are the most dishonest person I know.¡± ¡°I know!¡± ¡°Frankly I''m impressed it''s been successful this long.¡± She gives the office another impressed once over. Castor reaches for a drawer beside him, pulls it out, and retrieves a complimentary card, which Alex scrutinizes thoroughly. ¡°Castor Smith. Senior Partner, Smith & Wesson. Established by my ¡®Great Grandfather¡¯¨Calso named Castor Smith, May he rest undisturbed¨C75 years ago.¡± He recites dutifully, finishing with a solemn signage of the cross. Alex shakes her head in amusement as she flips the embossed card over, fingers rubbing over the raised letters. ¡°¡®Smith & Wesson¡¯.¡± She reads dubiously. ¡°Isn''t that already a thing?¡± At this Castor shifts forward in his seat, the fervent nod he is giving promising an interesting tale. ¡°It was. We sued them and won, obviously. They''ve since been curtailed to obscurity.¡± He waves at the roof-to-floor glass window behind him, the general direction of obscurity perhaps. ¡°Oh my God.¡± Alex shakes her head in poorly concealed amusement, tossing the card back on the table. ¡°Only you Castor, only you.¡± Castor retrieves his card, polishing it vainly on his crisp shirt before returning it back to its drawer. ¡°To what do I owe the pleasure then? Some nasty person you need me to pin an equally nasty crime on?¡± ¡°Not particularly.¡± She steeples her hands under her chin in thought. ¡°Something''s come up. I''m going to need the knife back.¡± Castor stares at her for a couple of seconds, before releasing a shaky exhale. ¡°Come now, Alex, you know I can''t do that.¡± He says, the ghost of his nearly faded smile fighting for purchase. Alex sits up from her slouch, rankling at the refusal. ¡°What are you talking about? We''ve done this before. I use the fancy cutlery for a bit, and I hand it back to you.¡± ¡°Yes, but that was what, 1900 years ago? I can''t afford to be away from this thing for hours at a time.¡± He taps the pedestal on which the knife is propped, discreetly moving it just a bit towards him. Now Castor was just like any other run-of-the-mill sleaze, his durability and slightly above average wits, the only thing distinguishing him from every other sleaze in town. Fake tears and sob stories were most certainly not below his purview. Alex eyes him viciously, lips curling into a frown. ¡°Get over yourself, it''s a bloody relic.¡± ¡°Literally, Alex.¡± Cas sits up in his seat, face set serious. Thankfully, Alex had known him long enough to not buy whatever it is he was trying to sell her. ¡°You should see Albus, I''ve been begging him to just touch the thing, instead of suffering through whatever form of decay he seems to be undergoing at the moment.¡± ¡°Decay?¡± Castor swipes a hand down his face, letting out a tired sigh. ¡°He''s aging again, rapidly too. But he doesn''t seem to be able to die from the effects.¡± This was the problem with Warlocks and their magick. Save for simple conjuring tricks and their exuberant light shows, nothing was an exact given. Most of their favors relied heavily on quid pro quos, with a lot more emphasis on the ¡®quid¡¯s¡¯ than on the ¡®quo¡¯s.¡¯ Not that Alex could have predicted this exact outcome so as to warn them off the knife. She was too busy at the time extinguishing Warlocks en masse. She schools her face into something solemn and full of pity. ¡°I truly am sorry about that, and I might be able to look into it as soon as I''m done with my personal mission. But Castor, I cannot stress how urgently I need that dagger back.¡± Castor looks distressed for a split second, eyes darting about his office rapidly, before settling on a spot beyond Alex. She clocks the fear and seriousness in his gaze, turning behind her to glance at whatever it is he sees that elicits the reaction from him. The sound of a gun clicking pulls her back to Castor in front of her, forcing her to laugh breathlessly at the gun trained in between her eyes. ¡°Oh, Cas.¡± She scolds, her head shaking low and regrettably. ¡°You know that won''t work.¡± Her eyes train slowly across the length of his outstretched arm. ¡°Probably.¡± Castor shrugs, unoccupied hand finally snagging the mounted knife from the table. He lets out a satisfied breath, his body quivering slightly as soon as the knife is in his grasp. And Alex would swear he looked like an addict. ¡°But it should buy me just enough time to cut out your heart undisturbed. Maybe I''ll mount that one next.¡± He says morosely, finger squeezing the trigger. The gun goes off, bullet whizzing past her head as Alex tilts away from the line of fire in the nick of time. Castor swears briefly and attempts another shot, failing again when Alex seizes the hand with the gun, finger firmly jammed between his trigger finger and the trigger. He lets out a sharp yowl when Alex squeezes, nearly crushing his finger. Swinging blindly with the knife hand, he hears the telltale squelch of the blade digging into her shoulder and feels it strike bone. Her grip on his trigger finger loosens, and the gun drops. A well-placed kick to his midrib frees them from their tussle, her hand¨Cpresumably the one without the dagger jutting out of its shoulder¨Cfisting into his hair to slam his face into his mahogany desk. Castor crumbles to the floor with a groan of pain, fingers lifting to swipe away blood, and prod for damages to his face. A broken nose bridge. He winces once his fingers come in contact with the raised spot, anger blindsiding him alongside the pain. Alex spins in place, hand trying to grasp the knife still impaled in her shoulder, and Castor''s blood curdles, diving for her as soon as her hand wraps fully around the knife. With one last pained grunt, Alex yanks out the knife. The blood splatter from the action the last thing Castor registers before he feels the blade break the skin above his heart. Alex catches him before he can slam to the ground, watching him gurgle the blood that has suddenly pooled into his mouth. She has a hand tangled in his hair, fingers softly carding through it as she shushes him gently, while her other hand firmly drives even more of the blade into his chest, eliciting a loud scream from him. Alex watches the light fade from Castor''s eyes, letting his lifeless body thud to the ground. A bloody hand lifts to uselessly wipe away the blood dripping from her nose. She squats down to pry the knife off Castor, a bloody handprint where her hand briefly scrambles to steady herself on the white wall. With one last regretful look at her former friend''s body, she staggers to the office door, tearing it open to peer into the lobby where Cas¡¯ secretary should be. Finding it empty in the eerie night--small mercies--she stumbles out of the office, her good hand relocating the knife to her limp one, before digging into her pockets for her phone. The pre-recorded voicemail message of whoever is on the other side of the line babbles dutifully, Alex bristling, after the tone to leave a message. ¡°Albie, we have a problem.¡± She says sedately, staggering steps slowly taking her away from the scene of the crime.
The General''s head lifts up at Chris being manhandled into his office. He winces internally at the way the sergeant¨Cwhose name he couldn''t care less about¨Cragdolls Chris about, tossing him precariously across his desk. The crack that follows after Chris makes contact with the desk is proof that Chris had surely broken something. However, the man simply releases an annoyed puff of air as he straightens himself back up. ¡°Is this necessary? I''m not some petulant teenager being led to the Principal''s office.¡± Chris groans, left hand lifting to cradle his right wrist. Definitely broken, he frowns. The sergeant would have to face a severe reprimand for his carelessness, seeing as their entire mission relied heavily on Chris'' use of both hands. Speaking of Chris. The General gives him a serene look, posture taut from his seat behind the desk. A fleeting air of admiration for the inventor washes over him. Lesser men would have reacted worse to that sort of thing than a slight furrowing of the brow. ¡°You told Mr. M here to take you home before stopping by your office?¡± He gestures at the sergeant behind, making sure to keep his demeanor placid. Chris scoffs. ¡°Mr. M? What is this, Men in Black? I told the driver to take me home first because I thought I forgot something.¡± He sighs. If there ever was a moment for Chris to display his abnormal sense of humor. ¡°Where is this thing?¡± he asks, taking great pleasure in watching Chris¡¯ expression devolve into deep vexation. ¡°¡®Thought¡¯, Glenn. You''re a smart man. You should know what that means.¡± Chris bites. ¡°If it helps, I brought the blueprints for the shield.¡± The Shield was some fancy contraption that Chris had sweet-talked him into, citing the benefits of anonymity and other technical jargon he hadn¡¯t the brainpower to remember¨Cnot that he was paying any rapt attention to Chris¡¯ bloviating. It had promised complete invisibility for the crystal from any tracking system, and that had been enough for him. However, this talk of blueprints was new. ¡°Blueprint? Don''t you already have the shield?¡± He makes sure to make his displeasure known. Chris rolls his eyes hard, broken wrist tightly ensconced in his pants pocket. ¡°Yes. Because I''d stupidly hand the military my unpatented prototype.¡± Like he was interested in stealing some tech nonsense. ¡°I take it you''d be doing ¡­¡± He nods amicably, gesturing vaguely at Chris, ¡° ¡­ whatever yourself then?¡± ¡°Yes, Glenn. I will personally see to it that your crystal becomes invisible to whatever crystal-seeking creatures are out there.¡± Chris throws his good hand up, three joined fingers pointing skyward. Scout''s honor. It was the wrong hand, so Chris would be able to curb his guilt when he inevitably betrayed Glenn. That, and his right hand was currently out of commission. ¡°Of course, I have a list here, of everything I''ll need, and I want it exactly as is, no substitutes, no either or. And please, have someone with the required understanding of Physics fetch them for me.¡± Chris hands a meticulously folded sheet of paper to Glenn. He skims through it so quickly, Chris wonders if he even read through it. ¡°I know I look good and all, but we really don''t have time for distasteful ogling. The list?¡± He spits derisively at the General¡¯s intense gaze on him. In hindsight, he had gone mostly unscathed for his intense jibes per minute, it was about time someone responded furiously. He chokes as Glenn snags him by the collar, forcing him to clamber weakly over the desk with both his hands to meet Glenn''s gaze dead on. His weight rests on the broken wrist, and he moans slightly at the pressure, puffing out a small breath of air through his nose. ¡°Your sense of humor could be your greatest strength or the thing that ends up killing you.¡± Glenn states calmly, fingers tightening on his collar. Chris can make out purple blotches in his vision and thinks it won''t be long till he passes out. He gasps in huge lungfuls of air when the beefy hands clenching his trachea shut free him, somehow managing to straighten himself back up with more aplomb than he currently feels. He sees Glenn seethe at how unbothered he makes himself appear, and feels better about the whole thing immediately. ¡°Clifford will get you what you need.¡± Glenn says, eye twitching as Chris swipes his clothes back into their proper state of being. ¡°Thank you, Glenn,¡± Chris says gingerly. Relishing the man seething even more. ¡°My name is not Glenn!¡± He slams his hands down on the desk, jostling the wood greatly, lips curling even steeper when Chris doesn''t so much as flinch. Chris pauses in his grooming, lips pouting in thought before he replies, ¡°Vincent? You look so much like a ¡®Vincent¡¯.¡± ¡°Take him to get his wrist checked out.¡± Not-Glenn growls at Chris¡¯ slave driver¨Chow long had he been standing there? ¡°Then he waits in his old room.¡± Chapter 14 ¡°Sir, I have my reservations about this particular procedure.¡± The Professor says, fingers adjusting his flawless glasses. The General sighs in bone-deep exhaustion, fingers trying and ultimately failing to pinch the frustration out through his eyes. What was it with geniuses trying to drive him crazy today? He had barely had a chance to celebrate ridding himself of Chris; now, the situation had arisen to reunite with the timid Professor once again. He spares a glance at the whiny man, fingers fiddling furiously with his glasses. If the man hadn''t needed them to see, he''d have tossed them into the vat of liquid across them. Glass panel be damned. Two people in full hazmat body suits flit past them into the room with the transparent tub, and they watch the liquid bubble impressively once a significant helping of some random chemical is pumped in through one of the numerous tubes sticking out of it. The bespectacled man fidgets beside him once again, palms smudging the glass panel he is leaning on in front of them, and The General growls. ¡°Will you relax, Clifford?¡± He yanks the man away from the glass by the collar of his ever-present lab coat. ¡°This procedure was successfully tested and used in the 60s, and they barely had color television.¡± Clifford intones in deep thought. Hands rushing to straighten his skewed coat, mouth spewing needless information. ¡°Technically the first color television was invented in 1925¨C¡± The General whips to him sharply, shooting the man a look that could melt ice. Thankfully he knows well enough to end the trivia session. ¡°Sorry.¡± Clifford clears his throat. ¡°I-It''s just, factoring in the new upgrades, plus the crystal which also hasn''t been tested, we have a whole new kind of unpredictability¨C¡± He takes a deep breath, forcefully grabbing the Professor by his shoulders. It seems he was going to need to literally shake the man into getting with the program. ¡°We have aliens amongst us now.¡± He inputs a firm shake here. ¡°Aliens who left unchecked could signal for help from the stars.¡± The man''s hand flies up to his glasses again. ¡°But Chris said¨C¡± ¡°Chris has been secretly housing our other enormous problem!¡± He smacks the hand away before it can reach the glasses, and God was it satisfying. ¡°Why should we have to listen to anything he has to say?!¡± The Professor quakes a little, he savors it. ¡°This is our country, our home. We cannot in good conscience sit by, and let these things take over.¡± The General says in closing, a hand abandoning its grip on one shoulder to fix Clifford¡¯s spectacles. Warranted this time, as it was sliding down his sweaty face. ¡°Whatever it takes.¡± He pats him once on the back, hands returning to their parade rest position behind him. ¡°Now, who''s our candidate?¡± The Professor jerks to attention, eyes pouring across the dossier in his hand, as he quickly reads. ¡°Corporal John Fraker.¡± He says. ¡°Top of his squad, highest endurance levels ever recorded.¡± The General nods impressively. ¡°Bring him in.¡± The door opens and in steps the man in a bathrobe. 5 feet 12 inches, lean but muscular. His fitness tests were impressive as well as his shooting scores. The fitness part, however, was what mattered at the moment, the updated version of this procedure from the 60s having failed countless times as a result of the subjects dying before their body could integrate with the new modifications. A flaw that Clifford¨Cif you filtered through the incessant whinging¨Chad hoped the crystal would help bypass. ¡°John Fraker?¡± ¡°Yes sir.¡± The man salutes dutifully, clad only in his sky-blue bathrobe. ¡°Do you know why you''re here today?¡± The man had been debriefed once he signed the Non-disclosure clause, but one couldn''t be too careful. ¡°Yes sir.¡± He answers crisply, eyes trained ahead in military alertness. ¡°Well, I guess that means we don''t have to go into details then.¡± He shuts the file and hands it back to the Professor, who clears his throat pointedly, head gesturing to the undressed man. Right, Terms and Conditions. ¡°You are aware that we aren''t responsible for any side effects et cetera et cetera?¡± He rolls his hands, hoping to convey his point across quickly. ¡°I was extensively debriefed, sir.¡± Fraker answers, stiff and robotic. A part of him can''t help but wonder-- ¡°You''re certain, this is what you want?¡± He wasn''t a monster. If this was not consensual, he would pull the plug immediately. No use wasting good American men. ¡°I am here voluntarily sir.¡± Fraker nods once, shoulders squared in preparation for duty. Hazmat number one steps in through the door, interrupting whatever the General was going to say next. The clinical precision of the situation, coupled with the rubber suits, give the entire thing an uncanny feeling. ¡°We''re ready for him now, General.¡± Hazmat salutes. John nods, ready, pivoting around to leave before the General stops him. He holds a hand out in front of the man, barricading but not touching. ¡°Any family members to contact, just in case things go south?¡± ¡°None sir. It''s just me.¡± Fraker replies. The General nods understandingly, hand retracting from its stoop. ¡°Good luck kid.¡± He says ¡°Anything to serve my country, sir.¡± Fraker salutes, before leaving with Hazmat one. They watch him drop his robe from outside the glass panel, subjects the only people allowed into the area without protective gear. Hazmat one directs Fraker into the vat, where he enters face down. Hazmat two pushes a button, injecting various colors of liquid into Fraker via the tubes sticking through the tub. Then the top is slid shut, the machine whirring on with an ominous hum.
Chris glares furiously at the seven enormous moving vans parked in front of his home. Alex had convinced him of the existence of magic, perhaps he had some untapped talent and could cause the vans to suddenly combust into burning wrecks. ¡°Look, man!¡± The head truck driver croaks, snapping him out of his sinister thoughts. The man lifts his dusty baseball cap to swipe the grimy sweat off his bald head, and Chris can''t help but grimace at the thick droplets that fall. ¡°All we got were instructions to deliver this stuff to this address ¡­¡± Baldy fishes a crumpled paper out of his back jean pocket, handing it to Chris. Thankfully, his lawyer accepts it because Chris wasn''t touching anything from this man, even if his fingers suddenly transformed into surgical forceps. Arthur''s eyes quickly skim across the tattered note, his intellect wasted on something so inanely trivial. He looks up at the driver after the fact, and Baldy quirks an eyebrow at him in question. ¡°¡­ Which is here, isn''t it?¡± He asks in continuation, eyes darting between the three men opposite him, daring even one of them to dispute the fact. Chris gives in and snatches the reading glasses off Arthur''s nose¨Chis had wandered off somewhere once again¨Ca stern look plastered on his face, as he peers through the crumpled paper still in the lawyer¡¯s grasp. ¡°It''s here, alright.¡± Arthur confirms. The Truck driver swells triumphantly, nodding some vague communication across to his colleagues who were conferred at the far end of the closest van. ¡°But ¡­¡± Chris emphasizes, taking great pleasure in the chance to pull a jolt from Baldy in return. ¡°None of these are mine, so I honestly don''t know what to tell you.¡± The driver''s brief moment of delight clouds over once again. ¡°We''ve got another job in an hour, we gotta unload now.¡± Chris lets out an aggravated sigh, head angled to the heavens. He would have George toss the men out of the compound if there weren''t seven of them and one of George. ¡°I just told you they don''t belong to me, why would you possibly want to unload?¡± He clasps his hands together over his face and hopes it properly conveys the severity of the exasperation washing through him. ¡°Bub, I really don''t give a shit what belongs to who, as long as I get paid. And the instructions were to unload here and get paid.¡± The driver attempts to rest a friendly hand on his shoulders, Chris quickly flinching away before he can make contact. ¡°Get paid by whom exactly?!¡± He barely has the sentence out of his mouth, when he is interrupted by obnoxious rock music blasting out of the black 1969 Plymouth Barracuda that pulls to a halt in front of them. Alex steps out, cool blue Aviator glasses resting comfortably on her face, not a care in the world. ¡°Hello, Chris.¡± She chirps lightly, tilting her head to peer over her glasses at the movers. ¡°Well, what are you waiting for? Unload the stuff.¡± Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. Baldy stuffs two fingers in his lips, the emanating piercing whistle launching his colleagues into work mode. ¡°You heard the lady, hop to it!¡± He shoots Chris a stink eye before joining up with his crew, the movers immediately unloading things into the house. Chris turns to Alex, hands on his hips. ¡°Of course, they belong to you.¡± ¡°Did I forget to tell you?¡± Alex takes a quick second to scan through her memory. She finds whatever she is searching for. ¡°Shit, I forgot to tell you.¡± ¡°Our dilemma has been quelled, George. You may go now.¡± Chris says to George, who nods understandingly before returning to his security post. He lets his gaze wash over the entirety of Alex. Her shoulder was properly healed if he were to guess from her furious gesturing to the movers. She was officially becoming a ¡®Jordan¡¯ in a couple of days; Arthur currently present to help her maneuver the hassles that came with a name change, along with the legalization of her numerous assets. Lilian¨Conce she had recovered from her shock¨Chad been on a steady harangue in an attempt to get her to move in, to no avail. Or a secret avail evidently, seeing as Baldy and two other men were presently hoisting a grey velvet armchair into the house. He squints at another something that looks like it was plucked out of the baroque period and addresses Alex. ¡°Please tell me you did not rob a history museum?¡± ¡°Relax, these are all my stuff.¡± She assures with a vague wave. ¡°I haven''t stolen a thing in 700-- I mean uh ¡­¡± her eyes flick to Arthur beside him, and she clears her throat tightly. ¡°What feels like 700 years.¡± Her eyes dart warily from the man back to the movers. Chris smothers a laugh. ¡°So these are all yours?¡± ¡°Hopefully you have a huge-ass storeroom.¡± She says, elbowing him playfully. ¡°Told you I was rich. Possibly even richer than you.¡± Chris scoffs. ¡°It''s not a competition.¡± ¡°You''re right.¡± Alex sniffs imperiously. ¡°If it was, I''d have won.¡± Thankfully, Arthur, ever the Lawyer, chooses that exact moment to harrumph loudly. ¡°Right. This is Arthur, my personal attorney.¡± He introduces, shaking his head slightly when Arthur stretches a hand out to Alex. He retracts it. ¡°He''s here to legalize the things you''d prefer we keep hush-hush.¡± Chris concludes. ¡°Pleased to meet you, Artie. Can I call you Artie?¡± Alex asks genially. ¡°You can call me whatever you want to.¡± Arthur chuckles, digging into his jacket to retrieve a complimentary card. ¡°Since today has been converted into an impromptu moving day, how about you give me a call, and we can reschedule sometime before next week?¡± he offers the card, which Alex accepts gratefully. ¡°Done. Done. London.¡± She grins, Chris and her watching Arthur bow slightly before getting into his car and driving off. ¡°You didn''t tell me you were moving in.¡± Chris says suddenly, belatedly hoping he didn''t come off too strong and wind up offending Alex. Alex to her credit, hums knowingly, nary a flicker of outrage on her face. ¡°I wanted it to be a surprise.¡± And a surprise it truly was. ¡°You want to see surprised, wait till Lilian gets home.¡± An SUV rolls up in front of them, Chris taking an abrupt moment to scrutinize the vehicle to no result. It seemed the Jordan compound was popular today. ¡°Yours?¡± He asks Alex, both of them staring at the parked car. ¡°Nope. Albie¡¯s.¡± Alex responds, brightening exclusively at the man who steps out of the vehicle. Chris¡¯ eyes widen inconceivably at the sight before him. Albert Wesson was in his home! Well, in his compound, not that he''d recount the story like this later. Albert Wesson, co-owner of Smith and Wesson, was a hermit. More popular for the fact that he had not once been seen in almost 70 years than for the fraudulent Law Firm run by his partner. A rumor of his death had circulated in the late 90s, the photo that had gone around then bearing a striking resemblance to how he looked presently, almost 30 years after the fact. Alex was chattering away comfortably at the man, with a familiarity that Chris doubted he could explain. Heck, she had even referred to the man with a nickname. ¡°Wait, wait, hold on,¡± Chris says, as soon as he''s in control of his tongue once again, shock dialed down to a respectable level, he turns to Alex. ¡°How the hell do you know Albert Wesson?¡± Alex''s brows furrow at Albert in question. ¡°Albert?¡± She asks, prompting the man to lean on his walking stick and roll his eyes. ¡°I look like a white-haired Nonagenarian.¡± He grunts unimpressed, ¡°The Harry Potter jokes would practically write themselves.¡± Alex''s lips spread into an amused grin once more, Chris taking an embarrassing amount of time to process that particular statement. Harry Potter¨C ¡°Albus, your real name is Albus?¡± He asks, and yeah he could see the slight resemblance. ¡°Hey Albie, think fast.¡± Alex says, before tossing something at the man. Chris has a moment of panic where he thinks whatever Alex tossed would clunk Albert¨CAlbus over the head. Rearing back in shock instead, when his wrinkled hand darts out to deftly snatch the thing from midair. There is a deep humming sound, Chris averting his eyes from the bright purple flash for a split second, turning back to see a dapper young man. Jet black hair, decent jawline, dressed in the exact same clothes as Albus, and sporting a matching walking stick¨C ¡°What just happened?¡± Chris crows, eyes blinking rapidly as he processes, his arms extending for a fight on their own accord. Alex steps into his line of sight, ensuring his focus is entirely on her, as she pacifies him down from what was shaping up to be a monumental panic attack. Albus quickly rids himself of the walking stick and knife. Shooting a sweet smile at the truck driver who has just stepped out of the house, confusion etched all over his face. Another mover joins him in the parking lot, inciting him back to work, which he blearily returns to with a shake of his head. ¡°I''ll be sure to fulfill my part of the deal, Alex.¡± Albus says quickly, probably realizing his continued presence was becoming problematic for everyone involved. ¡°Yeah,¡± Alex says from her hovering position over Chris, ¡°I''ll call you.¡± Albus parts with a small nod, slipping back into his SUV before it drives away. ¡°Are you alright?¡± She asks Chris, who has mostly gotten his hyperventilating in check. ¡°I''m not crazy, right? A ninety-something-year-old man just regressed back to his thirties. Right?!¡± He asks, eyes darting to and fro in befuddlement. ¡°Twenties, but Yes.¡± Alex responds. And Chris'' voice hits a new pitch. ¡°I¡¯m crazy?!¡± ¡°No! You aren''t crazy.¡± She glances discreetly at the movers behind them then back at Chris. ¡°Why don''t we take this enlightening discussion inside?¡± She smiles tightly. Chris nods gently, and they both head into the house dodging two of the movers hoisting a vintage sofa through the front door. He distractedly picks up a framed painting of Lincoln on the floor. ¡°Why do you have a painting of Lincoln?¡± ¡°Because he gave it to me.¡± Alex shrugs, sinking into the couch in the Living room with a content sigh. ¡°This is my new favorite couch.¡± She declares. ¡°Abraham Lincoln gave you this picture?¡± Chris asks incredulously, and Alex rears up to shush him. ¡°Yes, he did.¡± She says quietly, neck angling to make sure no movers were currently in earshot. ¡°Check the lower left corner, he signed it.¡± She adds once the vicinity turns up mover-free. Chris angles it appropriately to see, he actually did. ¡°You knew Lincoln?¡± He asks, hand subconsciously stroking the painting like it were a cat. ¡°Of course, I did.¡± Alex preens. ¡°Who do you think spawned the Civil War?¡± Chris stares dreamily at the painting in his hand. ¡°So, he knew about you?¡± Alex hums, lifting her feet to cross on the center table. ¡°A lot of people through time have known about me.¡± Chris smacks her feet off the table, before taking the armchair opposite hers, painting still in hand. ¡°I have so many questions.¡± He says nearly inaudibly, brows furrowed in intense thought. ¡°Take your time, put your thoughts together. I''m not going anywhere.¡± Alex relaxes back in her seat. Chris¡¯ head lifts up at the assurance, mouth opening to say something when Lilian walks in the door. ¡°Oh my!¡± She exclaims, a hand to her chest as she takes in the increasing furniture and antiquities around them. Chris sets the painting down, Alex giving a small wave from her comfortable lounge. ¡°Hi, honey.¡± ¡°Hey, Lilian.¡± ¡°All these men with the things ¡­¡± Lilian halts as a mover passes by her, Viking axe in hand. She points at it in shock. ¡°Chris, that man has an axe.¡± ¡°Don''t look at me, you asked her to move in.¡± Chris huffs, arms crossed. Alex sputters. ¡°I have a lot of stuff! I¡¯ve been around a while!¡± ¡°I might have slightly underestimated exactly how much ''a while'' was, and what it consisted of.¡± Lilian strides over to give Chris a peck on his head. ¡°Bet you''re loving the Jaguar and Car Collection now, huh?¡± He angles his head at her, a wry smile painting his features. ¡°Speaking of cars," Lilian sits up straight, posture set to scold, eyes in dangerous slits. "please tell me that''s not a new one parked outside?¡± Chris makes an offended noise, hand flying to clasp over his heart. ¡°No, that one''s mine.¡± Alex says before he can properly guilt trip Lilian. Lilian turns to Alex eyes softening at the announcement. And if this wasn''t a clear case of favoritism. ¡°It looks expensive.¡± She tells Alex, eyes scrunched together in apprehension. ¡°Didn''t you hear honey? She''s rich-rich.¡± Chris shoots Alex a flat grin. ¡°Actually, I spent $100 dollars on that car.¡± Alex relishes the look of disbelief on her audience''s faces. ¡°It was ''69, and Woodstock was in full swing.¡± She says haughtily. Chris, ever the opportunist, pounces at a chance to one-up her. ¡°So, technically you''ve never had to actually work for your money? Just a couple of shit you''ve amassed over time?¡± He flails a hand about vigorously, eyes gleaming in anticipated victory. ¡°¡®Technically¡¯ ¡­" Alex draws the word out, having to stifle a laugh at the peeved look on Chris'' face. "I''ve worked for literally everything I own, even the gifts. My ''payments'' just so happened to shoot up in value over time.¡± Chris defeatedly looks to Lilian for help, who raises her hands in a ''leave me out of this'' gesture, amusedly choosing to stay out of the discussion. ¡°I win this round. Good talk Chris.¡± Alex lifts from the couch, a victorious smile on her face, as she heads for the grey velvet armchair beside her. ¡°I think I''m going to take this upstairs.¡± Her eyes dart to the door in approving check before hoisting the hefty chair up the stairs like it were a feather pillow. Chris turns to his wife, who has a surprised hand covering her gaping mouth and agrees with her sentiment. It was one thing to hear about Alex''s uniqueness or experience parts of it in near darkness. Watching it happen in real time certainly was a different kind of trip. He snorts as he remembers his reaction not 30 minutes ago. If only Lilian had been here for the transmogrification thing. "Really Lilian? ''To have and to hold''? ''To love and to cherish''?" He snaps without real heat. "Any of these statements ringing any bells?" Lilian hums at him in indulgence, placing a bribe of a peck on his cheek. "This was an argument about who had the most money." She says, before starting up the stairs as well. "I''m sure God will understand."