Showing posts with label mystery. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mystery. Show all posts

Monday, August 3, 2015

A Lady By Day

    Lady Angeline fixed her eyes on the jeweled goblet in her hand with an empty stare. It was still full to the brim with the wine that was given to her by her servant. She sat alone at the head of her father's massive dining room table, which had been masterfully carved out of a rare mahogany and was quite the centerpiece for this room.
    She was dressed comfortably, but always in the latest fashion, her dark blue and black gown sparkled softly in the light of the setting sun, but with no guests and her parents gone, its design and low cut top seemed pointless with no one else there to notice it. Still, the last rays of the sun felt wonderful on her fair skin.
    She could tell right away that she was losing control. She knew that she no longer had the taste for wine, or the well prepared meal in front of her that had gone cold half an hour ago. Her real insatiable cravings, that were slowly consuming her every thought, simply would not go away, and could not be ignored.
    "Sevastien." She called out into the empty room.
    Within moments her servant entered the room and stood politely off to the side and fully at attention. He spoke softly, "Yes my lady?"
    She set the goblet down on the table in front of her. "A change of plans for tonight my dear. I think I will be going out." She smiled to herself eagerly at the thought. Sevastien had been her servant for many years. He knew what this meant.
    "Understood. Shall I arrange a coach for transportation?" Sevastien asked as she stood from her chair to face him.
    His calm demeanor was why he was her favorite. They had been living together for a long time. She knew she could trust him with anything. Though dressed meticulously in his servant attire, he had an unruly head of hair, graying slightly now after all these years, but never losing its brown sheen. He stood patiently waiting for her response as she looked him over. She could tell by his inability to look upon her that there was that gleam in her soft blue eyes again. That insatiable hunger. He shifted uncomfortably. She noticed, blinked several times as if to regain focus, then looked away.
    "No, thank you my dear." She finally replied, twisting a long and beautiful black lock of her hair around a slender finger. She could feel her growing excitement. She looked back at him over her shoulder playfully. "I think I'll walk."
    Lady Angeline lived in her father's enormous estate. Lord Raynold Solvari was his name. The Solvari family owned the second largest property in all the city, almost entirely because they were responsible for the largest exportation of uncut diamonds in the entire region. Though the Solvari's were known for their secrets and seclusion, with many members of their family leaving the estate as rarely as once a month, it was no secret that they loved all manners of art. The hallways throughout the entire estate were filled with elaborate paintings and priceless works of art. Statues of relatives and great historic heroes, paintings of great landscapes, and marvelous figurines cluttered the walls each competing for its own place within the estate.
    As she wove her way through the seemingly endless hallways and corridors, glancing here and there at some of her favorite pieces of art, Sevastien kept pace with her, quietly giving orders to other servants on how to tidy up the estate for the evening. She reached the great entrance hall. Her mother spent a great deal of money on this room's design. A twin set of marble staircases led down to the main floor in the shape of a large oval. In the center hung an enormous chandelier made of glass but with diamonds embedded into the outside of the frame. If one were to look upon it from afar, it would resemble a massive pear diamond in all of its sparkling splendor. It was a shame that her parents were away on business for the rest of the month. She loved going out with them when they were around.
    "I am afraid that I might not be back until morning." She reminded Sevastien as she began her decent down the marble stairs. "Should that be the case, have my bedchamber prepared, I might just sleep in 'til noon." she said chuckling to herself.
    "Of course my lady. Everything will be in order upon your return." Sevastien said reassuringly with a polite bow. Though Lady Angeline was far too wrapped up in her own mind to look his way.
    She stopped to admire her family's favorite painting while she grabbed her warm coat and headed for the front entrance. Doing this had grown to become one of her family's fondest customs. It was an immense painting beautifully framed and displayed for all to see as they exited through the estate's front door. The painting was of a man in his late fifties, her great-great grandfather, Antonious Solvari, standing in a dense redwood forest full of great hills and caverns in the dead of night. A forest that still surrounded their city to this day, with ancient trees some of which have been standing for thousands of years. In the picture, Antonious was surrounded by a pack of ferocious grey and black wolves. Wolves had all but fled these lands now. They had been disappearing steadily for as long as anyone could remember. People just assumed it was because of the constant expansions of a city being established so close to their old dens. However, back in her great-great grandfather's time, they roamed these lands in great packs. There seemed to be dozens of them illustrated in the painting in great detail before her. All of them snarling in the faint moonlight and closing in for the sure kill. However, the man depicted in the painting was far from afraid, in fact it would appear that it was quite the opposite. Antonious was not even looking at the wolves at all. Instead his eyes followed any person who chose to look upon him, no matter where they chose to view the painting, and he stared at those who gazed upon him with a knowing grin.
    She knew just where she was headed. Her hunger only increased as she made the long walk along the well paved cobblestone path. The guards at the front entrance to her estate greeted her with a simple "Madam," and a knowing nod as they opened the gates, flintlock rifles close at their sides.
    It seemed that the city was growing bigger every day. There was never a dull moment and people came pouring in from all around the countryside. Though she lived well on its outskirts, she often ventured in during nights likes these when she needed to get away. As she traversed the city streets, full of busy citizens and with city watchmen posted on every other block, she took in the changes in the atmosphere. She could taste the sweat of men headed home from a long day's work. Smell the prepared suppers of those waiting anxiously for their loved ones to arrive home safely. She was barely able to control herself. Her pupils dilated as the hunger began to take over and dominate her better judgement. Only through sheer willpower was she able to continue on, mentally calming her less civil sensibilities. Making her way to the more high-end establishments, she finally arrived at the place she desired. An older but very well-known and frequented tavern, The Black Dog. She walked inside with excitement clearly written across her face.
     She absolutely loved this tavern! It seemed the most intriguing people from every corner of the city gathered here to enjoy their evenings with good company. The tavern was dimly lit with ample seating for dining as well as a seated bar for ordering drinks. There were people playing cards and gambling away their hard earned fortunes and others keeping mostly to themselves. There was a large hearth in the back right corner and above it, mounted on a sturdy wooden pedestal, was an exquisite carving of a wild black dog. It was said that the tavern's original owner Mira was attacked by a monstrous bear while traveling on the roads to this very city, alone and nearly helpless, she considered fleeing her carriage and abandoning her goods until a black dog came barreling out of the forest to her rescue and barked viciously at the bear, staring it down with its wild brown eyes until the bear retreated. Afterwards the dog followed the carriage until she reached the city, guarding her from all that would do her harm and then disappeared back into the forest, never to be seen again. It was stories like that, so full of mystery and danger, that drew Angeline here instead of to other establishments.
   "Well look who decided to stumble on in! I thought I'd be long retired before you ever showed up here again Lady Angeline! Welcome, do grace us with your stunning presence." Dale the current tavern keeper said with a booming voice and a warm smile.
    All eyes turned on her and many stayed to admire her alluring beauty. She left her coat by the door and walked over to the bar as if she knew everyone was still watching.
    "Oh hush now Dale, I was only gone a few weeks! You still have many years left in you before you will have to retire!" She replied playfully, grinning with every syllable.
    "Retire from work or from this good green Earth?" He asked, and they both shared a laugh. "How is your dear mother doing?" He asked. He was an older man now, a big rotund fellow with a head full of gray hair and grayer whiskers coating his face.
    "Esmeralda is doing very well, I will be sure to tell her that you asked after her when she gets back." She glanced around and could tell that most of the other patrons went back to their business, a few eavesdroppers still listened in, but they talked openly anyway.
     "So what can I do ya for tonight my lady?" Dale asked casually, attempting to be formal with her again.
     "Oh...I am not quite sure what I am looking for just yet. How about you get me started with some of that mead I can't get enough of while I try and decide." She replied with a wink.
    "Of course my lady you just take as much time as you need, I'll set you up with some of my famous 'honey water'." He said, raising his eyebrows enthusiastically.
    As he left to fetch her drink she turned to watch some of the other patrons. She loved to watch people. She found it highly amusing to see how much she could learn about someone without ever speaking to them. As she sat there patiently, taking her mead in hand from Dale, she overheard several of the other patrons but none seemed to catch her interest. As her eyes explored the dimly lit tavern, she happened upon a reclusive man whom she just could not take her gaze off of. She watched him with great interest for a long time undisturbed. No one would here in this middle class tavern would dare approach a lady uninvited.
    He was well dressed. He sat by himself at a small table for two in a corner by one of the tavern's windows. He had a drink with him but he had not touched it in a while. When he was not peering out of the window, he was scribbling words down in a small journal he kept on his person. Most intriguing of all was that everyone else in here was dressed like a well off merchant or businessman, he was not. In fact everything about him was somehow...unusual. It was thrilling to Angeline, she had to know more. Was this the one she would pick tonight? She ground her teeth slowly at the thought, gripping her mug of mead until her knuckles turned white. The anticipation was almost too much to bare.
    He had short cropped brown hair with some facial scruff. The man had probably been working all day she thought from the length of his prickly beard. He seemed like he could have been a soldier or an off duty city guard. He was well built, but not stocky. He wore a brown leather jacket with a warm furry collar, probably to help shield against the chilled night air. He was well dressed and well kept, but unlike damn near everyone else in here, he was not trying to flaunt it. There was nothing lavish about him. He simply kept to himself. She could not wait any longer. She had to meet him. She turned to the tavern keeper.
    "Dale, I think I know what I will have tonight." She informed him standing from the bar. He gave a nod and a smile as he scratched at his beard and turned to take orders from other customers.
    Angeline walked coolly over to the man. He did not seem to notice her until she was nearly right beside him. He looked up with a curious expression, eyebrows furrowed as he was caught off guard. Yet he was careful that his eyes met her own and did not linger elsewhere. Oh, she knew she would like him already.

***

    "Are you waiting for someone?" Lady Angeline asked, motioning to the window.
    He followed her hand motion and took a little too long before he responded. No, I'm...I'm sorry I came here alone. Have I taken your usual table or something?" He asked hesitantly, taking a sip of his drink to avert his gaze.
"Not at all, I simply grew tired of the droll chatter at the bar and was looking for...better company." she flashed a disarming smile.
He coughed having almost choked on his drink. She took advantage of the moment and sat down without bothering to ask permission. Her dark dress gleaming in the soft light of the candle resting in the center of their quaint little table.
"I know this is forward of me. My name is Lady Angeline Sovari, my father owns the large estate not far from this place. I venture in here every so often, this is quite possibly my favorite establishment in the entire city!" He could tell that she was excited.
    "I have heard of you before my lady, I am most honored to have you share a table with me this evening, I am Vincent Cardwell, I was born and raised on the east side of the city, where the old watermills used to be, down by the docks." He explained.
"Ah, yes I have heard of it but have never been! The waterfront I believe they call it!"
"That's right my lady." He replied as he tucked away his book sitting closed on the table. It was clear that he would not be using it again for a while.
"And what is it you were doing just now if I may ask? What is it you were writing in there?" She pointed, reaching across the table seemingly unabashedly at the chest pocket where he had put away the book. He reflexively followed her hand motions again. He got a strong whiff of her faint perfume as she reached across the table. It took him a few heartbeats to regain focus. He blinked it off and recovered very well however.
"It's a...uh...journal I keep for my work."
"May I?" She turned her outstretched hand over so it was palm up and smiled innocently.
"Listen, I'm terribly sorry my lady, but my work requires that I don't ever lose this, or share its contents with anyone." He said almost reluctantly. He got another hint of her perfume in the air when she turned her wrist. Her perfume was intoxicating. It pulled at something almost primal inside of him.
"My apologies then, may I instead ask what it is that you do? She asked seeming rather unimpressed.
"I'm a...mercenary of sorts."
"What does that mean exactly?"
"Well...people hire me to do jobs for them. If I do them to their satisfaction I get paid a handsome fee for my efforts."
"What kind of jobs do mercenaries typically get hired for?" She asked cocking her head slightly to the side with intrigue.
"Oh, all sorts of things. The more dangerous the job, the more they pay you for it." He replied. He rested his elbow comfortably on his side of the table.
"Dangerous you say?" Her soft blue eyes seemed to glimmer in the light and he was already having a hard enough time not staring at her. She was beyond gorgeous. "So you must be quite brave to willingly take on jobs like those."
Was it just his imagination or was she toying with him? "Or foolish." He replied with a chuckle. He sipped more of his drink.
"And why were you staring out the window so intently earlier?"
He stared out the window again and seemed deep in thought. "The moon is particularly clear tonight, there doesn't seem to be a cloud in sight. I was just thinking that it's not every night that you get to enjoy such a brilliant full moon." He finally replied while pointing.
"I know exactly what you mean." She said softly. Her elbow now resting on her side of the table as she leaned in to gaze up at the pale moon high in the sky. Vincent tried to look at her but was lost in a great mountain of her cleavage, her body bathed in the moons pale light, he almost had to slap himself to regain focus and pull his eyes up to her face.
"Would you...go for a walk with me Vincent?" He noticed she was staring at him. "The moonlight is so perfect tonight, we could walk among the redwoods and not even need a lamp." She was still staring at him. No, she was focusing her gaze very intently upon his lips as she started biting the corner of her own full bottom lip. Was it that easy? Did he just say 'yes' and they got up and left together?
"Sure," He heard himself answer. "I could go for a walk."
They got up and left together soon after. The chill of the night air was quite welcoming to him from the heat of the previous moments.
"Have you ever seen the south side on nights like these? The view from the forest is absolutely breath taking!" She was getting excited again.
"After you then my lady. I have no doubt I'll get us lost if I take the lead."
She chuckled at him and led the way through the winding streets as they made their way southward. They made idle small talk nearly the entire way. He was a very good conversationalist when he was not distracted by her incredible beauty and could focus on the paths ahead. They talked about the city life and about her occasional pursuits for interesting people. She asked all about him and where he grew up as well. He replied that he did not think he was all that interesting. But clearly she thought that was not the case, for she had picked him out of everyone in the tavern tonight.
Her pace quickened as they approached the southernmost entrance to the great redwood forest.
"It's been too long since I have been able to walk among these trees. Oh, I have surely missed them." She remarked as she wandered her way through the forest and he followed along behind her. She would slow down and admire a particularly tall or misshapen tree here and there as they walked, glancing back around to smile at him as they traveled deeper and deeper into the dense forest.
"My great-great grandfather was one of the first to explore these forests." She continued. "There are hundreds of hills and caverns everywhere. It was not far from here that I am told he found his first diamond. Deep inside one of these caves."
She looked ethereal in the pale moonlight. Its soft glow dancing off her smooth skin and sparkling with every twist and turn of her dress. Every curve of her body. "You know," She began as she slowed to a stop near a small clearing in the forest. "You are the first stranger I have meet in almost thirteen years who knows what I am." She said coyly. She was smiling at him, a short distance away. The light filtered through the trees behind her casting her face in an eerie shadow, but her eyes seemed to glow faintly through the dark.
He dropped his relaxed composure instantly. "How long have you known?" He asked evenly. He took a step to the side, setting his feet wider apart. A fighter's stance.
"From the beginning of course." She chuckled playfully and tilted her head to the side to keep strands of her long hair from covering her gorgeous blue eyes. "I could read what you were scribbling down in your little book." She smiled. A gorgeous smile, seductive and yet sweetly innocent at the same time.
His heart seemed to miss a beat. She could see what he had written down? She must have been thirty paces away when he was writing in that tavern, and he had been writing by candle light!
"Not all of it of course, though...let's see. 'Over seventeen missing persons that I have been led to believe had last frequented The Black Dog tavern.', 'fifteenth day of no real suspects or meaningful leads, will have to investigate from inside the establishment.', 'Tavern keeper is still the prime suspect.'" She recited the notes he had written for himself perfectly. She saw the expression of disbelief he gave her and clapped in applause for him. "I admire you Vincent. You were very close to being right. And all of that in just a few short weeks? You must be quite the...mercenary."
This time when she smiled, it was all teeth. Gleaming white elongating teeth, her smile stretched grotesquely wide and her whole body seemed to shudder as she let out a soft groan. Her teeth were getting longer, growing into sharp fangs as her jaws cracked and extended to allow room for their new fangs. Vincent took a step back, the horrible truth that he sought after was finally being realized. Trying to keep his composure, he looked down and reached into his jacket to produce the slender matchlock pistol he kept with him at all times. When he looked back up, she was gone.
He had only taken his eyes off of her for a second. He looked around trying to take in his surroundings and pin point where she could have gone. In the dead of night the pale moon was the only source of light as it flooded through the tall redwood trees. He needed proof. Proof of their existence to bring to his employers. If he could kill her while she was in this state, it would be enough to start a city-wide investigation. This was the hunt he was waiting for. Though he was certain, for the moment at least, he was not the one doing the hunting.
A voice sounded then, as he cautiously stepped between the trees in his search. It sounded like Angeline's, though it was almost hypnotic and far less human.
"Can you feel it? Can you taste it Vincent? The hunger." The voice seemed to start in one direction and end elsewhere. Could she really be moving that fast? "My great-great grandfather found the mining caves all those years ago. And with them...within their depths...he found so much more. Have you ever wondered why there are so few wolves left here now? They would gather in great numbers and attacking us on sight. They can sense it. The gifts that we possess. It drives them mad with fear."
He stood still, waiting for the faintest sound of her movements. He lifted his jacket collar to block against the chill night air. His pistol was lit. He was ready.
     "So whatever this is, it runs in your bloodline. The entire Sovari family is cursed! That's the reason for so much seclusion. You're all monsters of the dark." He spat. Tired of her games. He heard a twig snap off in the distance and turned to face the sound. He was ready!
 "Monsters of the dark..." She echoed. Chuckling once more. "Allow me to step into the light." What he saw then, would haunt him until the end of his days. A creature stepped out before him, one hundred paces from where he stood. A tattered and ruined blue and black dress around her. Lanky pale arms with long black, dog like hairs extended into long fingers with sharp menacing claws. A slightly hunched back revealed an impressively strong chest and neck. Angeline's face was inhuman. An extended jaw revealed wicked canines and extremely sharp fangs. Her eyes glowed a soft blue, and she sniffed the air as if she could smell him quite easily from that distance. Her pupils were almost fully dilated and she shuddered visibly with an insatiable hunger. A low rumble came from her lips. Turning into a steady, menacing growl.
     "I...need to taste your flesh." She mumbled almost unable to speak anymore.
 Vincent could hardly think, could hardly breathe. Monsters were not supposed to be real! He raised his gun to her. At this range he might miss. He would only get one shot before it was too late. She saw him raise the gun, and charged at him. With unnerving speed. She was laughing, joyous laughter, it sounded freeing.
 She closed the distance between them with great loping strides. Sixty yards. Thirty yards. Vincent fired his weapon, hitting her square in the chest. The creature shrieked in pain and crashed to the ground before him and, after a moment of writhing in pain, lay quite still. Vincent let out a visible sigh of relief. He almost laughed to himself. He tucked away his pistol after disposing of the spent igniter and approached the beast, drawing a long dagger he kept tucked against his leg.
 "I am sorry, Lady Angeline, but unfortunately my employers need proof or else this whole nightmare will have just been a waste." He knelt down before her, examining the still creature. He poked her with his long dagger, just to be safe. "It's finally over." He said with another sigh of relief. He stepped over her and moved to roll her onto her back when he felt something grab onto his leg, and experienced intense pain as something squeezed and his bone snapped. He screamed in shock as he collapsed to the ground beside her body, he looked down to see one of her clawed hands locked around his once sturdy leg. She lifted her face up then, cold glowing blue eyes staring into his warm brown ones. Her gaping maw dripping with an insatiable hunger as she pulled him in close by his broken leg. He screamed in agony as he tried helplessly to flail and kick his shattered limb loose. 
 "Please no! Don't!" He cried out in vain, his struggling only made her grip tighten. "Angeline, stop this! Please!" He trembled with sheer terror as she dragged him in. "People will know that I'm missing!" He doubted she could speak even if she wanted to, so clearly lost in her desires as she was. He tried frantically to stab her with the long dagger in his hand and after several attempts it sunk into her shoulder and she howled in pain. Faster than he could possibly react she reached across with her other clawed hand and grabbed him firmly by the wrist. Yanking hard, she pulled him so that they were almost face to face. For a single moment in time, all was still under the pale moonlight. He looked at her, and she look at him. The chill night air rushed by, and just the sounds of his heavy breathing disturbed the silence of the night. Then she ripped him to pieces.

***

    It was late the next afternoon when she awakened in her bed. Tired, naked and filthy. Vincent's tattered journal rested unopened on her nightstand. She had definitely been out all night. As she started to sit up she felt a sharp pain in her shoulder, she looked to discover it had been bandaged along with a smaller bandage just above her breast. They would heal in a few days' time. She headed to the latrine, where she was pleasantly surprised by a hot bath awaiting her. Sevastien always had good timing. It was one of the many reasons why she liked him so much. She washed up, carefully cleaning the dirt and filth off her smooth pale skin, dressed herself in a comfortable white dress of the latest fashion, and made her way to the dining hall. There, Sevastien was patiently waiting for her with a welcome smile and a polite bow.
"Good afternoon, Lady Angeline! It is a pleasant surprise to see you up so early!"
She laughed at his playfulness. "Would you believe it?" She asked him with a gorgeous and beaming smile only matched by her natural beauty. "I'm absolutely famished!"

Thursday, October 30, 2014

To See a New Dawn

    Martin walked sluggishly up the stairs to his apartment. It was only five floors, it's good exercise. Or at least that's what he managed to tell himself everyday after work. Some small part of him was convinced that this daily ritual was good for his health. Though it hardly seemed to show any effect on his body. Thirty-eight damn years on this Earth and he was already growing fat. Or was that just his own unreasonable self doubt? Maybe even a little pity now that he thought about it.
    The building was fairly old, not too old to look rundown and abused, due to recent refurbishing. Though he could imagine that the costs must have been pretty steep for the new owner. The walls were still mostly plaster and wood and the floors had little tile and far too much carpet. It made the transition from the hard stairs to the hallways a small comfort he supposed.
    As he reached the fifth floor of his quiet apartment complex he wondered how much of what he did mattered. Martin had been working for the same company for twelve long years. Gathering and interpreting data for groups of scientists he had never met. Whom he would probably never meet if he worked there another forty years. Was this a mid-life crisis? Is that what all this garbage running through my head is? Almost half of my life is over and spent and what do I have to show for it?
    Martin opened up the door to his apartment, 507, just as the man from 509 managed to swing his door open as he was leaving. What was his name again?
    "Hey, it's Martin right?" the man asked as he tested his own door handle behind him. He always did that, the door locked automatically but he probably knew that. The man looked smart, wore glasses, always dressed nice if not casual. His dark skin was pretty much the complete opposite of my own ghostly hue. The sun pretty much goes right through me, or turns me redder than a Christmas ornament. The man had hazel eyes though, rare for that skin complexion, almost seems to offset or compliment him depending on how long you made eye contact.  "You just getting in?" The man asked. "These days are only getting longer man I'm telling you." He started to walk over to me as I began to step inside. He noticed my movement however and changed his course towards the elevators instead. I did something socially unacceptable again didn't I?
    "Hey." I awkwardly call back to him as he begins walking down the hallway. He looks over his shoulder but I can tell that he's in no hurry for the moment. So I guess I have no choice but to attempt to redeem myself. "Hey, sorry...I just wanted to...make sure the lights were off in my apartment." I managed to squeeze a full sentence out of my system. Maybe miracles do happen.
    He chuckles at me, though he can clearly sense my discomfort. "The name's Barry. I've seen you a few times, but I can tell when a man needs his privacy." He walks over and shakes my hand. He's got quite the grip, and my hand's nothing but long fingers. "Just wanted to say hello since I caught you before I left." He lets go of my hand finally and starts to head down the hallway. "Well, I'm off to see a man about a couple of car parts, nice to meet you again." He flashes a perfect smile as he turns and makes his way for the elevator. I know for sure that this is the end of the conversation at last. So I waved goodbye to him as he walks away, realize all too late that I waved to his back and he never knew.
    Boy do I suck at conversations when I'm tired.
    The apartment is just as Martin had left it much earlier in the day. It was a small place, just a kitchen, living room, bedroom and bathroom, nothing fancy. A pale blue carpet covered most of it, except the kitchen and bathroom of course. He walks over to the refrigerator and opens it with a forceful tug. Empty. Or damn close to it. Just a bare refrigerator with all the essentials...butter, ketchup, a few loaves of bread. Oh and what's this? He lifts up the bread, cheese. Couldn't make a decent meal without this fine piece of...maybe it was cheddar. Probably provolone. Martin closes the refrigerator with a depressed look forming on his face. As fortune would have it, he had already eaten dinner today. He would still have to go shopping in the morning before work. The day was longer than usual due to some crazy malfunction with some of the lab equipment. Something about some kid's blood he had tested he figured. Hell if he knew, he just called it in and got to sit in the lounge room for an extra hour and a half before he was allowed to clean up and leave work. Dinner at the cafeteria was quiet at least, everyone else he knew had already been long gone.
    Martin made his way into his bedroom, dragging his feet behind him as he went like they were tied to ship anchors. His bed was fortunately a full sized bed. He had a small round desk made of some type of wood in the corner with a lamp resting on it and a big comfy office chair he had managed to steal from his workplace over a year ago. The wonderful thing even rocked back if you switched the settings with the handles underneath. Other than that were his dresser and his closet which contained mostly clothes and belongings that he did not need on a daily basis.
As he made his way over to his bed and pulled back the sheets the fatigue hit him harder than he expected. He kicked off his shoes and barely managed to take off his nice pants and shirt before he was fast asleep.
    He awoke with the light of a new sun breaching the horizon. His eyes were still cloudy with dreams clinging desperate for a few more hours of attention. Something about his mother telling him not to wake up, to stay out of his room. A hint of a smile formed on his lips, to stay out of the room he was currently staying in? Well that's why they are just dreams after all he guessed.
    As his eyes began to clear he noticed something was off. He blinked a few times to fight away the sleep.
The light where the sun was coming from was too bright, he had shades on his windows, only small rays of light could fight their way through the gaps in that old thing. Then what was this?
    Martin sat up. He rubbed a long and bony hand over his eyes and looked towards the side of the room. His lamp was on. In its brightest setting, sitting in its exact spot, unmoved, but inexplicably, on. He looked over further, and his breath caught as a chill went down his spine.
    "Hello Martin." a calm, deep voice said to him.
Sitting in Martin's chair off in the other corner, was a man. At least he guessed it to be a man from the sound of its voice. The light from the far corner casting him in an eerie shadow. "Do you know...who I am?" the creature said. As he turned in the chair a small sense of relief hit Martin as he could make out arms and legs all covered in black cloth to hide his features. The man sat in a relaxed position with one leg crossed over the other, clearly content to sit here and watch me squirm.
    "No, I'm afraid I don't sir." Martin said nervously as he sat up even straighter in his bed.
    "Then you can feel free to call me Nemo." The man began popping his knuckles, not in the way those people tended to do in the movies before a fight. He did it slowly, one joint at a time in a slow and unnerving pattern. Right hand down to the little finger, then left hand down to the little finger, then the left thumb, then the right thumb, then both wrists at the same time.
    "Why are you here? This is my home. You are tresspassing." Martin managed to squeak out. Clearly not very intimidating. He swallowed hard and began to fumble with his bed sheets. The man clearly noticed.
    "I will be the one to ask the questions here. Do you understand?" The man did not wait for a response in the slightest. "You and I are going to have...a conversation of sorts here and now, during this most untimely hour." The man paused as he rolled his wrists again making them pop. "Also, if at any point during our conversation, you attempt to get out of that bed that you now so comfortably sit in, you will die. Most horribly." The man spoke slowly and clearly and was almost unnaturally calm given the news that he had just given Martin.
    The blood vanished from Martin's already pale face. He looked over at the clock sitting on his dresser. It read 3:49 AM. Perfect, everyone on this good Earth would be long asleep by now. He even doubted anyone would hear him if he should scream. Martin was pretty good at calculations. He did not like the odds of calling this man's bluff.
    He gave in. "I...I accept your terms, Nemo sir." He began scratching his arm nervously, doing small pinches, trying to see if he could wake himself up, surely this was some sort of nightmare.
    "I will ask the questions and you will answer them to the best of your abilities. However, know that I have been tasked with dealing your death. So, at the end of this conversation, you will die." His ability to so calmly inform him of such terrifying news made Martin's stomach churn. How could a man so calmly do such a thing? Do I really have no say in this matter? He has to be bluffing! This can't be real!
    "However," the man said, raising his hands from their resting position, folded in his lap, in order to make a somewhat enthusiastic gesture. "I believe in something greater than you an I. A game of chance." The man flashed a hint of a smile. He was enjoying this. Took pleasure in the fear he so easily caused in others.               I'll have to do what he says for now. Clearly he's done this before. His positioning, his clothing, his unnerving calm...only someone with lots of experience could be so calm. And that sets me one more step behind him.
    "A....game?" Martin asked. Though he immediately regretted speaking. The man's eyes narrowed sharply and his hand motions stopped suddenly.
    "Yes Martin. A game. With rules that you would do well to pay attention to, for I shall not repeat them once we have started playing." He put his hands comfortably in his lap once more and let the new information sink in. Patience was clearly one of this man's virtues, and right now he might as well have all the time in the world. "Are you ready to hear the rules?" Nemo asked.
    Nothing ventured. Nothing gained. Martin swallowed again. "Yes. I think that I'm ready to listen."
    Martin was not one of the best people to have a conversation with. He lacked many social skills so most people saw him as awkward or uncomfortable. So he adapted where he could. He was an excellent listener. He could listen to two or three conversations at once and pick out the details well enough to know what was going on. He had spent many years in the cafeteria practicing by himself. Or at least that's what he liked to tell himself now at this moment where his lack of friends and social skills seemed to be coming in handy. However Martin did not play many games. He had to admit that he spent most of his free time reading many of the books that were on the shelves in his living room or watching the news.
    "Very well. Here's how the game works. I will ask you a series of questions. You, dear Martin, will answer these questions to the very best of your abilities." The man grinned at him openly. Though Martin could still hardly make out any significant facial features. "If you lie once or answer incorrectly once, you will lose something of value to you. Of my choice." Nemo said and pointed a gloved finger at himself. "If you lie twice or get two questions incorrect, I add an additional rule that you do not yet know about, to the game. If you lie three times or get three answer incorrect, then I win the game. And you, Martin, will die." he let the news settle in for a few seconds and then surprisingly, the man chuckled. And here I thought the man incapable of any sort of emotion. "Don't worry, you wont get to experience that sort of excitement just yet." Nemo said. He settled himself back to his usual calm demeanor.
    "So how do I win this game?" Martin asks. Again regretting having done so immediately as the man goes rigid for several heartbeats. Clearly this man did not enjoy being interrupted, even when he took long breaks between thoughts.So he has buttons that he doesn't like to be pushed. Might come in handy. But best not to let him know that I'm being rational and using reason. "Sorry...sorry Nemo. It won't happen again." Martin assured him as he nervously began scratching his arm and fiddling with the bed sheets again.
    Nemo began to relax a little again. But the man seemed more agitated than before. I'd do well to make good on my word.
   Nemo stood up from his chair. The man was easily 6'3''. The way he walked was almost graceful. A toned muscular form walking without making a sound for 3 paces. He reached the window and looked toward Martin as he drew the shades open revealing the dark still night. That's when Martin was sure of it. He had to be human. The man had black hair, the kind you could only get from dying it repeatedly. There was no way to tell his age, he was clean shaven, his skin tone was impossible to tell in the light. Martin knew how to pick off useful details about a person. He did it almost every day for work. But this man must have been all too aware of that for he revealed very little about himself. Until Martin looked into his eyes. Big mistake, another chill ran down his spine, this one making him physically squirm where he sat. This could not be a man. Martin was afraid again. More afraid than he had ever been in his entire life. Those cold dead orbs that this man used to look upon him. They were so light blue they were almost clear. He could feel the ice coming from them all the way across the room. Nemo walked back into the shadows cast by the lamp and sat in his chair until he was once again comfortable.
    "The way for you to win this game. Is to play until sunrise." Nemo calmly stated and pointed one gloved hand towards the now uncovered window. "When the rays of the sun hit my face you will win." He said it so plainly. Though Martin seriously doubted that it would be that easy. All he had to do was delay the game until sunrise? That didn't sound so hard, it was already 3:58 AM. The sun should be up in just a couple of hours!
    "If you should manage to win this game," He pulled from behind the couch a three foot long sword in a beautifully designed sheath the kind of which Martin had never seen before. It was a double edge blade with a gold and jewel encrusted hilt. The hilt seemed to form the mouth of a serpent, and the snake coiled its way down the sheath in a fantastic display of craftsmanship. The man rested it delicately on the floor before him. "If you should win, then I will take my own life, and this sword will pass to you. Don't get rid of it, it is worth more than you could imagine."
    Nemo seemed oddly attached to the sword. As if he'd grown up with it, spent the years it would take to master such a weapon.
    "Are you ready to begin?" Nemo asked, grim faced once more.
    "If I refuse?" Martin asked already knowing the answer.
    "That would be...unwise." Nemo didn't even bother to blink as he spoke those words.
    "Very well, we can begin. I will make it to sunset." Martin said without the slightest hint of confidence.
    "Yes...we shall see. Let's begin. Where do you work?" He folded his arms together and rested, casually rocking back and forth in Martin's amazing office chair.
    Easy enough question I suppose. "I work at Neumata Industries down town by the small shopping mall."
    "What is it exactly, that you do for Neumata Industries?"
    "I take DNA samples, mostly blood, and analyze them. I look for: abnormalities, usage of drugs, and I work in the research laboratories. There I...often take part in...classified research." He looked at Nemo, though he could hardly see his face, he doubted that 'Classified' would be a good answer for the man. Best to be truthful and safe than have a strike against me I suppose. Oh balls! Was it only 4:03? This was going to be the longest night of his life. He tried to continue but started to stumble over his own words.
    "Careful now Martin, you wouldn't want your first strike already now would you?"
    It's a rhetorical question Martin. Just continue before he gets angry. "The classified research is genetic coding. I try to enhance cellular growth and to enhance muscular density in order to create a stronger, healthier...better human being."
    "Strike one." Nemo said passively.
    "...wait what?" Martin started to say, but as he spoke Nemo moved and in the blink of an eye he was on top of him. Martin struggled, his arms flailing about as Nemo pinned him down onto the bed with practice efficiency. The man was incredibly strong, he could feel corded muscle press him onto his stomach on the bed and pin his hands behind his back. His knees locking Martin's body in place while he used a single hand to pin back both of his.
    "I ask you a question, and you answer. I asked you if you would not want your first strike, and you failed to answer me. Therefore I am now tasked with relieving you of something of value." A long slender knife appeared in his free hand that he brought down to Martin's face. The blade was razor sharp, made for nice and clean cuts. He probably wouldn't even feel it until it had done its work.
    Martin began to buck and struggle wildly but it was no use. The man simply had him trapped.
    "I wouldn't struggle so much if I were you, I might slip and take more than I intend to." Nemo stated, and Martin settled as much as his instinctual fear would allow. There was silence for a brief moment. Just the sounds of them breathing evenly. Then a faint swish as the blade disappeared and came back into Martin's view. A single drop of blood clung to the edge of the blade. Fell. Hit the pillow next to his face. Then pain. Martin began to scream but Nemo was ready and shoved his face into the pillow to muffle it. Then when Martin was almost out of air, Nemo turned him around and held something up before his eyes. A finger. Nemo climbed off of him and gave him wraps and gauze to stem the bleeding from his left hand. His ring finger was simply gone. A perfect surgical cut through tendon and bone.
    "You evil bastard! I'll kill you for this! You hear me? You cruel sick monster, how could you do this to someone?" He held up his hand for effect, blood starting to show through the makeshift bandages.
    "You knew the rules Martin, and you earned your first strike. I must admit, normally I take an entire hand, but I recently acquired that knife and thought up a good use for it just now." He noticed Martin's anger and frustration. The man was getting desperate. Desperate men were unpredictable and stupid. "Do not forget. If you leave that bed. For any reason at all. You will die a most unfortunate death." Nemo reminded.
    Martin was losing it. His mental fortitude. His edge. He couldn't think clearly anymore. He needed to calm the fuck down. Nemo was getting to him. This was why Nemo never lost. He could tell that he was playing right into Nemo's hands. He began to take deep breaths. He needed to steady himself somehow, with the bloody rag pressed against his wounded hand.
    "Better." Nemo stated. "I wouldn't want you to have to lose something else that you like," He let the threat stand as he waggled his gloved fingers with one hand and held up Martin's missing digit in his other. The sick bastard. "Shall we begin again then?"
    "Sure. What else have I got to lose?" Martin asked, voice dripping in sarcasm and regret.
    "Very well," Nemo said with a little chuckle. "Where do you work?"
    What...I already answered this damn question. What was the man getting at? "...Neumata Industries...I work at Neumata Industries."
    "And what is it that you do for Neumata Industries Martin?" Nemo asked this as he set down Martin's finger. He took a calm and impassive pose with his finger tips resting against one another and his elbows resting on the arm rests.
    Martin answered him again, this time in great detail, hoping to drain out as much of the clock as he possibly could. He went into his back logs and every sort of possible work scenario he could think of. But he had to be careful. He couldn't talk about what other people at his work did or drag it out by telling him how he got there. Still. By the time he finished answering the man it was 4:25. His plan was working. He could do this.
    "Why did you have to stay late for work today?"
    Nemo can't be just asking these questions at random, he's got to be digging for something...can he really tell if I'm lying? It's not worth the risk, I only have two strikes left.
    Martin slid back in the bed. Resting his back better against the bed's frame and propped a pillow up for himself. Stalling was his best tactic. They both knew that much, and Nemo was beginning to look impatient. No rules against making himself more comfortable though. And I don't recall there being any rules about him taking his time to think the answers over either. Nemo sat in silence, waiting. Not even as much as the sound of him breathing. It was frightening.
    "I had to stay late for work because of a malfunction with some of the equipment I was using. I was not allowed to leave the building until they were sure that I was not the cause and did not purposefully sabotage their very expensive equipment. Something about the blood I was testing, a young boys of maybe..ten or twelve years of age, wasn't agreeing with the compounds we were supposed to use. Not a single damn one. I had never seen anything like it. I finally was about to give up I...I put the sample and this newer compound I had just finished working on into the transfuser just as the alarms went off and security came and herded us all out of the building. So I had to stay until I was cleared by them to go."
    Nemo stood up suddenly. Martin flinched. Badly. Nemo noticed of course but paid no mind as he began pacing across the room. A swift set of five steps had him to the window and another set of five had him back to the chair. So he was here for information after all. That was why Martin was not allowed to lie.
    "The next questions will be harder. The rule about lying will be removed from henceforth in favor of another," Nemo stopped his pacing directly in front of him. "You will have two chances to get the questions correct or a strike will be put against you."
    Martin was panicking again. This couldn't be fair! He could change up the rules to make the game go even more in his favor? He slammed his good hand into the bed with frustration. "You can't do this! You can't change the rules in the middle of..."
   Nemo shot forward in two rapid steps and cracked his hand across Martin's face. It was a back handed slap. The kind you would give a child that didn't know his own place. Martin was stunned silent. Nemo was breathing heavily again. Was that from his own anger?
    "This is my game! I create the rules for the game and you follow them or you die. Have you been so lost in your fear that you cannot realize all of this is only happening because I allow it to? You should have been dead hours ago when first I saw you enter your quaint little apartment."
    Yet another cold nerve chilling shudder ran down Martin's spine. He could swear that his heart had stopped and still hadn't picked up again. Nemo had been in his apartment...before he had even gotten here? Was that even possible?? "But I...but...no...that's impossible." Martin shook his head unable to believe such an idea. "Why didn't you start all of this before?"
    "Strike two, Martin." Nemo seemed to visibly relax as he said the words, while Martin seemed as if he was about to throw up. "During your little temper tantrum I asked you a question to which you did not answer. The game does not stop just because you wish it to do so. As long as the sun is not on my face, and you are not dead, the game goes on." Nemo walked back over to his chair, triumphantly Martin could only imagine.
    Martin gazed at the clock once more. 5:03. Time was still on his side at the very least. And if Martin had this game figured out as much as he thought he did, then Nemo would have to start the questions all over again since Martin had gotten his second strike. However, an additional rule would be added. And that couldn't be good news.
    "As I'm sure you are well aware, the second strike gives me the right to add an additional rule to the game. My rule is this: after I ask a question, you will have fifteen seconds to respond." A smile began to form on Nemo's shadowed lips. The noose was tightening. He enjoyed a game with the highest possible stakes. Even if the odds were very much in his own favor.
    Martin looked disgusted. He spat in Nemo's general direction, knowing it would never reach, but the insult was just the same. "Begin again you prick." Not exactly how Martin imagined he would brush up on his social skills. But there was nothing quite like a trial by fire now was there?
    "Where do you work?"
    The questions began flowing again, this time, with only fifteen seconds to respond to each question, he couldn't drag his answers out to shave off some much needed time.
    Finally he caught up to where he was before with the game. "Now, for the harder questions. The lying rule has been once again switched with the rule that gives you two chances. You have fifteen seconds for each chance."
    Good, that gave him at thirty seconds give or take to figure out the answers. Not a whole lot. But worlds better than a measly fifteen. He was still nervous. What kinda questions was he going to be asked? It could be damn near anything!
    "How did I get into this apartment?" Nemo asked while smiling.
    Shit, how the hell am I suppose to know that? I never even knew the man was here until he woke me up! I don't know...I don't know. I don't have time to think this over just think of something damnit!
    "The...the window! You got it in through one of my windows." Martin replied unsure of himself.
    "Incorrect. Last try."
    If i get this damn question wrong again. I die. That's it, the end. Use your fucking head Martin! That's the one thing you're useful for! Use logic, reasoning. Anything! Ok. You know the layout of this apartment better than anyone. How else could someone get in here? The ventilation shaft is far too small. No one but the scrawniest of kids could fit through there and this man was a good bit over six feet and by no means scrawny. So if he didn't come through the windows, the safest bet would have to be...the front door. Unless there's some hidden passage or hole that I've never seen before. But I'm not willing to bet with those odds.
   "You got in through the front door." Martin smiled back at Nemo for the first time all night. It set Nemo back in his chair.
   "Very good." Nemo popped his neck left and right. "Who sent me here?"
   Martin had been wondering about that very same question. Who would try to kill Martin? Who would want him dead? Martin didn't even know anybody! He didn't have friends.
    Something warm hit his leg. Martin looked over and saw the beginnings of sunlight arcing through his window. He could win this! Just a few more questions and he would win. He would live!
    "That's easy enough. It has to be Neumata Industries."
    "Correct again Martin. Why do they want you dead?"
    Martin didn't know. It made no sense. Martin was a nobody. Unless this was some sort of political scandal clean up it was to tie up loose ends. So Martin was a loose end somehow. It would have to have something to do with the incident yesterday. But what?
    Martin was running out of his fifteen seconds of time...he had to stall. Throw out an answer, even if he got it wrong it would still buy him some precious time to think. "Because I broke the machine at work." Martin sputtered out quickly before time was up.
    "Incorrect. One try left." Nemo began to lean forwards in his chair. The game almost finished. His prize almost won.
    The sun began spreading down Martin's leg and off the edge of the bed, it started creeping its way slowly, painfully slowly, towards Nemo. Martin would never make it in time. He had one last shot at this.
    "Because I did it. I won..." Martin smiled again, chuckled even. It was the only possible answer. All the questions about work. Why Nemo had been pacing around the room after Martin had told him why he had to stay late for work. Nemo didn't know the answer himself until then. If he really knew it at all. But Martin knew it now. The blood transfusion. It had to have worked. More than worked. Martin beamed with excitement. He stood up on the bed full of triumph with only seconds remaining.
    "Because I successfully transfused the boys blood with my serum. Because I made the first super-human!"
    The sunlight hit Nemo's face as he took a step forward. The game was over now wasn't it? Nemo picked up his sword and it glistened and sparkled in the gorgeous morning hues of the sun. "With what you now know, the world is about to change. You know the boy will be hunted. He could already be dead. Get the serum to him, I took the liberty of taking both contracts on you and him. Figured I'd come visit you first since he is just a boy after all," Nemo took a slip of paper out of a pocket that Martin couldn't hope to find. "But that doesn't guarantee that they did not take multiple contracts out on him." He handed Martin the paper. It had both his address and the address of a Vincent Carlson on it. "I know that I am a monster, and a bad man. But I am not without my good characteristics. I made up this game to make me feel alive, after a lifetime of death. And I finally found someone that could best me." He looked almost relieved that he was beaten. "Evil," he said as he drew the sword out of its sheath. "Is always bad, but sometimes it is necessary." He swung the sword gracefully back and forth, as if he were giving himself one last intimate moment with the weapon. Then he held it out in both hands with the hilt up and blade pointed in at his chest, and ran himself through.
    As he bled out he looked up and saw Martin, now sitting on the edge of the bed, feet touching the soft blue carpet. Martin watched him as he lay there dying, unblinking.
    "Your day's just starting Martin," he gasped with his final breath "That boy isn't going to save himself."