Part one

Chapter 1

part 1

chapter one

Vivian Gorewell found herself in an office building. The air was stuffy and humid as she dragged in fast, heavy breaths through the fabric of her mask.

She’d been chasing him the entire night.

She forced herself to stop as she came to a dead end, to slow down and catch her breath. This had gone on too long, and she was struggling to control herself again.

The pounding of blood drumming in her ears was becoming overwhelming. With each breath in, her lungs only seemed to tremble more, her body urging to move faster, run, claw her way through. With shaking hands, she retrieved an auto-injector needle from the pouch on her belt and fumbled at the fabric of her arm. She exposed the small opening, designed for this very purpose, and pressed the needle to her skin with a hiss.

She tilted her head back and closed her eyes, the only part of her that was visible beneath her bronze covering.

Her heart rate fell to a tolerable level. The fog in her brain started to clear and thoughts beyond animalistic instinct were now allowed to surface her consciousness.

She took a long breath in, the trembling subsided.

The last of the night’s breeze rattled cheap metal blinds against the open window, sending them crashing in a slow, steady rhythm. Papers were littered about the desks, coffee cups left abandoned. There were even a few computer monitors, big, metal, clunky things with glass screens and tangles of thick wires.

Vivian kept her eyes closed and tried to match her breathing to the rhythm of the blinds, crashing like a soft ocean tide.

The sun would be rising soon, night air suffocated by the dull heat of the day.

If he got to the cathedral, it was over, and she’d almost chased him all the way there.

She had to admit that part of her was relieved when her father told her that this priest guy had escaped from prison. It had been a scramble to organise any kind of a trial after such an unexpected arrest.

Terrorism, arson, weapons of mass destruction, vandalism.

Apparently, charges like these came with a mountain of red tape that took time to wade through. Not that it mattered. His cult of wide-eyed freaks broke him out in no time.

The Custodian Circle had been after him for years, tasking Vivian with the responsibility of catching him -alive, and him being in police custody just got in the way.

These so-called “police” wouldn’t have been a problem for long. They would have put up a fight to keep him in their custody, at least for a little while. But a few meetings later, some negotiations, the appearance of friendly men in sharp suits with deep pockets, it wouldn’t have lasted long. Not when tokens were on the table.

She suspected that he was in one of his episodes of confusion when it happened. He was also a freak with some kind of brain damage.

They said that he just walked back onto the scene of the crime while the police were mid investigation. She could imagine the officers standing there in bewilderment, all caution tape and clipboards, as the high profile and supposedly dangerous kingpin cult leader stumbled his way in.

A man so far removed from reality that he couldn’t even recall his own name. He dressed in mockery, as a priest, and his followers worshipped him. They were willing to break the laws of physics to keep him alive and free.

Their own grip on reality was even more questionable. But the timing was terrible. Once he made it back to the cathedral, he would surely kill the man she’d spent the last few weeks searching for: Lucian Drake.

Lucian, a man who could be summarised by his pencil moustache and love of leopard print, was the next piece of the puzzle. He could be the key to discovering who was behind the murder of her sister the night they were both attacked as children. The key to finding out what had caused Vivian to change, to what was wrong with her.

She opened her eyes and walked towards the window. Loose pages fluttered against her feet from the breeze as the blinds continued to bash and clatter around, begging for her attention. A tiny spark caught her eye on the window frame.

Glitter.

She touched the cluster of sparkles with her gloved hand. It was hot pink and chunky, sticking to her finger tip as she tried to sprinkle it away. No doubt the freaks were celebrating their accomplishment tonight. But not for long.

She lifted the window up and crawled through and out onto the fire escape. The light of the rising sun was enough to make out the surrounding buildings, but she didn’t have to search.

There he stood, several floors up on the fire escape of the building across, looking down at her with his hands in the pockets of his plain black suit, the white clerical collar confirming his identity.

As soon as she saw him, her heart started pounding again and her gloved hands tightened on the railings.

There was nothing physically threatening about him. He was tall, but not strong and he didn’t know how to fight. Once she caught him, he didn’t stand a chance.

He pulled a hand from his pocket and blew a puff of pink glitter in her direction. He smiled, but she could recognise the hesitant fear in his eyes. Her hand twitched for the gun on her waist, but she wasn’t allowed to shoot him, and he knew it. The glitter drifted on the breeze, glistening as it slowly scattered past her.

His sparkling hand morphed into a middle finger. She almost laughed under her mask. It wasn’t too long ago the he was afraid of her. Her persistent and unexplained pursuit caused him to almost collapse at the sight of her, but his escapes had gotten to his head, made him high on luck. It would be short lived, she was sure of that.

She climbed up onto the railing and stood up. His body shifted, eyes widening, like a dog awaiting a ball to be thrown.

She bent herself down, preparing to jump, keeping her eyes locked onto him.

A multitude of hands reached out from the window behind him, fingers spread out and clutching. He turned to look at her, a hesitating glance, before getting clumsily pulled through the window, his leg almost getting stuck as he slipped inside.

Vivian wasted no time, with a deep breath, she leapt the gap between the buildings, falling down a few floors before landing on the fire escape with a heavy thud.

She got up and shoved herself through the window, hearing the frame crack under the force as she swung it open. Shoving aside any office chairs or furniture in her path, she ran for the stairs.

She found the stairwell and could hear commotion coming from above, doors slamming and panicked voices. Was that laughter? She sprinted up, her heavy stomps sending the people above scattering. She followed the sound and threw the door to the hallway open. The corridor was long, and she caught a glimpse of figures darting into a room at the end. She ran towards them at full speed. The building was high up for them to jump out the windows, she must have them trapped now.

Her running quickly became sliding, her feet unable to grip the floor. She threw her arms out to the side but was totally out of control. She went flying into the wall before hitting the floor. It was covered with oil.

“what the fuck-” she mumbled as her hands failed to even hold herself up. She slid around, trying to gain some kind of friction as she thought of five different ways she could kill him.

Roaring laughter echoed through the hallway.

She propped herself up to see him peeking around the corner of one of the doors, hunched low to the floor, gasping for breath. He even held up his hand to point directly at her while his laugh became intentionally loud.

She clambered her way up, slipping a little, and broke into a run again, her thick boots able to gain traction after a few steps. Weapon now drawn from her belt, a knife the length of her forearm. Matte black with silver serrated edges. His eyes grew wide at the sight, his laughter stopped and he vanished again into the room, the door slamming shut.

She burst through the doorway, scanning wildly but couldn’t see him.

She hurled a table out of the way with a guttural scream, but he’d vanished. She tried to slow down, take a moment to listen, he couldn’t have gotten far.

A noise, a tiny thud, came from the cupboard to her left.

She charged over and booted the door with two heavy kicks before realising it opened the other way. She swung it open and there he was, wedged behind a mop. She was too angry to appreciate the return of his fear and couldn’t hold in her enraged scream. She tore through the clutter, throwing cleaning supplies and office equipment behind her in a noisy avalanche. Both of them were screaming now

He clung to the mop, trying to lean away from her, climbing backwards up the wall. She had lost her knife somewhere in the mess but it still took everything she had not to kill him on the spot.

The mop was his last defence. He jabbed it out, shoving the wet end towards her face. She dodged it once, twice, with a sharp, irritated glare through her mask before grabbing the pole and yanking it forward, pulling him with it. He tripped over the mess and fell towards her. She caught him by his jacket and dragged him out of the cupboard. He was kicking and screaming so she threw him against the wall, knocking the wind out of him. He slid down into the clutter and before he had a chance to catch his breath, she punched him in the gut and he folded with a winded gasp. She grabbed something from her belt as he hunched over, and before he knew it, a burlap bag was over his head. He slid to the floor and she followed him down, roughly tying his hands together with her rope, yanking and shoving him as she quickly tightened the rope.

“how did you know,” he coughed from under his bag. “I liked...being tied up?”

She shoved him – hard, causing the back of his head to thunk the wall and continued tying. Without warning, she was pulled backwards by a rope around her neck. A multitude of hands grabbed her arms, holding her down as she flailed around trying to escape. Her superior strength outweighed by their numbers.

They weren’t trained henchmen or paid off thugs. They were average sized people of differing ages and genders. Vivian always avoided killing them, there was obviously something deeply wrong with them and she figured they were probably drugged or brainwashed. But, God, they were a pain in the ass.

She clawed at the rope but couldn’t get her fingers beneath the thick fabric of her covering to dislodge it. She was dragged off of him and they were both squirming now. His confused blindness caused him to fight against his rescuers as they tried to get him to cooperate.

An older woman with long hair climbed into her lap and cradled her face in both hands, locking eyes with her as the rope tightened around her throat. Their leader, still panicking in a tangled mess of rope and confusion, was being dragged away. They all dressed in mostly white, simple clothes. Face-paint and glitter, childish accessories and toys accompanied their unpredictable violence.

“Its okaaay, you don’t need to do this” The woman said with a smile and sing-song voice. She had a butterfly painted on her cheek, the pink shimmer gathering in the wrinkles of her smile lines. “you are free to follow your own path” Vivian continued to pull at the rope, gasping and clawing.

“just relax and let us take you somewhere safe. Father will forgive you”

They couldn’t hold her for long, their grip was weakening. She tore her right arm loose and flung the woman off her lap before loosening herself from the rest, the rope getting dropped along the way. But they were determined and synchronised and bought themselves a few extra moments as they repeatedly pushed and pulled her back and forth to stop her from standing, like an ocean tide, preventing her from gaining any balance as she still fought to catch her breath.

“WOOooaaaAAAA-WOOooaaaAAAA-WOOooaaaAAAA-” they sang in unison as they rocked her back and forth.

With a final gasp and shove she got herself free and clambered up, but she had no idea what direction he was pulled in. She roughly kicked off their grabbing hands from her feet and legs like flies, and ran to the stairwell and listened. Her focus was snapped away by the sound of the freaks singing in a low hum.

“SHUT UP!” she screamed towards them, but their singing only became more lively and they added some clapping, getting louder. “For FUCK SAKE” she kicked the railing.

There was only one way out, so she leapt down the stairs.

As she circled her way down she caught sight of a shadow on the ground floor heading towards the fire exit, and the sound of small wheels on concrete.

She was almost at the bottom, she jumped over the railing to skip the rest of the stairs and threw herself through the heavy fire doors and out onto the street. The cold air wooshed around her, relief from the stuffy buildings.

The area was wide and flat, designed for heavy foot traffic.

He was on the road, moving with speed. She grabbed the gun at her waist and pointed it out towards him, but he was moving too fast, gliding.

He was on wheels, a skateboard.

The wheels had lights that flashed in pink, leaving a blurred streak of colour in his wake. He made it look easy. crouching down to gain speed, turning at sharp angles.

He held a gun in one hand, holding it up in the air as he circled around the wide expanse, his suit jacket fluttering behind him.

A car had arrived and joined him on the road, blasting obnoxious music with a funky beat. It circled around him in an alternating path, occasionally blocking him from her vision as they swirled around each other.

She fired at him, aiming at his board and missed. He held his middle finger up with his free hand and danced carelessly to the music while he glided around.

She fired again and started to pace forward, gun held in place, aiming for his legs now. The car got in the way this time and the bullet bounced off it with a twang.

It was his turn to shoot. He swung out his arm, causing a spray of bullets to circle around her perfectly, spraying near her feet and onto the building behind. She didn’t flinch or change her pace, stepping through the circle of sandy dust that floated up around her.

She shot again just as the car passed in front of him.

He vanished, holding onto its side and using it to drag him along and shelter him from her view. It was making for the top of the street. She clenched her teeth and fired again, and again, in quicker succession, until it was a consistent firing of shots that had no effect but to show her anger until the car vanished around the corner, the music fading into the distance.

She could do nothing but stand alone and watch the plumes of sandy dust vanish into the distance. She clenched the gun, feeling her knuckles turn white. She wished she could crush it into dust, but it refused to crumble.

She raised her arm and slammed the gun to the floor with all her strength, it gave a little bounce but wasn’t enough to satisfy her temper. She hunched over, caving in on herself in rage. She closed her eyes, drew a slow breath, and then screamed. A long piercing scream.

It echoed through the street. The sound of the car was long gone.. Her echo faded and she was left only with the sound of her heavy breaths and the morning birds that had begun to chirp at the sunrise, blissfully aware of her tantrum.

She sighed heavily and picked the gun off the floor. There would be no point going after the freaks, they would have scattered by now finding their way home like church mice.

She thought she had him this time. She should have hurt him more, made sure he couldn’t get away. She wasn’t satisfied with her scream so she hurled the gun at a nearby window, shattering the glass to pieces.

That was better.

She was able to catch her breath properly now as the last shards of glass fell from its frame.

There was nothing she could do.

He was gone. Any chance she had of capturing Lucian Drake was gone with him.

Chapter 2

Chapter two

She’d practically collapsed from exhaustion when she got home. Spending so long so worked up on adrenaline, taking so much of the medication she needed to balance out, it took its toll on her body. The hardest part was deciding whether to succumb to the pull of sleep or eat herself into a coma. Nothing ever felt like enough.

It was late afternoon now, the only time of day that allowed any productivity. It was just too hot to function during the day.

She had awoken with a gasp, reaching for the medication at her bedside and waited for the calm relief that came with the familiar hiss. She had dragged herself out of bed, un-eager to face the inevitable barrage of questions that were waiting for her in her fathers office.

She dressed in her usual way, a long burgundy skirt, pleated and flowing. Her shirt was simple, black with long sleeves and a square neckline. She was adorned with jewellery that contrasted against her jet black hair, which was cut above her shoulders and held in loose curls that framed her face. Vivian had a classic look about her, cherry lips and perfectly manicured nails, her eyebrows were dark and wild, and her hazel eyes held a soft intensity. But her charms would be of no use to her today. Her black satin heels echoed through the long hallway as she walked, click-clacking on the marble.

The scent of antique furniture and old paintings still lingered in her fathers home. Musty and warm, a familiar consistency that was being invaded by cheap decor and cold white lights.

The hallway had become an odd mixture of classical wooden features and bronze trinkets, clashing with white marble and modern art.

She forced herself to ignore it, she didn’t have the energy to care.

The ominous presence of yesterday's failure followed her like a balloon tethered to her on a string, a persistent rain cloud of bitterness and frustration.

“Alive and without serious damage” was the issue, it wasn’t exactly her speciality.

Just as she turned the corner, she bumped into a man walking head on in her direction.

“Opps, sorry -” she said, gathering herself. It wasn’t uncommon to see suited men coming in and out of her fathers office. Custodians, members of their church.

“Vivian?” He almost whispered as he held onto her shoulders.

She gasped at the sight of him. She felt the smile break through before she even registered who she was looking at.

Joseph Blackwood, her honorary uncle, lifelong family friend, and rarely called by his legal name.

“Uncle Buster,” she gasped “You’re back!” she didn’t hesitate to bring him in for a hug, her bad mood dissolving into the air. “I’m so happy to see you!”

He hugged her tightly. Some years had passed since she had last seen him in person and the smell of his clothes brought back a flood of memories and nostalgia.

“My God, look at you” he stepped back and took her in “You look so much like your mother now.” His hand cupped her face and she leaned into it, holding her own hand over his, though she didn’t think his observation was true. Her mother was beautiful in the way a daisy was, blue eyes and sunny smile. She noticed the flicker of sadness that crossed his face as he took her in.

“You look old” She joked with a teasing smile, and he laughed, playfully pushing her away. But it was true, his hair was almost all silver now. His tanned skin had unfamiliar lines that contrasted against his gray stubble. But his blue eyes still held the youthful warmth he had always carried with him.

He turned to walk in the same direction as her and offered out the crook of his arm to escort her, which she happily took.

“Well, time has been kinder to me than to Cecil.” He quipped, breaking a record in how long it would take for him to poke fun at her father.

“Oh, don’t be too sure,” she laughed, “you’re only a few years behind him.”

They walked slowly. He almost felt frail to her now, though it was probably her imagination. Her memories of him included being lifted up and spun around, strong and tall, always with energy for fun.

. “What brings you back now?”

“Oh Viv, there’s a list of reasons as long as my arm.”

“I think I can guess some of them.” Vivian said, “I may have even contributed to a few.”

“I’m sure you have,” he laughed “But I have missed you bringing me trouble.”

“Be careful what you wish for,” she said “I’m sure I’m responsible for half of my fathers health problems.”

“Well, he’s responsible for half your trouble.” He said. “I hope you didn’t clash too much without me”

“Oh it's not that bad, really. It's gotten easier to avoid the micro-managing. I don’t think he can keep up with me in his age.”

He chuckled. “You know your father is very dear to me. But over our lifetime of friendship, I’ve learned only one useful thing about him.”

They reached the end of the corridor, stopping at the wooden door and turned to face each other.

“What’s that?” she asked

“The less he knows, the better” He pinched her on the chin, like he used to, making her smile.

It was true and it’d taken her long enough to learn it. Her fathers wise guidance was outweighed by his controlling nature. She craved the comfort of help, of not being alone. But her failures were easier to carry without the extra weight of his lectures and hindsight. She’d rather double the failures and hear nothing of it, than feel the urge to defend herself, to explain how some random event had been out of her control. Then you should have thought of that, he’d say. The worst part being that he was usually right.

She had forgotten the comfort of having someone else around, someone that understood, what a difference that made.

She remembered the subtle looks that would be shared between her mother and Buster- Joseph, she’d called him, anytime her father was on one of his rants.

A quick glance, a small twitch in the corner of their mouths, and they’d look away, smiling. That was enough to communicate a thousand words between them.

After her suicide, his eyes had wandered during Cecil’s rants, lost and without a mirroring smirk to lock onto. Until he found Vivian had slowly taken her mothers place. The exasperated woman whose only mission in life seemed to be to argue with Cecil.

His knowing glance and roll of the eyes had saved her unmeasurable frustration.

“Are you staying or just visiting?” She asked.

“Something in between” he said “You’ll be seeing me more often.”

“Good” she said, “Things were always easier when you were around”

There was a flash of sadness in the smile he gave her.

“You better go in, he’s been waiting for you. We’ll catch up soon.”

He turned around to walk down the corridor, they smiled a goodbye and she turned and grabbed the door knob, hesitating. She pressed her lips together and entered the room.

Cecil’s office was dark and cosy, with countless book shelves and a generous desk. The fireplace was lit, though it emitted no heat. Cecil was making his way around to the desk, his cane tapping the floor as he held onto the long curving ram horn for its handle.

“Did you see Buster?” He asked without looking up as Vivian closed the door behind her.

“Yes.” she said.

“Good” he sat in his chair with a grunt. “He worries about you.” he said in a playful tone.

Vivian let out a soft chuckle. “He always has.”

Cecil laughed “Don’t we all” and sat himself down behind his desk, where he pulled a folder of papers toward him and began to sift through the contents.

She dragged herself to the large round chair that awaited her on the other side of Cecil’s desk and dumped her handbag next to her on the floor as he flicked through the pages.

“What happened?” he asked without looking up. His round glasses seemed to reflect the flames of the fireplace and he stroked his short white beard while reading the papers.

“He got away.” Vivian said flatly. Obviously she thought.

She was ready to argue, but Cecil said nothing. No questions, no over analysing. Vivian swallowed her the pent up confrontation that was sitting in her throat and waited.. After a few moments, he slid over a set of papers containing the information and photograph of a man with bright red hair and a handlebar moustache. Vivian took her time reading the information thoroughly. This took several minutes and Cecil waited patiently in silence, the crackle of the fireplace and the gentle turning of pages filling the silent space between them.

“Jesus,” She finally said with disgust, shaking her head at the contents of the paper. “How sure are you of the source?”

“Have I ever handed you something I wasn’t sure of?” he asked, unable to hide the snappiness in his tone.

She closed the pages “Alright. I’ll do it.” she said, taking on the job, and placed the file into her handbag before moving to get up.
“There isn’t a rush on that one.” Cecil added. “Lucian is still alive.”

Vivian stopped her movement.

“What?”

He sighed with reluctance, taking just a moment too long to allow the information to escape.

“He was spotted by one of our affiliates. We established communication with a driver, he’s in place to take him to his destination tonight. But it's set by the minute, he won't wait.” He slid her a single piece of paper across the table. Vivian could sense the reluctance in the movement of his hand as it relinquished the paper over to her. “This would likely be your last chance with him.”

She swiped the paper and shoved it in her bag before getting up in a hurry. She knew obtaining this information wouldn’t have been easy, it's the most help she’s had in a while. He stood and made his way around the desk but she was already heading towards the door.

“Vivian.”

The authoritative sound of her name coming from her fathers voice made her stop in her tracks and look over her shoulder at him.

He didn’t need to say anything. The look he gave her reflected the countless lectures he’d given her on the importance of moving on, how she needed to accept that she may never find the truth.

“I know” she said, and with that she was out the door.

Chapter 3

Chapter three

She had read the paper a hundred times. The clock was ticking, but she’d been given another chance.

She was on her knees, eyes closed, facing the direction of the moon as always, though she couldn’t see it. Her breaths were steady and even. Her head was almost touching the floor.

She was in the shed. The small structure that was hidden from view, off of the path and deep into the woods that surrounded her home.

The outside was unassuming, a small decrepit wooden hut, overgrown and covered in foliage. Inside the small dark room, covered with a layer of stray sand and dead leaves, contained a hatch that led to a small underground apartment. It was bright, clean, and comfortable. The main living area housed screens for the security cameras that were scattered through the woods and around her house. There was plenty of clothes, food, a bathroom and bedroom. She could survive here for months if she ever needed to. It was perfect for transitioning from one life into the other and to be sure that there were no unwanted followers after her assignments.

She rose up from her position and sat on her knees, she carefully rolled up the large white cloth that was on the floor in front of her, taking care with the frayed edges and worn fabric. It had faded to a soft beige over the years, the once vibrant and purposeful blood stains that had been carefully drawn out on the fabric, becoming two circles of old stained brown. One large circle encasing the other, with a vertical line going through both and two dots either side.

Vivian placed the rolled up cloth on the low table to her side. She looked to the messy pile of papers that was strewn out in front of her, containing everything she knew about Lucian Drake.

She couldn’t fail again tonight. He or someone he was close was the reason for the hell she’d been put through as a teenager. The reason for her sisters death. The reason she’d woken up, tied to a hospital bed, screaming, thrashing after the attack that she shouldn’t have survived. Unable to take a single breath without her heart sending booming shocks through her body, each beat like a sledgehammer to her chest. There must have been a reason her mother had held a pillow over her face while she slept, trying to suffocate her, being dragged away before taking her own life. There had to be someone to blame.

She rose to her feet and grabbed her mask from the table in the hall below the hatch. She was dressed and ready to go. She used the mirror above the table to fix the mask to the rest of her combat gear. It was bronze in colour. Her hair was covered completely by fabric that wrapped around her head and wrapped down to her neck. Her silhouette was hidden by a hood that draped over her shoulders, pinned in place out of the way of her arms and stopping at the waist above her utility belt. There was nothing elegant about her gear. It was bulky, but protective. You could hardly tell it was a woman beneath it, but it shielded her from bullets and softened most attacks. She attached the mask to the rest of the headgear and fastened the hood in place so only her eyes were visible beneath the shadow of bronze. She secured her gloves and headed the ladder to the exit.

It was a short drive.

Calor was considered a city, the only city she knew of, but it was low and spread out. Dirt roads and old buildings filled the empty space that would otherwise be filled by stray sand and dead foliage.

She’d been given the location Lucian would be picked up at and had set a countdown on her watch to the exact time he was scheduled to be leaving. Her car was as silent as they could get and she turned off her lights before approaching, making sure to park a short distance away.

It was an old warehouse building, corrugated metal and wooden storage boxes.

She found entrance by climbing up through the second floor and could already hear muffled voices arguing. She watched them from above, on a catwalk that overlooked the centre of the warehouse floor. It was dark enough on this level to keep her hidden and they were far too engaged in their topic of conversation to notice her. She was hidden around some boxes and there were storage rooms lined behind her. There he was.

Lucian was pacing back and forth, his hands covering his mouth and moving all over his face with stress. His leopard print shirt was unbuttoned and his shades were askew.

“You shouldn’t have opened your fucking mouth” said the large bearded guy to the woman, who was sat smoking.

“I didn’t say shit” she snapped, pointing her cigarette at him “I told you, it was that kid who saw you in the club, he was watching you, you should have listened to me.”

“Yeah, well, if shit goes south it’ll be your little shit that pays the price this time, mark my fucking words. I’ve had enough of you”

“Yeah, right” spat the woman “pay the price. You don’t have a concept of a fucking price-”

“can you two shutthefuckup?!” snapped Lucian. His sun glasses almost flew off his face and the two fell silent.

Vivian’s attention fell to the young teenager that the man was referring too. He was sitting on a wooden box, legs kicking and typing on a clunky laptop, wires trailing out and into a backpack that must have contained the battery. He had sandy blonde hair that was curly on the top, seemingly unaffected by the threats directed towards him. She also noticed the gun that the man was fiddling with and the way his eyes glared between the woman and the kid.

“I just need to think” Lucian continued, “and I cant fucking think with you two talking shit in my ears!”

This kid would be a problem. Vivian had brought a tranquilliser gun, but they didn’t work instantly. If she shot them all, they would panic, and this guy could still have time to shoot the boy if he wanted too. She had to separate them first.

Vivian looked around and noticed an electric box above one of the doors behind her. She slowly stood up and used the back of her hand to flick a random switch.

The lights made a loud popping noise and all the adults screamed.

“It's okay! Mom! It's okay!” came from the boy “Its probably just a fuse, I’ll check-”

“Go figure it out then!” the mom yelled back.

A small white light appeared from where the boy was sat and he used it to jump down from the box and make his way up, the metal stairs clanging with each step.

Another flash-light appeared below and they continued their conversation, the lack of light apparently made it harder for them to hear and they were shouting louder than before.

Vivian quietly opened the door of the storage room behind her and slid into the darkness. The boy approached the box and pointed his light to look inside. She peaked around the corner, it was light enough to see the freckles dotted over his nose, along with the black eye. He was deep in concentration. She moved closer, slowly at first, arms reaching around him like a hungry predator about to catch a meal. She quickly grabbed him, instantly covering his mouth and pulled him into the room before shutting the door.

His screams were muffled under her glove and he kicked and squirmed around in desperation.

“shhhh shhhhhh, I’m not gonna hurt you”

She held him in front of her, facing away, one hand over his mouth and the other wrapped around him tightly.

It wasn’t working, he continued to fight in an attempt to make noise. She tightened her grip on his mouth and squeezed his nose shut. He clawed at her hands for oxygen.

“Shut up or you’ll die” she whispered firmly. It took only moments for him to start nodding so she loosened her grip and let him take a gasping breath.

“I won't hurt you if you just do as I say.”

The boy gave a quiet sob when her hand went over his mouth again.

“Are you going to scream?” she asked. He quickly shook his head side to side.

She loosened her grip and spun him around to face her.

He caught his breath and looked her up and down, his eyes locked onto the weapons she carried at her waist. Her knife was visible on her belt, along with various ropes, guns, and tools he couldn’t identify. His eyes grew wide with fear and his breathing became fast. His hands instinctively flew to his neck.

Great. He knew who she was.

Her hand quickly went for his mouth again but he fought twice as hard this time, and she didn’t have as good of a grip on him now. He squirmed away from her and fell backwards on the floor, he was hysterical, hyperventilating and knocking things over as he tried to crawl away from her towards the door.

“Mom.” his voice cracked “MOM” he started to gain decibels, shit, he was going to get himself killed and ruin her chances. He had to be calmed.

She quickly pulled down her face covering and removed her hood, revealing her face and hair.

“Look, it's okay, I’m just a person.” She said, He was momentarily frozen in place with surprise. His eyes took her in as his brain began to process that he wasn’t actually looking at the boogeyman or a monster, it was a person, a woman.

“My name is Vivian, what’s your name? Please, I promise I won't hurt you. Tell me your name, please”

He looked bewildered and wiped the snot from his nose. “J-Jake,” he whispered.

“Jake” she repeated back, letting out a long breath. “Okay, Can I help you up, Jake?” she held out her gloved hand.

He nodded and she slowly moved to pick him off the ground. His blue eyes stayed wide and locked onto her.

“Are you…” His eyes darted down onto her knife. “Are you the butcher?” he asked. She internally groaned. She hated that name, it was corny. It’d come from some security footage of her cornering one of her assignment targets. This one’s crimes had been particularly vile and she’d even caught him in the act of something unspeakable. She’d lost it and chopped him to pieces. Strike after strike, arm raised high and screaming even long after he was dead, leaving behind a blood bath. She couldn’t stop herself. There was hardly anything left of him by the time she came to her senses. The fact that he’d been begging for his life when she cornered him wasn’t a good look, but if people only saw what he had been doing just moments before, they’d understand, they’d thank her. Cecil had gone ballistic. Who doesn't think to check for cameras? Whatever, people being scared of her was a bonus anyway.

“Yes,” she sighed “You need to just stay in here and keep out of the way. I’m just going to take Lucian and go, alright? -is that guy gonna hurt you when I leave?” She regretted asking as soon as the words left her mouth, his situation was nothing to do her and getting involved would only make it worse.

He looked around nervously, unsure how to answer. “I don’t know, I -” he took a deep breath in “It's my mom, she’s in trouble. If he gets mad, I don’t know, he might do something..”

“Want me to shoot him?” She stepped around him to peek out the door.

He considered it for a short moment, but frowned and shook his head at the idea. “You said you wouldn’t hurt anyone”

She had been planning to lock him in the room and leave fate to decide what would happen to the rest of them. But she couldn’t be responsible for triggering the events that would cause him to see his mother killed. He looked a little too young to abandon here if that happened. For Gods sake -Why did some kid have to be here at all? Her thoughts were interrupted by the vibration of her watch.

“You have literally one minute to get your mom to come up here before I grab Lucian.” She tapped her writs at him and pulled her covering back over her face. “I’ll try not to let anyone get hurt, okay?”
He nodded and rushed out of the room.

“Mom! Mom! I need your help!” he called over their discussion, which had become way more heated, she ignored him. They were all yelling now.

“MOM!”

“Jake, wait!” She yelled back in annoyance.

Vivian could already see how this was going to go. Oh well, she’d given them a chance. There was no way she was going to let this opportunity go. They were in the dark so she leaned her hands on the railing and aimed at the big guy with the small tranquilizer gun.

“Mom, seriously, OW -I’m really hurt! I got shocked!”

They were moving their arms too much, their flash-lights causing disorientation and she wasn’t the best shot.

She gave the kid a few more seconds but his mom didn’t seem to care for his pleas. Times up.

She held her breath, lined up and fired.

The dart made a ping sound as it hit the metal wall behind him. Shit. She missed.

Immediately there was gunfire in their direction. She dived into Jake and shoved him back into the room before running out and jumping over the railing. Shots were being fired left and right but no one could see what was going on in the darkness.

The woman started screaming and crouched down, covering her head and almost paralysed in fear as she tried to find cover. Her screaming was almost enough to drown out Lucian's string of panicked swearing as he scrambled around to hide or grab a weapon.

asps of shock.Vivian looked for the largest shadow, the wild card, and pointed the gun in his direction. She shot and was sure she hit him this time by the sound of his angry pained grunts. But it didn’t work instantly. She kept moving and the man fired at her and grazed her shoulder. She was pushed back, almost falling over from the force of the bullet, but it wasn’t enough to pierce her gear. He kept firing at her, one grazing her thigh but the rest missed. He was growling through his teeth to fight the pull of sleep, but she knew it would be only moments until he was unconscious. She could hear the woman’s frantic screams to the side. The sound of footsteps rushed down the metal stairwell, Jake rushing to calm his mother. The man’s yells were becoming sluggish and slow, his voice started to trail out into unconsciousness. They two were safe from his anger.

Vivian turned to find Lucian in the darkness.

She could hear his panicked clattering, digging through some box, probably looking for a weapon. He had dropped his flash light on the floor next to him, the white glow casting a perfect spotlight on her target from below. The sound of a car's engine came from outside. It was now or never.

Jake had calmed his mothers screaming, but she was still hunched over with her hands covering her head as he cradled her.

Vivian stepped forward, closer to Lucian, she raised her gun, walking towards him. He stood frozen like a deer in headlights.

A slurred moan and mumble of words came from behind her.

“I told you... you stupid bitch” The bastard was still conscious.

“NO” Jake screamed, he pulled his mother behind him, shielding her with his body. A gunshot fired.

There was no ping of the bullet hitting the metal wall, no shattering of crates or explosion of dust. Just the familiar dull thunk of a bullet invading flesh.

The frantic screaming of the woman had returned, and not the screams of someone that had taken a bullet.

She could hardly bring herself to turn around.

He was leaning over his mother, who was still sheltered by him. She was a small thing, small enough to struggle under the weight of her limp teenage son. He was draped over her, losing his balance, slipping. She clutched onto his clothes, pulling on his shirt in fists, horror plastered on her face.

Vivian dropped her gun and rushed over to catch him, his shirt was wet with blood and he was a dead weight, but he was tense, alive.

His mother gasped deeply as he was pulled off of her, her momentary break from screaming threatening to become a panic attack. She pushed his weight onto Vivian and away from herself, her hands staying outstretched, backing away as if he was a live bomb. Vivian was holding him alone now. He was almost stood up, draped onto her, but could hold none of his own weight and she held him up with both hands.

Vivian looked at the woman, expecting her to react, but she just retreated, looking around the room for the exit.

A quick glance at the other guy confirmed he was passed out, his gun limp at his hand. The pain must have been setting in because Jake started clutching at her desperately, choking out strained g

Lucian was right there, frozen. The car outside revved its engine impatiently. Her gun was on the floor a few feet away, she couldn’t believe she’d dropped it.

Vivian looked to the woman for some kind of reaction, some signal on what to do. But she was already heading towards Lucian and to the exit.

Vivian looked towards Lucian, he was about to vanish forever.

She could drop this kid to the floor, step over him and end this in an instant. It would take only a second to let him fall, grab a new gun from her belt, aim for Lucian’s legs or some non-vital part and drag him away to interrogate, to find out what she needed to know.

She didn’t move.

She watched as Lucian and the woman vanished into the darkness, in moments, the sound of tires screeching away and fading out into the distance.

She scooped up Jake as gently as she could manage and headed for the car.

Chapter 4

Jake Evan’s head pounded like his skull had been turned into a cocktail shaker. His memories bounced around like ice cubes, cutting sharply through the liquid of his brain as he gained consciousness.

The ringing in his ears was deafening and he felt nauseous as the unfamiliar room blurred into focus. The two blurry figures that sat at his bedside morphed into one, with the concerned eyes of a woman staring back at him. Hazel eyes, glaring at him.

The beeping of the machines next to him slightly increased their tempo as he realised who he was looking at, and that she didn’t look happy.

He shifted in the bed, trying to sit himself up. He found his feet trying to swing over the edge to leave, but the woman, what was her name again? Victoria? Stood up to stop him.

“Don’t move,” she said.

He froze in place, the sudden movement catching up with him as his head began to spin. “Get back in bed, lie down.” She sounded stern, but spoke softly enough that it didn’t hurt his head too much.

He did as he was told, moving slowly. The beeps didn’t slow down and he didn’t take his eyes off her as he tried his best to settle back into the bed. His shoulders stayed stiff at his sides.

She was pretty, her dark hair softly curled around her face like she was from an old movie. She wore makeup and her clothes looked expensive. Her eyes were serious, she analysed his every move and looked like she was still considering what to do with him.

Was this really her? The one that chopped people up and took their heads?

His voice came out in a whisper, “Where am I?” There was a significant delay in the connection from his brain to his mouth.

“In my house” she said.

The beeps sped up again and his eyes darted towards the door. He looked back at her, she was just watching him with a thoughtful expression.

“Why am I here?” he croaked out. “Are you gonna let me go? Are you gonna kill me?”

She rolled her eyes as he started sitting up again, “Jesus, calm down” she said with a huff. “Why do you think I saved you?”

He swallowed. “Seriously” She waited for an answer. He wasn’t conscious enough for a quiz. “Why would I save you just to kill you?”

“I… I don’t know”

“Obviously, That means I don’t want to kill you, do I?”

He sat there, his mouth open, unsure of the right thing to say. “I.. guess not”

“No, that would be stupid” she said, leaning in a little closer “You’re not stupid, right?”

“n..no”

“Good.” She sat back in her chair. “Are you in pain?”

“I don’t know”

She looked like she wanted to roll her eyes again, but she looked away and gave him a moment to calm down a little.

He sat quietly, trying not to move, but he already felt exhausted and struggled to fight the urge to go back to sleep.

When she spoke, her voice was a little softer.

“As soon as you can walk, I’ll take you home, Okay?. What’s your address?”

He must have been really exhausted, because the question brought a lump to his throat and he struggled to hide the quake in his voice.

“I don’t have one.” He said.

“You’re homeless?”

“No,” He took a breath to stop the tears “it’s a van. We live in a van, it... moves around”

“You and your mom?”

“Yeah”

“Do you know where she would have taken it?”

He felt himself deflate. “No,” he said softly.

She took a moment to watch him again, studying him intently.

She must have thought he was pathetic, he didn’t even know where to go once she set him free. He looked away, anywhere around the room to avoid her gaze.

The room looked like the hospital rooms he’d seen on TV. There were machines making sounds next to him, there was medicine and equipment, but there were also signs of homeliness too. Some of the walls were white and others were painted sage, there were flowers and candles and other girl-things like that. The window was a dark wood that was surrounded by floor length curtains and white netting that gently drifted in the breeze. Everything looked clean. Jake could see the tops of nearby trees outside that danced and rustled in the daylight. There must have been some kind of air-con because it was as cool as the night time.

“Do you want to go back to your mom? You can go wherever you want.”

He looked up at her with worry “No, no. I have to, I want to go back. I can find her” he said “She’d be lost without me. You- well... you saw” He deflated again, unsure of why he felt embarrassed. She was studying him again but her calculating stare had softened a sombre expression.

The sound of the door clicking open made him jump, he looked to her but she didn’t react to the other person walking into the room, if anything she seemed irritated.

It was another woman, older and very short, with a brown bob and narrow glasses. She wore a white coat and held a red clipboard.

She gently closed the door behind her and walked towards them both.

“Vivian” she greeted with a smile. That was it, Vivian.

“This is Doctor McKenzie,” Vivian said without looking up at her.

“Hello Jake.” Smiled Doctor McKenzie. “Its nice to see you awake”

“I’ll find your mom by the time you’re ready to leave.” Vivian said, standing up and heading for the door before Jake had the chance to say anything.

She opened the door but hesitated to walk out. She turned to look at him again, the same studying look.

“You’re not stupid, are you?” she asked. It almost sounded like she was convincing herself rather than asking him a question.

He knew what she meant by that. Don’t tell anyone about her and she’d let him go.

“No.” he said as firmly as he could muster, holding her eye contact.

She took her time, watching his eyes. After a long moment, she seemed satisfied, so she left and closed the door behind her.

Chapter 5

Lucian wasn’t sure how much this nutjob knew about what they’d been up to while he was locked up. How was he supposed to know he’d get out so fast? It was typical, you plug one hole and another opens. He can’t say he was ever eager to work with him, though, this Father character. But this guy seemed to be a money magnet. It’s crazy what you can achieve when you don’t have any sense of self preservation. He didn’t even seem to care for the money, and blew it as fast as it came. One of the benefits of being crazy, he supposed.

It hadn’t been personal or anything, just business.

But now, it was time to face the music.

For anyone else, they would probably be being led to their execution right now, but not Lucian. Agreed upon terms aside, he was sure he’d talk his way out of this one. He always did.

The cathedral itself was huge. He was led through the only entrance onto the estate, chaperoned by curious eyes of freakish entheogenic devotees.

The building was surrounded by a graveyard, old and uneven. Time had tilted the headstones at odd angles and began swallowing them into the earth. Moss and vines crept across the graves, stone angels wept over long forgotten tombs that the sandy air had begun to erode away.

There were other buildings littered around the estate. The larger ones were long and narrow with thick wooden doors and ivy climbing the old brick. Others were more residential looking, perhaps for an old monastery or school. It was like a small village, even with its own population. Many outside worked for him, followed him, bought into his bullshit. But only the truest disciples got to live here in this creepy commune of stone and mycelium.

The entire estate was surrounded by tall thick walls that had been adapted with cameras and traps. There was only one way in or out.

He was escorted directly to the main building by a man and a woman. They smiled and hugged him in greeting but they both held a gun. Neither of them wore shoes, they were dressed all in white but were covered in splotches of colour, like they had been playing with paint. The man was sucking on a lollipop and loudly clattered it around in his teeth. There was something about them that Lucian just hated. It always felt like they were laughing directly at you, in the way that teenagers did, that you’d never be in on the joke.

They made him walk in front of them and held hands, swinging them together carelessly and bumping into each other like young lovers.

The path through the graveyard was long and winding, the place was big enough that you could get lost with the tall trees that were scattered around and covering the landmarks.

“Left” said the man to guide him at the turns, the smile audible through his voice.

“Right” from the woman.

The doors were huge and wooden. His escorts opened one, only enough to allow for single file entry. He was gently shoved forward into the magnificent hall. The first thing he noticed was the huge circular window of stained glass at the top of the other end of the hall. Its hypnotic patterns cast a beautiful glow of moonlight through the dusty air that lingered in the dark room. The rest of the place was a mess. There were only a few of the long church pews left, but they were strewn about at random angles like some kind of obstacle course. There were slopes that’d been built out of wood and there was a trail of colourful paint that’d been dragged throughout and up and down the slopes. But the main aisle had been left clear, leading up to the altar.

The sound of the door being latched shut with an echoey bang made Lucian jump and turn around. The two escorts walked off in different directions, not casting back a second glance to him.

He straightened his shirt and fixed his moustache, his eyes were then drawn to the glow of light at the top of the hall.

There was a stone altar at the top of the marble stairs. The supposed leader of this.. organisation, lay casually on top of the large stone slab. The white cloth meant to drape over it was scrunched up beneath his head like a pillow. One leg dangled over the edge, swinging lazily as he held a chunky wireless phone up above his face. The soft light from the small screen casting a glow over him in the darkness.

Lucian began the walk up the long aisle that led to wide stairs. As Lucian climbed the stairs, the priest looked in his direction and let out a loud groan. His arm fell over the edge and he let the clunky phone drop to the floor as he rolled his eyes and sat up.

Lucian anxiously rubbed his hand around his neck, his multitude of gold rings catching on the chain that could be seen through his loose unbuttoned shirt. He plastered a smile on his face, his pencil moustache twitching, and held open his hands in a welcoming gesture as if he was greeting an old friend.

“Father, it's great to see-”

“Shut the fuck up” He said.

Lucian’s smile quickly disappeared and he looked at his feet.

The man sat in front of him looked like he could be young enough to be his son, maybe in his mid twenties, it was hard to place him.

He was strange looking, his short dark hair clustered together in almost-curls. He had a prominent nose and strong, sharp features. His deep set eyes were overly expressive and his dark brows were knitted together, almost in a look of confusion.

He had burn scars that crept from beneath his stupid priest collar, climbing up across his neck and along the one side of his jaw. A visual reminder for anyone in his presence of what he was capable of.

“You didn’t think I’d get out.” He said matter of factually, making the small jump down from the stone.

“What? Of course not” Lucian chuckled, “things just got complicated, I-”

“Seriously? God, Lucian. You must think I’m an idiot” He rolled his eyes and stepped forward towards him.

“You! an idiot? No, I knew you’d get out, I had faith that-”

The priest quickly held up his hand to silence him and peeked around behind Lucian’s shoulder, his eyes slightly wider than before. He stepped forward, right into his space, listening intensely and looking behind him.

Lucian was silent but heard nothing, he checked over his shoulder and looked back at him. The priest looked at him, only moving his eyes, still listening.

“What?” Lucian whispered.

“...Nothing” He said, not sounding convinced himself. His eyes still looked paranoid, and he eyed Lucian suspiciously before remembering what they were talking about. His face morphed into a scowl but stayed in his personal space.

“As if that bald headed fuck could have pulled that off on his own” He said.

“No,” Lucian laughed awkwardly, “you’ve got it all wrong, kid. it wasn’t like that”

He was already gone, walking back to the altar to retrieve his phone.

“Right...” he said, and leaned against the stone, clicking the buttons of the device at a speed Lucian could never replicate in his lifetime.

“We didn’t expect you to disappear before the deal was done, see. I kept it all together best I could. Ask anyone. The whole thing with Powell?—look,” He held up his hands “I made a mistake. We got too comfortable with the docks- he took us by… by surprise..”

Lucian’s words trailed off, the priest was already softly chuckling at something he was looking at on the screen, he didn’t seem to be listening any more.

“….father?”

He looked up, still smirking. When he saw Lucian, a look of confusion crossed his face.

“What?” He asked “What do you want?”

Lucian looked around the room. What the fuck was this guy on?

The priest got up again, placing his phone on the altar and walked right up to his face. “Who let you in here? What the fuck are you doing here?” His eyes became wide. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a gun.

“Jesus Christ. Calm down, man.” Lucian stepped back. “It’s alright, you brought me here”

“No I didn’t,” he shook his head frantically “I don’t even know you” He pointed the gun at him. Lucian started to sweat.

“I know what’s going on.” the priest nodded. “You’re one of them” He grabbed Lucian by his shirt and shoved the gun into his neck “Aren’t you? I can tell, you’re everywhere like fucking RATS.” His voice echoed through the cathedral.

Lucian felt his shoulders get yanked and the back of his legs were kicked, sending him on his knees as multiple sets of hands held him in place. His escorts were back with friends.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Lucian said as he tried to wriggle out of their grip.

He could hear footsteps shuffling behind him. The gun was pointed at his head now, he fought against them but was powerless.

The priest was breathing frantically, his finger on the trigger, his face was a picture of paranoid fear. There was no part of him that recognised the man he had summoned before him .

This was it then, he was going to die on the cathedral floor just like he feared. Only in some unhinged episode of paranoia instead of the purposeful punishment he’d pictured. All of his cunning, all this sneaking and double crossing, was all for nothing.

Maybe this was a mercy, his death wouldn’t be a long drawn out spectacle used to make an example out of him, like the others. At least it would be quick.

He squeezed his eyes shut and waited.

Nothing.

He opened them slowly, the priest was looking past him, at whatever was going on behind him with curiosity, gun slack at his side.

He looked down at Lucian, then at the gun in his hand.

“Sorry” he said, a little breathless. “I got confused.”

Was this a sick joke? The priest turned to the altar again and rested his hands on it, taking a deep breath to steady himself.

“fuck me” Lucian breathed out. The hands holding him down were gone, but he felt locked in place.

The priest turned to look at him over his shoulder and sighed a disappointed sigh, shaking his head.

“I told you what would happen,” he said, with a little less patience now than before his episode. “You left them here as insurance and you still couldn’t resist the idea of more tokens.”

Lucian bowed his head “No, you can't be serious. I told you, it's not like that”

“Get up” the Priest was next to him in an instant and pulled him up roughly by his arm “It’s alright, look” he span him around showing him the two young men with bags on their heads that were being held firmly in place by the group of followers that had arrived during the confusion. “I’ll let you choose”

The group pulled off both of the bags, revealing the two young men that they were holding. They both squinted to adjust to the light. The group was smirking at each other.

“No, man. You can't be serious!”

“Dad?” The one on the left said.

“That was the deal, remember?” said the priest “Now, left or right?” He lifted his gun and aimed at the one on the left.

“No, I won't. You can't do this, it's not how you think, I swear”

“Left,” he said, “or right?” pointing at the right. “Or it’ll be both.” An excited murmur came from the group holding them, their eyes making contact in knowing anticipation.

“What the fuck is going on?” Right said, squirming in place. “What is he talking about?” It was no use, the group had them both held tightly.

The left made more of an effort to get away, but the right one was staring at his father in disbelief.

The priest had stopped paying attention to the three of them, his eyes were on the group of followers. They would snicker and laugh and he would look to them each time, reacting to their reactions.

“it was an accident, there was too much going on-” Lucian spluttered

“You have about five seconds” The priest said as he closed one eye and alternated his gun between them. “left or right?” The group's anticipation only grew as he moved his gun between them, he watched for which one their eyes were voting for. The boys flinched and closed their eyes as the gun pointed towards them.

“I couldn’t stop him, and I was distracted, that psycho bitch was after me, I didn’t know what to do-” he was talking fast and desperate.

“left or right.” Their smiles dared him to go further.

“I had to hide, I didn't see what was happening-” The laughter was held back through pressed lips and hidden faces.

“Choose now”

“She chased me away! Listen to me! It wasn’t my fault! He caught me off guard”

“Fine, both.”

“LEFT”

The sound of the gun boomed through the huge hall, glass shattered in the distance.

Lucian covered his mouth, the ringing in his ears deafening. The last second decision was like a reflex he couldn’t control. His eyes were closed but when he opened them again, both of his boys were still standing, squeezing their eyes shut.

The quiet snorts of laughter from the followers filled the silence.

The priest lowered his gun that was pointed off to the side .

“Alright” he sighed. “Fine. You get another chance.”

Lucian had found himself bent over on all fours, unable to hold himself up.

The priest walked to one of the boys who were still held in place, the left one, and put his arm around him. “You see that?” he said, pointing him to his father “He chose money over your life. He’s gonna get you all killed.”

Lucian looked up at his son, he opened his mouth but couldn’t get anything out.

In unison, they were let go. They both stumbled down the long aisle and picked up into a run to the exit. Lucian watched as they clambered through the door and disappeared without looking back.

“Come on now” the priest said with a smile, like he was talking to a child who’d fallen over, “get up, you’re fine.” He yanked him up by the arm again and dusted him off. “Who was after you?” He asked. Lucian stared at the doors as the group of followers disbursed, casually mumbling in their own light conversations like a dismissed class of school children.

“HELLO?” He clicked his fingers in front of his face.

“That- that woman” He replied, snapping out of his trance. “That psychopath, in the brown mask.”

“Why?” The priest asked. “and you better be telling the truth.”

Lucian looked at him in fear “She wants me dead.”

The priest let out a laugh, smile lines carving the sides of his face “No she doesn’t”

“How would you know?”

“Because you're not cut up into little pieces.” He put his gun back into his jacket pocket “If she wanted you dead, you’d be dead. You must have something she wants, do you know anything about her?”

“No, nothing. Just that she’s dangerous.”

“Well, duh” He mocked.

Lucian’s hand found the back of his neck again.“What could she want with me?”

“Relax, she probably doesn’t care about you, she’s a hired psycho. It's someone else that wants you- alive, someone she’s working for.” He shrugged “That’s what happens when you make too many enemies. Or maybe she just has a crush on you, wants to drag you back to her cave.”

“That’s not funny”

“Yes it is. Do you wanna kill her?”

“w- what?”

“Let's kill her, you and me, old man.”

“That’s... not possible”

“Yes it is, I see her all the time. She’s a rabid animal, but any animal can be put down. She’s harmless, really. She’s never been able to catch me”

“You’re crazy”

“No I’m not. She won't kill me either, I don’t know why. But she’s relentless, she won't ever stop until she catches you. There must be a reason she wants us alive, do you really want to find out what that is?”

Lucian shook his head with a glazed look in his eyes. Maybe he was better off never knowing what would happen once she caught him. There was no way he’d get away from her again, escaping his past encounters with her had been pure luck.

He looked at the strange man who was now leaning on the altar again, looking at the screen in his hand, only half paying attention to him. How did he keep getting into these messes? Plug one hole and another opens.

He sighed and stood a little straighter. He’d managed to talk himself out of another bullet. He rubbed his hands down over his face and fixed his moustache.

“Fine” He said “lets kill that bitch”

Chapter 6 (end of 1)

Chapter 6

Vivian let the burlap sack she carried knock gently against the bushes as she let it swing by her side. This one had been easy, the cocky ones always were. But the sun was hot and she wanted to get out of these clothes and have something to eat. Cecil was waiting for her near the shed, engine running, as was usual.

The birds in the trees above were chirping loudly. She remembered being told once that birds chirp to warn of danger, that a predator was nearby, though she could be remembering that wrong. She had tried to rescue one once, when she was eleven.

She’d found it injured and weak on the side of the dirt road she played on. She brought it home, cradled it in soft cotton, and placed it ever so gently in a box.

Cecil told her that she should leave nature alone, that she had stolen a meal from a poor hungry fox. She snapped at him, called him a heartless monster. He had only rolled his eyes in amusement at her then, leaving her to her own devices.

The bird was dead the following morning.

He explained to her that she’d done nothing wrong, but something so small could not handle the shock of its injuries. Such was life. He allowed her to bury it once he was satisfied that she’d absorbed the lesson.

It was by coincidence that in the following weeks, she happened upon a dead fox near the same road.

She was never a big nature person after that.

The hum of the car cut through the chirping of the birds as she got closer to the road. When he saw her approaching from his mirror, he stepped out of the driver's seat and made his way around to the back of the car, tapping his ram-horned cane that he didn’t really need against the sandy dirt..

He got to the trunk and used his key to click it open, revealing a large chest that he unlocked with another key.

Interfering only tended to make things worse. Nature had a way of resolving itself. Nature, economics, politics, it was all a delicate ecosystem that was all better left to the experts. When the balance was thrown in one direction, restoring it was a fine art.

She had utmost faith that the Custodian Circle were the experts. Any work carried out on their behalf was a step in the right direction for humanity. Their assistance with her personal goals was only a testament to their custodial nature. They’d cared for her in her time of utmost need.

Vivian walked up and dropped the heavy bag into the box with a wet thud. The small cluster of papers unceremoniously followed, pages scattering around as they fell in.

Cecil untied the bag to check its contents, as was procedure.

The severed head of the man with the red handlebar moustache lay inside, mouth agape, eyes half open.

He closed the bag, along with the lid of the box, followed by the trunk of the car. He retrieved a small pack of wipes from his jacket pocket and used one of them to clean his hands.

“Any trouble?” he asked, turning back towards the front of the car.

“No” she shrugged “a few people saw”

He nodded and put the used wipe in his pocket. “Then perhaps they’ll choose a different fate” he said with a chuckle.

She scoffed and rolled her eyes as he got to his door.

These people didn’t change.

Fear and violence was the only language they could speak.

He set his cane inside and climbed in.

“and the boy?” He asked

She hesitated. They had agreed not to talk about it after it had become instantly clear that Cecil would not have advised her actions. “cooperative.” She said.

He nodded and closed the door with a pop.

She didn’t bother to stick around to watch him drive away, she was exhausted from all the adrenaline.

It didn’t matter anyway, she was sure that soon enough, the kid would be back with his mother, where he belonged. Balance restored. Lucian may be long dead by now, but there was always the chance that she could keep digging, find some connection. She had to believe it. Anything that could lead to some kind of understanding of her past beyond just random violence.

Things happened for reasons.

For now, she had faith that the wheel of fortune would soon turn in her favour. She had faith.