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A group of five killers work for a mysterious gentleman, while uncovering dark secrets. |
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Following: Atlas Time: 22:14, 23 of Early Fall, 2338 AF (After Forge) Place: Eclipseton, Soprana, The Ten Domains The rain poured down on the small city surrounded by forests. The clouds had been there for years, non-stop showering the town with cold, harsh raindrops. The city would be flooded, if not for the sewers that led out of the city and into the nearby sea. The buildings had been covered in a thin layer of black quartz to prevent weathering, but everything else looked as if the town was abandoned years ago. The stone walls that surrounded the city had been nearly destroyed, and the market stands that once held beautiful fruits and vegetables decades ago, now only held memories of the past. As Atlas strutted down the road, he saw no sign of life, other than faint music of broken souls drinking their problems away. He held his umbrella close to his chest, careful not to let his fine, white suit get wet. He was a professional, after all. His top hat was covering his eyes, only allowing him to see what was immediately in front of him. A fair price to pay for a bit of mystery in his aura. Atlas wasn't the type to do these errands on his own, but the person he was meeting preferred to meet the man himself, and not some messenger. Although he was inconvenienced, he could respect the men for asking. The damp cement reflected the light from the streetlamps as he approached a nearby building. He remembered being told through the telephone that the building he was instructed to go to was a red brick building with a dead bush on the porch. Atlas had been wandering around for an hour now looking for the place, and certainly didn't expect to be picking up the package at a regular old house. Atlas advanced onto the porch of the house, noticing a "Welcome" foot mat. When he opened the dark oak door, he was greeted with a humble abode. Shelves filled to the brim with books, beautiful paintings and pictures on the walls, and a well-decorated living room, with all the chairs and couches circled around a table with a radio on it. It seemed like nobody was home, as Atlas couldn't hear a peep from anywhere in the house. He second-guessed if he was actually supposed to be there. Suddenly, a young boy came around the corner of the kitchen, he stared at Atlas for a moment with wide eyes, before hurrying back where he came from. When the boy returned, a big man was following, holding a shotgun. "Vhat do you vant?" The man said, holding the gun menacingly. "I am here in regards of our meeting, I was told we were to meet here, or am I terribly mistaken?" The man chuckled cold heartedly. "I vas not avare Sammy vould agree to give the package to a square," he snarled. "I beg your pardon, good sir. I may be a rich fellow, but I am surely not a square. Unless... of course... you refuse to do business with me?" The man looked taken aback. "You are in no place for threats, I am the one with the gun, I make the threats." The man took a step forward and ripped the hat off Atlas's head. He frowned. "There was no need for that," He said, slightly annoyed. Atlas took out a comb to brush his hair, he always wanted to look presentable, and he didn't want to embarrass himself in front of the package. "It vas to get a good look at you, vhat is vith the eyes?" He motions towards Atlas's dark red pupils. "That is not important, now I beg of you, would you please give me what I'm here for?" The man thinks for a moment before nodding. "Follow me," he grabs a coat off of the wall before heading back outside. As they leave, the boy watches from a distance, hiding behind a corner. Atlas snatches his top hat out of the man's hand, carefully putting it back on while walking. He trots along behind the man, keeping an eye on the hand holding the shotgun. He didn't need a gun, but he had something else in mind. They came across a dark alleyway, before turning and marching in. The alley was very cramped and smelly. Atlas practically had to kick himself to not give in and pinch his nose like a child. When they passed a dumpster, the man signaled for Atlas to stop, before knocking on the side of the dumpster three times. After a couple of seconds, the side of the dumpster opened up, revealing not trash, but a hibernation-pod on wheels. The pod was very sleek, more technologically advanced than anything else Atlas had seen before. The man pulled the pod out, before knocking on the glass. As the lights within the pod flickered, the body of a man came into view. The man was very fit, and had a nice face and jet-black hair, with no outstanding features to give his presence away. The man was bare, other than a pair of dark blue boxers. There were many tubes flowing into his body, pumping some sort of liquid into him. On the top of the pod, there was a sticker that read: Experiment #00000002 Born: 11 of Early Winter, 2318 AF Name: Julian Oakley "Found this guy abandoned in a building near here, seems all the scientists left in a hurry. Sammy did some tests on him, and found out he's got more mahscle mass than both me and him combined. I vas the one who inspected the brain, he has been outside the tank before, but only for test runs, he won't remember them when you vake him up," He shows Atlas a remote. "The remote you asked for. Very simple, it should activate his killing instincts vith a press of a button. Press it again and it vill turn off," He outstretched his free hand for payment. "Splendid! here is your money, good sir." He took out a sack of twenty gold Orbs and handed it to the man, before tipping his hat. The seller peeked inside of the sack, before looking back up at Atlas. "I am afraid, this is not enough," The man snarled, as he stepped closer. "No, I'm sure it is." Atlas retained his confidence. He knew this would happen. Luckily, he had a backup plan. "No, no. You see, I vas not avare that the person ve vere selling to vas vealthy. But now that I am, I'm afraid you'll be leaving this alley in a bodybag, or so poor, you vish you vere," The man pointed his shotgun at Atlas, with a killing instinct in his dark green eyes. Suddenly, Atlas started chuckling. First a chuckle, and then a laugh. Then a cackle. Atlas might as well be rolling all over the alley floor. Atlas was grabbing his face as if he had no control of it. Tears of blood started rolling down his cheeks. He ripped the top hat off his head, allowing rain water to dampen his hair. The man holding the shotgun was bewildered at the situation, he had never seen anything like it. Suddenly, he felt his trigger finger break by some invisible force. He screamed in pain, before feeling himself being lifted off of the ground by the same force. He dropped the remote right before he dropped the shotgun, thankfully not going off once hitting the concrete below. The man's eyes shook with fear. He didn't want to die. He felt the organs inside of him shifting. His lungs were being squeezed, his stomach twisted. He found it hard to breath, gasping at air, trying to get whatever amount of oxygen he could. His hands wrapped around his throat, his face turning red. Atlas stood back up straight, tears of red staining his face. His pure white hair wet with rain water. He stopped laughing, but still had a smile on his face. Without a word, he outstretched his hand slowly. When it was fully outstretched, he twisted it in a sudden motion, and the blood of the man in front of him splattered all over him, killing the man without a sound, other than the wet splat it had when hitting Atlas's white suit. He breathed in slowly, pleasuring the scent of newly spilt blood. He hadn't experienced this in centuries. He dropped a metal token shaped like a teardrop, made up of a dark red material onto the corpse; his calling card. He grabbed the remote off of the ground, as well as his bag of orbs, then grabbed the pod, before wheeling it out of the alley and back out of town. He didn't have to worry about people seeing him, as they were all inside. He was upset about ruining his suit though. The wheels squeaked as he rolled the pod down hill, careful not to let go, otherwise the package, which he worked so hard to find, would be ruined. As he continued down the path, he began whistling a cheery tune. He kicked down a ruined wood fence when he reached the outskirts of town, before rolling the pod over. The forests were beautiful, despite the never ending flood they endured. The trees served as houses for forest critters, and even animals like foxes and racoons find inhabited burrows in trees and kill the hosts, taking over them as their own in order to survive the rain. Fungi in the area has become very prominent, getting rain water constantly has made them grow faster, and on a much bigger scale. The sound of frogs croaking and birds chirping filled the air, as if matching the noise of his whistling. Atlas approached a small van that he had covered in branches and leaves beforehand, in order for it to camoflauge. He opened the back doors and lifted the pod off of it's wheels into the van. The inferior technology was in order to not be tracked by the Champions of Nalore, he didn't want to be trapped for another half a millennium. He stepped into the van and got in the driver's seat after closing the back doors. He sat there for a moment, relishing in his first victory after being freed. He smelled the scent of blood once more, telling himself there would be more bloodshed later, but there was work to do. And with that, The Conductor drove away with the first member of the new Blood Party. |
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