Real Unrealism

Chapter One

It was a nice spring day, the warmth of the sun bringing out the sweet aroma of the season’s first blossoming flowers. But all of that did not matter in the cold, hard urban jungle. The tall city skyscrapers eclipsed the sun’s glowing rays, casting a shadow over all who dwelled within. The wind that was funnelled through the streets made its inhabitants feel as though the glorious days of when life begins anew was a whole world away.
         In the middle of one of the cold lifeless streets whose only sign of life were the people mindlessly following their daily routine, was a man. A scar ran across his left cheek which served as a constant reminder of a battle from a time long ago. His platinum blonde hair however had a modern style, the fringe reaching just below his old blue eyes. The brown velvet blazer he had on swayed slightly with the wind. Underneath, the man had an unbuttoned black dress shirt over a red t-shirt. The collar of the dress shirt sat over his blazer at the front but was properly kept near the back. A pair of black skinny jeans and a pair of black Doc Martens completed his outfit. The man has had many years pass by him, yet if one was to judge his age by looks alone, he was no older than a man in his late twenties.
         Everyone on the street had a different look ranging from the most lax casual clothing to the most extreme formal clothing, allowing the man to blend in easily. He walked down the street with a purpose, each step of his taking him one step closer to completing his mission. All of a sudden, the man slowed to a stop. Someone had caught his attention. It was not that he was wearing only a grey t-shirt and blue jeans, nor was it anything particular about his face or his dark brown hair that stuck out at the front. There was just something about him. The other man also stopped to look at the man with the scar for the same reason. For a moment, their eyes locked with each other before the man with the scar ran the way he came from.
         The man with the t-shirt gave chase as fast as he could, pushing through the same crowd that the man with the scar had ploughed through just moments earlier. Ahead, his target turned the corner with relative ease due to a break in the crowd. Attempting to capitalise on the same situation, the man with the t-shirt rushed for the respite in the never ending flow of people heading in the opposite direction. He was only a moment too slow, knocking a cup of coffee into a man that was holding it. The man was oblivious to his surroundings as he was too busy looking at his phone. The man with the t-shirt stumbles, regaining his balance before running off again. He then spots the scar-faced man looking back at him before opening a door and entering a building. The t-shirt man was only a moment too slow, only a few steps behind. His reward was the sound of two doors closing followed by the sound of a door locking.
         The man opened the worn down wooden door only to find another worn out wooden door behind it. Not willing to give up the chase, the man in the t-shirt attempted to break the door down. He rammed the door repeatedly with his shoulder, but the door refused to budge. This behaviour caught the attention of numerous people passing by. All of them stopped and stared at a man who seemed to be ramming at thin air repeatedly. On the other side of the imaginary door was nothing but a long empty hallway. The man could feel everyone’s eyes burning into the back of his head but he had to turn around just to make sure. He let off a sigh before facing the door with his eyes closed. The t-shirt man then extended his arm out in front and placed his thumb on his middle finger, clicking them before reopening his eyes and lowering his arm. The door that was in front of him had disappeared and all that was in front of him was a dark empty hallway. He then charged in feeling annoyed by being fooled by something so simple.
         The hallway, sadly, was well lit. The stains on the once white walls and pristine white and black chequered floors would have been better hidden had the lights been only slightly dimmer. He turned the corner only to find the same setting. However, at the end of the hallway was a set of two large flaps of plastics which served as doors. Not trusting what he was seeing again, he closed his eyes while running with his arm extended in front of him. After clicking his fingers and opening his eyes again, he was disappointed at the lack of change in his surroundings. Sensing the presence of the scar-faced man in the next room, he drew the handgun tucked into the back of his jeans which had the top half of it hidden under his shirt.
         Bursting through the doors, he panned the handgun around at the level of his eye as he scanned the room for any signs of the man he had been chasing. The butcher store he was in had been closed for some time now, the stains taking over what he hoped were once clean walls and floors. Some meat hooks were hanging from the bars running over head. The flashing light in the centre of the room which was the only source of illumination flickered, giving the t-shirt man a slight headache. The metal tables that were around the room had dirty sheets covering them. The large green bandsaw in the corner of the room was so badly kept it did no justice to the condition and efficiency of it while it was in use. The only other exit from the room was a door that was chained. The man in the t-shirt smiled, knowing his prey was trapped. However, he was careful of a possible ambush, pacing around the room slowly while keeping his eyes peeled. Then all of a sudden, the man with the scar popped up from behind a table with both hands raised. Their eyes met for a brief moment before the t-shirt man pulled the trigger. The man with the scar clutched the spot on his chest where the bullet had pierced. Blood was flowing out at a rapid rate. He had a mixed expression of pain and surprise. The man in the t-shirt was pleased with himself, achieving what he had set out to do. His joy soon left him when he saw the scar-faced man smile before disappearing like smoke being blown away. The man wearing the t-shirt looked around and found the scar-faced man running out back the way they entered. He fired a couple of shots as the scar-faced individual dashed through the plastic doors. Not hearing a groan of pain from his intended victim, the man in the t-shirt cursed to himself as he knew he had to resume running once more.
         Outside on the street, the man with the scar ran across the road. However he failed to run fast enough, getting clipped by a taxi as he was just about to reach the other side. Though he had been spun around, he managed to get his bearings back quickly and started running away again down an alley across the butcher’s store. The man in the t-shirt had not bothered to hide his gun. He figured there was not enough time to secure it safely behind his back again. As he was running across the road, a few people gasped and screamed in horror at the sight of his gun. The taxi that had clipped the man with the scar earlier had stayed in its spot. The taxi driver barely had enough time to register what had happened when another man ran in front of him, only this time sliding across the hood of the car. The t-shirt man knew it was useless to fire his weapon at the range he was at right now and decided it was better if he continued to give chase.
         The scar-faced man knocked over as many obstacles he could find as he ran down the grimy alleyway. Trashcans, boxes of cardboards, planks of wood, it did not matter as long as it could buy him that little bit of extra time. He ran around the corner as soon as he could with his assailant finding it no trouble to keep up with him, vaulting over the obstacles with ease.
         The scar-faced man ran as fast as he could while trying to make eye contact with his pursuer and pushing through the crowd of people. After successfully doing so, he had entered another building. The t-shirt man heard many screams from people as he ran but could not care less. All that mattered was that he eliminated his target. As he entered the building foyer, he noticed his mark enter a reception room off in the distance. The doors closed before the t-shirt man could see what was going on inside. When he opened the doors, he found a large room filled with guests. The regal design on the red carpet along with the large red drapes and golden walls gave the room an air of superiority and intimidation. The stage at the back was brought to life by the musical talents of a band who were playing an upbeat tune.
         If the waves of people outside on the streets weren’t enough to slow him down, then the amount of people in the room surely was. He had pushed through the crowd slowly until he realised something peculiar. No one was screaming. He then took a good look at all the people around the room. Though they were wearing different clothes with different hairstyles, the faces of all the females, and the faces of all the males, were the same. He then quickly closed his eyes, extended his arm and snapped his fingers. He then notices a fire escape door on the other side of the now empty room slowly closing as the sound of distant footsteps echoed through.
Running up the cold concrete steps was starting to take its toll on both parties. Their footsteps gave a hollow echo, bouncing off the sterile walls. The t-shirt man took a moment to peek up the gap between the stairs to see where the scar-faced man was. Realising his climb was not going to end any time soon, he reluctantly continued the tiring ascension. Eventually, he hears the sound of a door groaning as it opened. Judging by the distance of the sound and how much of a head start the scar-faced man had, the t-shirt man knew he had him trapped on the roof with absolutely nowhere to go.
         The t-shirt man did not bother to slow down as he approached the exit to the roof. Instead, he picked up speed and rammed the door with his shoulder. Once through, he raised the sights of his gun to the level of his eye. On top of the roof, there was nothing to block the sun from coming through which gave everything a strange glow. This strange scenery prompted the t-shirt man to close his eyes and click his fingers, yet the environment remained unchanged. Around him were various white air conditioning units used to cool the rooms below as well as multiple metallic ventilation shafts. Again, the t-shirt man walked around carefully. As the old saying goes; once bitten, twice shy. He knew that this was definitely an ambush. The humming of the air conditioning units helped to muffle the sound of his footsteps. Each time he approached anything his target could hide behind, he made sure to stand just that much further back in case he was jumped from around the corner. After checking behind a couple of air conditioning units, he was starting to get frustrated by the scar-faced man’s continuous illusiveness. To his surprise, that was the exact moment the scar-faced man appeared out from behind his hiding spot, albeit at a distance.
         The scar-faced man stood there calmly with his hands in his pockets, simply looking squarely in the eyes of the man who was pointing a gun at him as though it was the most normal thing in the world. The man in the t-shirt did not know what to do. He was certain the man standing in front of him was not the real deal and was trying to figure out what ploy he had install for him. Before he could pull the trigger, the sound of a flock of pigeons taking off distracted his attention momentarily. This caused him to duck and look away from the scar-faced man for a short moment. When he tried to look at the source of the sound he found nothing but empty space. Realising that it was a trick, he tried to quickly turn his gaze back to the man who was now charging towards him unarmed. The scar-faced man grabbed the hand of the t-shirt man that was holding the gun and used his momentum to tackle the armed man to the ground. This caused the gun to be dislodged from the t-shirt man’s hand. The t-shirt man looked quickly to see where his gun had gone to before looking back just in time to see a fist heading for his head, which he managed to barely dodge just in time. The pain from hitting the ground stunned the scar-faced man momentarily. This was enough time for the t-shirt man to punch the scar-faced man in the groin before pushing him off of him. He scrambled for the gun and picked up quickly, firing a shot right between the eyes of the scar-faced man. The scar-faced man had an expressionless look on his face before his body disappeared in a cloud of smoke. The t-shirt man then looked behind him to see the scar-faced man very much well and alive. It then hit him. He had forgotten to click his fingers after hearing the sound of birds flying. Before a shot could be fired, he felt his gun arm being broken at the elbow, causing him to drop the gun. He then felt a punch to his face which caused him to fall to the ground. Fighting through the pain, he notices the scar-faced man picking up the gun from the floor. The t-shirt man thought certain death was coming his way. He was wrong. Instead, he felt a shot into the shoulder of his still functioning arm and a bullet each into both of his knees. The sound of an all too familiar clicking came from the scar-faced man and the whole world grew bright before disappearing back to the moment where the two had locked eyes for the very first time out on the street.
         The man in the t-shirt collapsed to the floor, unable to move any of his limbs. He was in shock at how he did not see this coming. Everyone walking by seemed to pay little or no attention to the man who was now on the floor motionless. Perhaps they thought he was a drunkard who has had one too many, or perhaps they were too busy on their phones to notice. Maybe they just did not care. The t-shirt man just wanted someone to pay attention to him, anyone who can help get him out of this mess. He got the first part of his wish granted. The scar-faced man, who made sure not to look him in the eye, stood over him before lifting him up and dragging him to an alleyway. Again, no one paid any form of attention to this act for whatever reasons they might have.
         The scar-faced man threw the t-shirt man against the wall. The t-shirt man’s body slid down until he sat on the floor, using the wall for support. For the first time, the scar-faced man spoke as he placed a pair of black sunglasses on the t-shirt man’s face, “Judas.”
         “Heh, Peter. Can’t believe you got me”
         “You can’t stop me from completing my mission.”
         “Oh yeah? And what might that be?”
         Peter looked back in silenced. He was surprised by Judas’ comment as he was sure that Judas was sent to stop him.
         Judas laughed weakly, “We know you’re up to something Peter. You, out on the streets, it must mean something big is happening.”
         Peter patted Judas down and found his gun tucked away behind his back. Peter shook his head as he pointed the gun towards Judas’ head, “You guys broke the treaty and restarted the war. How’s that for big?”
         “That’s not it. You’re out here this early in the war which means whatever it is, it’s bigger than that. Don’t tell me the stories are true,” The expressionless look on Peter’s face confirmed his suspicions, “Oh, so they are true. Well, this is interesting.”
         Peter contemplated whether or not to shoot Judas before tucking it away in his breast pocket, “Yeah well, you’re coming with me.” He then lifted Judas up and began dragging him away.
         “And what about your, mission?”
         “That can wait. There’s been a change of plans.”
         “Are you sure it can?”
         Peter sighed, “No, but you might have valuable intel that we might be able to use. It’s going to be a long and bloody war...”
         Judas was disgusted, “How can you stand by them? After what they did to you? To us?”
         Peter shook his head as they appeared on to another street with bustling people, “They were scared Judas. What would you have done if you were them?”
         “I tell you what I wouldn’t have done. Help them! They deserve to rot! The lot of them!”
         “And that would make you no better than they were. They’ve changed Judas, they’ve grown up. Unlike you guys,” Using his free hand, Peter opened the back door of a white sedan, throwing Judas in, “What were you thinking when you killed our brothers?!” He then slammed the door shut. This caught the attention of many individuals passing by, to which Peter responded with a stern look to each individual, which prompted them to continue walking.
         The passenger side window rolled down and the man sitting in the driver’s seat looked out it at Peter, “Everything alright Peter?” The man had dark blue hair that stuck out in every direction, though it appeared to be black due to the lack of light shining on it. He was wearing a white dress shirt that was buttoned up with a black skinny tie. The sleeves were rolled up to the level of his elbow. The dress shirt was untucked, hanging over his dark blue jeans.
         “There’s a war going on Matthew. Nothing will be alright until it’s over,” Peter paused for a moment to collect his thoughts, “Take him back to see The Threes. They’ll know what to do. I’m going to finish what I started out to do. I’ll see you later. Take care alright?”
         Matthew smiled as he got ready to drive off, rolling up the window, “You too yeah?” The car pulled out from the kerb and drove off around a nearby corner.
         Peter felt a sense of urgency. He knew that the other side was starting to get suspicious of his actions and that if he was to succeed in his task, he would have to act fast. He then disappeared into the crowd to complete his mission.