MIA
#2 of The Shadow
A soft song from a bird perched on a tree in the street, mixed with the morning rays of sunlight piercing through the small cracks in the cream, flower-patterned curtains marked the time as morning. From under dark blue bed sheets, two bodies shifted. Flow and Sepp had cuddled into the spoon position. Flow's arms coiled tightly about Sepp's slender waist, his legs brought up under the fox's; while Sepp was cuddled back happily into the wolf's arms, and body. Flow's normal day; he woke up early, he left for work, getting a coffee from the coffee shop (same one every day), he worked unreliable hours, sometimes he didn't come back for some days, sometimes he was back within one day. When he got back he got another coffee from the same shop, and when home to Sepp if he was back from work too - no-one knew what Flow did. No-one ever asked him that question, then again, no-one ever properly spoke to Flow, sure everyone knew he was gay, but no-one knew where he came from, about his family, parents; and they didn't even know Sepp was his mate. Should Flow vanish one night, no-one but Sepp would even know he was gone.
The little fox remained dead asleep, but Flow was waking up; his eyes were fixed upon the bedside table, on the clock '9:52am' is what it read. He sighed quietly, and slowly wiggled his arm out from under Sepp's side; his other paw rested on the fox's other side. Sepp groaned softly, and shifted, for a split second he lifted himself up, and so Flow took his arm away. He slips out from under the covers, completely naked; gently he lays the blanket back over the fox, before he walked out of the room quietly. He walked into the kitchen, grabbing a slice of left-over pizza from the night before - the cheese had gone hard over night. While he brings it up to his maw, he walked over the living area, since the flat was literally three rooms (living room and kitchen, bed room, and bathroom). He holds the slice of pizza between his teeth, while he picks up his baggy blue jeans from there position, thrown over the back of the couch. He slips them on, and pulls the belt closed; straight away they hung down way past his hips, showing off the black boxers that were already in the jeans when he put them on.
He then grabs his keys from the kitchen table, and walked out of the apartment; only to walk back in a second later for a shirt, pizza still in his mouth...
Flow walked; eating the pizza quickly across the street, the wind sending early mornings chill down the wolf's spine. Just a quick walk through several shaded alleys and he arrived at a coffee shop. He opened the door, that usual BING, from the bell suspended above the door sounded, and the young female wolf behind the counter looks up towards Flow, upon seeing him, he raises her paw, and waves, smiling widely, "Heya Flow!" the reply she got was a short wave as Flow walked to the end of the line. The coffee shop wasn't so full at this time, there had to be five people in the small shop at the tables at least. Even that was enough to make low murmurs of sounds. He waited till his turn. And when he got there, he puts on a fake smile, "Heya Sammy, the usual please," he grumbled, resting his paws on the counter. The wolf named Sammy nods her head,
"Okay Flowie go take a seat I'll call you when it's done."
Meanwhile, in a shut-down factory just on the outskirts of town, just up in the main office, lights off, blinds shut... a pair of well-dressed males were conversing... "So, you know there will be an assassin after you," a gruff voice spoke, as the figure leaned over the desk.
"Yeah, I know..." another spoke back, still slumped into a chair.
"Chances are he's here... now. Do you have any plan? Or are you just going to let him kill you?"
"Let him kill me?!" the man leans forward on the chair now, with a growl. "I'll be ready for an assassin, you'll see! That news broadcast was just the beginning. Someone killed Jason, and I'll bet any amount of cash I know who it was, I'll bring him out of hiding!"
"But everyone at that floor covered it up, there is no evidence pointing to that wolf-"
"Bullshit! I'll find him and kill him myself to prove it!"
To this, the other figure seemed to sigh, and shake his head,
"Well? Are you going to help me get justice?"
"...you know what Jason did... he was heartless and he-"
"ARE YOU GOING TO HELP ME, OR LOSE YOUR LIFE!?" the other stands up, slamming his fists on the table; a hated passion to kill arising within him, "Jason was my brother!" he added, just for the guilt trick. The other figure for a second was silent... "Okay... you win..."
Flow was wandering down the street; cup of take-out coffee held into his paw. It was deserted to say the least. No cars. No furies; only the long row of houses. Things seemed blank... lifeless. He turns a corner, just as he finishes of the last of the coffee; he chucks the empty cup to the side onto the road. The wolf walked quickly, the sound of his clanking boots seemed quieter than they should have been. After awhile, through this abandoned part of town, he turns into an alley, and strode up to the backdoor of an apartment building, casting a glance over his shoulder, and swiftly opens the door, and steps inside, closing the door behind him...
He walks up an old, winding metal staircase; the black paint over it was peeling off, the reveal a weak rusted metal beneath. With each step he took, the entire structure seemed to moan, and clank in pain. He ascends up several flights, before he vanishes into a door, the slamming sound made echoed throughout the tall room...
It was night time; darkness had enveloped everywhere it could get its visionless void over. An immaculately lit up castle had its home in the middle of a heavily wooded area, with only one road heading into it amongst the thick vegetation and forest. The castle appeared old, yet with the huge nation's flags over its walls, it seemed there was something going on tonight, and will the array of limos, and other posh cars pulling up, it had to have been something big...
Behind the castle, two guards, fully kitted up, and carrying M4 machine guns stood together talking idly. Most spies called them 'spy watch' because they hung around the back where anyone wishing to get in quietly would do. One laughed, throwing his head back, "Ohhh c'mon she couldn't 'ave, I mean she's so uptight..."
"Ahh you're just jealous because Tess doesn't want to fuck with you till you're married- YIKES; what the fuck!?" The guard holds up his rifle up a shortish figure dressed In back standing beside them, his face was hidden, "Heya fellas," the male speaks, his voice was youthful, that of someone in there mid teens, "Now, you can both let me go past, or I will just have to kill you both, pick one,"
"Who the hell do you think you are?" A guard exclaims, the look a shock-horror over his face!
"Me? Oh I'm just Sevenfold out working, now can I come in to the party?" the figure asks. Suddenly, a guard pulls the trigger, and just as fast as a bullet rips through air, the figure throws two punches, swiftly putting the two guards onto the floor.
"Bastards," he mutters to himself, the darkened figure pulls a pistol from the holster of his belt, and places it to one of the guard's heads, he pulled the trigger - silencer making a mere fuzz of the gunshot. And there marked the end of that man's life, the figure lifts the gun, and aims to the other guards head, he pulls the trigger, and there went another's life...
The dark figure stalked up to the castle, and seemed to just vanish into a nearby shadow. As on the other side, the furies poured into the castle; the lights surrounding it lit up the entire area with different colours, the only shadows were that cast at the back of the castle, and of the trees. Lining a red carpet leading into the massive entrance was a wide array of strobe lighting, the flashed neon colours in long, thick lines into the sky. The blinding flash of cameras often made the important furies in expensive suits wince, and cover there eyes. Cars drove off, limos followed, the press scurried inside after all the celebrities, still flashing their damned cameras.
"Gotta be careful of those guys... fucking cameras..." the figure says, conversing with himself; as he spoke, the balaclava moved around his muzzle.
After climbing up a rope, attached to a grapple he threw up to the top of the castle he took position. Two seconds later, two guards lay, squirming around madly, with there paws tied behind their backs, they could only, watch the dark figure leaning over the edge of the wall, looking down that long drop, and watching the others enter below. Suddenly the figure looks behind to the restrained guards, and frowned, "Hey, you two, shut it!" He barks at them, then one rises his head up, and screams. "Assassi-"in a flash his tied up buddy next to him was then splattered with the parts of brain, shards of skull, and red gooey blood. The black figure was standing, gun in paw; pointing towards the two, still leaned against the wall.
One guard remained alive, the figure warns him calmly, "If you try anything like that I'll blow your brains out to," the guard felt a strike of fear to the very pit of his heart, he slowly; and shakily rolls his head to the side, eyes wide with complete, and utter fear.
At the sight he gasps, and whimpers, panting now. Indeed, his friend's head was missing a nice chunk of the top of his skull; all that could be seen was the remains of his brain, bathing in blood, and the shards of skull. The dead guard just laid motionless, face in shock.
From here, on forward, as the figure did his job a total of five guards lost their lives, six more found that they had no memory of that night, and a further four ran home scared witless. He could have played it quiet if he wanted to. He could have been nothing but a stalking shadow; but this particular night he had a role to play, he had to cause as much chaos as possible, he had to make it messy. And he had to kill; and so he did.
Little more than an hour before this figure - this assassin entered the castle, nothing but screams, gunshots and explosions sounded from the main hall. Inside there was utter confusion and utter disaster. The black, and white suits, and the pretty frilly dresses of the posh crowd became a spiralling slur of screaming, and showered in the blood red caused with the bullets ripping through them. Anarchy at it's best. And somewhere in the middle of it all, the assassin ducked, and dived through, killing random furies that bumped into him with a quick shot, and any guards that challenged to shoot at him.
Till, with the bizarre luck he made it to the stand, where his prey cowered behind the speech-box, held a gun to his head of a quivering skunk in a posh well-groomed tuxedo, and pulled the trigger. Red blood, pink brains and white pieces of skull painted to stage floor; and in a flash, the assassin was gone; he ran, gone to leave the poor crowd in panic, and shock-horror, to gape at their newly assassinated president...
He dashed through fancy decorated corridors; the red carpet beneath his dark black boots only softened his rapidly moving dashing steps. As he ran, and threw himself around corners; bullets narrowly miss him and impale themselves in the delicate walls.
After hastily navigating his way through the maze of corridors; and sprinting in front a mob of trigger-happy guards, he came at last to the entrance hall. With no need to play it quiet, and a desperate need to get out, he would just sprint straight across.
He was out in the open now and running for his life towards the forest, across the gravel path with Limos and cars parked neatly along the cul-de-sac style drive. With a wave of bullets ripping past him he leaps into a bush!
Several guards skid to a halt, carbines aimed into the bushes. The swivel there sights left, to right, scanning the possible hiding spots, before one calls over his radio, "Clear," and then they depart...
Several days from then, Sepp lay still in the bed Flow and he shared. It had been weeks since the wolf was home, and the fox had been calling around trying to find him desperately; he was giving up hope fast. Maybe Flow had run away. Until one day...
BRING! The phone suddenly screeched its call around the whole apartment, within a split second the fox's paw was upon the handset, he lifts it to his ear and sits up quickly, "Hello?!" he was panting...
"We are to understand you've been seeking a wolf known as, Flowkrad Scott Phoenix...?" this voice sounded quiet, and somewhat sinister over the phone, Sepp gulped, and grips the phone with both his paws,
"Do you know where he is?! Is he okay?-"
"Shut up and listen!" Sepp did so very quickly, "Flow is alive, and he made contact with us just last night..."
The fox's ears swivel with curiosity, "Made... contact?" by now he was on his knees on the bed, with his tail wrapped about his legs, shivering.
"Yes, made contact. He was sent on an assassination mission that went astray; didn't he tell you that much about himself?!" Sepp merely grunted a quiet squeak as the voice continued, "Flow is trapped on a remote island, and he's been surviving on it ever since; he snuck into a radio out on the island and made contact, we're going to attempt to pick him up soon - no matter what I felt about it he insisted you were there..."
"...okay..."
"We will pick you up," the phone clicked, marking the end of this conversation...