Post by [ D E J A • vu ] on Oct 13, 2011 21:10:22 GMT -5
You hold the key to my heart . . .
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It was one of those cold nights, where no one was outside to feel winter’s cold sting on their delicate skin. The streets were decorated with sparkling white blankets of snow, not a footprint messing up its flawless surface. No one would come out on a night like this, where the chill in the air could take a life if it was the right timing. Yes, this night was deadly to humans.
Then again, the two that were out tonight weren’t humans.
A woman of 20 years of age walked along the street, the snow crunching under her steel-toed boots. Black leggings covered her slim, long legs, showing the graceful curve of them as she walked with wide, ground-eating strides. Her body was thin but curvy and extremely muscled, even if it didn’t look like it. Over the leggings she wore blue jean shorts and a silk shirt that was the color of the night sky. Shimmering silver hair flowed out behind her, reaching her elbows. She had been born with the silver hair, and had spent most of her life loving it. Humans would have made fun of it, but, still, she wasn’t human. This was made obvious by her eye color; her left eye was an unnaturally light green, while her right was a light, pastel purple color. Definitely inhuman.
She walked alone for quite a while, ruining the snow’s flawlessness with her strides. She seemed unaffected by the below zero degree weather, and she truthfully didn’t care for the snow at all.
She lifted her head suddenly, turning it to look a ways behind her. “Syn,” She called. Her voice was a perfect soprano, like music in the dark night.
The snow suddenly exploded a few feet behind her, from the impact of a man. He stood, grinning wickedly, pointed teeth gleaming in the moonlight. His fluffy white hair stuck up wildly, going every which way but still perfectly straight. Bright, cobalt blue eyes watched everything widely, and his pale hand gripped a knife. He stood taller than the woman, at 6’2” and growing. He was unhealthily skinny for a man of his height and profession, but he was stronger than all body-builders. He could be faster than a car on good days. More deadly than a bomb.
About as innocent as someone on death row.
“Are you done?” The woman asked as he ambled up.
“No,” He muttered. “There’s no one to cut up.”
“We’re not here to cut people up,” The woman scolded, irritated. “Just don’t kill anyone, okay? We have to capture this one.”
“Fine,” He gave a pout. “You could be nicer to me, Kyth.”
“Well I don’t have to be nice, I’m Leader.”
“It doesn’t make you boss of me.”
“Yes it does. If you keep this up I’ll give you a mission inside an active volcano and hope it blows up with you in it.”
“You’d have to go with me, partner.”
“I don’t have to. I’m Leader.”
The man gave an inhuman hiss and his knife flashed out at her, but she was already ten feet ahead of him, walking again. The snow showed no signs of footprints from where she had stood to where she was standing. The snow had barely been disturbed.
Syn looked at her, his cobalt eyes staring, piercing into Kyth.
“Stop that,” She muttered, and motioned to him. “Let’s go.”
The white-haired Reacher followed her at a close pace, but just out of arm’s length. He had learned to stay at that distance the hard way.
“What exactly are we doing?” Syn grumbled. “I haven’t heard, seen or smelled anything since we got here.”
“Vyna went missing last week,” Kyth told him. She glanced over at him. “The girl who healed those bullet wounds when you got shot after an attack?”
“Ah,” Syn looked away from Kyth, not wanting to give her the pleasure of meeting her eye to eye. With this girl, anything was a reason to punch. “So she’s missing but we know she’s here somewhere?”
“Yes,” Kyth gave a nod, and then stopped in her tracks. She looked around slowly, her inhuman eyes looking at every inch of space.
Syn stopped as well, lifting his nose into the air like a dog and taking in deep, chest-filling sniffs.
“Smell that?” Kyth asked.
“Yes,” Syn grinned slowly. “Blood.”
“Good,” Kyth pointed in the direction of the smell. “Go and see what it is. No… Basking.”
“Yes ma’am,” Syn snickered, and disappeared. The only hint that he was there was the occasional footprint every 50 feet.
Kyth turned to look the other direction. For a millisecond, she thought she saw a cloak disappearing behind the building.
The Leader stiffened, and she darted over, looking behind the building to see who was there.
But no one was.
Kyth let out an annoyed grumble and disappeared, going in the direction of Syn.
She was surprised to find Syn crouched on the ground, pushing at blood-stained snow with his hands, getting them wet as well.
“What is it?” Kyth asked.
“It’s not Vyna’s,” Syn told her. “But she was here, definitely.”
“Good,” Kyth glanced around, feeling paranoid after the cloak incident. “Go find her. I’ll stay here and see what happened.”
Syn gave a curt nod and disappeared once more, his lithe body flying over a building as though it were just a pillow to jump over.
Kyth leaned down to take a closer look at the snow, but it was impossible to tell what had happened other than complete carnage. Blood was spattered across the ground, across the wall of the building, and it was fresh.
She wondered what in the world had happened. Vyna had healing powers, no powers that could do this kind of damage. Nor would she want to. Vyna had always been a petite, innocent girl that couldn’t have hurt a fly. Her brother, Dyn, might have been capable of it, but Syn hadn’t said anything about her brother.
Kyth lifted her head, glancing around to make sure no ghosts were following her, and disappeared after Syn.
She found him on the outside of an apartment building, looking up at it intensely, as though some treasure was to be found there.
“What is it?” Kyth asked.
“Vyna,” Syn grinned slowly, his white fangs glinting.
“What’s she doing?”
“Crying,” Syn looked over at her.
Kyth simply looked back at the building, and stared for a moment before starting forward. They walked up the stairwell, seeing dried blood, vomit, and bullet holes in the walls and along the stairs. Definitely not the best town they had been in.
“Is anyone else here?” Kyth asked.
“No,” Syn answered. “No one.”
Kyth gave a curt nod and stopped in front of the room when Syn indicated it. They stood there quietly for a moment, Syn’s nose in the air as he caught the scent of fresh, fresh blood.
“None of the blood is hers?” She asked.
“No,” Syn replied again. “But… Something in there smells weird. I don’t like it.”
“Then we’ll be careful,” Kyth held her hand up, and gripped the door handle. In seconds, it disappeared, and she kicked her boot against the door, causing it to slam open.
Vyna sat in the middle of the room, sobbing. Blood soaked her like rain after a storm. She herself was not harmed, but…
“Syn, move!” Kyth screamed at him.
Before he could react, the invisible force that Kyth had sense standing behind Vyna suddenly shot forward, and Syn was crushed against the wall, leaving a dent. Syn let out a strangled yell and thrashed, kicking the unseen person that held him.
Syn became very still, pulling out his knife. Kyth merely watched him, calm.
It only took the slightest movement to set Syn off. He was immediately wherever the challenger was, slashing his knife towards the sounds and the movements on the rug that pronounced the other one’s footsteps.
Finally, his knife cut, and red blood seeped out of midair.
“Dang it,” A young voice grumbled.
Suddenly, he appeared. He wasn’t very tall at all; only about 4’11”. He had dark green hair and blue eyes, and he looked pouty.
Kyth was surprised. “What the heck? Who are you, kid?”
“I’m not a kid!” He yelled at her.
She grabbed his wrist swiftly. “I’m sure you noticed what I did to the door. I’m not afraid to do the same to your arm.”
Terror filled the young boy’s face, and then, just as suddenly as it had appeared, the fear disappeared. Instead, he grinned, and spit in Kyth’s face.
“Ooh,” Syn cackled as Kyth’s face slowly began to turn red. “You shouldn’t have done that, little guy.”
Kyth gripped the boy’s forehead, and even as his skin was dissolving into nothingness, a smile remained on his face.
“That kid was weird,” Syn claimed, and walked over to Vyna. Carefully, he sniffed her. She winced, shrinking away from him.
“Syn…?” She asked quietly.
“Yes,” He said. “Can’t you see me?”
She turned her head, and he saw that her eyes were squeezed shut. “No…” She whispered. “Blood got into them…”
“Who was that?” Kyth asked, using the hem of her shirt to wipe the saliva from her face. “And why the heck were they smiling?”
“Um…” Vyna got the look of terror across her face that the boy had gotten. “I… I want to go home.”
“Vyna, you need to tell me,” Kyth demanded. “And where’s your partner?”
“That was him!” Vyna screamed suddenly. Kyth looked startled. Vyna had never screamed like that before. Shaking, the poor girl seemed to shrink. “I just want to go home. I’ll put everything I know in my paperwork. I just want to go home…”
“Kyth,” Syn warned. Kyth nodded in silence, and started out the door.
Syn helped Vyna stand, and he led her out, following Kyth’s footprints.
The young Leader was troubled. This sort of behavior from a Reacher wasn’t normal; all Reachers, whether they worked for the Order or not, had to obey their laws. It was like humans and a monarchy; you didn’t necessarily have to work for the king to be under his rule. To see that this Reacher was smiling as she killed him, and that he had been Vyna’s partner, was not natural. It was unnerving.
“Kyth,” Syn said suddenly, and she stopped, turning.
“What?” She asked, snappish.
“You’re doing it again,” He glared at her accusingly.
Kyth glanced down at her foot and saw it tapping furiously against the ground.
“Ugh,” She said, disgusted, and kept walking.
Syn followed, gripping Vyna’s arm to keep her from falling over. She was still trembling, stumbling along as though the weight of the world had crashed down upon her head and she simply didn’t have the strength—or will—to hold it.
The trip was silent. As they reached the end of the city, the evenly-blanketed snow began to get deeper, and they trudged through. Several times Vyna simply collapsed, and started crying for no apparent reason. Kyth found Syn to be surprisingly sympathetic, but then again, he knew what it was like to have blood all over him.
A thought struck her suddenly; Syn had said that all the blood wasn’t Vyna’s, but she hadn’t seen a scratch on the other boy other than the one Syn had given him. Not a drop of blood was on him.
So whose blood was it?
A rustle made Kyth turn swiftly. Syn stopped, letting Vyna fall to her knees in the snow. She dug her hands into it, up to her elbows, and she sat there and shook.
“Syn,” Kyth demanded, and he automatically lifted his nose into the air and began to sniff.
“I don’t smell anyone,” He insisted.
“I heard someone,” Kyth snapped at him, and she suddenly spun, her arm stretching out to grab the shoulder of the approaching man. He froze as her markings glowed. “So you know me,” Kyth gave a sweet, fake smile. “Well then you know that I’m not very nice. So tell me, who are you working for and why are you attacking us?”
Terror in his eyes, the man stammered, “The Reapers’ leader, she…!” He stopped suddenly. His face went blank, and for a moment, his eyes seemed to be glazed over, lost. Then, he smiled slowly. That same unnerving feeling came over Kyth, and she let out a growl.
“Who are the Reapers?” She demanded.
The man just kept smiling, and his eyes slowly turned to look at Vyna. “Hello,” He told her, his voice deep and gravelly. His grin widened. “Vyna.”
As soon as he said her name, Vyna let out a wail as though he had stabbed her. She twisted around, breaking free of Syn’s firm grasp, and she darted the other direction, crying.
Kyth just stared after her, startled. Syn turned to Kyth and shrugged slowly.
“Get her,” Kyth said.
Syn nodded and darted after Vyna.
The Leader turned her attention to the smiling man. “You’re screwed up,” She told him, and his chest was gone in less than a second.
Kyth turned and waited patiently, but she didn’t have to wait long before he returned with Vyna in his arms. Syn held the record for being the fastest Reacher in all of the Order. If anyone tried to challenge him for it, Kyth would merely laugh at them.
“She’s scared,” Syn told Kyth.
“No duh,” Kyth shot back. Syn frowned, knowing Kyth was irritated because of the amount of people doing the same thing repeatedly. She never liked repetition.
Kyth stalked off, and Syn followed, Vyna cradled in his arms like a child would cradle a baby doll. He kept his head low, watching Kyth with stiff awareness. Even though she was out of arm’s reach, she could easily decide to get angry and just turn on him.
“You have issues,” He noted.
“I have issues?!” She cried, spinning around. “You’re the one who goes around bathing in blood, you weirdo! Why do you like blood so much anyway?!”
“No,” Syn merely mumbled, and he plodded off through the snow. Kyth followed close, fuming now. He looked at her. “Why are you mad?” He asked.
“I’m not mad,” Kyth answered, snapping. “I’m irritated at you.”
“Me?” Syn grinned. “Am I upsetting you again?”
“Yes, you’re weird,” Kyth retorted.
Syn stopped for a moment.
“Well you’re fat,” He pouted, and continued following her.
“Everyone is fat compared to you,” Kyth argued, grumbling. “Bean pole. Six foot two and you only weigh 110 pounds? I think not!”
“It’s not my fault I’m irresistibly handsome,” Syn bragged.
“More like unnaturally anorexic,” Kyth muttered under her breath.
“You two fight like brother and sister,” Vyna whispered. Her eyes were slightly open now, revealing her golden eyes, the ones that had green flecks in them. It was unusual but not impossible for a Reacher to have two colors in one eye.
“I don’t have a sister,” Syn muttered. He trudged past Kyth in a power-walk mode, going about as fast as the average human could jog.
Surprised by his sulking reaction, Kyth merely followed.
It took them another 20 minutes to get back to the Order’s grounds. It would have taken 5, but with Vyna covered head to toe in blood they couldn’t exactly go waltzing through the crosswalk in the middle of town.
The gate’s guards recognized the long silver hair and irritated walk of their Leader, and they had the Gate open for them when they approached.
“Syn,” Kyth directed as they made their way towards the Order’s main building. “Take Vyna to the Infirmary and find Dyn. Tell him what happened.”
Syn just nodded and disappeared down the hallway.
Kyth strode back towards her office, but as soon as she turned down the hallway that led to her room, she saw about five apprentice Reachers standing outside the door.
“What’s going on?” Kyth groaned. “Move, all of you, out of the way, I can’t do anything until I’m in the room.”
A flurry of young, anxious voices filled her ears as she unlocked the door and strode in. She sat in the chair behind her desk and watched as the five apprentices shuffled around each other, whining about getting their mentor’s paperwork in and getting things approved.
“All right, quiet!” Kyth snapped loudly. All five apprentices’ mouths shut tightly. Kyth rubbed her temples and mumbled, “Oldest first.”
Immediately, a tall young girl stepped forward. “My mentor is Maryn Luw, and she needs a different partner. Hers was married last week and became partners with his spouse.”
“That’s Director Yukito’s job, go take it to him,” Kyth directed. “Next oldest.”
This time it was a boy, looking like he was more mature than the rest of them. “My Mentor is Ren Kima and he wanted me to give you this letter. He said it was urgent.”
Kyth stared at the letter for a moment, a bit dazed. She hadn’t heard from Ren in a long time; nearly two months. It had been almost two ever since the fake Nyun incident had happened, and he had asked her out for the first time when she got the news that she was the new Leader. Ren had asked her to dinner, and that night was still one to remember. They had ended up having a wonderful time, and he had made her laugh for the first time in weeks. He had been pleasant to be around, was cynical enough to keep her more sour side in check while still being sweet enough to make her feel shy.
“Thank you,” Kyth said finally, taking the letter from the boy. “What’s your name? Ren’s level 27, normally levels that high don’t take on apprentice Reachers.”
“My name’s Orick Stell,” He said, bowing his head slightly. “Level 6 Mission Reacher.”
“Ah,” Kyth nodded slightly. “You’re a Stell.”
“Yes ma’am,” Orick replied.
“And how old are you?”
“Thirteen, ma’am.”
Kyth nodded, studying him. Reacher children grew faster, to the point where three year olds often had the physical and mental abilities of a seven year old. Al, since he was human, only grew half as fast, but he had still needed to begin his training when he had turned three last month. He was a foot and a half shorter than the shortest kid in training and he struggled in his academic classes so badly that Emily had finally agreed to hire him a tutor.
Good thing Al caught on quickly.
“Good job,” Kyth told Orick. “Tell Ren I received his letter.”
“Yes ma’am, thank you ma’am,” Orick bowed his head and then rushed out.
Kyth watched him leave. The Sella family had always been the second most famous Reacher family in the world. They were known for their amazing jobs as Reacher spies; the leader of the black ops division in the Order had always been a Sella. In fact, the current black ops director was Orick’s older sister, Lezibel.
The only reason she knew this was because Lezibel and Rynu had dated briefly. It had been the worst month and a half of her life, being ignored by her older brother.
The other three apprentices simply had forms for her to approve and sign, which she did, and then she was alone.
She glanced towards the giant pile of paperwork in her inbox, but her purple and green eyes instead wandered to look at the letter that had come from Ren. Curiosity and laziness got the best of her and she opened it.
Muttering to herself under her breath, she read, “Dear Kyth, I realize that we’ve both gotten so busy that we don’t seem to have time for anything but work anymore. Why don’t you come have dinner with me tomorrow night, just you and me? Ren.”
She smiled slightly.
“All right then,” She said to herself. “You could use a break.”
She pulled out a piece of paper and began to write back.
But I don't hold the lock anymore.