The Truth of Veruss: Genesis and Awakening

This story is 9780 words long. It is written mostly in present tense like visual novels (interactive stories w/ graphics, music, etc). It's only one chapter. I hope your reviews help.

Chapter 0: The Vigilance and Legion, the Fallen Plague.

A well-dressed man with a black tie and suit is hoping briskly around another man in a circle. His arms move as energetically as his slim, long legs. I am about five feet away from him, in the corner of this room looking at him. His facial expressions are odd; his mouth moves in a motion as if gargling on water and he eyes widen. He is staring at only one thing; another man, this one is sitting on a chair with his head down; stiff as an artistic sculpture. Both his hands are freely hanging about below his shoulders, touching the plain and grey cement ground. They flop like a fish in some moments; and those hands also move as if boneless. This man wears a white t-shirt and white shorts; an average look for any common individual. And this one seats in a hunching position on the wooden chair, blankly and quietly staring at the floor.

          The man in black suit and tie continues to go in a circle; choosing to maintain focus on the one sitting down. This scene is too weird for me to say anything or to do anything. Because of this, I have been fairly quiet; and patient. I do not know what may happen if I were to stop the man with the black suit. I fear he could do something unthinkable. My body wants to retreat. But my bones feel like they are on ice, I cannot tell if I am moving or not; or if I am actually been held back by a rope. I am also unsure of what sort of facial expressions I am making in this weird situation.

          Tap. Tap.

          The man in black suit stops his tracks with two loud steps, and his body leans toward the man in the chair. Again, he continues looking at his target of interest. What is his deal? What is he trying to do? I can hear him inhaling and exhaling with large breaths. After doing that three times, he straighten up his posture.

          His behaviour changes radically. No longer is he a weird man hopping in circles. Instead, he turns into a more serious character, standing with both hands on the back; talking while lifting his head up.

          “What…doing…truth.”

          I barely hear a voice coming from two individuals. Who is it that is speaking? I try to approach them but I cannot. I feel like my whole body is uncontrollable. I can only think. I can only observe.

          “Getting…this…you”

          As the man in black suit walk to the left side, I now see the man in the chair speaking. This time the voice is different.

          “What…playing you scum?”

          It still remain difficult to hear their drawn out conversation, but I could tell that it is slowly getting clearer and louder.

          “I got prove of…innocence.”

          The man in the chair is now speaking as he focuses on the man in black suit.

          “Go on.”

          “It is you who’s guilty. Not me.”

          The man in black suit did not react to his accusation positively or negatively. He maintains composure and says nothing to him.

          “I don’t understand. The silent treatment. You should be more concern if I were you, I am accusing you of a crime.”

          “I know those claims are blatant lies, you made it up. Tell me everything.”

          “It is all in paper, I need not say anything. The documents I call evidence which details your plans. Plans of the crime. Then, there’s photos. Photos of you.”

          “Just like that? Tell me then what my role is in that ‘evidence’ you got. Look at me and say it because I want to hear an argument from you that’ll shake me in fear.”

          “I’ll say nothing. Oh, I hear them coming.”

          “Nobody’s coming for you…Huh?”

          There is a steel door opening in front of the man in black suit, which I did not notice before. Two figures enter the room and immediately apprehends the man in black suit.

          “Did you two gentlemen see those documents? Did you? Then take him away.”

          “This the guy?”

          Both figures, who are large men, simultaneously asks the man sitting who nods his head in confirmation.

          “Alright, let’s get this scumbag out. I always knew he was shady. A weirdo before and a criminal now. Can’t wait to send him to be punished under our law.”

          “What are you pulling off now? You can’t get away like this.”

          Both figures drag the man in black suit out of the room. Just like that, the person sitting down gets the advantage. With one paper of evidence and apparently photos. What crime? It escalate so quickly I find myself feeling somewhat confuse.

          So did the man in black suit gets taken to custody just like that? I could not get a good look at the facial expressions of the man. But his voice gives out a calm impression, reacting little to the accusation; believing that he is guilty of nothing.

          “Yes, oh yes.”

          The man still is sitting down; talking to himself.

          He is suspicious. It was not the evidence which he apparently gotten so suddenly is strange. It was the smile and expressions of pure relief that was suspicious. It is a look of any men found innocent in a murder case after being labelled a ‘suspect’. It was not the laugh that made him odd. It was his genuine look of feeling like a winner, and the person he dislikes get sent off to some place indecent. Once a case is said to be ‘resolved’, no one is going to think he is guilty; he is free to do as please. I know he must be hiding something even sinister inside of him. It is because I recognise that sort of behaviour that haunts me.

          You cannot hide the truth forever. I may not be able to do anything. But I will keep my eyes on you. It is just not fair to the man in black suit, he is not given a chance to prove himself innocent. To me a man who is truly innocent would not smile or celebrate his victory.

          “You’re still here.”

          He raises his head and faces me directly. I say nothing because I cannot speak or react. He stands up and approaches me slowly. He looks somewhat angry, frowning at the sight of me. He stops just about a foot away from me. He nods. And he pounces. His true self. A tyrant. The guilty one.

          I feel absolutely nothing from that. As if my body is void of any pain. Everything in my sight becomes darker until I see only blackness. What am I experiencing? Is this what nothing is like? I am swimming in this darkness, moving in search of light. It is not that I am afraid; I just do not like this sense of emptiness.

I see a little source of light coming from the corner of my eyes. And more light. And a white flash appear before me. It all becomes so clear to me now, this room I see; but I just do not feel awake. I could tell I am in a different place right now.

The surrounding walls and ceiling are colourless; and fairly bright despite the lack of a window and electricity. The objects, chairs; sofas and desk are as grey as the walls, almost blending into them. Parts of the furniture are grey blocks, the legs; and the body too, like children’s toys. The sofa, is painfully uncomfortable, I know this; for I am lying on one right now. My head leans on the left armrest, while the entire body lay on the hard, flat surface. I can feel the tailbone and part of the cervical poking on the seat. Painful as it is, I get the sense of it getting worse. I notice a slight tense on my rib cages, making it difficult to move.

Something is sitting on me. I reach out to the source that weighs like a ton of carcasses; trying to push it off. I swipe my hands with full force but nothing comes in contact. I am swiping at seemingly nothing but air, so the weight still remain. This is becoming a problem, especially when it comes to breathing. I want to inhale some air, yet an unknown is refusing me from doing so; causing my heart to stop. I vaguely see a phantom, it is a he; or she, that is sitting on my chest"faceless, yet full of malice. It has the most evil intents, of smothering me to death"the worse possible way to pass on.

“Ignatius.”

Somebody is calls to my name softly. I cannot make out the voice, a man or a woman? The tone of that voice sounds oddly kind. It is difficult to make out if the voice is real or not.

I may only be here alone in this room, but I can sense them. Knock, knock. I hear a door opening on my right. Are you human? No, my true question is: Are you trying to help? Someone is here; and I need only call out to them, with a desperate loud voice. But I hesitate with doubts of a rescue. 

They are nearby but just not there for me. I am staying quiet, so they see nothing abnormal happening from their point-of-view. If there is anything strange, it would have been remaining silent in dire situations. Because you do not. It is unnatural to do so. The most introvert and the mute could even find ways to call for help. That is a problem for me, what do you call people like that? A"

          “Oof!”

          I spring out of the sofa immediately, breathing heavily while I clutch onto the clothing of my chest. Still puffing and wheezing, I turn and look everywhere in the room; searching for that phantom. I feel only the thumping heartbeats, a continuous tempo that signal the return to reality. I knew that the phantom was not real. But, I sense it lingering in this room still; in the corner of my sight, or away from it.

          Napping during the summer day leaves an effect of heaviness. Even though I need some air from outside, I feel all too lazy to move. Though this is not going to benefit me, I just need to force myself up. I drop both legs on the carpet floor and let out a big sigh. An annoying dizziness kicks in, making me feel like fainting. I allow myself some seconds to recover my vision and mind. I stand up with slight difficulty, I waddle"like a drunk"towards the window beside the wooden bookcase. I notice my clothing drench in sweat and smelling of poor body odour. I should grab a towel to wipe off the sweat on my chest and arms, but I desperately need air outside. I slide open the frame of the window, and push my head outside.

There are some draughts of air, though none feels better than the damp, claustrophobic air in this room. Not even the natural breeze could ease my suffering. How absurd, what good is a highly expensive apartment when there is no air-conditioning available? They were broken earlier today, even the entire apartment is affected. It is fortunate this office room; is the coolest area of this apartment room, but it is still of no help. The most logical solution to counter humidity would be going outdoors; into air-conditioned areas. A particular order from a man, along with a stern warning restricted me from leaving. I asked him for reasons, and he gives one of his vague responses. I trust the man enough, and I know him as an honest man and did not press any further.

          I lean against the wall to stare outside at the evening sun. The dampness is putting me asleep. It affects my vision into slight blurriness as I try to watch the moving vehicles and pedestrians heading to their destinations. The sun shines even lesser in this moment; as it is slowly setting below the horizon. The forthcoming night should invite in some cool breeze, at least till the air-conditioning operates again. I truly despise the summer, it affects my mind and body poorly, making me fatigue.

The other singular thing about the humidity I dislike, aside from feeling unbearably hot, is that it strikes a sense of desolation. It reminds me of lonely times from the past. Where I question my part in society, then somehow cheering myself up, eventually. Those days feel awful; and coincidentally hot and my surroundings would turn dark like it is late evening. I think as if suffering from a bad childhood. Although, I never been physically abused and no adults ignore my daily needs, like food and education. That should not make those times depressing at all, if anything; it makes me ungrateful. I know that, for a fact. Though, at times, my wishes are unheard of that it feels unfair. Like failing to pursue my interest in drawing, due to assignments being piled up; and having no choice but to complete them. If not, I will get a scolding, and assignments I finish would not be acknowledge"making me feel unworthy in a sense.

I live in an extravagantly appointed apartment, and the owner is a well-known defence lawyer. The owner is also my adopted parent, who took me in a decade ago from an orphanage I dreaded living in. There is also my guardian; and bodyguard, who takes good care of me. I rather not disappoint them by refusing assignments for the sake of my own interest; no matter how dull.

No, dejecting oneself is for the negative thinkers, I refuse to be classified as such. I blame the summer for that, never again should I lose myself in those thoughts. That is for certain.

Well now, the skies are looking darker and darker. The sun is nowhere to be seen amidst the horizon, and the stars show themselves, is it that late already? The antique clock on the wall behind me says"three-thirty p.m. That is not late, so the time is inaccurate, I do not think I adjust it according to the daylight savings. However, the transition into dusk would not occur even if it were an hour ahead.

          I see the afternoon before me transforming into night-time. The office room is near pitch black, and the darkness especially, is putting my mind to sleep. Some lighting can counter that, so I hope the electricity for the lights work. I walk"normally this time"towards the switch; which also features a dial to adjust the brightness. I press the button and turn the dial clock-wise close to its limit. There, the office now is as bright as day; so the lights work. What about the air-conditioning? My hands are already reaching out to the remote for air-condition. No, not operational. I suppose it was cut off during repairs, and only the lights now are running through a generator below the apartment basement. If only the apartment installs ceiling fans, its residents would not suffer from humidity.

          As I turn to the window, I notice something peculiar. Well, it has gotten late"no, that is a mistake. I am sure of it.

          I am most certain it is too soon for night-time, especially when it was the afternoon only ten; maybe fifteen minutes before. The frame of the window is open, so it cannot be the glass I am seeing. Rather, I should inspect it closer, stick my head out to observe the city below.

          I stick my head out and see nothing, as if looking inside of a dark, closed space closet. The abrupt change from night to pitch black is something out of an imagination, or beyond anything an individual could visualise. I swing my hand below and above, touching only the air. My body tenses up from that small experiment. I pull myself backwards into the bright office room. Somehow, I am just being silly, unable to comprehend this strange phenomenon.

          “Whoa.”

A startling rush of wind flew by inside the room, like earlier; it is warm and damp.  

          The lights outside"what happened? No visible light posts nor vehicles can be seen at all, even roads; and below seem like a bottomless pit. I stick my head outside again to observe the neighbouring apartment windows. If it this dark, logic would mean turning the lights on. Have they gone outside? Impossible, the streets are empty. Why are the streets empty?

          I am wasting time. It is not the matter of understanding what is going around here. I need to find help. I need to phone my guardian.

          I run to the telephone on the nearby desk, and as I hold the receiver; the buttons which displays the numbers light up. I dial his number hastily, the same one from many years ago; which I even have an odd attachment to it. The ringing tone, thankfully, can be heard.

          Buzz.

          The alarming sound of electricity is coursing through the receiver. I slam it down quickly, otherwise it would have electrocuted me.

Did the entire city of Royalrose; and maybe even the entire country of Pandomania lost all of its electrical energy? Only this apartment strangely, has working power"save for the air-conditioning. I feel grateful for that, really. Though I start to shiver; as if a rush of cold air passing through.

I should adapt to the situation, perhaps reading can help? Panicking now helps nobody, especially to myself. I must not lose my entire sanity so easily; if anything, I should be patient.

I walk over to the front of bookcases with composure, looking at each volumes of mystery, fantasy, and science fiction novels. I recall finishing only one of each genre, a shame really. I need to experience those wondrous adventures of quirky, nonchalant characters once more. The end of the first fantasy fiction ended abruptly with little conclusion to the story, hence a sequel.

I pick the first volume, skipping all five hundred pages to the final page. I recall the ending instantly as I look at the prints, sighing at the tactic the author uses to close the book.

I return the book to its original spot, taking the second volume afterwards. I stare at the rather unique artwork of the front cover; feeling in awe. I flip to the pages of its prologue, where it does not start off from the cliff-hanger ending of its previous book. The chapter starts by describing the exquisite beauty of the man with no nose.

Rumble.

          The books filled on the shelves begin to vibrate softly.

Rumble.

The vibrations then suddenly"very suddenly"become stronger each second, like an earthquake. No, it must be an earthquake.

          The apartment is shaking; though not violently. Still, I want to get out. There is no way anyone can be safe in this moment, leaving is my priority. I remember well of my guardian’s warning, but he cannot expect I endure this frightening situation. I rush over to the drawers of my desk. I toss every item aside, notepads; pens, and staplers. I reach for the compact torchlight that is hidden; deep inside the drawer. I nudge the switch with my thumb; turning it on. The lights are somewhat dim, showing that the batteries may need replacement soon. Though, the battery capacity is the least of my concern, I only hope it last until the earthquake ceases. I look at the door; and begin running.

          I leave the front door; and begin running to the door leading into the stairwells. I shove through the door like a battering ram. The lights in the stairwells still function, making the exit easier. Immediately, I start running and making big leaps downstairs. I rarely do any physical activities, at times I feel unfit for long walks. This moment, I push myself over the limit. The rush of adrenaline kicks in and passing each flight of stairs in mere seconds. Echoes from my steps as I land are like gunshots, so loud it hurts my ears. Regardless, it is the quickest method down ten floors and the many flights of stairs.

There, the ground floor exit. I push through the door with some strength. Goodness, I now notice my heart beating rapidly. I huff and puff each second. Pulses are beating inside my cranium. Again, the hot summer air is of no help and without the torchlight; I would have fallen down unconscious from drowsiness. The only thing keeping me focus is the earthquake, the one I am attempting to get away from. If I can.

But.

“Huff"Puff.”

I cannot not go any further, I need some air. If I keep moving, it could mean fainting, which I rather not experience in my life. No, that is not the way to think, the exit outside is only nearby; and some walks away. Why am I focusing on my lack of energy instead of the real situation"where it could potentially end my life?

A strong sensation knock my senses back to reality. It was the ground, this time rumbling more violently. Getting out of there is a priority. I cannot afford to walk slowly. Please, let me run; so I can be away from this dreadful position.

Somehow, my vision becomes clearer as I place my focus on running. With that, I start walking in a faster pace. I head towards left on a glass door rather than the middle unresponsive automated doors.

Finally, I am out of there. Just not out from the earthquake though. Where to for safety? Great, I did not plan that far ahead. Hang on, I hear something. It does not sound like rumbling, now when I think about it"why can I not hear the ground shaking from the earthquake?

I hear a stream of noises as if nearby a forest river; and it does not sound like a passing wind. Listening to it a second longer, I turn to the source, at north-east. Right as I look, a strange light starts emitting in-between two high-rise buildings.

The light seem unrecognisable in colour"if you could call it one.

“Whoa.”

That hurts, and to my luck, I turn just in time away from the blinding light which appeared so suddenly. The rumbling however, is causing me to lose balance very quickly.

“Oof that hurts.”

I fell on my back. It was carelessness on my part. What about that strange light? Where is it? The earthquake is making it difficult to see.

There, the lights are not as bright as before. I can tell that the energy from the lights eased and fell below. The whole city fell dead silent for a moment, not even the rumbling gave sound. Have I gone deaf? I hear only tinnitus, and the movement must have been so intense it drained my hearing senses. Hey, the earthquake; has it stop?

I stand up with some effort and look again at the building. It is too quiet. Like a suspense waiting to surprise me.

Boom. Bang.

          The sounds of two explosions startles me and turn my attention again towards the high-rise buildings.

Swoosh.

“There!”

The light appears again; unlike before, it is crimson red. Before I can observe further, a demonic aura is radiating from that light.

Swoooossshhhhhh.

That red beam of light shoots up to the sky like rockets. It passes through clouds; and perhaps even through the earth’s atmosphere.

“Rrrrooaaarrrr…rrrngggoohh!”

“Rrrrnggggghhhhh!”

The clear loud and an almost animalistic roar fills the entire city. Covering my ears is not enough to lessen that deafening cry. It sounds like a hybrid of noises, like a lion; a bear and even an eagle. The intensity begins shaking the ground from my end, despite being far from that area. Though not as great as the earthquake before; the raging ecstasy vibrates even my body inside. It is overpowering to the point that my legs start shaking and becoming weaker.

Thud.

I fell again, but feel no pain at all. I stare again at the powerful beam"at its energy.

          It looks like an ocean of lava, along with waves of hellfire coursing upwards. I see droplets of magma spewing out as well, but the oddest sights are the hands. On the side of the beam, humanoid arms can be seen hanging about. The arms alive; grabbing nothing but the flow of air.

          Swoosh!

The swing from that powerful beam of light sends strong gust of wind around the city. It falls downward in a vertical slice"like a blade.

As it falls down beyond from what I could see, an immense blinding light appear and covers all of Royalrose. I feel as if losing myself inside that light. I can hear almost nothing at all, except for a slight tinnitus inside my ears. And I am unsure if my eyes are open or even looking at anything at all.

Unconsciousness is not the right word as thinking about all this would not be possible. That strange could just be transporting, may be me from that little strange world of terrifying danger and into somewhere else. The only thing apparent now is my mind and the light. I cannot say if this feels calming or unsettling. It is an ambiguous mood, definitely nothing words can hope to describe.

Whoosh.

I hear a subtle noise, unsure if it is the wind or more noises from that powerful beam of light.

Whooooshhh.

A slight, cool air passes through me as the bright light dies off. I feel no longer engulf in intense brightness. And I open my eyes, like I am waking up to reality. I do not know how to react to all of this. I am no longer alone now that I could see people again. Straight away I look curiously at the surroundings. All the people and their pattering footsteps are loud and the moving; honking sounds from vehicles return Royalrose into its original bustling mood.

I start acting casually, hoping not to draw any attention or give anybody strange impressions of me. Looking at people, they all have their usual nonchalant expressions. Nobody knows what happened for sure, and it is best to keep that to myself. Especially when I know who to credit for that amazing explosion, killing an ear-piercing shrieking monster along with it. All of these, for sure, are efforts from the Vigilance"demon slayers.

All over the world, not just in Pandomania, these demons appear all so suddenly. The news report truly gave many people a shock, where the first sightings of demons were shown in a video last year. Sure, there are those sceptical; yet it stirs an interest to journalists out to prove the news wrong. Thanks to their recordings, the world today knows that demons are now reality. The torn, mutilated bodies of those journalists are shocking for sure; and popular on the internet too. The common people know not to venture into dark corners of the cities, countryside and in forests. But, I am baffled to hear that many people still lives in those places. Those are mainly peasants I think, and not many could protect them.

Only the Vigilance can. The general public do not know they exist. However they do know something or someone has been killing the demons. That is also from last year; but months after the demons appear. My guardian somehow learns of the Vigilance and decides to share it with me. How they would operate like mercenaries and having their own underground base. And how the members of the Vigilance are human in aspect, but born with strong, supernatural abilities.

They all live among us. It has been the case forever now. Normal humans just never realise it. And that event I witness just minutes before? Definitely the work of the Vigilance.

Whoosh.

The wind gust through the city once more. It is cool breeze, the one I truly need during humidity. This time though, I think nothing about it; instead, I am staring at the same high-rise buildings when those intense lights appear some time ago. The condition of the high-rise building is perfect, with no hints of any damage at all. I look for any signs of the contrary around me. The nearby buildings; roads and the ground which I am standing on also appears normal. That earthquake from earlier and that huge blast has curiously no effect whatsoever on the city’s infrastructure.

Are there no trace of from that blast over the high-rise buildings? It is as if I am hallucinating. And I just cannot accept that. In my opinion, time must have stop earlier; and only I am the witness of that event"that must be the truth.

If I go there, all should be present like an open book. What I hope to find is a mark, a shapeless form by the explosion. I doubt the buildings; roads, and walkways around the area has been damage at all. The Vigilance cannot hope to completely cover-up their involvement.

I walk hastily to the area behind those high-rise buildings. It is over at Tribull Plaza, where the fountain of Ginnix and a park can be seen. I pass through five crossings. The streets are still filled with many people walking to who knows where. I notice a specific crowd also heading to the same direction as I am.

Noises all around starts builds up as I am closer to Tribull Plaza. The men and women gather around in a large circle, all with that backs turn. I attempt to look, tip-toeing to get in sight, but everyone else are taller than I am. I look to my left at the high steps, where it leads to a higher ground. I climb up more a vantage where I could see Tribull Plaza much clearly. There, the fountain of Ginnix is in pieces, and water continues to shoot out from underground pipes. Around Tribull Plaza is an oversize shapeless mark, like I imagine so, which also resembles a huge stain. Nobody has dare to enter inside the mark, not even the policemen. Some would accidentally step inside and stepping outside instantly. But one thing is for sure, what everybody sees are evidence left by the Vigilance. No one can convince me otherwise, there is no other possible explanation for this awesome sight. But one question remains, what has happen to the body of the demon? It is from that powerful beam of light that kills the demon, yet I do not see any traces of it. No. That could not be, at the very least limbs and gush of blood should have splatter around Tribull Plaza. Did it vanish into thin air?

Thud.

A loud and impactful object suddenly falls into the open space. It produces a vibrating bass around the area. I could see it plain in sight. It looks like a foreign object. Something I am finding difficult to describe, unless a chrome; wobbly pipe-like object counts.

Splat.

I hear a soft drop of near liquid-like substances nearby.

Splat. Splat.

It continues to appear, like droplets of drizzling rain; but it sounds thicker and with high amount of liquid in each.

Thud. Splat. Thud.

Another forceful sound of a falling objects, following with more drops of strange liquid.

“Ahhhhhhh!”

There are simultaneous screaming of men and women in the crowd. It startles almost everybody. And everyone becomes rowdy. Panicking from drops of strange objects and liquids. That must be it. They are reacting to the sights of limbs and droppings of blood! A large pile of white flesh of fat alongside the rain of yellow murky blood fill up Tribull Plaza.

“Urk.”

I let out an instinct reaction to the sickening sight, feeling a little tense inside my stomach.

“Hurry! Get out!”

“You’re in my way, shove off!”

“Monster! A monster"!”

Desperate yells of grown men fleeing Tribull Plaza ignited a blazing panic. A continuous reaction which spreads everywhere.

“Ahh!”

“No, no, no!”

It is unbelievable and also very frightening. Everyone is violently pushing each other to the ground in fear while running. Some are leaping over ledges; benches and trash bins. I start seeing more coming over here. How can I defend myself? There, on my right is a small tree. I waste no time hugging it, with both arms wrapping around it. 

Thud. Thud. Thud.

The wild crowd of people are passing through me. I could feel the bumps and nudges. Still, with all my strength, I continue to hold onto the tree.

Thud. Thud. Thud!

A suddenly lift my head forward to the strange thumping noises.

What is this? Stop it. Can you not see the woman on the ground? Hey, hey! My goodness. You idiots! Stop running like that already! The child, those heartless rats. What am I witnessing? These are adults willing to step over lives for their own sakes!

I cannot bear to look any longer. I bury my face into my arms, attempting to also cover my ears. And still, the dreadful noise lingers.

Limbs has already stop falling. This time, the multitudinous sounds of impact are from human flesh. The trampling of young men, women and children happen in a flash. Are they alive? The chaotic situation is still occurring, and screaming is everywhere. I cannot tell as my eyes are close. It is fortune that no one has come to shove me out of this tree.

“Off!”

A large; and rough bare hand pull me away of the trees instantly. The hand still grips onto my left arm. I could barely feel it moving when I want it to. I turn to face the person with the strong grip.

It is a large; broad shoulder man, and seven feet tall. With a black fedora, he also wears a black trench coat, giving him an impression of a typical bad guy. Under the fedora is a middle-age man, with his stoic expression.

“Into your office young man, you probably knew what’d happened so we’d better discuss it there.”

He maintains his grip, pulling me along with him. He guides me, or rather, forces me out from the chaos and into safety. We even walk through the city roads, where most vehicles stop in their tracks due to the panicking crowds. Passing through the roads, we arrive back to the apartment quickly. He releases my arm and begin walking inside.

The man of few words, yet sagacious to an astonishing degree. My bodyguard and guardian for more than a decade. Alger Havensworth. The man with an unusual surname. And a highly talented war veteran. Agile for a man his age. Skilful in the arts of stealth and also saboteur. The man who chose to inform me about the Vigilance.

I head into elevator along with him. He press the number fifteen. As the elevator door opens as we arrive, a cold breeze sweep through me. I begin to tremble. It feels very cold, especially when I am drench in sweat. Well, it is fortunate to know that the air-conditioning works again. We head straight to number thirty-five. A sign on the front door reads: “I.R.L”. Isaac Reagan Lockstream. The name of my parent, a well-known lawyer who adopt me as his personal assistant. Another man which I am grateful towards.

Alger step inside before me, hanging his trench coat on the coat rack nearby. He welcomes himself into my personal office. I follow along behind him. Though I wish I could quickly request having a bath first to rid myself of the sweat. Too late for that now. I shall admit being curious about today’s events.

I enter my office to find him looking outside the window. Outside is still night-time, unlike before, I could see lights coming from neighbouring apartments. Staring at the clock; it reads: six-forty p.m.

Alger remains silent. That usually means waiting for a question he can answer. Although, by now; he should expect me to ask “What happened?”

Oh. I see. Alger at many occasions called me a quiet, young lad. I rather not hear it from him again. Alger is usually talkative, only this moment he surely is waiting for me to speak up. Is it not pointless to talk when it is an obvious question anyway? I am more concern of answers. Though, I should not keep myself waiting to ask.

“Alger, what was going on to the city?”

“You know who did it. Who left the remains of a demon raining down from the skies?”

“It is the Vigilance; obviously.”

“Of course, but nobody has seen it or witness it.”

“I know.”

“What did you just say boy?”

“Nobody saw it, I knew that.”

“And how on earth did you know that? Straight to the point Ignatius.”

Alger said that as if I was rambling. Though I should also assume that he too, like many others, did not actually see it happen.

“Alger. I saw it happen, there was an explosion. No, there was an earthquake before.”

“Hmm, go on.”

“At around three-thirty, the whole city gone entirely dark. No streets light, no pedestrians, no vehicles; absolutely pitch black outside. Soon after, an earthquake began and I got out of the apartment as quick as I could. Once outside, I saw a strange light. I saw it grew large and then it shot itself into the sky. A beam of powerful light, like a blade. At that time, I could hear the demon shrieking. So loud it could be heard all around the city. That beam of light then falls downward in a vertical slice. I assume it destroyed the demon, as the light transformed into something bigger. It even send me into someplace mysterious, all was temporarily white. I soon return back into reality, and all returned to normal. I pondered some moment later; and decided to head to Tribull Plaza. I was there, the huge mark and later the falling limbs. What happened immediately afterwards? I think you know the rest.”

“Indeed we saw a horrible scene, not the falling pieces of demon remains; but of the panic. Although, listen well Ignatius. I for certain did not experienced it the same way you did today. Something strange was at work for sure I believe. Is there anything else you wish to know?”

“Definitely, Alger. The demon, I want to hear about this phenomenal one.”

“That’s right, I knew about that demon alright. I regret to not have inform you of it much earlier, but never would I expect the unnatural happenings today which you experienced. From whom had told me? The very same man that gave away the existence of the Vigilance.”

“So that’s how you knew.”

“You are right. Though my intention at that time was only to grant you knowledge of those demon-slayers. Anyway, I met this mysterious one two weeks ago. A man with rose-coloured eyes.”

 

The meeting between Alger Havensworth and the stranger took place in one of the city’s alleyways. The colour of the man’s eyes were like roses, to not instil any romantic implications, he also possessed an almost feline pupils. As unnatural for an individual to be born with those eyes, this stranger wore a set of coloured sunglasses which gave a hazel impression normal to most people. Slim, yet muscular and unkempt in appearance, the stranger looked desperate to travel elsewhere, but to meet Alger was of great importance to him. The stranger never expressed his reasons; and only gave Alger various important info. It was sudden for Alger, however, he was quite composed and had accepted to hear the stranger out. This stranger was quick in his explanations, but detailed with the essentials. The existence of the monster-slaying organisation, and their oath of utmost secrecy was a knowledge passed down to Alger. The stranger never spoke of his own name, but promised to meet in future and another possible sudden visit, as this stranger disappeared off to an unmentioned destination. He also left a message before he departed, which shook even Alger with discomfort. In the stranger’s words, the name and its reputation was contaminated with malice and a great deal of horror. The final words:

 

“The Fallen Plague from history’s dark and horrible days, was never asleep,

                   Nor it was ever slain once.

Instead, Legion, for centuries had been human,

He was the child,

He was also the child’s parents,

But he also was a god, he too grants a life form to this world,

Our many historic heroes that served the good of the world,

Was in fact Legion, the Fallen Plague.

Influencing the strongest of individuals in power status,

Legion changed the natural balance of the world,

And created and replaced our true present time, with his own.

 

Though not all of the demonic beasts were his own,

Still many demonic spawn were his creations, the Plague.

While brutal and ferocious in nature,

They were but infants; and their maturity would call for a horrifying future.

Especially when some could take form of humans, animals and even trees.

 

Unpredictable in nature,

Few understood its purpose in this world,

To enslave humanity or to simply live among humanity?

So powerful yet he never released his plague among humanity long ago,

Instead, Legion chose our present time to attack.

 

We are retaliating soon, so stay home.”

 

The Fallen Plague. I repeat it inside my mind. Despite its demise, I feel completely uneasy regarding Legion’s history. But it is no more. So why should I still be afraid? Legion himself must have been controlling the majority of us humans for the entire time. It baffles me, yet I am fearful that another demon would replace him. I have a bucket list of questions for Alger, though I doubt he too can answer. “Replaced our true present time?” How insane.

          There is also another unsettling revelation that has come to my attention, which I hope Alger could shed some light into it. What I am referring to is the cause of my abnormal experiences at around three-thirty p.m., and how Legion dies in the end before the world returning to normal.

          “Ignatius?”

          Alger who is standing by the window, turn to face me. He already stop talking about his meeting two weeks ago with the stranger. Did I miss anything new from him?

          “Sorry Alger. What else were you saying?”

          “You listened to my entire conversation about Legion did you?”

          “And the stranger’s last words"is that right?”

          “You did listen. Sorry, it was me who’s daydreaming.”

          “Alger? I don’t understand. Is there anything else? If not, I want to ask you about something.”

          “What about, boy?”

          “Well, I am hoping you could tell me what happened to me this afternoon. And why me specifically?”

          “I can’t tell you anything I wouldn’t know, but. Maybe you were wondering how Legion died today?”

          Alger’s right. It is my intention of inquiring about that. So why did I not ask about it? I know it is not a matter of forgetfulness. I guess it simply slip through my mind.

          “Yeah, I was wondering what the demons-slayers used earlier today. If you know that much; I’d be impressed.”

          “It’s just a blade.”

          “Hmm? Could you say that again?”

          “A great-sword or something slightly smaller I think. Even one man is capable of handling it.”

          “Just a blade? Not a magical device, not a staff, not a tome?”

          “I thought you’d figured that out already Ignatius. C’mon, stop confusing me already.”

          “I wasn’t trying to. Well? What kind of a legend would that blade be from?”

          “It certainly isn’t famous to us humankind. They aren’t regarded as a weapon to be feared or a blade which the most evil would use. For centuries, you’ll find that almost nobody knew this blade had existed.”

          “So, not a legend?”

          “It’s just a blade passed down by family ancestry. All the way back to fifteenth century. Don’t really know the full history though.”

          “Breath-taking.”

          “It is. I knew about it just last week. I should tell you now that I had been busy following the Vigilance’s trail. A party was exploring a family tomb when they came out with the blade in hand. They left afterwards while I stayed.”

          “So the Vigilance raided somebody’s tomb for the blade? Was it laying for them to take?”

          “Oh no. Inside the tomb, there are inscriptions. When they left, the entrance was left opened, I went in there and found ancient graffiti and texts. I read only little; though I soon search for the resting place where the blade laid. When I got there, what stood out was a scroll; and sure enough"more pieces of history. The most important part of all in those text: only family members can wield the blade. So as you could guess, one of them is a member of the Vigilance.”

          “No wonder. A mighty power like that is now with the Vigilance.”

          “Yeah, they do not play around for sure. Makes anybody uneasy knowing that one day some underground organisation could wipe you clean from this world no problem.”

          “It’s for the greater good though, one less demon now. It is an exceptionally dangerous one after all.”

          “You’re right, although you need to remember that the Vigilance now possess a weapon of mass destruction.”

          “Why should they hurt us humans?”

          “Maybe they won’t. It would be a waste to them. A powerful weapon like that is perfect for something else entirely.”

          “I hope you know that I’m slightly confuse.”

          “You’re so slow Ignatius, oh well; there’s always time to improve, you’re young after all.”

          “Alger.”

          “Tell how does the monarch from ancient times operate in their kingdom?”

          “With power.”

          “With power, and right now; the Vigilance has a weapon equal to a thousand men. Imagine if our society may eventually be under their control.”

          “So is it a bad thing that they got the blade now?”

          “I’m hoping they might use it for good. But I have a sinking feeling that something like that could happen in a few years’ time.”

          “I suppose that could happen. Although, you just might be thinking about it too deeply.”

          “You think so Ignatius?”

          “Yeah, even if they not doing it for us, at least the Vigilance did clear up some places from the demons. Not even the police or any military operatives could fight against them.”

          “I know Ignatius, all they needed was someone with inhuman speed or a person with the toughest skin of defence to fix through the demons. The Vigilance; I suppose, is our saviour somewhat. Though I feel as if needing to be cautious mostly because of that stranger.”

          “Who told you about the Vigilance and Legion?”

          “Yes, he left before I start asking question. Lucky for him I guess, I talk too much sometimes. Heh-heh.”

          Alger rambles at occasion too. He strays from the topic and may even begin talking about something completely different too. I should interrupt.

          “Alger, the stranger’s words, what was that bothered you?”

          “Well, for one I wondered why he chose me of all people. Secondly is why was he willing to share the information. That’s all.”

          “I see.”

          “I hope that answered your question, because that is all I have Ignatius. It is getting late after all, go call room service for dinner.”

          Well, it is nearly dinnertime. I am not hungry though since my appetite is gone because of what happen in Tribull Plaza. Talking to Alger has been certainly educational. I learn a lot today, though I wonder sometimes if it is too much for my own good. However, there is one thing. No, truthfully there has been a lot of questionable things. I think too much has occur for one day to interpret quickly. There are some particular questions which I believe Alger fail to mention.

“You forgotten about one thing Alger.”

          “What is it?”

          “About Tribull Plaza. The falling limbs of Legion’s remains, the blood.”

          “That my boy; I got no clue.”

          “I see. And the blade?”

          “Your memory’s failing on you Ignatius.”

          “I wanted to ask you the name of that blade. If you do know of it.”

          “Ah, I did not mention its name, we’ve been calling it the ‘blade’.”

          Alger closes his eyes for a second; recalling the name.

          “The blade of Veruss. Named after a family which existed for centuries. In translation according to texts from the tombs, ‘True Power’.”

         

          It is nine-thirty. Alger has gone home after dinner here in the apartment. I sit on the side of my bed trying to cool off after a bath. Isaac Reagan, whom I call Master, has yet to come home. I would not know where he currently is; as he never tells me of his whereabouts. His notes before leaving home are usually written as: “Will be late.”

          I am forcing my eyes to stay awake consciously. At least until my hair is dry enough. Today has been eventful. I especially wish to forget all about Tribull Plaza, but I would not stop thinking about the explosion which kills Legion.

          The blade of Veruss. I wonder what purpose they have in this world. What they are trying to achieve with a weapon of that might. I could sense that there is little history of the blade of Veruss. In my mind, the blade is nothing more than a relict which is being passed down to the many, many descendants of the Veruss family. Today must have been the most significant of all. The ‘true power’ of that blade courses through from a small ball of light, and into a more devastating explosive power that kills a greater demon with one swing.

          Now all that remain is unanswered questions. I know for fact that no one else, other than me, seen the power that the blade could do. After Legion, the Fallen Plague dies, the entire city returns to normal. It is as if the blade has sent me off to a different dimension, a different time, into its own little alternate world. That is all I can think, otherwise, I might call myself crazy and a little too imaginative. Thanks to Alger though, since he truly believes my story, I do not have to question my own sanity.

          Yawn.

          As Master Reagan’s personal assistant, he would expect I wake up every morning at eight. There are days when we may end our day early, as early as in the afternoon. By lunchtime, I may be at the apartment eating and watching television shows. It all depends really. Though I am not as enthusiastic as Master Regan who would dismiss me and wander off somewhere; looking for potential clients.

          But according to my schedule for the morrow; I should be quite busy. There is another client being accuse of murdering a man, tearing him up to pieces"literally. It has been a reoccurring theme for some months now, accusations. Many nobles; all accuse by ex-associates or some commoners to be demons in disguise who murder the innocent. This time I bet is the same as always, either the accuser is the killer or it is actually demons who did the killings. In the end of the courtroom trials, Master Reagan would generally come out victorious and our defendant; happy.

          Master Reagan is a successful defence lawyer after all. Thanks to those years of experience, I now live in an extravagant apartment which the luxury of great house services. As his assistant, I will do a lot to not disappoint him in any way.

          I pull out the thick and warm blanket so I could lay inside. That hit the spot. I could feel a slight rush of cold through my body for a second. Now comes warmth. When it comes to the season, I prefer the winter; at least it is easier to manage than summer. All you ever do is wear thick clothing. In the summer, not many are lucky to be able to afford to have the air-conditioner switch on for long periods of time. You either go outside, then get sweaty as you try heading indoors at the shopping centre or the grocery store. Summer in the city of Royalrose can get dreadful sometimes. Up to a hundred and four Fahrenheit like today. Summer is also usually the period when I stay home, away from the blazing heat. Luckily for myself, I now get the services of air-conditioning; set to about sixty-four point four Fahrenheit. If they remain to be broken; I could have gone mad.

          I rest my head on top of the pillow and my entire body sinks further inside the blanket. I reach my left arm to the switch of the table lamps. Off. I shut my eyes immediately, trying to not think of today’s event.

          “Ah ha ha ha!”

          I suddenly hear the voice of a man who takes pleasure in somebody’s misery. Once he wins, he strikes at the loser with everything he has got.

          “Got Yuger’s b*****d finally!”

           What is he up to? I could hear him clearly even if he is in the living room.

          “He’s got no worth if he has no money! I would enjoy if I could see that ugly face of his one more time!”

          At this rate, I feel that it is impossible to start sleeping. Though I suppose I could wait for a little longer.

          “I wonder if he’ll be up for another game next time. If he is, I’ll be sure to be there!”

          He is not stopping. Oh fine. I think it is this moment the assistant should intervene and calm the master down. I get off my bed immediately, feeling a little chill from the air-conditioned room. I unlock the bedroom door and begin walking into the living room. I hope it would not take long talking him down. He is the sort of person who listens to himself more than others. As I am closer to the living room, I hear the thumping of his foot as loud as his vocal celebration. I can only imagine our neighbours knocking on the front door by now. Though he sees me approaching, he continues moving around as if I am invisible.

          “Master Reagan?”

          “Rejoice, Ignatius! I have won.”

          What he is referring to is winning in a game of chess. Master Reagan hates chess if I recall him saying that. He chooses only to play because he absolutely despises to lose or to refuse a challenge. Whether it be golf, a game of cards; the many noblemen would call him out to play, and he accepts it without a thought.

          “In a game of chess? Or is it a different game?”

          “Chess it is Ignatius, you guessed it right the first time!”

          “Who is it did you win against?”

          “Do you remember Yuger? Coffee lover and the one who wears a hairclip made with roses?”

          “I remember.”

          “And his son, the blob!”

          “I recall.”

          “He cashes in all of his own allowance from his old man Yuger into a game of chess!”

          “Ah I see, you won and the money is yours now.”

          “That’s right. ‘You hog-humping, self-centred, cow mug cheater’, he said; Hah!”

          “You did great Master. Although…”

          “Hm. What is it dear boy?”

          “You were pretty loud just now.”

          “Obviously, that was on purpose!”

          I am happy Master Reagan is aware of his loud voice; but I wish he is a little more considerate.

          “Master Reagan, I was about to sleep.”

          “Sleep? At nine-forty?”

          “Today did a number on me.”

          “What are you talking about? Did the heat get to you? Ah hang on. We have air-conditioning, so I’m sure you have been staying at home all day!”

          “The air-conditioning was broken.”

          “Really now? Ah no wonder then.”

          “So you understand right? It is best if your assistant could get a goodnight’s sleep.”

          “Have you ate?”

          “Of course.”

          “Well, I have not! So please call room service and make sure they get dinner here by five minutes. I am going to go take the greatest bath! Oh joy!”

          Master Reagan walks off to the bathroom; humming away. I suppose I should make that phone call now. Five minutes? He is being ridiculous. But I suppose him being a little joyful could not hurt. Never have I seen him happy most of the time. Though his behaviour changes whenever his happy, acting almost like a child. Today is one of those moments, right now I wish Alger is here. At least he would put Master Reagan in a sour mood, when he stays quiet for the rest of the night. It would not be nice of course, but it is all for my benefit. I dial the number for room service.

          “Mister Reagan?”

          “No, it’s his assistant. He’ll want some Spaghetti Bolognese, in five minutes he said.”

          “I…see…typical.”

          The phone call ends. I already know what kind of meal he prefer for dinnertime. I have been living with him for a long time now. But still, I cannot get mad at him for ordering me around like that. He never once abuse me physically nor ever insult me. I always will remember that it is him who took him in from the orphanage.

          I start walking back to the bedroom. From here, I could hear Master Reagan singing from his bathroom. His singing is not too bad though, but I may not be able to sleep soundly. I put myself back to bed and rest my head over the pillow; looking at the ceiling.

          I close my eyes to sleep, this time I will ignore any potential interruptions. I try to conceal anymore noises with a pillow from my far right. I could feel my consciousness already fading. Today must have been really exhausting. Usually it would typically take two hours for me to sleep, but tonight the mind is too tired thinking about anything.

          I am eager to see what the future days will show. The Vigilance has made their own presence felt for the first time today. I witness it and I wonder if something like that might happen again. I am also thinking about the blade of Veruss, what it looks like, what the hilt feels like when controlling a blade with the mightiest power. I continue to lose myself, my eyes now refuse to open; and my ears hearing very little now.

Author's Note

Do you find the story interesting? Is the character rambling a lot? Do you find present tense writing to be sloppy or annoying? Do you find that you need to translate the writing into English that you understand? What should I add into my writing next time?