- Invitation Status
- Genres
- Scifi, some fantasy, Mature. Anything that gets my gears going. Not opposed to Yaoi or Yuri.
In a small suburban neighborhood all was quiet for the night. Everyone was sleeping, save for one house that was having the neighbors over for drinks. At the rate they were having fun things would turn awkward in the morning. Wives would be swapped, and stories both sides agreed to never speak of again would be written. The only thing that could save them from embarrassment was a great commotion that roused the whole street, something loud and unconventionally violent in this peaceful patch of the tame world. Fortunately for them, that was just what they were about to get.
Across the street, four houses down, Harvey Lyden burst through his front door and toppled onto the pavement path in front of it. He had only a second to catch his breath before he lunged for his open door. Balls of light shot out at him as he heaved his weight on the door, slamming it shut. If anyone had already begun looking, they would have noticed that Harvey's door had opened outward. But when he turned his key into the lock and slipped inside, it opened inward.
Inside his house, Harvey twisted the lock past its final position. Two metal bars appeared on either side of the handle and jammed themselves in the doorway. Then two more, and so on until the entire door was locked up tight.
"Light..." he panted. He pulled out a lighter and clicked it. New orbs of light shot out from it and went to all nearby lamps, illuminating them. Now his split lip and the blood running down the side of his face was clearer to see. But he didn't have time to nurse his wounds.
He limped over to his pantry and turned the key. The door was thrown open and the sound and force of rushing wind shook everything in the house. Harvey braced himself against the doorway and looked out. He could see city lights about 8 miles beneath him, and to his right the wing of an airplane. From his pocket he pulled out a handful of keys, then threw them out over the city. They flew past him and out of sight. He then had to lean out into the open air to get his rickety, wooden door and shut it again. And just as he did he heard car doors outside.
He limped back into the dining room and grabbed a silver candelabra. As soon as his hands wrapped around it the silver bent and curled so the three candleholders were on top of one another.
A blade shot through the wood around the many locks and opened, being pulled back and anchored in place. It started travelling up, jerking like someone was pulling at it. It then went over and back down, a string of light attached to the hook slicing a neat line around the doorway. In one swift push the door and its holster were thrown aside, and Harvey started firing. Bolts of fire burned and tore into a man who came charging through. He dropped at Harvey's feet. But then a black mist exploded out of the doorway and his blasts couldn't penetrate it. It spread and spread until he couldn't see a thing.
The next thing he knew there was a sharp pain across his wrist and he was forced to drop the candelabra. Then he felt himself harshly kicked into the back wall with a knee to the gut to add to it. As he dropped to the floor the mist receded into a slit of blackness, which then turned into the shaft of a cane.
Standing over him was a man in his late thirties. He looked good for his age; clean shaven, combed, dark hair, smart glasses with copper frames. He had this chiding smile on his face, like he'd caught a kid doing something he shouldn't and found it amusing.
"Hello, Harvey," he said.
"Simon," he spat back, getting blood on the pants of Simon's grey suit. "Get it over with. I already got rid of the keys. They'll find new Locks by tomorrow." He smirked. "Kill me, and eight more'll take my place."
"Eight novices with no understanding of what they are or what they're doing," Simon retorted. He sighed and shook his head. "If I can't talk them down, all you've assured is that eight previously innocent people will die. This is what I'm talking about, Harvey. You think you're helping, but you're just making things worse."
"Can't be worse than what you've got planned. There's a reason you're not a Force, you know."
"I do." Simon's cane thinned until it resembled a sword, and then he swiftly stabbed Harvey through the heart. "But I can fix that."
Three more men came in. The one with the glowing whip kept looking up and down the street as lights came on all over the place. "We'll need to leave soon. How are we supposed to get those keys first?"
He pulled the blade free and proceeded to casually clean it with a red handkerchief. "We won't find the keys, but don't worry, Mr. Finch. When Order issues his standard reset, we'll be able to find the new bearers."
Across the street, four houses down, Harvey Lyden burst through his front door and toppled onto the pavement path in front of it. He had only a second to catch his breath before he lunged for his open door. Balls of light shot out at him as he heaved his weight on the door, slamming it shut. If anyone had already begun looking, they would have noticed that Harvey's door had opened outward. But when he turned his key into the lock and slipped inside, it opened inward.
Inside his house, Harvey twisted the lock past its final position. Two metal bars appeared on either side of the handle and jammed themselves in the doorway. Then two more, and so on until the entire door was locked up tight.
"Light..." he panted. He pulled out a lighter and clicked it. New orbs of light shot out from it and went to all nearby lamps, illuminating them. Now his split lip and the blood running down the side of his face was clearer to see. But he didn't have time to nurse his wounds.
He limped over to his pantry and turned the key. The door was thrown open and the sound and force of rushing wind shook everything in the house. Harvey braced himself against the doorway and looked out. He could see city lights about 8 miles beneath him, and to his right the wing of an airplane. From his pocket he pulled out a handful of keys, then threw them out over the city. They flew past him and out of sight. He then had to lean out into the open air to get his rickety, wooden door and shut it again. And just as he did he heard car doors outside.
He limped back into the dining room and grabbed a silver candelabra. As soon as his hands wrapped around it the silver bent and curled so the three candleholders were on top of one another.
A blade shot through the wood around the many locks and opened, being pulled back and anchored in place. It started travelling up, jerking like someone was pulling at it. It then went over and back down, a string of light attached to the hook slicing a neat line around the doorway. In one swift push the door and its holster were thrown aside, and Harvey started firing. Bolts of fire burned and tore into a man who came charging through. He dropped at Harvey's feet. But then a black mist exploded out of the doorway and his blasts couldn't penetrate it. It spread and spread until he couldn't see a thing.
The next thing he knew there was a sharp pain across his wrist and he was forced to drop the candelabra. Then he felt himself harshly kicked into the back wall with a knee to the gut to add to it. As he dropped to the floor the mist receded into a slit of blackness, which then turned into the shaft of a cane.
Standing over him was a man in his late thirties. He looked good for his age; clean shaven, combed, dark hair, smart glasses with copper frames. He had this chiding smile on his face, like he'd caught a kid doing something he shouldn't and found it amusing.
"Hello, Harvey," he said.
"Simon," he spat back, getting blood on the pants of Simon's grey suit. "Get it over with. I already got rid of the keys. They'll find new Locks by tomorrow." He smirked. "Kill me, and eight more'll take my place."
"Eight novices with no understanding of what they are or what they're doing," Simon retorted. He sighed and shook his head. "If I can't talk them down, all you've assured is that eight previously innocent people will die. This is what I'm talking about, Harvey. You think you're helping, but you're just making things worse."
"Can't be worse than what you've got planned. There's a reason you're not a Force, you know."
"I do." Simon's cane thinned until it resembled a sword, and then he swiftly stabbed Harvey through the heart. "But I can fix that."
Three more men came in. The one with the glowing whip kept looking up and down the street as lights came on all over the place. "We'll need to leave soon. How are we supposed to get those keys first?"
He pulled the blade free and proceeded to casually clean it with a red handkerchief. "We won't find the keys, but don't worry, Mr. Finch. When Order issues his standard reset, we'll be able to find the new bearers."