Chapter I
Chapter I
Remy Bodach has always been a colossal bitch, even on the best of days. Her mood was progressively getting worse by the second. Seated in the corner booth of a café, she was looking for a moment of silence that still eludes her. At the bar a group of noisy college kids holler and yowl over a game of football. Remy clenches her fist, imagining the confrontation, a simple suggestion of keeping it down wouldn't suffice. She entertains speaking to them in the tongue she was more fluent in, brutal and overwhelming violence. Fortunately for the young group of adults, Remy loses her train of thought from the waiter pestering her.
"Mhm, yes ma'am I know that look Remy." The small dainty waitress took her by surprise, snapping Remy out of her fantasy land of violence and mayhem.
"That's the trademark 'Bodach-Wholesale Whoop-Ass' look you get before a fight. Not today Remy, please, my shift is going to be over soon. I don't want to stay late cleaning up a mess." The waitresses word's do not fall on deaf ears, Remy tries to switch gears and slows her breathing but to no avail.
"Just get me a coffee please." Remy remarks coldly trying to reign in her anger. Her boiling point danced precariously about the point of no return. The young group grabbed the remote and switched the channel to that of local coverage of a motorsports event, at maximum volume no less. The harsh piercing noise of straight cut gears whining and exhaust firing like machine guns echo through the café.
"He's going flat-out into a fatal chicane!" the t.v. blares through the small city diner annoying the other two patrons tucked away unfortunately seated right below the noise source. Her teeth grinding in her head while her usually brown eyes turn into a glowing shade of a dark crimson. With deep breaths she stares into the direction of the kids but realizes the other two patrons silently observing her.
Two men undoubtedly out of place wearing designer suits in a college café. Their gaze alternates between Remy and a blind man fumbling around for condiments mid meal. Without thinking she registers the two suits as threats. With a dull thud, a butter knife and fork lodges itself deep into their head. Coming to rest, embedded up to the handle in each respective forehead. Remy quickly blinks the glow away from her eyes and hurriedly makes her exit. Leaving a generous tip behind for the waitress that didn't want any commotion on her shift. She is by no means a stranger to death and violence but she isn't keen on sticking around when fresh corpses are discovered.
Making her way out the door, with a brief look over her shoulder she glances at her handiwork. All the attention is on the group of kids and spots a homeless looking man leaving the restroom and making his way to the two fresh corpses. Their eyes meet momentarily as she crosses the threshold of the door; realizing she should have waited, Remy scolds herself for being impatient and makes a vain attempt at blending into the bustling street.
She pays no attention to the commotion starting to unfold in her wake. Periodically glancing over her shoulder to see if she is being tailed by the man from the café.
With a brisk pace she slips through the busy hustle and bustle of the city streets. Periodically looking over her shoulder trying to catch a glimpse of a trail. Calming herself down with the belief that nobody in their right mind would pursue someone after a murder. Anyone stable would without a doubt be distraught attempting to resuscitate their companions. Causing a panic and uproar demanding medical aid and ambulances, there's no way she could possibly be followed, she concludes.
Remy's anger placated from her most recent outburst of violence, her temper begins to subside. And the face once twisted into a gnarled visage of rage gives way and is buried below her facial facade of apathy. Getting caught is no longer a worry in her mind, escaping and alluding local law enforcement isn't a challenge but it's just a hassle she would rather avoid. Retracing her thoughts for the day she makes her way through the crowded streets trying to grasp the train of thought that has been replaced with the memory of the screaming engines and screech tires of the t.v.
Blending into the crowd wasn't too hard for Remy Bodach, her attire giving no clues about her personality or social status. Her auburn hair flowed down past an oversized charcoal pea coat, concealing her eyes and average feminine face, her face a totally forgettable one. Her favorite feature of herself, not too beautiful, not too ugly, entirely forgettable but still easy on the eyes. perfect for slipping away without drawing attention. The lower portion of her face concealed with the collar turned to break the cold winter air. The only remarkable thing about her being her black slacks tucked into an equally dark worn pair of boots.
Offhandedly she noticed a peculiar item in one of the shop windows that captivated her attention. As if deja vu or a memento from a previous life her eyes come to rest on a simple brown leather book. She felt a familiar sensation drawing her to it, an object of power she thought. She wasn't blessed with a full suite of ocular powers but she knew something occult when she saw it. She could feel the minor distortions of energy and waves emanating from the book. She could feel the desire, the very emotions of the one author who etched their words into the book. The early mornings and late nights, she could feel the very essence of the owner, a very powerful one at that to leave beyond such a thing.
Thoughts run through her head about how powerful the owner had to be, thoughts and daydreams of if she could beat the person into submission. She knew it was a daydream, for her at a very intimidating height of hardly five feet, she didn't have a frame built for hand to hand combat. Regardless of how much she augmented her stature with spiritual energy it would be a landslide of a loss. The only one who might stand a chance, she theorizes being her brother. As if on cue she spots the man from the diner in the window reflection. In a hurry making a mental note of the location of the book shop, Moorland's. On edge and watching his movements from the reflection she can tell he's observing her.
Remy halts in her train of thought, pondering what it could mean; her mind jumping to the worst possible conclusion is the usual train of thought.
"Play it off that you haven't noticed him. Just pretend to be window shopping and stroll along." Remy does a decent job at reigning in her thoughts, her quick thinking being the only saving grace in a situation like this. Running isn't an option, his stride would be at least triple to hers, blending into the crowd won't work either, she's too short to see a good path. The only viable option she comes to is drawing him into a trap, or losing him by ducking into an alleyway or a shop.
She crosses off the shop idea, the closed space would be to her disadvantage and her blood runs cold as she realizes the only way out would be a fist fight. Why, is the burning question in her mind. Why is the man following her in the first place? Still walking down the packed street she checks in the various windows and car side mirrors for the presence of being trailed. Her tension mounts as she catches a glimpse of him, obviously he's trained at tailing and isn't going to be an easy target to shake. The idea of why still assaulting her mind, if it was a gang member he would have shot her by now. If he was law enforcement he should have made his move long ago.
He doesn't want to cause a scene more than she does, he must want to end it quickly and as little hassle as possible. He must be a professional, but a professional of what occupation exactly. Adrenaline floods her system upon her realization she must have just killed two of the investigators that were following her most recent crime spree. Breaking into a brisk walking pace down the crowded pedestrian street, With no hesitation she puts together a plan to send this poor soul on a one way trip to join his acquaintances. Briefly stopping for a moment to confirm her course of action, From a dead stop she bolts down the street and tucks into an abandoned alley, her plan being to lure the poor soul to his unwitting demise. Pressed against the cobble brick wall behind a dumpster she waits patiently hearing the pitter patter of shoes clacking against cobblestone. Her eyes once more shimmer into a dark crimson and she anticipates the man crossing the point of no return. Heart pumping and surging blood, she feels the warmth as she prepares herself.
Numerous thoughts cross her mind as she crouches in wait. The seconds feel like hours. The wait caused her to feel paranoid that she might have been overacting. The notion was swiftly put out of mind as she heard the approach of footsteps. Her blood runs cold at the sudden stop, could he have spotted her? Could he know what she planned? He came this far so he couldn't possibly be dumb enough to fall for an obvious trap, she reprimands herself. She rests her head against the dumpster and begins praying silently to herself. The worst thing that can happen is the man performing a recon by fire. The thin flimsy plastic dumpster won't save her from any sort of firearm he is assuredly carrying.
Remy silently resigns herself to fate. To die like a fool in a dirty city alley until the unexpected occurs. The sound of slow cautious footsteps. Someone coming closer, her thoughts quickly shifting gears. She knows that she can turn the situation around. Chiding herself on the thought that someone would fire a gun, when they went through all this effort to be stealthy in a busy city now is found humorous. Remy's distorted thinking is in full force working its way to the apex, preparing for violence. Unknown to the mystery assailant approaching, he was fast coming to a very bad end. Remy sat tucked away as the footsteps grew louder and louder, the moment his foot crossed the threshold she pounced into action.
Lunging out from behind the dumpster revealing a blade in her hand, she attempts to stab the poor man in the center of his forehead. Reacting like lightning the man shields himself with his palm, the blade piercing to the hilt. For a split-second a smile shoots across Remy's face knowing her opening attack put her in such an advantageous position.
Instinctively something felt off. In all other lives she took, when she pierced flesh with her blades she could always feel the terror of her prey. There was no terror, if anything she felt aggression and she quickly assessed why she felt cornered even though she got the jump on the man. As if rehearsed, the man pressed his hand into the hilt overlaying his fist over her's and folded her arm back. Sending a thunderous elbow towards her temple.
With no time to react or protect herself, she braced herself for the blow. Remy simply accepted what was about to transpire. She simply shut her eyes and braced herself at the sight of fluttering fabric. The darkness or her shut eyes was pierced by a searing hot blinding white light.
Momentarily knocked unconscious she quickly came back and reassessed the situation, she didn't recall falling or hitting her head so she assumed she wasn't floored by the strike. However, given the current situation at hand, her legs were definitely weaker than wet noodles at the moment. Her teeth clenched shut, she timidly opened her eyes to see her surroundings. Surprise washed over her when she saw a small blue dot suspended in the black void. Thoughts of how she got here cut short, interrupted by a familiar voice catching her off guard.
Her footing was slipping on the loose gravel surface of the Moon as she faced the direction of the voice. The source of the voice was seated on the rim of the crater that Remy was standing in. The blind man from the café sat quietly on the rim as a devilish grin spread across his face. His seeing eye-dog nowhere in sight.
"It must be bad if you're here in this place of all places.".Remy, stricken with agitation at the circumstances does her best to ignore the man, teasing her as she claws and squirms her out of the crater. Her patience long since gone she snaps back at the man.
"Are you going to help or are you just going to stay on the sidelines?" The man's expression changes upon hearing her harsh words.
"Of course I'll help, what kind of sibling would I be if I just left my twin sister on her own?" Remy's mood quickly changes, punctuated by her own devilish grin. She extends her hand and with a firm clasp she grabs her brother's hand. Just as fast as they arrived, they vanish from the lunar landscape in a brilliant white flash of white