The roar of jet engines were drowned out by the walls and the rapid footsteps that made up the San Francisco International Airport. The masses hurriedly headed for their terminals, eager to get a taste of that sweet Christmas vacation time. Everyone except for Bonafacio Bourbon. He was actually just trying to get home for his vacation was already well-spent in San Francisco.
Bonafacio was a sixteen-year-old boy of average height and slim build. He had golden hair of moderate length tied back into a laid back ponytail and wore a brilliant two-piece suit with a striped coat tail and a multitude of fine features, including button-shaped emblems on the collars and a hexagon-shaped opening in the chest area. And last but not least, the most distinctive feature on his suit were the three Celtic knots located on either side of his chest and directly below his zipper, which symbolized the sacred geometry of the universe and the interconnectedness of all life in the universe.
Bonafacio strode alongside the crowd that he lagged behind, not really in any hurry to get to his destination. His ride wasn't going to get here in at least another five minutes, give or take. He took this time to admire the spectacular view outside the window-pane. The way the horizon presented itself, how the birds chirped past, all of this was calming to the boy's nerves. He couldn't help but to smile. Bonafacio loved nature and wouldn't dare throw that love away. It was one of the few things he had left.
His attention swayed elsewhere when he heard something spill and a woman by a row of seats yell, "Not again! I'll be late for my flight at this rate!"
Bonafacio came over to assist and, upon closer inspection, saw that what had fallen were travel books, accessories and the like. Judging from the open zipper on the luggage the woman was carrying, that's probably where it all originated from.
"Allow me." The boy bent down and began picking up the items.
"Thank you. How nice of you to do this for me." The lady replied, as she too started packing the objects into their proper spots.
All of the sudden, a man swooped in from behind Bonafacio and pickpocketed the kid of his wallet before waltzing off. Bonafacio missed this entirely, currently preoccupied with his good deed for the day.
Bonafacio only noticed the theft after he finished helping the woman with her belongings. He felt around his trousers, not being able to discern where his wallet was. He scanned around the place frantically, his eyes eventually landing on his wallet, which was currently being shoved into the back pocket of the thief. He rose up and pursued the man, right as the woman that Bonafacio assisted strolled away with her bags.
"Dumb child. Don't trust strangers." The girl chuckled to herself, disappearing as she went against the wave of people walking in.
He was set up! The gall that bait must've had! Bonafacio could hardly believe it himself that the lady was in on it. However, this wasn't really a problem. Everything was according to plan. He expected something like this to happen and he prepared for it with the right precautions.
The thief jerked his hand away from his back pocket and stopped in his tracks, glaring directly at the palm of his hand after feeling some wet substance on its surface. It was some strange liquid causing the feeling, and it smelled like absolute crap. It smelled as bad as rotten garlic and onions.
"What the--" the thief shielded his face to block out the awful aroma and spat a few curse words before taking a close a look at his back pocket. A small creature popped out and it leapt onto the tile floor, revealing itself fully while also accidentally pushing out a wad of cash that the criminal owned. It was a skunk. A baby skunk, to be precise. What in the world was that doing in there? That's exactly what the thief wanted to know. "What kind of tomfoolery?!"
Bonafacio seized this moment as an opportunity to swipe the lump of dollar bills away, and he was successful in his little crusade. He performed a two-finger salute before taking his leave, "Ciao!"
A minute later and the golden-haired boy came to a halt. He glanced over his shoulder, not spotting the thief or his associate. Bonafacio was in the clear. That wallet he had that was stolen wasn't his real wallet. The real one was already on a conveyor belt ready to get transported onto an airplane. The fake actually used to be a skunk, which explains the transformation. But how? How did the skunk become something... non-living? And how did it become living again? This was the secret of Bonafacio's ability. He muttered, "I guess even in airports you aren't safe from pickpockets. I suppose it's a good thing I found that skunk prowling around my hotel room yesterday. It came in handy."
Flipping through the bills, he counted, "Twenty, forty, sixty, eighty. Eighty, huh? Not a bad grab. I'm sure he won't be missing this. Besides, it's probably not even his to begin with. Now where to--"
"I beg your pardon," somebody next to Bonafacio interrupted the boy. It was a grown man, although his identity was difficult to disclose because the fedora he bore covered his pair of eyes. "Could I have a moment of your time?"
Bonafacio quickly peeked towards the glass, not spotting his flight anywhere. He decided it was best to continue the conversation since there was still no rush, "Go ahead."
"Things are rather tough for me, you see," the other leaned back against the closest wall and folded his arms across his chest, his gaze on the ground. "I've got a lot to deal with right now and I'd rather not want to stress myself out more than I should. I'm going to make you a deal, okay? Everyone benefits from this. Everyone goes home happy. Trust me."
He dug his hand into the inside flap of his trenchcoat and yanked out a fat stack of greenbacks. He waved this thing of temptation back and forth in front of Bonafacio's face. "I'm willing to give all of this to you in exchange for a service. Don't worry, the service doesn't require much effort. You just gotta lug something around."
Bonafacio swallowed hard at the sight of the huge amount of money hovering just inches away. He wasn't living in poverty, but he definitely didn't have great financial stability either. He needed a little extra to support his lifestyle. Bonafacio gave in, "And what exactly would I be bringing with me?"
"This," the mysterious man reached into his coat again and this time retrieved a package small enough to fit in someone's hand. It was wrapped in Christmas wrapping paper.
"There's nothing inside this. See?" He shook it a tad and no noise was emitted. "Nothing at all."
"Why pay me so much to carry around a practically empty box?"
"That's not important, kid. I'm not paying you to ask questions. Just answer me. Are you willing to do this?"
This whole deal seemed extremely sketchy but money is money. Bonafacio gently took the cash and the package away from the other person, placing the bills in his pocket while holding onto the wrapped present.
"I'll take that as a yes. Pleasure doin' business with ya, pal." The man departed and joined the masses.
"He's insane," Bonafacio mumbled once he knew that the informant was completely gone from view. "There must have been a couple thousand in that stack he handed to me, and yet that was only for me to lift an empty container? Easiest money I've ever made. Problem is, he never specified how long I should keep this. Maybe I'll toss it into the trash once I get to my apartment in Los Angeles."
He proceeded to mosey on over to his terminal, thinking his plane might get here in a minute or two.
An elderly woman inserting coins into a vending machine is what grabbed Bonafacio's focus next. The woman was hunched over, a wobbly cane in one hand and quarters in the other. After putting all of the coins in there, she pressed a few buttons on the panel and waited for her bottle of water to arrive in the compartment. But it never did.
"That's odd," she croaked. "I thought I had enough."
Bonafacio's heart ached at the sight of this predicament, and so he approached the elder and offered, "I'll take care of the difference."
"Here," he retrieved twenty dollars from his pocket and slid it into the machine's slot before typing in the same pattern the woman used to try and get the bottled water. Within a few seconds, the plastic bottle dropped into the lower compartment with a thud. Bonafacio took hold of it and the change, handing it over to the woman.
"Also, you can take this." Fishing his hand into his pocket once more, the boy extended a dozen one hundred-dollar bills out to the other. "I'm positive you'll need it."
"I don't know if I should."
"Please, I insist."
"The water bottle is enough."
"For now, yes. But what about later? It doesn't appear to me that you're well-off."
"Well, all right." She was a bit hesitant but took the money anyways since Bonafacio was so persistent. "How much is this? I can't quite see. Old age is wearing me down. Are these singles? They better be because I don't want you spending too much on this old crone."
"Of course," Bonafacio lied, obviously for the right reason.
"Thank you. You don't know how much this means to me, young man." The elder went for an embrace, and Bonafacio received it with grace. "I ran a business back in the day, though it went downhill when I couldn't afford to pay the bills, the property tax, and all of that. My children left me and my husband died on the battlefield. The only family I have left are my two grandsons. So I tell you again, young man, thank you."
After pulling away, she softly set a hand on Bonafacio's cheek. "You're doing great things. God is smiling down on you. I want you to continue living an honest and glamorous life, you hear? It's what you deserve."
Bonafacio could hardly hold back a tear, yet he managed. He beamed, "No problem. Take care."
The elderly woman patted the kid's shoulder and then said her goodbyes as she sauntered off into the distance.
"The 11AM flight to Los Angeles is almost underway. The passenger jet has just landed. Please proceed to the ramp now if this is your flight." A feminine voice on the intercom stated.
Bonafacio watched as multiple people lined up at the terminal to get their tickets checked. The line was rather lengthy, so he believed he could utilize whatever time was left to take a leak. It wasn't long before Bonafacio realized he was standing right beside a restroom.
A minute later and he was done with his business in the stall, vigorously scrubbing his hands with soap over the sink. When he started rinsing his hands with water, Bonafacio caught somebody staring directly at him through the corner of the mirror.
It wasn't the thief. It wasn't the informant. Not the bait or the elderly woman. It was someone else entirely. It was someone who was a mid-sized man with a lean build, looking to be in his early twenties. In addition to possessing black chin-length hair that was pulled back to create a man bun hairstyle, he also adorned a white two-buttoned jacket plus a matching pull-over and a striped shirt underneath, complete with white dress pants and maroon loafers. Leaning against ivory walls, the newcomer turned away as soon as Bonafacio made eye contact.
The sixteen-year-old swiftly snatched the package he set on the edge of the sink earlier and exited the room, peering behind him every so often.
"Who was that?" He murmured to himself. "And what was all that about? It looked to me like he was bent on stalking me or..."
Bonafacio gandered at the wrapped present. "...this box. Maybe there really is something inside this thing. What could that guy possibly want from it?"
The storm of footsteps wasn't so apparent anymore. They had all halted in this terminal due to the vast majority all waiting in line. With that being said, it was so much easier for Bonafacio to note that there was someone following him just by the sound of their footsteps. Bonafacio didn't even look back this time around, instead making a beeline for the entrance to the ramp. He brushed past numerous people and skipped the line but didn't forget to slam the ticket in one of the attendant's hands. He could hear the customers he passed voice their disgust for the situation.
However, Bonafacio continued to trek onward, not caring for the comments. He just had to escape his stalker's clutches! Sliding down to a stop, the kid got curious and glanced back, spotting the stalker being rejected by the attendants, not allowing him to be on this flight.
"Thank God," Bonafacio huffed. "I assumed he didn't purchase a ticket for this ride. It looks like my assumption was correct. He most likely didn't even plan on going airborne in the first place, he probably only wants the empty package. But why? Doesn't make any sense to chase such a thing."
He shook his head before resuming his ascension on the ramp. Bonafacio eventually made it to the cabin of the airplane and seated himself somewhere in economy class, taking the chair by the window. Separated by several yards of open space and two layers of glass, he saw the stalker in the terminal walking off.
Bonafacio gave a sigh of relief as he rested his head on the headrest and was lulled to sleep. His eyelids grew heavier by the second, and the passengers' voices steadily became inaudible. In no time he fell into a deep slumber and dreamt in this vulnerable state...
"Mom!" a child called out.
"I know, honey. I know it hurts but bear with me. We'll get out of here before you know it." replied the mother.
The duo were sprinting for their lives through the dense woodland, short of breath but still pushed forward regardless. Branches, bushes, rocks, whatever the typical woods could throw at them came their way, but they brushed it off like it was nothing. The Bourbon bloodline were full of strong, hardy people.
"Mom, I can barely feel my feet! Where are we going? Why are we going away from home? Who were those men at the front door?" The child asked those series of questions, checking whatever was tailing them in the meantime, seeing nothing but darkness in the grass.
"Now is not the time, honey. Just know that I'm sorry. I'm sorry for letting this happen. If only I hadn't gotten us tangled in a cycle of enormous debt..." The mom trailed off, trying to fight back the emotional tears.
"What about Dad? Isn't he still in the house? We should go back for him!"
"We can't, honey. I'm so sorry, but we can't. He's buying us time. He volunteered."
"No! That doesn't matter! We have to go back now! Dad needs us!" The child protested, determined to save his father.
"I--" the mother let out a scream when she was suddenly tackled to the ground from seemingly out of nowhere. It was as if somebody was just lying in wait. She attempted to free herself from the firm grasp but to no avail. Only able to watch what went on from the cold, hard dirt, tears began stream down her cheeks as she helplessly observed her only son: Bonafacio.
Bonafacio skidded to a stop and froze in place as his mom was taken down. With wide eyes, he scanned the mugger from head-to-toe, identifying something distinct on the guy's shoulder. There was a tattoo imprinted on there, its design a simple vine curled up with tiny needles sticking out from it. But the kid didn't really care for that at the moment for he had to protect his mother from harm.
The young boy, no older than eight, charged at the attacker and threw a fist at him. Bonafacio missed and was met with a backhand across the face. The entire world went hazy before it was inevitably met by a bright flash of light.
Then he was forcibly slapped back into reality in a cruel fashion. Bonafacio's eyes fluttered open, and he found himself sprawled on the carpet floor. The side of his face stung bad. It was as if he was also backhanded in the real world. And that was actually true.
"Answer me!" yelled a man above Bonafacio, whose accent hinted that he was from Italy. Naples, specifically. It was difficult to identify who the other person was since Bonafacio was still adjusting to the light, but the clothing the person wore was familiar.
"W-What?" Bonafacio spoke in an undertone. "What's going on?"
It was hard to hear, but he could tell that the passengers in the plane sounded distressed and confused. The same could be said for the kid.
"I pried into your little gift but noticed that the drugs aren't there. It was actually empty to my surprise." The attacker punted the torn box. "The cocaine. Where have you hidden it?"
"I don't have a clue about what you're talking about. Who the heck even are you?"
"Vidiano. Vidiano Bottini." The so-called Vidiano bent his knees and crouched, eyeing Bonafacio with a tinge of disdain.
Bonafacio took a closer look at this Vidiano character and soon realized that Vidiano was that stalker from before! The one from the restrooms! But how did he get onboard? Wasn't he rejected?
"These drugs you speak of," responded Bonafacio. "I'm not affiliated with them in any way! Honest!"
"You expect me to believe you when I witnessed you take the package from that Thorns informant?! Do you take me for a fool, Bonafacio Bourbon?!"
Impossible! How does Vidiano know my name?! And agreeing to that deal made with the sketchy guy from earlier really did spell trouble! What was that man's goal?! The kid couldn't comprehend, his mind racing with the possibilities.
"I'll take that silence as a yes," Vidiano rose, his ice-cold glare piercing the back of the boy's head. It was almost like he was trying to figure out Bonafacio's agenda. "My patience runs thin, Bourbon. You should feel honored that I haven't killed you yet, even though you're pure scum. Scum that finds joy in destroying an innocent person's future, including women and children, while also collecting blood money! You gangsters are all the same! All greed and no respect for life. Not even for your own. Filth!"
He pulled his leg back and propelled his foot into Bonafacio's face.
Bonafacio recoiled from the blow, feeling an immediate numbness spread across his cheekbones. It was like getting struck by a baseball bat minus the pain aspect. The wave of a headache took effect right after, triggering Bonafacio to groan as he clutched his mug. He racked up the energy to spit, "I'm not in a gang of any kind! And the Thorns? I don't know who they are! What they are!"
"Bullcrap," Vidiano seethed. "I don't care whether or not you're in their ranks. What I do care about is that you're clearly an associate of theirs. That much has to be true, otherwise you wouldn't just take from that informant and go on your merry way. Now give up the details, Bonafacio Bourbon! I demand a location of one of the Thorns' outposts. Surely you recall a spot."
Bonafacio didn't answer, using this valuable time to think. And so the kid thought real carefully. Vidiano doesn't seem like he's screwing around for fun. He's serious, that's for certain. Though he appears misled. No, I was misled too. That shady individual in the fedora set us both up! I'm being framed for a crime I didn't commit, and Vidiano must be a law enforcer of sorts that's chasing the wrong suspect! How do I fix this? Wait, can I even fix this?
"Playing the silent act again? Bad move. Why don't you go ahead and take a real good look at yourself?" Vidiano pointed at the other.
Bonafacio wasn't quite sure what Vidiano meant. The golden-haired boy frowned, soon realizing that the vision in his left eye was beginning to fail. Everything appeared blurry and the cloudiness got worse by the second. Eventually, he could only see darkness in that left eye. Before he could start panicking, something slid down from his noggin and hit the floor.
Bonafacio could not believe what he was seeing with his only functional eye. That thing that plummeted from his head was none other than the left side of his face, and that included the eye, its surrounding areas, and the cheek beneath it. The kid wheezed at the sight of his own torn flesh, trying to touch the portion of the face that he lost but feeling nothing. That's the funny part: he didn't feel anything in that place at all. Not even pain.
A cacophony of perturbed screams and shrieks erupted in the cabin, the passengers fleeing the scene by heading for the higher classes. So many people tripped and shoved one another as they rushed out.
"Looks like I killed two birds with one stone," Vidiano asserted as he spectated the crowd make their disappearance. The man focused back on Bonafacio soon after, planting a foot on the boy's hand to pin it down. He would squat and say, "How much more torture must I put you through until you finally grow a brain and spill the beans, huh?"
Bonafacio frantically speculated. I don't get it! Who is this other guy?! Who is he really?! He's not like the rest of the people here! No, he's just like me! He has powers like me! And he's going to kill me with those powers! There's no doubt about it! He'll murder me unless I stop him and clear the misconceptions!
Grimacing, Bonafacio hurled his free fist at the foot that was applying pressure. He was successful in his endeavors, throwing a couple more punches at Vidiano's limb. He was hurting the other, that was for sure, but that actually wasn't the kid's aim. He had an ulterior motive in mind.
"Quit this child's play!" Vidiano freed his foot from the attacks before ramming it straight into Bonafacio's gut, the boy grunting in response.
Bonafacio rolled away, although doing that was done on purpose rather than because of the blow he received. He stood up, albeit a bit unstable, and rushed for the next side of the cabin where the higher classes were located, sweating and puffing along the way.
"Stop with the foolishness, Bonafacio Bourbon!" Vidiano bellowed as he took off and chased the boy like a predator hunting its prey. He bent down, grabbed the fallen part of Bonafacio's face and hid it away in his suit before meeting up with him once more, who apparently made his stop by a kitten that was asleep on a passenger's lap. "Now what are you planning on--"
Bonafacio, in the heat of the moment, snatched the kitten away from her owner with one fluid motion. And then, in a blink of an eye, the kitten was replaced with a handgun. A real sleek one too. He trained the weapon at Vidiano, ordering, "Reverse whatever you did to me and I might just let this slide! I need my face back!"
"How did you--" Vidiano tensed up, appalled by that magic trick Bonafacio performed in a mere second.
Again, like last time, the passengers in this area of the cabin ran off at the appearance of the gun and the fact that they saw a boy missing literally half of his face. The owner of the cat was petrified and continued to sit in her seat, unmoving.
"Fix me now! I won't hesitate to pull the trigger if you don't!" Bonafacio spouted, believing he had a major advantage right now. He had to make use of it.
"You've got wit and you've got grit, I'll give you that." Vidiano replied, pocketing his hands afterward, the thumbs hanging out. The expression on his face gave the impression that he was unusually calm and collected during this considerably terrible situation that he caught himself in.
Bonafacio scowled, placing a tighter grip on the firearm. He's so calm! Why is Vidiano like this? Shouldn't he be begging for his life to be spared right now? And yet he's acting like this is a typical day at work. Wait! Don't tell me he's going to--
Unexpectedly, the aisle that Vidiano was standing on caved in on itself, but only after what seemed to be a long strip tape appeared and disappeared right underneath Vidiano. The man landed on the concrete outside before dashing off the taxiway, leaving Bonafacio's field of view.
The golden-haired boy hurried over to the edge of the hole and looked down, running a hand over the surface of the carpet floor flap that collapsed, noticing how rubbery it was. "This explains everything! No wonder he managed to slip past the attendants and enter the jet earlier! Vidiano can generate tape on an object and open up a space! How versatile and dangerous! He can't be allowed to leave!"
Bonafacio crawled out of the plane and spun over the ground before breaking out into a sprint for Vidiano. He pointed his gun at the other's back, but it proved to be no use when the older gentleman turned around a corner. Bonafacio decided to swing his weapon by his side for the time being as to not attract too much attention and wiped the sweat gathering at his eyelids with his forearm while his mind wandered.
I must subdue Vidiano before things truly spiral out of hand! Definitely before he calls for backup or else I'll never make it out of this city alive! I'll need to use my ability, Easy Lover, now more than ever in order to survive!