Chapter 56
Dreaded Dark
It stalked.
The dark alleyways were its home, the damp, rancid holes between the buildings filled with trash and things unwanted. It, too, was unwanted. But it could become wanted. It could become anything. And anything it was–inscrutable, ephemeral.
"Hey, Julie!" its voice was perfect–a lullaby, a song, the grandly crafted replica. Nobody knew. Nobody heard.
"Oh, hey girl! Haven't seen you in a while!"
"Missed me?" it strained forward and flapped its eyelashes and chortled with laughter, showing white teeth. It knew. It learned. It was perfect.
"You know it, girl! We gotta catch up soon!"
"Of course! I gots lotta things to share!" it wasn't just the voice. It wasn't just the gait, the posture, the tone. It was everything. It knew. It absorbed.
"Ha ha, can't wait to hear it!"
It stalked.
In the darkest of nights, nobody suspected. Nobody feared. It was a young girl. Harmless. Innocent. Pure. But a twisted knot would unwind at the climax of the night–and it would gape its horrid maw and swallow them whole. It was now Julie. Tall, large-chested, a brunette. And Julie was it–a college student, just turned twenty, dating a boy named Jamal, with them being cutely known as 'JJ'. She was a party girl, and so it would become a party girl too. She was clever and quick with a witty quip, so it would become clever too. It could be witty and quippy. It could be anything. It was anything. It was perfect.
**
Ethan stared absentmindedly at the four names he'd jotted down–Major Thomas Jones, First Lieutenant Mark Elleween, Colonel Quincy Jeeves, and the odd one out, Staff Sergeant Marissa McConey. Next to each name was a basic debrief: their age, appearance, and a short history of their military careers. Further below was a rather detailed description of their routine, where they slept, where they ate, where they were staffed, and all the necessary details one would need to plan a successful assassination.
He stroked his chin softly, noting one last bit of info: their Classes. They were all Awakened, and per the Army's requirements, every one of the commissioned officers was required to report their Class to the head of the army–in this scenario, General Michael himself–while the Enlisted Soldiers could do so of their own will. Supposedly, Marissa never did as only her Class was missing.
For the other three, they were mostly basic Classes that Ethan didn't care for–common ilk that were dime-a-dozen in a single compound, let alone on a larger scale.
Fiddling with his thoughts for a moment, he pulled up the map of the military compound. It was heavily redacted, but he was given perfectly enough info to concentrate on where the four navigated through the most. It also meant he'd have a perfect way to map out precisely where they would be the easiest to kill as Michael did provide him with some of the soldier counts. Not in numbers, per se, but colours–bloody red meant heavy surveillance, bled out green meant barely any.
Ethan mused that this definitely wasn't the first time the man had to prepare documents like these. He pondered whether it was sad or funny, in the grand scheme of things. It was natural–the man was a General, an inordinately young one at that. It'd be moronic to think that he hadn't dipped his pen in the esoteric ways of the opportunists.
It didn't matter.
None of the information was actually necessary. Ethan didn't care for their routines, just where they slept. He'd sneak in, kill them, and get out. There was no camera, no eye, no Class that could keep track of him. Even without a stealth-bound Class, Ethan has twenty years of experience with sneaking in and out of places and killing people without ever being found out.
Yawning, he elected to leave the lodge sometime later in the evening. He didn't plan on sticking around in the city–in fact, considering that all four lived within a mile of each other, he planned on killing them all tonight and even visiting the mighty General to inform him and have fun with the man for a bit.
As for whether any of the four deserved to die… that was immaterial. Chances were that they simply belonged to an alternate faction rising within the military. They were mounting pressure on the General to make changes–or it could just be a simple case of faction fighting. Ethan… didn't care. He killed good people before–people likely far better than any of the four.
Their sole sin wasn't even theirs–considering the nature of the military, chances were that Michael was ousted in the previous attempt at it all; it was entirely likely that Ethan's interference would wholly uproot the direction of the military. There was even a chance it would survive a one-year-ordeal, and prosper into the future. It wasn't exactly a desirable scenario, but it wasn't the worst thing in the world either.
Evening soon came and Ethan packed rather lightly since he suspected he'd be back tomorrow afternoon at the latest.
"You two need anything?" He glanced back at Ronald and Layla who were playing, of all things, monopoly. For a moment, he forgot that Tian was there too–playing the role of the bank, giddy with all the paper money he was sitting on top of.
"Alcohol," Ronald replied quickly. "We're basically out."
"Anything for you, princess? No alcohol, though."
"He he, I don't want it!" Layla giggled. "I… I don't need anything."
"Man, you know what I miss?" Ethan sighed. "I miss when you let me spoil you rotten! Ever since I adopted this big goof over here, you don't let me spoil you at all! What, you want him to think you're a big girl? Ronald, tell her she's a big girl."
"You're a big girl, Layla…"
"See? Your largeness won't be questioned just because you let me spoil you here and there."
"!!!" Layla pouted slightly at the 'largeness' part of it all but succumbed in the end. "I… I miss my colouring books. If… if you find any…"
"Colouring books? Say no more. I'll bring the entire goddamn store over here."
"N-no! Just, just one is fine!"
"I know, lovebug," he chuckled lightly and kissed the top of her head gently, ruffling her hair after the fact. "I'll be back sometime tomorrow. Don't do anything I would. Anything happens…"
"... and we're off to the cave," Ronald said. "Don't worry. I've already knighted her as my little sister, too. Ain't that right?"
"He he~~"
It took Ethan around an hour and a half before he reached the city's boundaries. He didn't rush, mostly jogging over. Despite the increased security on all fronts–more men and women that were all Awakened equipped with a state-of-the-art security system that wasn't built by a couple of engineering students, he was invisible. A trotting shadow, he swept past it all and entered the city under the guise of darkness.
For a while, he lounged about, walking the semi-familiar streets. A wave of odd nostalgia swept over him when he walked past Emerson Park, a small, largely abandoned playground that he used to spend almost entire days on when he was a kid. In fact, his very first kiss happened on the bench tucked underneath a tall, hazelnut tree: Marina Chekovski, a Russian exchange student who wanted to experience as much American culture as she could for the one semester that she was here.
Sighing at the memory, Ethan dispersed the distracting thoughts and rushed toward the main military compound. If the outer boundaries of the city were well guarded, then the military compound was the verifiable Fort Knox, within and without. There were individual posted guards every fifty feet, watchtowers armed with them, and security cameras galore, with every inch seemingly illuminated.
But… they weren't ready, yet. Though they did make some adjustments with the Awakened in mind, they still underestimated the sheer capabilities of a human that had Awakened.
Tucked in a distant corner was a piece of twenty-foot-tall fence that was largely unlit and unguarded as it was angled outwardly, framed with barbed wire to the top.
Though seemingly impenetrable, Ethan climbed it with ease, letting the barbed wire dig into his palms and yank out his flesh. It would heal, anyway, within minutes.
He was in–and the security immediately felt shallower. The patrols were far and few between, a good number of alleyways were left unlit, and as it was simply a repurposed quarter of a city, there were a lot of blind corners he abused as he moved inwardly, following the scope of the blueprints he was given.
It wasn't long before he came upon a repurposed grocery store that was now a soldier barracks. Inside, he could hear jolly chatter and roaring laughter. Ignoring them, he climbed up through the side and peeked inside; he spotted Marrisa almost immediately. There weren't many women inside–only three, in fact–and she was the only blonde, per her description.
She was seated at the far rear with the other two women, chattering with a couple of men and drinking.
Ethan frowned–he could go in and kill her easily without being spotted, but that would raise the alarms. On the other hand, if he had to wait, he had no idea when she would go to sleep–for all he knew, they'd party all night long.
He didn't have to make a tough choice, however, as Marissa got up no more than a minute later, bid farewell to others, and retreated toward the makeshift room with a bunk bed.
Not wanting to let the opportunity slip by him, Ethan wormed inside and quickly found his way to the room in question. She was undressing, taking off her jacket and pants and undergarments, and tossing on a tank top and shorts before slithering into the bed.
Before she could close her eyes, a dark, looming shadow was upon her; she managed to catch a glimpse of a crimson blade descending and easily sweeping through her throat, killing her instantly while sucking up all the spilt blood, ensuring not even a drop fell to the bed.
Pulling back, Ethan observed in silence. It looked like she was asleep, her back turned toward him, head tucked into the pillow. She'd be discovered tomorrow midday at the earliest.
He left the room.
One down–three to go. It would be a short night, it felt. Despite her rank, Ethan was beyond certain she'd be the hardest to kill as she was the only one who lived in common quarters. The other three, naturally, either lived in private houses or enclosures or apartments.
A part of him felt electric–after all, it was a return to the known for him. While Blood Inheritor was a vastly superior Class to his previous one, he was still adjusting himself to it. Sneaking into places and killing people… that he knew, in his bones. A return to form would be a brief but welcome distraction. After all, he sneaked around before because he had no other choice. He had to sneak around. In this life, though, there was no need for it. He'd embrace the light and let the fire of it burn, for it would only embolden him further.