Chereads / This Sanguinary System / Chapter 1 - Always Late.

This Sanguinary System

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Synopsis

Chapter 1 - Always Late.

The curtains billowed softly from the calm spring breeze, carrying hints of freshly cut grass and flowers. God rays entered the room casting light upon floating dust motes and hair dancing in space from a cat leaping to its perch on the desk. It's whiskers twitched as it took in the scents from outside, before it ravished it's own orange fur with its tongue.

This cat seemed to struggle to reach a spot located behind it's hind leg, forcing it's way passed it's own blubber as it grunted and chortled with each lick until it gave up it's endeavor to let out an explosive sneeze. Clove thought this was funny and released a soft chuckle, which broke the veil of his spacious thoughts.

He suddenly hopped up to pet his cat, aggressively scrunching his pet's nape before he moved his hand around to rub it's cheeks. Tricking the feline, he then brought both of his hands to cradle it's face as he unleashed a volley of sniffs and kisses to the top of the cats head. The animal panicked and slithered away before he lept to the floor to find an unassuming area in the apartment.

Clove returned a smile towards it when his phone alarm went off. He was startled and frantically ripped the phone from his pocket as he darted out of the room.

[9:30am. YOU'RE LATE!]

He half read the alarm's message as he danced his thumb around the screen failing the lock pattern several times because he was also trying to slip on his shoes.

"I know...I knoww!!" He said as he successfully silenced the abrasive noise.

Just as he placed his hand against the cool metal of the doorknob, Clove spun on his heel then dashed back towards the room he just came from.

'I swear I left them right here' He thought as he frantically searched the sofa he was resting on while lost in his day dream.

Clove often found himself daydreaming, having entire experiences while sitting in the comfort of his own thoughts. One minute, he's directing the next big superhero blockbuster, then traveling at light speed through space to discover various interstellar mysteries, or he's stopping time and stealing everyone's left shoe and replacing it with a stranger's just to watch the mass confusion in a restaurant.

Sometimes Clove even found himself confusing memories for reality with those of his imagination. Often assuming that he did in fact fold the laundry already, or he did get into a car accident, or he did live an entire life during the Italian Renaissance, so on and so forth. It was almost as though he was able to live out every possible existence that his mind could think of.

But Clove knew this was just a culmination of his ADHD and hyperactive imagination. But he still secretly considered himself to have a superpower, being really skilled at deductive reasoning. Multiple choice tests were usually too easy for him, even if he didn't really understand the testing material.

"Thank, God." Clove said as he grabbed the ear buds he was searching for as he shoved them into his pocket.

Walking to the door, Clove grabbed his keys and his motorcycle helmet.

Clove turned around briefly to look at his cat, Sil. He was bathing in the sunlight that poured into the hallway, lying on his back and pawing at the air in absolute comfort. Clove looked upon the scene with a melting heart as he lovingly smirked at the animal.

Sil is the only one that Clove can call family. Since Clove grew up bouncing between foster homes, seeing as he was left at a firestation on his birthday.

'Fuck em' He thought as he gave himself a frisk, double checking he had what he needed before walking out the door until his alarm started going off again.

[9:35am. DUDE. SERIOUSLY. GO.]

This time, he skillfully drew the correct unlock pattern on his phone the first try as he opened the door leading outside.

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Walking towards his motorcycle, he strapped his helmet on and attached his phone to the holder clipped to his ape hangers. Clove was considered tall by some. He was 6'1" depending on the time of day, and most motorcycles come from the manufacturer with a 'one size fits all' rider seating position. It wasn't until he had installed his ape hangers with the help of a couple buddies did his back pain from slouching while riding go away.

Clove switched on the bike with a deep 'click' as he could hear the fuel pump whirring, followed by the speedometers needle waving back and forth. Giving the bike's electronics a moment to settle, he then held down the ignition switch until the hog chugged to life releasing a deep roar.

'Master Chief' (as he liked to call it) was a Road King Special that came from the factory in a matte green that had a small amount of gold flecks seated in the paint, giving it a subtle sheen in direct sunlight. In contrast, the rest of the bike was black. Frame, handle bars, rims, exhaust, engine, crash guard, all of it black.

"Let's get going, baby." He said as he awkwardly duck walked the bike backwards out of the driveway and onto the road, giving the throttle satisfying twists making the bike growl, to attempt to warn anyone close by that he was near. Getting hit on the bike freaks him out still, and he has been told that the most mistakes on a motorcycle occur during slow speeds.

Once he was lined up with the road and could see no other traffic present, he stomped the shifter down into first gear as he slowly released the clutch playing with the friction zone while he rolled on the throttle, entering the roadway with as much grace as possible. This left him feeling empty as the stretching road beckoned exhilaration.

Clove released a smirk as he felt his pupils constrict, zeroing in on the horizon line of the roadway he ripped the throttle causing the back end of the Master Chief to squat, giving way to the torque being unleashed. Listening to the engine, he quickly cycled through the gears until the wind was roaring alongside the sound of his exhaust and was attempting to pull his body away from his bike.

Finally satisfied, he let go of the throttle and began downshifting before he came to a calm stop at the stopsign. Smiling, he checked the digital clock that was on a small infotainment panel beneath the speedometer.

[9:47am]

"Damn it." Clove said as he double checked his bike was in first gear before turning away from the stop sign. In the middle of his turn, Clove suddenly had the wind knocked out of him and his vision went dark.

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