Hate Isn't The Word For It...

An alarm sounded off somewhere inside a cluttered room. Another soon picked up inside an even messier room down the hall. Their shrieking pierced the morning air inside a New York apartment, overlaying the sounds of traffic and chaos from the streets below. The beds they were near held their messy occupants, who seemingly never heard the racket. A hand began groping around blindly for the moving clock that vibrated so much it danced among the clutter. Finally the hand found the clock and the thumb pressed the button, silencing the awful noise. As if it had used up all of its energy, the hand fell limp on the dresser. And so the cluttered room was quiet.
That left the other clock, down the hall, which was still shrieking and caught in its tremulous dance. The owner to this clock took longer than the other to reach up finally and touch the clock. The hand appeared to be big enough to crush the clock, but it simply pushed a button to silence it. Then it fell limp and slowly slid off the dresser, retreating back under the covers like a snake after the kill.
Time passes. The chaotic noises of everyday life continue outside, worsen even (if possible), every now and then the sound of an upset pedestrian or alerted car horn reaching the inside of the sixth floor, brick, apartment. But neither of the home’s occupants listened to these noises, or even heard them, they failed to move from the deep slumber both were in. More time elapses.
After a few moments, the first clock begins to wail again. Then the second takes up. Once again the small, totally trashed, but lived in; apartment is ringing with the two noises clashing together. And then, after a few moments of the awful noise the first hand lashes from out of its covering embankment at the defenseless clock. It seizes the clock and hurls it at the opposite wall with terrifying force. The clock is silenced, but also shatters in the process, and slides down the wall to land in a heap of clothing. The hand slides back under the covers and the owner shifts a little, moaning and yanking the covers over their head, burying their face in the mattress.
The second clock is still shrieking, having paid no mind to the dieing wails of its companion. Now the large masculine hand hovers over it again, and then descends without warning, grabbing the squealing clock. It crushes the clock and then lets go, the clock dropping among keys, coins, candy wrappers, and other “assorted” clutter. Now the hand closes again and hovers, then falls back and drapes over the owner’s covered head. The owner groans and the hand flexes, and then is limp. Now mere minutes elapse and silence hovers in the air.
The masculine owner groans again and another hand appears, this one with three large rings on it. The covers are ripped back and he sits up, running a hand thru his tousled, thick, silver hair. He stands up and stretches, showing how well muscled and built he is. A tattoo of a black rose flashes on the inside of his lower left stomach, his pants almost covering it. A symbol with a gun in front is on his upper right arm. Card symbols are tattooed to his fingers. His large violet eyes are closed, but soon open and stay drooped. He scratches the back of his neck, while smacking his lips, then stumbles to a bathroom, shoving open the door against the clutter and mess of his room.
The feminine owner moans again and then yanks the sheets back angrily. Her nails are long, narrow, and painted a sleek black with card symbols on them and dice. The toxic symbol is tattooed to the back of her right hand in neon blue. She stands up and has only a skimpy pair of underwear on and a thin, mid-drift tank top with the Superman S on it. A rose signet, looking like cut stained glass of black with silver outlining, in a circle, is tattooed above her right breast. On her back she has the silhouette of a dragon with its wings spread out and head rearing up. It takes up her entire back. She ruffles her thick blanket of wavy, caramel colored hair with multi-colored tips and a few colored streaks. Her big eyes open and droop to almost shut again; one is read and the other silver. She staggers through the mess of her room to the bathroom, where she forces open the door, with a bit of harshness, against the mess.
A few moments pass. Both beings emerge from their rooms and into the tiny hallway where they slowly shuffle to the kitchen without ever acknowledging each other. They get to the kitchen and pause in the doorway to turn and stare at each other, as if just noticing the other one. The girl groans and her shoulders slump even lower, the guy shrugs as if to say it’s not his problem, and goes to the fridge. The girl pulls out pots and pans and begins to make breakfast sleepily as the guy hands her eggs and bacon from the fridge (all of this happening in slow motion) and then he tugs out the milk jug and begins to pour himself some in a crystal glass. The girl begins to scramble eggs and fry bacon.
She yawns and rubs sleep out of her eyes as she pokes at the frying eggs. The guy comes up behind her and wraps an arm around her waist, resting his head on her shoulder and laying his lips on her neck; his other hand against her thigh. She smiles for a moment and then her head clears of most of the morning grogginess. “Oh hell no!” she shoved him off and he laughed softly. “Damn…” he muttered, putting his palm to his head and sighing. “Yeah, it aint that damn early! You stay away from me or I’ll hit you with this skillet!” the girl turned and pointed at him. He laughed again, “Like in the movies?” he grinned and she started laughing, then forced it back. “Yeah, just like in the movies. Now sit down, shut up, and wait.” She pointed to the little table with two chairs on either side. He drained his milk glass, then uncapped the jug and began draining that. She turned around, her eyes on the plates of eggs, bacon, and toast. “Hey! Stop that, you animal!” she sat the plates down and kicked his shins, making him backwash into the jug. “Ewww! Other people have to drink that!” she whined as he capped it back up and put it in the fridge, then sat at the table and looked at her as she sat across from him. “Eat and stay away.” She didn’t even look up this time. He shrugged, “You always assume the worse from me…I wouldn’t do that…now…” he began eating as she shook her head and divided up the paper between them.
Something slammed against the door. They looked up and then at the door in the living room. A knock came next, then another, then another. “Great.” He threw his hands up in the air and rolled his eyes. “Oh I got it, you big baby.” She stood up and tossed her paper over her food. “Thanks Nat.” he pinched her butt as she went by. “I’ll get you for that when I come back in there!” she yelled, entering the darkened living room. She peeked through the tightly drawn curtains to see the delivery man looking at the door stupidly. Then she closed the curtains and pulled back the three bolts, two chain locks, and undid the dead bolt and door lock (come on! It is New York!). Then she opened the door and blinked at the sunlight filtering through. “Who are you?” she muttered as the guy stared at her mutely. “I-I…” he shook his head as she raised an eyebrow and leaned against the door frame. “I-I’m John Withermyer.” He stammered out, clearing his throat. “Well John,” she stressed his name like it was hard to say. “You obviously have the wrong apartment. This is Shift’s route.” She stretched tiredly and yawned, flashing her dog-like teeth. “I-I know, I’m filling in for Shift today.” He smiled again. “Oh,” she shrugged casually. “Silly me. So where is the bastard today? Playing hookie?” she wondered as she signed ‘Natalie De Lenfant’ on the machine for her package. “Uh…no mamm…” he shook his head and she cut him a look. “No “mamm”s, I’m not old.” She muttered and he nodded, eager to please. “But Shift is uh, taking the day off.” He grinned and she gave him his oversized palm-pilot back. “Lazy ass bastard.” She held out her hand for the package. He handed her the one as he glanced at her name, “Natalie De Lenfant? Funny name isn’t it?” he smiled up at her. “No not really.” She gave him a blank look, but it was cruel. Then she proceeded to glance over the package. “Stop undressing me with your eyes.” She muttered then looked up. “Well John,” once again she stressed his name. “Everything seems to be good. So you just run along now.” She gave a fake grin and stepped inside and shut the door in his face.
Natalie did all the bolts and things back while glancing at the manila envelope in her hands addressed to: ‘Agent N and Agent K’, stamped over it in red letters it stated, TOP SECRET. She sighed and walked into the kitchen, tossing it down on the table in front of Nikolas.
“Today’s assignment; Don’t get egg on it this time.” Natalie sighed as she sat down again. “Don’t get egg on it this time…” Nikolas mocked while making a face. She ignored him, “So open it.” He shrugged. “No, you open it.” She stuck her tongue out at him. “Tempting offer, but not now. Maybe later.” He grinned as she grimaced. “Asshole.” She glared, throwing some bacon at him. He caught it in his mouth with dog-like reflexes and ate it while grinning. “Stupid.” She muttered under her breath, while smiling, and picking up the envelope. She opened it and a silver screen slid out, only about an inch and a half thick. She laid it on the table and touched the Steel Door Incorporated or SDI button, on the bottom of the screen.
A rod slid out of the top and paused, then unfolded into a rod sticking up. The top blinked and suddenly a red beam shot out, rotating around the room. Nikolas and Natalie acted as though nothing strange were happening, Nikolas eating and Natalie drinking freshly poured coffee. The beam disappeared and a mechanical voice stated “Room is secure.” And then the rod folded up and slid back into the panel. Now the screen came on and SDI blinked in the middle for a moment, then their head officer’s face appeared on the screen. “Good morning Natalie, Nikolas. I trust you slept well? Good, good, the more rest you’ve had the better, I always say.” His voice was calming to the nerves, he was a very calm person. Cool and collected, he was very powerful also. “Today’s mission isn’t going to be a walk in the park…then again it may be for you two, with you two I can never tell. Here are some diagrams of a house/museum that we want you two to get into.” He disappeared and some blue diagrams showed up, then layouts of a very large mansion. “Nikolas pay attention!” Natalie pointed and he groaned, but leaned over and listened.
“An artifact that the Elder Ones have stolen from us is there. We need it back, this artifact holds within it the very map to where ever the hell our ancestors buried more of their treasure.” He continued. “Not like we need any more…” Nikolas glanced up at Natalie who shushed him, but she agreed and he knew it. This would be easy, and it was not important. She felt cheated. “But that’s not what I want yo to focus on. Sure it’s important, but I really need you to focus on this man and others.” A picture of a group of museum workers showed up. “They are researchers for the Elder Ones, which specific clan and branch we are not sure, yet. But we believe they attain knowledge of us and are going to use it against us. Some are armed and dangerous, so don’t provoke them or even draw attention to yourself/selves…Natalie.” Nikolas looked up at her again and she grinned.
The message continued for a short while and then he bid them farewell. The panel shut off and Natalie picked it up, tossing it on the counter. It could never be reactivated because once the message came through and shut off, the memory chip containing the message leaked acid which ate through it and all the parts around it; destroying it from the inside out. “Well, guess we better get dressed and started.” Natalie sighed and Nikolas nodded. Both stood up and stretched, then headed to the back to get dressed and stocked up for the mission.
“Nikolas!” Natalie stuck her head out of her door and looked around, then at “his” end of the hallway. He peeked out and she smiled, stepping out of her room in her favorite bra and boxers. “Are we “normal” people today? Or agents?” she wondered and he shrugged. “I guess “normal” today. We’ll check it out first and then if we need to be agents we’ll come back and change. Simple enough.” He shrugged again, putting a shirt on and pulling it over his head. “Oh…then I can’t wear this.” She reached behind herself and unhooked her bra. “Why not?” Nikolas raised a playful eyebrow. “Because of the outfit I’m wearing today you pervert!” Natalie waved him away and went into her room again.
“What are you packing?” Nikolas wondered, walking into Natalie’s room and glancing at her. She continued to stuff shit into a side-saddle pack that had the Evil Queen from Snow White on the front of it. “Shit I may need…and why the hell are you in my room?” she turned around to face him with a glare. “I’m not really sure why I’m in here…oh well.” He shrugged as he looked at her bed. “Okay, let’s go.” She shut the flap to her bag and buckled it, then put it on and turned to face him. Nikolas looked back at her and over her outfit: she had on thigh short, frayed, holy, jean shorts that were skin tight. She had on a skin tight, black tube-top that she was about to bust out of. On it was the evil queen from Snow White again, but it said in glittery, red letters above her: I’m NO Princess. She had on black, high-top Converse with mis-matching shoelaces and her hair was left down and hung about her waist. As usual a black choker was around her neck with a silver dragon medallion resting on her collar bone.
Nikolas licked his lips, “Shut the hell up and keep a ten-foot distance.” Natalie’s face went blank as she shoved past him and walked out. “Hey!” he went after her, laughing to himself. He met her outside down in the parking lot, readjusting his knapsack on his shoulder. “We taking the bike today? Please!” he was almost bouncing up and down, like an immature kid. “With as horny as you are today?” Natalie looked him over. “Uh…let me think-oops! I don’t even need to think on it! NO!” She walked to their Ferrari and dug in her purse for her keys. “Aww come on…I’ll cool it, I swear.” He put a hand over his heart and put the other to the car door to stop her. “You can.” She muttered still looking for the keys. “Goddammit! Where are they?!” she cried out, her head almost being swallowed by the bag. “What? Oh…these?” Nikolas grinned and held up the keys. “You!” Natalie jerked her head up and dropped her bag, buckling it while staring at him viciously. “Ride the bike…or I throw them in the gutter.” He grinned and looked down at the drain he was standing over. “Argh! Damn you!” Natalie growled and stomped her foot. “We have to get going…hurry…I feel my fingers slipping…” Nikolas almost laughed at the rage on Natalie’s face. “Bah! I hate you!” she shouted and stormed to the bike. “Yes! Score: 1 for me 0 for you!” Nikolas laughed and tossed her the keys. She caught them without even looking; he jumped on the motorcycle and put his helmet on as she straddled the bike behind him and put her helmet on too. “I’ll get you for this. I’ll take my scissors and cut off your…” Natalie grumbled, but suddenly the bike lurched forward, reviving to life. “Hold on Nat!” Nikolas laughed as they pulled into the streamline of traffic. He loved doing that to her, because she always grabbed him really tight.
“We’re here.” Nikolas shut the bike off and pulled off his helmet, shaking his head like a dog. “Sneaky little bastard…I refuse to forgive you ever again.” Natalie kept muttering to herself as she pulled off her helmet and stood up. She ran her hands through her hair, closing her eyes and sighing tiredly. A car went by and the boys in it whistled, she flipped them off and turned her back to them. “Let’s get this over with, come on asshole.” She started up the steps. “Okay, queen of the bitches.” Nikolas rolled his eyes and followed her, she laughed and nodded, “Don’t you know it!” she smiled and he laughed also, shaking his head.
“I hate museums…”Natalie muttered to Nikolas as they walked in and looked around. “Why?” he raised an eyebrow and laughed at her. “They’re so freakin quiet…I hate it! And they all are nothing but memories of the dead and gone; of the wasted years. They give me the creeps.” Natalie hugged herself and shivered. “Oooh…the scary museums are coming to get you Nat!” Nikolas joked, hissing in her ears. “Knock it off! I’m serious!” she shoved him away as he laughed to himself, once again shaking his head. “And yet, you are the girl who would spend all her time in a cemetery if she could. Ironic, no?” he laughed and she shoved him again. “In cemeteries you don’t have relics of the trashed past and you don’t have these…horrible…wax figures staring at you like corpses.” She pointed out as Nikolas paused to stare at a wax figure of a plantation slave from the south. “I thought you liked corpses Nat.” he commented causally, entranced by the figure for some reason. “I do, but not ones like these wax figures…wait…” she turned to him, anger flashing across her eyes. “Why are we discussing my fears?! It’s none of your damned business!” she folded her arms over her chest. “You were the one who brought it up! Hey Nat! Wait up bitch!” he walked after her as she turned the corner into a gallery. “They’re here…go greet our guest…”
“Is it just me,” Nikolas started to look around, into the hallways instead of at the junk. “Or did you also notice that no one’s here, but…us…” he muttered. “Probably nothing, who comes to museums anyways? This place probably stays deserted all year long.” Natalie shrugged, gazing at a portrait of a woman reclining on a couch. “No, normally old people in the least are here…Nat, something’s up.” He shook his head and touched her hand lightly. She looked down at their hands, then him, he was staring this way and that down the hallway. “Oh…did I scare you with my talk of museums?” she giggled and he turned and looked at her. “No stupid, something isn’t right. I’m telling you, something’s up!” he snapped and she laughed, turning back around and glancing at the pictured. “You are so paranoid. Come on, the artifact should be this way.” Natalie pointed to a map of the museum and then started walking to her left. Nikolas looked around, then followed her, ears listening to anything and everything.
“Oh my gods Nick watch out!” Natalie suddenly cried out and Nikolas ducked. She doubled over with laughter as he stood up straight again, trying to maintain his dignity. “Your face! Oh my god that was priceless!” she laughed, pointing at him. “Shut up! Stop laughing your ass off and come on!” he started to move, but froze. Natalie stood up, wiping a tear away. “What? You gonna try it on me now?” she laughed, then froze also, pulling her ears back and listening to the noise. She moved her head to the right, narrowly avoiding a bullet. “Bitches…” she hissed and spun around, glaring at the four guys behind her. “Any ideas Natalie?!” Nikolas wondered and Natalie nodded as the guys split up and hid from them. “They’re planning an ambush!” Nikolas shouted as she ran forward, “I know! You want my idea?” she turned around really quick and grinned at him. He saw her flash her canines at him, a light playing in her eyes that he knew all too well. “Fight them to the death! Now this is what I came for, not some stupid artifact!” she thrust a fist into the air, then turned around and disappeared from his view. He laughed and shook his head, but another bullet was shot at him. He ducked it and spun on the guy, “Alright dude, that’s getting kinda annoying!” he shouted and launched a punch, knocking the guy into a statue.
“Where are you friends? Don’t you want to play…?” Natalie had her hand inside her purse as she walked very slowly, looking around every corner excitedly. “Now, just a minute ago you were all excited to play with us…now you won’t even come out! Come on…” she looked around, pausing and sighing disappointedly. “Well, you’re better at hiding then I thought, I’ll admit.” She nodded as though she had accepted defeat. Someone dropped from the ceiling behind her, she froze, picking up on their feet lightly touching the floor. “Ello friend…” she grinned and turned around. “Are you going to fight with me?” she pleaded and he shrugged, then aimed a gun at her. “Oooh, nice toy…here’s mine.” She tugged out one that was even smaller and he laughed. “Yeah, yeah, I know…it’s pathetic…but check this new feature out!” she grinned insanely and shot him. “You stupid idiot, you can’t pull that bullet out of your body.” She laughed as the man tried to pull the bullet out. “That’s ultraviolet light in there! Check this out,” she watched his veins begin to bulge…his skin became drawn tightly and you could see the skeleton under it. The deadened veins were already not use to pumping stuff through them, but the light was ten times harder to pump through then blood (because it was thicker), so his body began straining itself. He gasped for air, clawing at his throat and chest, his insides felt like they were on fire. Soon his eyes rolled into the back of his head to where you could see nothing but the glossy white undersides of them. His mouth opened in fear, ready to utter out a dying command or scream, but only a gargle came. The light went straight to your voice box first, burning it out, then it went to your other vital organs, then your lungs, and finally your heart…giving you the slowest possible, and most painful death. Natalie finished cleaning from under her nails and glanced at the dead corpse. “Took you long enough, geeze…” she walked over and nudged it with her foot. “The world’s most perfect mummy.” She giggled to herself, took his gun and tucked it into her purse, then tucked her own back in. She then began searching for the other three. See, fights to her, were really big games, and she always had to come out on top. Kill your opponent in the most gruesome way, if possible, if not, then blow his head off and make sure a lot of blood is spilled.
To Be Continued…
An alarm sounded off somewhere inside a cluttered room. Another soon picked up inside an even messier room down the hall. Their shrieking pierced the morning air inside a New York apartment, overlaying the sounds of traffic and chaos from the streets below. The beds they were near held their messy occupants, who seemingly never heard the racket. A hand began groping around blindly for the moving clock that vibrated so much it danced among the clutter. Finally the hand found the clock and the thumb pressed the button, silencing the awful noise. As if it had used up all of its energy, the hand fell limp on the dresser. And so the cluttered room was quiet.
That left the other clock, down the hall, which was still shrieking and caught in its tremulous dance. The owner to this clock took longer than the other to reach up finally and touch the clock. The hand appeared to be big enough to crush the clock, but it simply pushed a button to silence it. Then it fell limp and slowly slid off the dresser, retreating back under the covers like a snake after the kill.
Time passes. The chaotic noises of everyday life continue outside, worsen even (if possible), every now and then the sound of an upset pedestrian or alerted car horn reaching the inside of the sixth floor, brick, apartment. But neither of the home’s occupants listened to these noises, or even heard them, they failed to move from the deep slumber both were in. More time elapses.
After a few moments, the first clock begins to wail again. Then the second takes up. Once again the small, totally trashed, but lived in; apartment is ringing with the two noises clashing together. And then, after a few moments of the awful noise the first hand lashes from out of its covering embankment at the defenseless clock. It seizes the clock and hurls it at the opposite wall with terrifying force. The clock is silenced, but also shatters in the process, and slides down the wall to land in a heap of clothing. The hand slides back under the covers and the owner shifts a little, moaning and yanking the covers over their head, burying their face in the mattress.
The second clock is still shrieking, having paid no mind to the dieing wails of its companion. Now the large masculine hand hovers over it again, and then descends without warning, grabbing the squealing clock. It crushes the clock and then lets go, the clock dropping among keys, coins, candy wrappers, and other “assorted” clutter. Now the hand closes again and hovers, then falls back and drapes over the owner’s covered head. The owner groans and the hand flexes, and then is limp. Now mere minutes elapse and silence hovers in the air.
The masculine owner groans again and another hand appears, this one with three large rings on it. The covers are ripped back and he sits up, running a hand thru his tousled, thick, silver hair. He stands up and stretches, showing how well muscled and built he is. A tattoo of a black rose flashes on the inside of his lower left stomach, his pants almost covering it. A symbol with a gun in front is on his upper right arm. Card symbols are tattooed to his fingers. His large violet eyes are closed, but soon open and stay drooped. He scratches the back of his neck, while smacking his lips, then stumbles to a bathroom, shoving open the door against the clutter and mess of his room.
The feminine owner moans again and then yanks the sheets back angrily. Her nails are long, narrow, and painted a sleek black with card symbols on them and dice. The toxic symbol is tattooed to the back of her right hand in neon blue. She stands up and has only a skimpy pair of underwear on and a thin, mid-drift tank top with the Superman S on it. A rose signet, looking like cut stained glass of black with silver outlining, in a circle, is tattooed above her right breast. On her back she has the silhouette of a dragon with its wings spread out and head rearing up. It takes up her entire back. She ruffles her thick blanket of wavy, caramel colored hair with multi-colored tips and a few colored streaks. Her big eyes open and droop to almost shut again; one is read and the other silver. She staggers through the mess of her room to the bathroom, where she forces open the door, with a bit of harshness, against the mess.
A few moments pass. Both beings emerge from their rooms and into the tiny hallway where they slowly shuffle to the kitchen without ever acknowledging each other. They get to the kitchen and pause in the doorway to turn and stare at each other, as if just noticing the other one. The girl groans and her shoulders slump even lower, the guy shrugs as if to say it’s not his problem, and goes to the fridge. The girl pulls out pots and pans and begins to make breakfast sleepily as the guy hands her eggs and bacon from the fridge (all of this happening in slow motion) and then he tugs out the milk jug and begins to pour himself some in a crystal glass. The girl begins to scramble eggs and fry bacon.
She yawns and rubs sleep out of her eyes as she pokes at the frying eggs. The guy comes up behind her and wraps an arm around her waist, resting his head on her shoulder and laying his lips on her neck; his other hand against her thigh. She smiles for a moment and then her head clears of most of the morning grogginess. “Oh hell no!” she shoved him off and he laughed softly. “Damn…” he muttered, putting his palm to his head and sighing. “Yeah, it aint that damn early! You stay away from me or I’ll hit you with this skillet!” the girl turned and pointed at him. He laughed again, “Like in the movies?” he grinned and she started laughing, then forced it back. “Yeah, just like in the movies. Now sit down, shut up, and wait.” She pointed to the little table with two chairs on either side. He drained his milk glass, then uncapped the jug and began draining that. She turned around, her eyes on the plates of eggs, bacon, and toast. “Hey! Stop that, you animal!” she sat the plates down and kicked his shins, making him backwash into the jug. “Ewww! Other people have to drink that!” she whined as he capped it back up and put it in the fridge, then sat at the table and looked at her as she sat across from him. “Eat and stay away.” She didn’t even look up this time. He shrugged, “You always assume the worse from me…I wouldn’t do that…now…” he began eating as she shook her head and divided up the paper between them.
Something slammed against the door. They looked up and then at the door in the living room. A knock came next, then another, then another. “Great.” He threw his hands up in the air and rolled his eyes. “Oh I got it, you big baby.” She stood up and tossed her paper over her food. “Thanks Nat.” he pinched her butt as she went by. “I’ll get you for that when I come back in there!” she yelled, entering the darkened living room. She peeked through the tightly drawn curtains to see the delivery man looking at the door stupidly. Then she closed the curtains and pulled back the three bolts, two chain locks, and undid the dead bolt and door lock (come on! It is New York!). Then she opened the door and blinked at the sunlight filtering through. “Who are you?” she muttered as the guy stared at her mutely. “I-I…” he shook his head as she raised an eyebrow and leaned against the door frame. “I-I’m John Withermyer.” He stammered out, clearing his throat. “Well John,” she stressed his name like it was hard to say. “You obviously have the wrong apartment. This is Shift’s route.” She stretched tiredly and yawned, flashing her dog-like teeth. “I-I know, I’m filling in for Shift today.” He smiled again. “Oh,” she shrugged casually. “Silly me. So where is the bastard today? Playing hookie?” she wondered as she signed ‘Natalie De Lenfant’ on the machine for her package. “Uh…no mamm…” he shook his head and she cut him a look. “No “mamm”s, I’m not old.” She muttered and he nodded, eager to please. “But Shift is uh, taking the day off.” He grinned and she gave him his oversized palm-pilot back. “Lazy ass bastard.” She held out her hand for the package. He handed her the one as he glanced at her name, “Natalie De Lenfant? Funny name isn’t it?” he smiled up at her. “No not really.” She gave him a blank look, but it was cruel. Then she proceeded to glance over the package. “Stop undressing me with your eyes.” She muttered then looked up. “Well John,” once again she stressed his name. “Everything seems to be good. So you just run along now.” She gave a fake grin and stepped inside and shut the door in his face.
Natalie did all the bolts and things back while glancing at the manila envelope in her hands addressed to: ‘Agent N and Agent K’, stamped over it in red letters it stated, TOP SECRET. She sighed and walked into the kitchen, tossing it down on the table in front of Nikolas.
“Today’s assignment; Don’t get egg on it this time.” Natalie sighed as she sat down again. “Don’t get egg on it this time…” Nikolas mocked while making a face. She ignored him, “So open it.” He shrugged. “No, you open it.” She stuck her tongue out at him. “Tempting offer, but not now. Maybe later.” He grinned as she grimaced. “Asshole.” She glared, throwing some bacon at him. He caught it in his mouth with dog-like reflexes and ate it while grinning. “Stupid.” She muttered under her breath, while smiling, and picking up the envelope. She opened it and a silver screen slid out, only about an inch and a half thick. She laid it on the table and touched the Steel Door Incorporated or SDI button, on the bottom of the screen.
A rod slid out of the top and paused, then unfolded into a rod sticking up. The top blinked and suddenly a red beam shot out, rotating around the room. Nikolas and Natalie acted as though nothing strange were happening, Nikolas eating and Natalie drinking freshly poured coffee. The beam disappeared and a mechanical voice stated “Room is secure.” And then the rod folded up and slid back into the panel. Now the screen came on and SDI blinked in the middle for a moment, then their head officer’s face appeared on the screen. “Good morning Natalie, Nikolas. I trust you slept well? Good, good, the more rest you’ve had the better, I always say.” His voice was calming to the nerves, he was a very calm person. Cool and collected, he was very powerful also. “Today’s mission isn’t going to be a walk in the park…then again it may be for you two, with you two I can never tell. Here are some diagrams of a house/museum that we want you two to get into.” He disappeared and some blue diagrams showed up, then layouts of a very large mansion. “Nikolas pay attention!” Natalie pointed and he groaned, but leaned over and listened.
“An artifact that the Elder Ones have stolen from us is there. We need it back, this artifact holds within it the very map to where ever the hell our ancestors buried more of their treasure.” He continued. “Not like we need any more…” Nikolas glanced up at Natalie who shushed him, but she agreed and he knew it. This would be easy, and it was not important. She felt cheated. “But that’s not what I want yo to focus on. Sure it’s important, but I really need you to focus on this man and others.” A picture of a group of museum workers showed up. “They are researchers for the Elder Ones, which specific clan and branch we are not sure, yet. But we believe they attain knowledge of us and are going to use it against us. Some are armed and dangerous, so don’t provoke them or even draw attention to yourself/selves…Natalie.” Nikolas looked up at her again and she grinned.
The message continued for a short while and then he bid them farewell. The panel shut off and Natalie picked it up, tossing it on the counter. It could never be reactivated because once the message came through and shut off, the memory chip containing the message leaked acid which ate through it and all the parts around it; destroying it from the inside out. “Well, guess we better get dressed and started.” Natalie sighed and Nikolas nodded. Both stood up and stretched, then headed to the back to get dressed and stocked up for the mission.
“Nikolas!” Natalie stuck her head out of her door and looked around, then at “his” end of the hallway. He peeked out and she smiled, stepping out of her room in her favorite bra and boxers. “Are we “normal” people today? Or agents?” she wondered and he shrugged. “I guess “normal” today. We’ll check it out first and then if we need to be agents we’ll come back and change. Simple enough.” He shrugged again, putting a shirt on and pulling it over his head. “Oh…then I can’t wear this.” She reached behind herself and unhooked her bra. “Why not?” Nikolas raised a playful eyebrow. “Because of the outfit I’m wearing today you pervert!” Natalie waved him away and went into her room again.
“What are you packing?” Nikolas wondered, walking into Natalie’s room and glancing at her. She continued to stuff shit into a side-saddle pack that had the Evil Queen from Snow White on the front of it. “Shit I may need…and why the hell are you in my room?” she turned around to face him with a glare. “I’m not really sure why I’m in here…oh well.” He shrugged as he looked at her bed. “Okay, let’s go.” She shut the flap to her bag and buckled it, then put it on and turned to face him. Nikolas looked back at her and over her outfit: she had on thigh short, frayed, holy, jean shorts that were skin tight. She had on a skin tight, black tube-top that she was about to bust out of. On it was the evil queen from Snow White again, but it said in glittery, red letters above her: I’m NO Princess. She had on black, high-top Converse with mis-matching shoelaces and her hair was left down and hung about her waist. As usual a black choker was around her neck with a silver dragon medallion resting on her collar bone.
Nikolas licked his lips, “Shut the hell up and keep a ten-foot distance.” Natalie’s face went blank as she shoved past him and walked out. “Hey!” he went after her, laughing to himself. He met her outside down in the parking lot, readjusting his knapsack on his shoulder. “We taking the bike today? Please!” he was almost bouncing up and down, like an immature kid. “With as horny as you are today?” Natalie looked him over. “Uh…let me think-oops! I don’t even need to think on it! NO!” She walked to their Ferrari and dug in her purse for her keys. “Aww come on…I’ll cool it, I swear.” He put a hand over his heart and put the other to the car door to stop her. “You can.” She muttered still looking for the keys. “Goddammit! Where are they?!” she cried out, her head almost being swallowed by the bag. “What? Oh…these?” Nikolas grinned and held up the keys. “You!” Natalie jerked her head up and dropped her bag, buckling it while staring at him viciously. “Ride the bike…or I throw them in the gutter.” He grinned and looked down at the drain he was standing over. “Argh! Damn you!” Natalie growled and stomped her foot. “We have to get going…hurry…I feel my fingers slipping…” Nikolas almost laughed at the rage on Natalie’s face. “Bah! I hate you!” she shouted and stormed to the bike. “Yes! Score: 1 for me 0 for you!” Nikolas laughed and tossed her the keys. She caught them without even looking; he jumped on the motorcycle and put his helmet on as she straddled the bike behind him and put her helmet on too. “I’ll get you for this. I’ll take my scissors and cut off your…” Natalie grumbled, but suddenly the bike lurched forward, reviving to life. “Hold on Nat!” Nikolas laughed as they pulled into the streamline of traffic. He loved doing that to her, because she always grabbed him really tight.
“We’re here.” Nikolas shut the bike off and pulled off his helmet, shaking his head like a dog. “Sneaky little bastard…I refuse to forgive you ever again.” Natalie kept muttering to herself as she pulled off her helmet and stood up. She ran her hands through her hair, closing her eyes and sighing tiredly. A car went by and the boys in it whistled, she flipped them off and turned her back to them. “Let’s get this over with, come on asshole.” She started up the steps. “Okay, queen of the bitches.” Nikolas rolled his eyes and followed her, she laughed and nodded, “Don’t you know it!” she smiled and he laughed also, shaking his head.
“I hate museums…”Natalie muttered to Nikolas as they walked in and looked around. “Why?” he raised an eyebrow and laughed at her. “They’re so freakin quiet…I hate it! And they all are nothing but memories of the dead and gone; of the wasted years. They give me the creeps.” Natalie hugged herself and shivered. “Oooh…the scary museums are coming to get you Nat!” Nikolas joked, hissing in her ears. “Knock it off! I’m serious!” she shoved him away as he laughed to himself, once again shaking his head. “And yet, you are the girl who would spend all her time in a cemetery if she could. Ironic, no?” he laughed and she shoved him again. “In cemeteries you don’t have relics of the trashed past and you don’t have these…horrible…wax figures staring at you like corpses.” She pointed out as Nikolas paused to stare at a wax figure of a plantation slave from the south. “I thought you liked corpses Nat.” he commented causally, entranced by the figure for some reason. “I do, but not ones like these wax figures…wait…” she turned to him, anger flashing across her eyes. “Why are we discussing my fears?! It’s none of your damned business!” she folded her arms over her chest. “You were the one who brought it up! Hey Nat! Wait up bitch!” he walked after her as she turned the corner into a gallery. “They’re here…go greet our guest…”
“Is it just me,” Nikolas started to look around, into the hallways instead of at the junk. “Or did you also notice that no one’s here, but…us…” he muttered. “Probably nothing, who comes to museums anyways? This place probably stays deserted all year long.” Natalie shrugged, gazing at a portrait of a woman reclining on a couch. “No, normally old people in the least are here…Nat, something’s up.” He shook his head and touched her hand lightly. She looked down at their hands, then him, he was staring this way and that down the hallway. “Oh…did I scare you with my talk of museums?” she giggled and he turned and looked at her. “No stupid, something isn’t right. I’m telling you, something’s up!” he snapped and she laughed, turning back around and glancing at the pictured. “You are so paranoid. Come on, the artifact should be this way.” Natalie pointed to a map of the museum and then started walking to her left. Nikolas looked around, then followed her, ears listening to anything and everything.
“Oh my gods Nick watch out!” Natalie suddenly cried out and Nikolas ducked. She doubled over with laughter as he stood up straight again, trying to maintain his dignity. “Your face! Oh my god that was priceless!” she laughed, pointing at him. “Shut up! Stop laughing your ass off and come on!” he started to move, but froze. Natalie stood up, wiping a tear away. “What? You gonna try it on me now?” she laughed, then froze also, pulling her ears back and listening to the noise. She moved her head to the right, narrowly avoiding a bullet. “Bitches…” she hissed and spun around, glaring at the four guys behind her. “Any ideas Natalie?!” Nikolas wondered and Natalie nodded as the guys split up and hid from them. “They’re planning an ambush!” Nikolas shouted as she ran forward, “I know! You want my idea?” she turned around really quick and grinned at him. He saw her flash her canines at him, a light playing in her eyes that he knew all too well. “Fight them to the death! Now this is what I came for, not some stupid artifact!” she thrust a fist into the air, then turned around and disappeared from his view. He laughed and shook his head, but another bullet was shot at him. He ducked it and spun on the guy, “Alright dude, that’s getting kinda annoying!” he shouted and launched a punch, knocking the guy into a statue.
“Where are you friends? Don’t you want to play…?” Natalie had her hand inside her purse as she walked very slowly, looking around every corner excitedly. “Now, just a minute ago you were all excited to play with us…now you won’t even come out! Come on…” she looked around, pausing and sighing disappointedly. “Well, you’re better at hiding then I thought, I’ll admit.” She nodded as though she had accepted defeat. Someone dropped from the ceiling behind her, she froze, picking up on their feet lightly touching the floor. “Ello friend…” she grinned and turned around. “Are you going to fight with me?” she pleaded and he shrugged, then aimed a gun at her. “Oooh, nice toy…here’s mine.” She tugged out one that was even smaller and he laughed. “Yeah, yeah, I know…it’s pathetic…but check this new feature out!” she grinned insanely and shot him. “You stupid idiot, you can’t pull that bullet out of your body.” She laughed as the man tried to pull the bullet out. “That’s ultraviolet light in there! Check this out,” she watched his veins begin to bulge…his skin became drawn tightly and you could see the skeleton under it. The deadened veins were already not use to pumping stuff through them, but the light was ten times harder to pump through then blood (because it was thicker), so his body began straining itself. He gasped for air, clawing at his throat and chest, his insides felt like they were on fire. Soon his eyes rolled into the back of his head to where you could see nothing but the glossy white undersides of them. His mouth opened in fear, ready to utter out a dying command or scream, but only a gargle came. The light went straight to your voice box first, burning it out, then it went to your other vital organs, then your lungs, and finally your heart…giving you the slowest possible, and most painful death. Natalie finished cleaning from under her nails and glanced at the dead corpse. “Took you long enough, geeze…” she walked over and nudged it with her foot. “The world’s most perfect mummy.” She giggled to herself, took his gun and tucked it into her purse, then tucked her own back in. She then began searching for the other three. See, fights to her, were really big games, and she always had to come out on top. Kill your opponent in the most gruesome way, if possible, if not, then blow his head off and make sure a lot of blood is spilled.
To Be Continued…