Chronicles of Myth Volume One: Twisted Daydreams

Scene Three

Outside it rained and thundered, I sat back in the chair and took a deep sigh. “End of Audio Recordings: 001 and 002”. The laptop home screen appeared as I closed out of the media player, I reached for my smartphone and hooked into the port. An error prompt showed up on the screen requesting for a password, “Guess were doing this the hard way”; I unlocked my phone and opened the utility app, scrolling down the list I found the bypass command and tapped it. The screen in front of me turned black and a feather trapped in a tornado, appeared in its place, when the emblem disappeared there was a serpentine network of data conduits. Before we proceed with the hacking procedure, I’d like to tell you: the bypass feature is a bitch to work with if you don’t know what you’re looking for. Arranging the conduits to flow into the main lock, and the second layer unlocked: a circular grid with a timer in the center, I took a quick look around the abandoned study and saw camouflaged explosives strapped to the walls blinking faster and faster as the clocked ticked to zero. I aligned the conduits and directed the flow of data to the center lock, with the press of the spacebar: the timer stopped. An interactive message played, as I opened the file directory. “Ashton, I knew it only be a matter of time before you found my trail: I hope you understand what you’re getting yourself into. The prompt appeared on the screen, Y/N? “Yes, I do”. I clicked yes, “Good, I’m proud to see you become a strong warrior; but tell me something what you do fight for in this life… Ashton; ask yourself why did you did you choose this life”? Secondly, how has this change affected you as a person”? “Lastly, what matters most to you”? I’ll expect your answers when we meet in the near future. I moved all the files to my smartphone and the laptop’s battery burnt out triggering the home’s security system; I grabbed my smartphone as I heard a whir behind me, I sprang out of the chair pushing it aside, I hopped over the desk and took cover behind it; above me a hail of bullets went flying over my head and turned the window into Swiss cheese, I rolled out of cover as the desk and laptop were turned to detritus, I ran toward the side door, I turned the knob; as the door creaked open I saw a shotgun barrel aimed at my chest, I slammed the door shut and put my back to the wall, with loud bang a titanium slug tore the door, I disarmed the trap with my smartphone and dismounted the shotgun, taking the six reserve slugs; I walked down the side foyer and took cover at the last doorframe on the right, I peeked out and saw the sentry turret; I took a shot and the slug ripped the turret off the tripod, I walked down the hallway and peeked out the window; I saw an armored van roll in the courtyard, “Shit… I hate Mondays”. An armored trooper got a megaphone and barked out orders from the sidelines, then he addressed the stillness in the house; “Come quietly with your hands up”! I walked down the staircase, as he repeated the command; I heard outside the sounds of automatic rifles being cocked and loaded, the rifles send out an eerie, guttural chime indicating they’re ready for action. “We will open fire, you have the count of five to surrender”. I counted ten men outside including the commanding officer looking from the window, I scanned through the front doors with my smartphone, and shorted out the rifles; I armed the electrified grate under their feet to trigger with my phone, I stepped outside with my arms up smartphone in hand; “Put your weapon down”! The armored trooper barked at me, I dropped the shotgun in my right hand, the shotgun hit the rough stone with a clang; my firing squad pulled on their triggers with no avail. I clicked the face of the screen and the floor in front of me sparked to life with five hundred thousand volts, they screamed in agony, as their brains were being fried in their own fluids; when the electricity cut out my attackers were burnt to a crisp, with armor and weapons melded into their skin as molten slag and circuits; the smell of the rain soon washed out the scent of burning flesh, I picked up the shotgun feeling danger nearby; in front of me was a towering beast of a man clad in metal armor packing serious heat, whether you could call the thing in front of me human is relative to you; he loaded in a fresh drum of bullets for its minigun, slapping the drum guard in place the barrel spun firing out stream of bullets, he squeezed the trigger and underneath his helmet I could see his determination, his hatred for my kind, as I met his eyes, I took cover behind a stone column and crouched next to the walling at its base; moving to the steps that led into the courtyard the stream of bullets stopped, I peeked out and took a shot as he reloaded another drum, the slug hit him in the chest ripping off a defensive plate, I cocked the pump and put another slug in the chamber; vaulting over the wall, I shot out his legs making him kneel; in desperation he raised his minigun and I blew off his weapon along with half his arm,  I rammed the stock into his chest and took another shot puncturing through the plate, I positioned the barrel over his head and looked at the fear in his eyes; “You and your buddies fucked with the wrong people pal”, I chambered the last slug; he looked at me with pleading eyes struggling to breathe; I smiled as I pulled the trigger and watched his head explode all over the stone floor, my eye caught the glint of lens and I stared into the body camera before tearing it off, I looked straight into it and spoke; “We’re tired of you treating us like shit, fae and humans alike; you police, are an affront to everything we’ve worked to accomplish, you’ve forced my hand; this is not your city, where I’m concerned you have no right to bend your will over these people; my people, I am a fae, this is my home, we have lived with humans and we will continue to do so, you’ve outstayed your welcome and it’s time to leave, do you understand me”? I toss the camera to the ground and smashed it with the shotgun, the gun snapped from the impact and I tossed it aside; in the distance I saw a man dressed in black; he bore the symbol of the military police force on his armor, it was evident this one was special, he didn’t come off as a supercilious xenophobe like his brothers in arms; I felt his conviction from where I stood, his belief that the system had fucked up somewhere along the way was on his face, that much was clear; but something was off, in a sense he was worse than his comrades he wasn’t a purist who believed that all other races were inferior to humanity, I could see in his eyes he wanted to annihilate everything that stood contrary to his belief, this meant every iconoclast to his religion, to his faith; that determination scared me the most. The man I was about to fight had heard my message, he accepted my invitation and today he had taken it upon himself to become my executioner, he walked toward me armed with a hand cannon; from where he stood he took aim and fired a warning shot, blowing a crater in the rough dry ground he glared at me with intense hatred and grit his teeth. His eyes were a stormy grey, his gaze met mine; the crystal green in my eyes flared brightly as my blood boiled to a breaking point, I drew my Uzi’s and braced myself for the coming fight; for a moment the world around us held its breath, we felt each other’s anticipation; we thirsted for our ideals to become reality. This battle would be a catalyst for something worse to come; his aura radiated like a winter blizzard, cold; chilling; enticing; but deadly nonetheless, he would have felt me out like a tornado; chaos bundled around a thin eye of peace, our natures were the same but our beliefs were polar opposites. We walked to the center of the empty field, facing each other we felt each other’s anxiety through our breathing; “It’s clear that neither of us wants to fight each other, commander”. The man nodded at my statement, “You are indeed wise; I’d understand why the oppressed innocents look up you, I’d consider you to be the closest thing to be a human compared to the cockroaches I work with”. He said in a caviler tone, the pressure between us escalated scaring off the wildlife; “This is going to get messy, isn’t it”. I asked taking my stance, “Then let’s get down brass tacks”.