Slightly edited as of August 7th, 2018, 2pm CEST.
Manhattan was on fire. Every block in the district was figuratively and literally in flames. Red, hot smoke erupted from more than a few buildings, and plain chaos inhabited the streets. The people were screaming out of sheer terror and ran in panic without further goal. They just wanted to get away. Away from whatever curse that was spreading rapidly throughout the city. The civilians ran while military groups fortified on the scene, putting bullets in anyone that looked the slightest suspicious. They fired their guns over and over, with little to no rest in between shots. The kills didn't please them the slightest however. Their eyes and firearms might've been focused on the many infected limping back and forth in the park in front of them, but their minds were in an entirely different place. More or less subconsciously, they were constantly scanning the environment for a bigger price. The price their boss called ZEUS. It was their key to success and a greatness they could only imagine. What they didn't know was that this 'object' was far away from their location.
Far away, both figuratively and literally.
The said boy flinched at the calling of his name where he sat on a crate out in the hallway. A big yawn decorated his face as he slid down to the floor and headed to his left. He stopped in a doorway to inspect the room before him. To his right, pushed into the corner, were a big desk with loads of papers and folders neatly stacked in piles, post-it notes scrambled here and there, and a laptop. Desmond had always wondered why the brit used a laptop instead of a stationary PC. He would be able to surf the web so much faster with a more powerful computer. The said man was sitting on a rather uncomfortable-looking chair at the desk with his eyes focused on the screen. Desmond shifted his sight forward at the sound of rustling, and saw a raven-head searching through multiple drawers on the desk at the center of the room that she had claimed as hers. She mumbled while lifting papers, books and folders, and didn't seem to even have noticed Desmond coming in. He cleared his throat to get the female's attention.
"Rebecca, you called?" he asked curiously. Upon seeing her stressed expression when she looked up at him, his brows furrowed, and his stomach clenched. "What-" he started, but was interrupted by the opening of a door on the opposing side of the room. An equally distressed blonde entered and slammed the door shut behind her.
"Desmond, there's no time. Pick what you need and get to the van" the blonde scolded as she hurriedly helped Rebecca find whatever she was searching for. Knowing he wouldn't get much information out of the two females in their state, he turned to face the Brit, but found him shoving down his laptop into a satchel. He had painted on the usual stern expression he always wore, but Desmond noticed a tension as he zipped the satchel close and threw it over his shoulder. He groaned silently and followed the older man out of the room, down two flights of stairs and up to their gray minivan. The girls weren't far behind and the four of them were soon seated.
"Mind telling me where we're headed now?" Desmond asked, a bit annoyed, when they were on the road a few minutes later. Both of the girls looked at him, then at each other, and then back at him. His stomach clenched again, and he frowned. "Lucy?" he demanded, glaring at her with a stern scowl. She frowned back and just said they had to go. Desmond snorted at this and looked away. He always got the same answer. 'We need to go, there's no time.' 'We need to keep hidden.' 'Hurry Desmond!' Always on the run and in need to hide. He threw a look in the rear-view mirror to try and catch a glimpse of the brit's expression. Nothing but those cold eyes focused on the road ahead. With a deep sigh, he gave up and settled down in his seat. His eyelids were suddenly heavy, and very soon, he had fallen into a peaceful sleep.
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A New ManhattanFanfiction
Alex Mercer, amnesiac, is trying to find out what happened to him and what he has become since waking up in a morgue. Desmond Miles, suffering from post traumatic stress, needs to get over his fears in order to save the world. Will they find streng...