Today marks the start for a new posting schedule. New chapters will be coming out on a weekly basis with Tuesday being the standard posting day. I hope this will work out smoothly even as time goes on. We'll see how the future plays out.
Reader warning: chapter contains slight FxF hints.
He'd lost count on how many people he'd devoured in the last two minutes. More and more memories had filled his mind, whispers and screams of death drowning each other. The pain and images faded, but the godforsaken wrench in his gut still persisted. It wouldn't leave him alone, and it was driving him crazy. He couldn't get his mind straight - thoughts were wreaking havoc and spinning up a tornado in his head. Dana's words were still echoing like a distant reminder of how much she would hate him for all he'd done if she found out. He recalled the fear he'd seen in her eyes when he'd barged into the apartment the days prior. 'Monster', he thought. He was a monster with no name and no mercy. He had an alias - a codename, but that was all. He was Zeus. The monster that the militia wanted dead.
A blind rage filled his senses, and before he could realize what he was doing, his fist collided with the wall of a building. Soon after came his other fist. Again and again, until the wall gave in to his strength. As the dust settled, a headache whipped his temples. "I don't see them punching holes into walls". He had to find a distraction from whatever mental disease he'd picked up. It was too early to go back and pretend to be some military man on a mission. They were still searching for him, he knew that, and he knew he couldn't go back to the hideout. His old apartment? No, that place was blown to bits.
He'd just have to enjoy himself until things calmed down. Enjoy himself as the monster he was. Central Park was dwindling with life at dawn, and the opportune place to have some fun. A cruel grin spread in his face.
Just a few blocks away, an old couple were cleaning up the floors and tables of their restaurant. The man in his late eighties were wiping the counter with a moist towel while his wife used a mop to clean any dust from the checkered floor. They'd been running this place all by themselves for many years now, and they both took equal responsibility to keep it up. Though, with half of the island's residence setting up a rebellion against the authorities, they didn't get as many guests as they used to. Nevertheless, they liked to keep things neat and tidy. Cleaning the restaurant was part of their daily routines.
"Martha, clean off table three, would you? I think I forgot that one" the man called to his wife. She looked up at him with a smile and nodded. The mop was put away inside the cleaning cabinet in the kitchen before she grabbed a towel to dust off and clean the table with. As per usual, she sat down on the chair next to the window to start wiping. As she did, movement in the corner of her eye caught her attention. She looked out the window with peaked curiosity to spot a few figures across the broad street.
"George dear, come look at this. I think they're playing in that movie again" she called while squinting at the figures outside. He walked up to her and looked over her shoulder to see what she was looking at. He too squinted a little and pushed up his squared glasses on his nose to see better. After a moment of inspection, he grunted.
"Well well, would you look at that. Kids are playing outside instead of watching their screens all day" he muttered. She nodded thoughtfully and pushed up her small, rounded glasses on her nose. She noticed how one of them played along wilder than all the others. It almost looked like a game of tag, except he tagged all of them one by one. She was curious at this.
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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...