Fate's Vinculum

By QueenStarbuck

827 61 114

vin·cu·lum Origin: mid 17th century (in the sense 'bond, tie'): from Latin, literally 'bond', from vincire 'b... More

Dedications
Part I, Chapter 1. The Beginning
Part II, Chapter 1. The Assassin
Chapter 2.
Chapter 4.
Chapter 5.
Chapter 6.
Chapter 7.
Chapter 8.
Chapter 9.
Chapter 10.
Chapter 11.
Part III, Chapter 1. The Vampire
Chapter 2.
Chapter 3.
Chapter 4.
Chapter 5.
Chapter 6.
Chapter 7.
Chapter 8.
Part IV, Chapter 1. Ghosts
Chapter 2.
Chapter 3.
Chapter 4.
Part V, Chapter 1. The Angels
Chapter 2.
Chapter 3.
Chapter 4.
Chapter 5.
Chapter 6.
Chapter 7.
Part VI, Chapter 1. Angelus Supreme
Chapter 2.
Chapter 3.
Chapter 4.
Chapter 5.
Part VII, Nevermore
Part VIII, Chapter 1. Coming Together
Chapter 2.
Chapter 3.
Part IX, Chapter 1. The Underside
Chapter 2.
Chapter 3.
Chapter 4.
Chapter 5.
Chapter 6.
Epilogue
A [Weird] Note From Sarah

Chapter 3.

31 4 2
By QueenStarbuck

Einar was sleeping, dreaming about an expansive field filled with bright yellow flowers. He wandered aimlessly, the field never ending. In the distance he could see a girl dressed in a white dress, long brown hair blowing in the gentle breeze. Yet no matter how long he walked towards her he never got any closer. Finally he gave up trying to reach her, sitting down and picking the yellow flowers.

Wake up, a voice-the voice from his childhood that had spoken to him as his family was slaughtered-said. He hadn't heard it since that night. Immediately the dream ended and Einar opened his eyes.

He was horrified to find a man standing over his bed.

"Either you come with me," the man said, "or I kill your entire family."

This man was dressed in the exact fashion as the people who had killed his family and burned down his house. He was covered head to toe in black, wearing a mask that had a slit for the eyes. Terror dripped throughout Einar's body, making his veins rivers of ice. There was no way he was going to let anything happen to his elderly parents.

"Can I...Can I at least write them a letter?" he asked hopefully.

The man seemed to mull it over. Einar got the distinct impression that a smirk formed beneath the mask.

"No. Let's go."

Not knowing what else to do, Einar slid out of bed.

He was led outside where someone soundlessly sneaked up behind him. A blindfold was placed over his eyes, a rag gagging him. Roughly he was led down to a dock and shoved on a boat. Once aboard the gag was removed, but his hands were tied in front of him.

During the entire voyage he was kept blindfolded. He was given food, water, and provided a bed to sleep on. Einar asked his captors who they were, but he never received a response. He never knew how many were on the boat with him, only hearing muffled whispers as he tried to sleep occasionally through his tears.

Night and day passed without his knowledge. After a while (days? A week?) they ported. Einar was again gagged, this time being led to a plane. He was stowed away in a private cabin, still blindfolded. As the plane took off he cried, equally from the pain in his ears and surmising he was never going to see home again. When they landed (he still had no perception of time) he was led off the plane, blindfold finally removed.

Einar blinked against the harsh sun. He had no idea where he was. He surmised he was in a different country; they were in a jungle, the airstrip carved out of the dense forest. It was hot and humid, conditions that he immediately despised. Two guards had taken him by either arm-they were young men, one appeared to be Asian of some sort, the other Caucasian. They began to lead him down the path, birds crying loudly overhead. In the distance, the sound of rushing water could be heard.

"Where are we?" Einar tried. When they didn't respond it dawned on him they probably didn't speak Icelandic.

He was led to a large building. It looked like some sort of institution, perhaps a prison. Guards, also dressed in black from head to foot with machine guns slung over their shoulders, stood at the double doors. Without warming the wooden doors swung inward and Einar was led inside.

He was dumbfounded, taking everything in. People milled about everywhere, more people than he had seen in his entire life. More surprising was the fact that many of the people were children, early teens. Everyone wore the same black clothes, and many of the children wore backpacks and carried books.

Every race was here, every walk of life-old and young, men and women. What also shocked Einar was the fact that most of the adults, and even some of the children, carried weapons openly. Guns, knives, swords; if it was a weapon that could be found somewhere in the world, he saw someone carrying it.

The architecture was pristine, sterile. The walls were all gunmetal grey, highly polished. The doors were steel, windowed. As he was led around, Einar furtively glanced into the rooms. Confusion swept over him, surprised to catch glances of classrooms where teachers stood at the front, giving lectures. There also appeared to be conference rooms, with long metal tables and power-point presentations depicting maps of buildings and places Einar didn't recognize.

The building itself was huge. The layout reminded him of Kringlan, the shopping mall back home in Reykjavík. Multiple floors made up the building; glass panels with steel railings were on the steps, each floor having glass paneling at waist height so people wouldn't fall. At one point Einar slowed down his gait, openly staring at some students meticulously cleaning the glass. One of them caught him watching and glared. Looking over his shoulder still at the teens cleaning, Einar hurried to catch up.

He was led up to the fifth floor, the top floor of the building. He was already lost; had it not been for his escorts he wouldn't have even known how to get back to the main entrance. Einar was taken to the very last room. As they approached an ominous, unwelcome feeling crawled into the pit of his stomach and stayed there. His captors knocked on the shut metal door.

"Enter," a male voice said in English from inside.

The guard on his left opened the door, gesturing for Einar to enter the room first. After a moment's hesitation he complied. The two guards filed in after him and shut the door.

Immediately in front of Einar sat a desk, a desk he would grow to hate. Sitting behind the gunmetal furniture was a man in a suit. He was good looking, with a strong jawline and a tan. Thick golden hair sat on top green eyes. He had a cleft chin, and his age was hard to discern; Einar placed him around forty, but maybe deceptively older.

"This is Einar?" the man asked.

"Yes," the Asian responded in English.

"Excellent. You can go now."

The two escorts bowed and left the room. Dismally Einar watched them go before turning back to the man who was grinning at him, looking him up and down. In spite of himself, Einar whimpered quietly and wrapped his arms around himself.

"Welcome!" the man said, switching to Icelandic. Einar was astonished. "I hope your journey here was to your liking?" The man's speech was unrefined, and his syntax was off, but he was understandable.

"Who are you?"

"You may call me X," he replied.

Tears stung Einar's brown eyes, but he refused to cry. "Why have you brought me here?"

X stood and came around the desk, leaning against it. "I knew your father, actually. Your biological father, anyway. He used to work for me. He sent you here; it's what he wanted."

A headache was quickly forming behind Einar's eyes. "What are you talking about? My father-my father was a fisherman, he's always been a fisherman. He's lived in Iceland all his life-"

"Ah," X interrupted, "he never told you about his life before you and your sister were born?"

Einar took a step back. Everything seemed wrong. This had to be a nightmare, some horrible, extended nightmare. "Before I was born? He's lived in Eyrarbakki his entire life-"

X picked up a paperweight from off his desk, rolling it in between his hands. "Of course, of course that's what he told you. He'd want to shelter you and your sister from his actual life."

Einar narrowed his eyes. "I told you what his actual life was-"

X came over. To the boy's horror he put a hand on his shoulder, looking at him sympathetically. "This might be hard for you to swallow, but your father was not always a fisherman. He trained here, just as you will be trained-just like he wanted."

"Trained? For what? I don't understand." Einar's breathing began to come out in short gasps. "I don't believe you. He never mentioned-he didn't tell me-we never discussed-"

"Of course not," X replied. Einar cringed as X slung an arm around his shoulders and opened the door, leading him back out into the hallway. "It's a ghastly line of work-not appropriate to talk about with small children. But he was good at what he did, and he wanted you, his only son, to follow in his footsteps."

X led Einar over to an indoor courtyard. Their vantage point looked out over the main entrance and hall. It was a bustling area, and Einar was surprised at seeing from a bird's eye view just how many people he had passed when he first arrived. Several students looked up, either waving or saluting to X. The man smiled, arm still around Einar, and waved down at the people. He then looked at Einar and gave him a smile that made Einar's stomach flip in fear.

"Welcome to The Compound, Einar."

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