This chapter's image is a photo of the Eagles home aka where Hatter is now.
+ not edited (again) +
“Cameron, gang leader of Eagles and server of Hell.” I guessed handshakes weren’t his thing as he tilted a nod in my direction.
“You seem to already know me so there is no point in introducing myself,” I said.
“Very well.” He guided me into a seat and stood across the table. “You’re here about your past. Grim informed me. A news about demon leakings, hm?” He placed his hands down, inching closer. “Lets start with your past first. I will tell you what I know, and that is all I know so do not expect that I have infinite answers.”
I comfortably leaned back in the wooden chair, wanting him to know I was not a tad intimidated. Crossing my arms, I bowed my head for him to carry on.
“What happens in the transformation of the Purge is after the death of one, the search for a new one begins. The proper candidate would have to be a strong hearted individual, advanced skills in fields of multiple academic levels and physical combat. But most of all, they must carry a dark message, it can be despair, revenge, grief—a negative aspect that would forever weigh on their shoulders. Their life must be on the verge of death to be exchanged into the Purge. However, the records show you have minor cases of the dark aspects although you’re excellent in other categories.” He leaned over and tapped my wrist. “It is what’s in here that made you the Purge. It’s in your blood.”
I clutched my wrist, the green veins throbbing at his touch. “What about my blood.”
“Jessie Daniels, your previous form, was born with a drug. This drug gave your body and mind such incredible skills—mutant even. But its effects had their defaults. You developed an alter ego, one without a heart. Those people once existed by the name called Cold Bloods. You were transforming into a monster with no feelings, no soul, no mindset. Your mission was to kill. It is to conclude that overtime, the drug had completely invaded your system and because of this rapidly increasing change, it was too much for your own human body to handle. This led to death. Hell on the other hand, went crazy for your blood—it something like sweet nectar. It made them adore you to such an extent that they chose you to be their Purge.”
It could have taken a while for a human to process this. But my mind worked fast, dialing this information in to make of some use to me. Hell, demons, saved my life. I was going to die. Did that mean I had to return the favour by pursing this killing spree? It was a question I was willing to hold off, greedy for anything else.
“Is there more?” I asked.
He opened a drawer and I watched his fingers dance across thousands of papers, miraculously pulling at one that appeared to be almost at random. He tossed it over, it spinning to stop below my nose.
The bulging folder was held by a string, it neatly tied in a bow that flopped to the right. Carefully pulling, it drooped onto the desk. Here we go… I extended my fingers towards the flap. But his voice left my hand hovering over the unopened folder. “Hatter, things we lose in the past have a way of coming back to us.”
“Unless we can quickly let them go,” I responded. He stayed silent. Lifting the flap, my eyes struggled to swallow the black inked letters that made up only half of a pin. Skimming past, I flipped through, making note to go back to it. Then my gaze landed on a photo pinned to a file.
“He was a notorious gang leader a few years ago,” Cameron said. He stood his ground, fully aware I needed my distance. “He belonged to the Snipers. Has disappeared without a trace since.” I raked over the image, the cautious dark look in his honey eyes taking in his own surroundings as he stepped out of a car. As if he knew someone was watching. “What are his connections related to my file?” I silently read the descriptions, not taking consideration for Cameron’s lack of response. Scanning his gang’s increasing market sales and theories of human lab testing, I finally lifted my head to see Cameron staring hard at the photos. “He tried to kill you.”
Shock sent a pulse through me. “Why on Earth would he do that?”
Cameron’s eyes were still trained on the document. “Because you, as Jessie Daniels, once belonged to his gang. You escaped and I assumed since you were of no use, needed to be eliminated. As well as the fact you were a significant threat to his plans.”
I choked up a laugh. “A threat? What did I do? Kill his cat?”
“You were apparently an old project during the gang’s experiments. It was a rule to exterminate all evidence leading to their operations and labs.”
I flipped to another image of him, his hand reaching for a newspaper. “I was there guinea pig? So what—they poked needles into me and I turned into a mutant.”
“Your parents were earlier experiments. So when they had you, the genes transferred into your blood stream and you were the only fertile offspring. You carried the drug and it affected your system, resulting into exponential inhumane skills such as a viable sixth sense.”
I flipped to the last photo of his document. His pants and shirt were torn, dusted with black and smeared blood. He was leaning in the phone booth, the phone pressed into his ear. His stance held a limp, one side awkwardly supported by the wall. “Is he still alive?”
“We don’t know.”
I jarred this man’s face and continued reading. “Who is this?” I lifted a photo of a different man. I studied his face, the image of him staring straight into the camera. The coldness in his blue eyes had me turn the page.
“He went missing as well,” Cameron said, removing a silver case from the cabinet.
“And what is his importance to me?”
My hand froze at the next image.
“He loved you.”
It was impossible for my eyes to rip from the photo. The sunset beaming behind two heads locked leaning on each other, bumping foreheads. His eyes swam with such admiration that it made my stomach sick. The girl’s gaze matched the deepness of his love, arms wrapped around his neck as he looked to be pulling her closer. “This is a joke,” I snorted, plastering a finger on it. “That girl was me?”
He measured me up from head to toe and made a face. “I know. What happened.” Not missing his intention, I flipped him off and went to the next page.
Yet Cameron wasn’t done talking about my former ex-lover. “He was a formal gang leader for a different group. Initially they were called Eagles Eye.”
My thoughts gradually clicked and I stared up, curious. “But you said you were the Eagles.”
He placed the case in front of me, spinning numbers with his thumb. “Good catch. The majority of us were from The Eagles Eye. We were forced to flee without our leader and bombed home. So we made a home here.” The soft click of it unlocking attracted my attention. “You inspired us to make a home.”
“Me?”
He rested his fingers on the latch, giving me a grateful smile. “Well, Jessie Daniels did. Before you turned into Alice Hatter, Hell’s Personal Purge.”
He lifted the lid and a sense of warmth emitted from the prized possession. “We found this during our travels.” I wanted to pick the gun up but I felt like I wasn’t important enough. Hell, I didn’t think I was suitable to be even eyeballing this beautiful art. Hypnotizing carvings edged along the gun, the gold metal still gleaming. It was protected in a glass box, an example of its true value shown. The numbers 212 were engraved at the handle.
“What a masterpiece,” I said.
“A true beauty,” he agreed.
Then a strange hollow voice echoed. "Hellooooo. Anyone home?"
The Eagles reached for their guns at the strange voice pitched from the ground. Cameron caught the gun thrown to him and pulled a chain. A silent buzz rang through the trees. Quickly, I ripped out a specific paper and closed the files, stuffing the sheet in my jacket.
"You know it's funny," the voice said from below. Seconds later their voice got louder. "How you guys are named after birds, hiding in the trees and such."
Cameron motioned several men though the back doors. "Don't you find it funny, my good old friend Cray?" The stranger sounded as if he was just by the wooden bridges.
"I wouldn't say funny," Cameron answered, reloading his second gun that slung around his shoulder. "What's funny is that you still call me by my childish name."
Laughter sent the hairs up my arm. "Cameron, you even said so yourself. You'll never grow up."
"People change," he said, taking slow steps towards the door. "Markets fall. Friends disappear. Loved ones die.”
The man’s voice chuckled, signaling a wave of nervous tingles. Where was Isaac and Grim? This strange panicking feeling was a nerve wrack, and I leaned through the window, seeing the Eagles hidden in their huts. I failed to see the stranger from this angle.
“Now that’s not a way to treat a guest,” he scolded with a smidge of hilarity.
“You’re not a guest and you’re not welcome here.”
“But your home is my home.”
“Not anymore,” Cameron icily said.
“What a pity. Guess we’re just going to have to break our way in.”
One of the Eagles halted and nervously whispered, “We?”
An explosion blew up the treehouse beside us. Screams were dying in the smoke and everything sharpened. The squeak of the board above had my feet leap to the side, dodging the falling object. A snarl released from where I was seconds ago, and I shielded the dust from my eyes. Struggling to see, an eight foot skinny humanlike thing was snarling. It’s bones stuck out, the wrinkled white skin tightening against it. Grim burst through the door, eyes frantically settling on the creature. The demon bent it’s legs, eyes wandering around the room until it found Cameron.
Instinctively, I drove my elbow threw the glass, reaching in for the gun. "That's not yours!" an Eagle shouted, aiming his gun.
Cray placed a hand on his friend. "No. Let her."
The gun warmed up in my tight grasp. It was either that or the sweat thickening across my skin.
"Shoot God dammit!" Grim shouted as the tree began to rumble.
Before I could load, the roof caved in on us, another thin skinned demon falling on Grim. My thumb flicked over and I pulled down hard as I could. A golden flash zipped out the barrel, rippling through the demon’s chest, a clean pierce through the heart. Then the flash returned, sucking back into the barrel with a soft click.
"It looks like you know how to use that," Cameron said with a knowing smile.
Grim spun his scythe in his hand, bringing it down on the next demon. The third one cannoned through the window, landing on four legs with tiny jagged teeth. I fired two bullets, it’s head cracking backwards to then wobble forward, claws now springing out. My feet swiftly leaped on the desk edge and I bounced up, nailing a kick through it’s head to then swipe my dagger out, slicing its head off. Grabbing it by the limp hair, I swung it Cameron’s way, bowling an attacking demon to the floor.
Positioned to counter, the next attacker emerged with casual strides, the gun targeted on my heart. His blond hair was a mess, blood already splattered across his lips.
He saw me first. His weapon hung in the air, his pause collecting my gaze. Then it clicked.
His black coal eyes shifted, swirling into greys, white and then an icy, soul withering blue.
He was the man in the sunset photo.
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This chapter's image is a photo of the Eagles home aka where Hatter is now.
I woke up to find this story ranked #1 in Horror. Thank you so much! I’d rather not annoy you all with the moment but let’s just say it was amazing! Thank you thank you thank you!
Update tomorrow!
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