Black

Written by Red, read more of his stuff here. http://www.writerscafe.org/Virak123

A soft rain fell upon the city of London, not that such weather was unusual to the city or its inhabitants. After all, the United Kingdom was famous for its infamously wet and cold weather. That still didn’t stop Londoners from enjoying the city’s famous nightlife. Of course, only the best clubs were in located in the rather shady areas of the city; places everyone intentionally forgot about yet remembered the moment they needed a bit of fun in their lives. It was at the club known as Club Virizon that one Nero Katz found himself at. He honestly didn’t like dance clubs, as he was more of a bar and pub man but, for the sake of his mission, he had to endure. His black trenchcoat, not unlike those once worn by Great War soldiers, kept him warm and protected against the sky’s steady rain, with his black beanie covering his dark brown hair. Aviators covered his eyes, a trademark of his as he never parted with them; partly because he hated people making such a big fuss over his heterochromia eyes. 

As he approached the club, the soft thrum of music resonating out of the doors, Nero double-checked himself to make sure his equipment was all there and ready. His cell (something he never let go of) sat in his breast pocket, along with his pack of smokes; at one point he may have had to worry about cancer, but with the discovery of the miracle substance known as Dust, he’d stopped worrying about such things. His earpiece, delivered to him in an unmarked package, sat in his ear yet covered by his beanie was unnoticeable. Most important of all, Nero’s gun sat in the crossdraw holster under his right arm, exactly where it belonged. He could never go anywhere without his baby, his specially modified custom C96 Mauser. The weapon had been modified to chamber 10mm rounds, a round much more adapt at piercing body armour than the original .45 caliber. The weapon also had what most would deem incredibly impractical; a large yet elegant blade extended from the barrel, perfect in case Nero ever needed to get up close and dirty. It also helped that the blade could be switched to act like a traditional bayonet as well.

Nero arrived at the door, a long line of older teens and twenty-somethings extending away from Club Virizon’s door. Thanks to some forethought and preparation on his partner’s initiative, Nero was able to skip the line and enter without any hassle, much to the complaints of several already drunk and high potential club goers. It helped that he was friends with the club’s owner Tukson. The man was well-known thanks to his club being one of the most succesful in London and the fact that he was also a dealer in rare antiques, particularly books (Nero always found that aspect of the club owner strangely funny). However, while Nero always liked Tukson’s company, he was unfortunately not here for a visit. Rather, he was here to meet someone, a woman from what he’d been told. While the club was filled with a swarming and gyrating mob of people, Nero could always point out those who didn’t belong; he always thought of himself as special that way, though growing up on the streets of the rougher areas of London helped certainly helped.

Sure enough, he spotted his needle in the hay stack and oh, how much did she stand out. The woman looked very out of place in her outfit, with her white zip-up shirt and black pants standing out amidst the much more casual clothes of the other club goers. Nero noticed several frills to her outfit as well, namely the black curved fabric hanging from her belt with the purple fabric under that. The bow on her head completed the unorthodox look. Nero wasn’t really one to judge however, after all he WAS wearing a old-fashioned trenchcoat with aviators and black beanie in a nightclub after all. He decided to approach the woman, cautiously of course; he’d had one too many bad situations stemming from throwing caution to the wind. Edging closer, he noticed that this woman was reading a book, one hell of a tough task in a place filled with loud music and yelling people; he also had to grin when he noticed that the book she happened to be holding was Fifty Shades Of Grey. Even a woman with an air such as her’s couldn’t get away from reading such novels.

Walking up to her, Nero tapped her on the shoulder. “Hello, are you Miss Belladonna?” The girl nearly jumped out of her seat, also startling Nero. Now that he got a closer look, Nero realized that this girl had amber cat-like eyes, eyeshadow the colour of a light purple flaring at the edges of her eyes,
“Gah! Yes, yes I am. My name is Blake Belladonna” the girl said, extending her hand in greeting. Nero reciprocated the gesture before taking a seat across from her. Waving over one of the bar tenders, Nero ordered a bottle of Corona for himself; Blake declined any beverage. As Nero waited, he reached into his jacket and withdrew a thick manila envelope, sliding it across the table towards the cat-like girl. She took it and slid out the contents, her eyes rapidly flicking back and forth absorbing its contents. While Nero had a feeling that the girl in front of him wasn’t entirely legitimate, he had no idea what the envelope contained or who she actually worked for. He shrugged mentally to himself; it never hurt to ask.

“I have a question” Nero said, gaining the girl’s attention. 

“Besides being told to meet you, I have no idea who the hell you are or what's in the envelope. Mind filling me in?” he asked, quietly hoping for an actual response. The girl studied him for what seemed like eternity, her amber eyes boring into his soul. Finally, she smiled and released a small chuckle.

“I’m not surprised. Adam doesn’t necessarily like outsiders knowing our business” Nero looked at her quizzically. He’d already begun trying to connect the dots, assuming everything from the woman in front of him being part of the Mafia to some super-secret organization. She laughed some more as she watched the gears turn behind Nero’s non-visible eyes, a sly frown on his face.

“If you really want to know, I’m with the White Fang. Adam is my partner and my commander; I’m his second-in-command” With that little revelation, the situation that Nero found himself in took on a whole new light. Being part of the London underground, he was well-versed in the details of the group that was the White Fang. It had apparently been peaceful once, protesting against the increasing control several massive multinational corporations were extending over the world and its governments. It had been the largest peaceful group of its kind, that is until the Labour Day Massacre. Everyone knew the details of the incident by now; it had spread like wildfire across every channel all over the world. The Mistrali Corporation and Atlesian Industries, two of those aforementioned multinationals, had decided that they didn’t really like having protesters show up at their doors every day. So, they’d dispatched the famous defense contractor known as Vytal Security to disrupt the demonstrations being held at their massive joint corporate office in Chicago. One thing had lead to another and the next thing anyone knew four VS members stood with their rifles smoking and at least fifty demonstrators dead. It didn’t help matters much that whoever was unlucky enough to stick around, protestor or no, was rounded up and detained at Vytal’s ‘rehabilitation centre’ on the outskirts of the city. With that and many other incidents, the peaceful regime went out and a much more militant one came in. Now the White Fang fought a guerilla war with the three corporations and their allies, along with being labelled terrorists by both them and much of the world. It didn’t help that the world’s biggest player, the United States, also happened to have the CEO of Atlesian Industries in the White House with virtually no opposition.  Nero still had no idea how that happened exactly, what with democracy and all that, but he figured that as the CEO of one of the world’s biggest business entities you could do pretty much anything.

“Well, that explains all the secrecy about who the hell I was supposed to meet” Nero said as his beer arrived. Taking a drink, he swept his eyes over the area, a practice that had become a force of habit thanks to his line of work. Luckily for him, this particular sweep happened to pay off quite well.

“Miss Belladonna? Don’t mean to interrupt you or anything, but we may have a problem” Nero told the girl, slowly putting down his drink while keeping his targets in range. The White Fang second looked at him with a cocked eyebrow, one borne out of curiosity more than irritation. Nero subtlety indicated to her the trouble in particular. 

“At the bar, two men; one's dressed in a polo and jeans, the others wearing a sweater and cargos. While that may not necessarily be unusual given are location, I’d also like to draw attention to the fact that they don’t carry themselves like clubgoers,” the cocked eyebrow continued, although amber eyes wandered over to the two men Nero described. “When you’ve lived in London your whole life and have had more than a few run-ins with the authorities like I have, you get to know a plain cloth when you see one. Now, judging by how those two are sitting along with the fact that they have guns and that I don’t recognize them as Junior’s boys, it's safe to say they’re not here to party” 

As if one cue, Nero and Blake turned their heads at the sound of commotion coming from outside the club, namely the sound of orders being given and guns being cocked. The shouts and screams of panic also helped set the mood. Before either could react, Club Virizon’s door burst open, having been kicked by a rather large black combat boot. Several armed men in full combat gear with Vector submachine guns filed in, sweeping their guns back and forth to cover the entirety of the club and its occupants. Following them was a man wearing a black tailored suit and overcoat, a matching fedora on his head. By the way he carried himself and the air he gave off, it was clear to Nero that this man was in command.

The suited individual cleared his throat before he spoke, “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen! I am deeply sorry for interrupting your...festivities,” clear disgust obvious on his last word. “My men and I represent Vytal Incorporated; I’m sure that name is familiar. We are here because we have received word that a known terrorist is present in this establishment; I simply seek to bring her in for arrest. If you all cooperate with my men,” the suit flicked his hand forward, causing the soldiers to begin moving through the club. “Than we shall have no problems! Now, if one Miss Blake Belladonna is present, I implore her to turn herself in. I’m sure these people wish to get on with the rest of their night” Nero’s eyes flicked to Blake, who by this point had visibly blanched; it was clear she was having difficulty stopping herself from running. 

“Look, I have a plan” Nero whispered to the girl, snapping her out of her trance. She looked at him expectantly, to which he replied with a simple grin. Before she could ask what exactly the plan was, Nero swiped his beer off the table, took a massive drink and threw it at the suit. The man’s eyes went wide as the unexpected projectile hurtled towards him but he quickly composed himself and withdrew a massive revolver; a S&W 500 if Nero was right. The massive weapon roared, the equally massive round turning the bottle to dust and tearing a large hole into the roof. Both men stared each other down, the soldier’s guns trained on Nero while Blake looked on with a dumbfounded expression. 

“Hiya Ciar! Long time no see!” Nero exclaimed happily. To just about everyone’s confusion, the suited man, or Ciar, began laughing as he lifted off his fedora with one hand.

“Likewise, Nero. Now, is that any way to treat your brother? I was hoping for a card or something” Ciar said, a simple yet sly smirk on his face. Blake’s expression turned to a mixture of shock and anger at the sudden revelation, although Nero made no obvious sign that he noticed. 

“Well, you know, after you turned around, betrayed your friends and brother before selling them out to a company who helps control the world and doesn’t give a shite about its employees aside from their special ‘projects’, its the least I could do” Nero answered, his previously cheery expression turning much darker. Ciar’s face still held the same smirk, although it was clear that there was a much more sinister meaning behind it. 

“You know why I did what I did, Nero. So don’t lecture me. Now, in the interest of time, I’m going to assume that woman with you is Blake Belladonna, correct?” Nero’s expression went unchanged, although Blake’s was now one of horror at the discovery of her identity. It didn’t help her that Ciar’s men had begun steadily moving towards her position.

“Yes” Nero finally answered, Blake’s look of horror only growing worse. It would have been comical had she not been in the current situation.“Well, can I please have her? It wouldn’t look good if I left empty handed”

Nero withdrew his Mauser and levelled it at his brother’s head. “Here’s your bloody answer” he said as he pulled the trigger. The gun bucked as the 10mm round sailed towards Ciar, too fast for him to dodge. The bullet slammed into Ciar’s head, throwing his skull back and causing him to fall to the floor. Before any of the soldiers could react, the two men Nero had pointed out previously lept into action, withdrawing compact submachine guns before they began firing. Nero fired at the men closest to him and Blake before he grabbed her and took off towards one of the back exits.

“Yours?” Nero wheezed as they ran through the club’s backrooms. Blake only offered a nod and a squeeze of Nero’s hand in response. He hadn’t liked shooting his brother, but he needed a way out; his brother was one of the most dangerous people Nero knew and taking him out in a situation such as the one they were currently fleeing from was top priority. Of course, Nero couldn’t help but feel something that he most definitely should not have felt, especially after killing the man who had destroyed his life. He was feeling guilt. Guilt and sorrow at what he had just done, sorrow at the fact he’d just killed his own flesh-and-blood. Nero’s thoughts were interrupted as laughing began emanating from what seemed like all around him. 

“You really thought you could get rid of me that easy? Nero, I’m hurt. But you know what the benefit is to being employed by a company that rules the world?” Before Nero could even process what was happening, both he and Blake were swallowed by the shadows all around them before they were suddenly deposited on the club’s roof. A voice dripping with venom, malice, and insanity whispered in Nero’s ear as he stepped through the void.

“You get upgrades!”

Nero and Blake nearly fell off the roof as their momentum continued to carry them forward. It took both of them nearly falling over before they could stop.“What the hell was that?! That man was your brother! You could have told me before hand!” Blake yelled at him, finally gaining a chance to speak. Nero caught his breath, giving the frazzled girl a look of irritation. 

“If I’d known he was gonna show up tonight, you would have been the first to know. In case you’re wondering about the whole beer bottle thing, I wasn’t expecting him to pull out a f*****g hand cannon and blow it up. I was gonna use that as a distraction then run” Nero told her, composing himself and checking to make sure all his precious equipment was where it should have been. Before Blake could respond, that same sinister voice spoke behind her.

“Clearly that plan worked wonderfully, brother. But like I said, I got upgrades” To the astonishment of both Blake and Nero, Ciar stepped out of the shadows adorning the roof. He appeared fine, with the bullet hole Nero was sure he’d put in his head nowhere to be found. It didn’t take long for the men under Ciar’s command to show up and surround the two trapped escapees. Blake’s face grew paler as she realized how trapped they were, much to Nero’s dismay. “You’re supposed to be the second-in-command for the world’s most wanted terror group? Yeah, great impression so far” Nero scoffed internally, tempted to roll his eyes if they weren’t so trapped.

“Well, you got us bro. We’re pretty much trapped, no way out. What do you want?” he said nonchalantly, much to Ciar’s amusement and Blake’s horror. 

“Simple. Give me Miss Belladonna and you go free” Ciar said confidently, somehow grasping onto the notion that the ties between the brothers was stronger than the ties between two strangers. Much to Ciar’s irritation, however, Nero simply responds with a laugh.

“Ya know, if I was anyone else I’d probably agree,” he said, flashing a grin and winking at Blake. 

“Of course, I’m me though. So I guess you're s**t out of luck” Nero couldn’t help but find satisfaction at the silent rage he’d sent his brother into and the slow movement of the soldiers away from their commander.

“Brother, you seem to forget that I have you surrounded. You’re not going anywhere” Ciar hissed, withdrawing his hand cannon and levelling at his brother. The other armed men, hesitant at first, quickly followed suit.
Nero just smiled and shook his head at the display, causing quite a bit of confusion from Blake and further irritation from Ciar. “Clearly, we’ve been out of touch for too long,” Nero said. In a flash, he scooped up Blake and dashed over to the roof’s edge, poised to drop. “You’d always know that I have a plan” Before anyone could react, Nero tossed himself off the roof with Blake, the latter screaming bloody murder the entire way down. Ciar and his men rushed over to see whether or not the two had left a new mark on the pavement below, but were instead but by the loud rumble of engines as a small hovercraft rose from the alleyway. The pilot’s windows were tinted, making view inside impossible. However, much to Ciar’s disbelief, on the top of the craft sat a ecstatic Nero and a terrified Blake.

“Like I said, I always have a plan!” Nero shouted, throwing his fuming brother a two-fingered salute.

“See ya!” With that, the hovercraft took off towards downtown London, a place that coincidentally would be next to impossible to find the two in.Ready to explode, Ciar withdrew his cellphone from his coat and selected the only number he had on quick dial. This was a call he most definitely didn’t want to make.

                                                                                                                                               

The office space was brightly lit by all manner of lamps and other bright objects. It was largely typical of a CEO’s office in New York, though being the office of one of the world’s largest companies had its advantages. The office was currently occupied by a group of people seated around a conference table. The figure at the head of the table slammed his fist into the built-in phone, anger evident in his eyes. 

“Bad news from the clinic?” one of the group said. He was dressed in a white suit, his jacket partially unbuttoned to display a black dress shirt underneath. His bright orange hair was covered by a black bowler hat, while a look of amusement danced behind his emerald eyes. Besides his chair sat a simple cane, one he always kept a hand on.

“Now is not the time to be joking. Could you actually act serious for once?” a gruff voice said in an irritated tone. The owner was a tall, older-looking man. He had a regal and military air about him. He wore a grey-white suit with a neck scarf tucked into the collar while on his chest sat several military service medals, all gleaming and proudly displayed. His grey eyes bore a look of deep concentration and his brown hair held a touch of grey at the sides. His image suddenly flickered slightly, the only indication that the man was a hologram.

“Now, now. Let him have his fun. You know he doesn’t always get a chance like this” another voice rang out, this one belonging to a woman. She had a sly, amused smile on her face; her fiery yellow-orange eyes shared the same emotions. Her long raven black hair fell back behind her, perfect and undisturbed. She wore a long red dress and black high heels; the dress was covered in intricate orange and black designs. Behind her stood two more people, her right and left hands, both staying back to the sidelines.

“You do know Belladonna might go underground again, right? It’ll be next to impossible to track her down again” said yet another woman, ignoring the exchange of the other three. Her blood red eyes stood out, competing with her counterpart for the most vibrant. She had a long mane of jet black hair, immaculate yet messy at the same time. She fiddled with one of the four sets of beads she wore on her neck.She was the only one not dressed formally, instead opting for a red-and-black miniskirt and a copper-red jacket covering a black v-neck. 

The man at the table’s head simply sighed, rubbing his temples. “I realize that but we do have an advantage considering the man who helped Blake escape was Ciar’s brother. You might know him better as the Butcher of Rome” He watched at least two sets of eyes nearly pop out of their skulls, a sly grin cross the face of the woman in the red dress, and the gruff man’s face remain neutral.

“Make no mistake, while he is dangerous, Ciar has briefed me extensively on everything concerning his brother. The most important part is this: he has no loyalty, works for whoever pays the most. Now, all of us have plenty of money, so the pay is no issue. I’m also sure that after tonight’s little debacle with his brother, it is very likely that Nero will refuse to work further with them. As long as we keep him away from Ciar, I’m sure the Butcher of Rome will prove a valuable asset” the man said. The man with the orange hair simply put his hand up, a gesture which elicited an irritated sigh from the man in the shadows. 

“Boss, while I’m sure your plan is flawless, what happens if he doesn’t do what we expect him too? Sometimes people aren’t exactly black-and-white” Before anyone could respond, a completely new voice interjected.

“Thats where I come in.” The voice belonged to a young man who stood behind the chair at the head of the table. Unlike the occupant of the latter, this man was readily visible to the people present. He wore a black leather jacket, an equally black v-neck underneath, grey combat pants, and black combat boots. A pair of tinted, futuristic-looking aviators sat on his face with the lower portion covered by a bandana along with a military style cap covering his head. Around his neck hung the symbols of alpha and omega overlapping each other. On his back was a positively massive rifle which appeared to be specially made.

“Who are you exactly?” orange hair asked, reaching for the gun he kept strapped on the inside of his suit. Before he could draw anything, he pulled back his hand in pain as a small ball bearing struck the back of his hand. 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you” the man said, his hand filled with similar bearings.

“Both of you, stop. To answer your question, this man is our contingency for Nero in case things don’t work out. He’s one of those who generously accepted what our Remnant Program offered. Now, to ease everyone’s tension, I propose a toast!” the lead man said, picking up the glass of champagne in front of him. Every seated person did the same and raised their glasses to their leader.

“The eve of the Grimm Awakening is nigh! Soon, we will be the true rulers of this world, its people our servants! To power! To wealth! To godhood!” the man crescendoed, lifting his glass into the air. The four others mimicked his actions.

“To godhood!” 

Author's Note

Written by Red, read more of his stuff here. http://www.writerscafe.org/Virak123