Chapter 1

Chapter 1.

Alyce twiddled her fingers. Not because she was nervous or scared, as some people did. No, it was because she was bored. Her one visible lavender eye traveled lazily from her lap to the window the other was hidden behind her hair. The landscape was pure white, the trees and ground were covered with a thick layer of snow. Her eyes trailed back to look at her neighbor, a graying old man who was examining his dentures with the look a young child might get looking at his first carnival. She inconspicuously scooted away from him.

 

A little, five-year-old girl in pig tails waddled by, singing ’Feliz Navidad’ at the top of her voice. Alyce had the urge to hit her, but swallowed it. Suddenly, the man popped his dentures back into his mouth and turned to look at Alyce. “Where are you goin’, young one?” Seeing as she was probably a good thousand years older then he, Alyce didn’t respond immediately.

 

“New York city,” she said quickly, to make up for the minute she’d spent staring at the wall ahead of her. “I’ve got some work there,” she added. One of her worst pet peeves was people giving her young kid names.

 

“Oh,” the man said, nodding. “You look rather young. What profession?”

 

“Assassination,” she said, not looking at him. He laughed, and she couldn’t help but scoff. She was glad he seemed to be going deaf in one ear. Why laugh in the face of someone who could kill you with a single move? She realized then that he thought she was joking, and decided to go with it. She could probably prove to him she wasn’t, but it would be troublesome. Plus, she was feeling oddly kind that day.

 

The train lurched to a stop, almost throwing the man out of his seat. Alyce had been braced, so she stayed firmly in the cushions. Wishing her a merry Christmas, the man grabbed his bag and ran off.

 

Alyce followed slower. She stepped down lightly into the snow, letting her feet sink into the powdery substance, feeling it dampen the ends of her ripped jeans. She wasn’t well equipped for winter; ripped jeans; fishnet stockings; Jack Skellington tank top (she’d grown quite attached to the skeleton cartoon character since she’d first seen his movie); no coat or jacket and only an old suitcase slung over her back.

 

Her feet seemingly skimming the top inches of the snow, Alyce picked her way past the brightly lit shops and red and green decorations, down to the bowls of the dark, run down part of the city. She turned one last corner to face a plain brick wall, chipping slightly at the edges and looking altogether unspectacular.

 

She leaned forward and whispered, “Atrum.” A series of overly conspicuous clicks filled the air, followed by the bricks moving as one to submit her. She rolled her eyes in a general, ’Spare me’ gesture.

 

A man in a long, black hooded cloak greeted her, appearing in front of her with a faint popping sound. “Right on time for Christmas,” he said cheerily in a thick Spanish accent and deep voice. The effect was quite innerving. Alyce’s eyebrows nearly disappeared into her dark bangs. Surely she was in the right place?

 

“Excuse me?” she asked, wondering if she had gotten the addresses messed up.

“I said, ’right on time for Christmas’. You are the new member, correct?” he said, his eyebrows mimicking hers. “How else could you have gotten the word?”

 

“I think so,” Alyce said slowly. “I’m Alyce.” She stuck out her hand awkwardly. She wasn’t a master of human interaction, seeing as she’d lived as a widow in the mountains in France. The Alps, to be exact, just to make it harder to be contacted.

 

“Ah, yes, yes,” the man said, stroking an either invisible or nonexistent beard beneath his hood. A beard would have looked rather odd on him, Alyce decided, seeing as he looked around sixteen. He pulled off his hood so she could see his face; it was rather round with scruffy brown hair lining the top of it and brown eyes sparkling from either side of his nose. “I’m Claude.”

 

“Charmed,” Alyce said sarcastically. Claude wrinkled his nose at her an looked about to retort, but he was interrupted by a thundering sound coming from inside the room where Alyce couldn’t see.

 

“CLAUDE! WHAT IN DIOS’S NAME DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?” whatever it was that was thundering said. It was distinctly feminine, though low.

 

“I was just… uh… I, um, uh… Just… Wanted… Oh, man,” Claude muttered, looking guilty. A girl with looks identical to his appeared in the doorway behind him. She looked pissed.

 

“You must be Alyce,” she said, forcefully pushing Claude out of the way. Alyce nodded and wondered if this really was, as the booklet had said, an ‘evil organization’. Why an ‘evil organization’ needed it’s own booklet, Alyce had no idea.

 

“Yeah,” Alyce grunted.

 

“Great,” she said. “Sorry about Claude. He’s still young. And insane. We think it’s a little bit of that, too. Anyways, I’m Maria his--” she flinched “--twin. Come in, I‘ll show you to Leader’s and then you‘re on your own.”

 

Alyce followed Maria along a long, dark corridor. It’s walls were lined with torches and the ceiling dripped. Alyce couldn’t help but feel a bit morbid as she walked down it, deciding she liked it. “In here,” Maria whispered, kicking the tall, wooden door open with the toe of her boot. “Good luck.” Alyce stepped into the room.

 

It was circular, with rugs from around the world tacked to the walls with heavy butchers knives and cleavers. A desk sat in the middle, with a figure sitting behind it.

 

“Alyce,” it said. It’s very presence struck Alyce as cold and stilling.

 

“Yes.” She was impulsively quiet.

 

“You’ve come a long way. It was hard to find you,” it said. Alyce could have sworn it was smiling at her from it’s perch.

 

“That was sort of the point,” Alyce said, shrugging anxiously. “I didn’t want people to find me. And yet,” she added testily, “here I am.”

 

“Yes. Here you are. And I have your first mission prepared. You’ll be rescuing a captured operative. That will be your initiation. All you will need is in this bag.” Alyce felt something land in her pocket and withdrew a small leather bag.

 

“Be back in about an hour.”

 

-----------------------

 

 

Creeping along the edge of the big, industrial government building, Alyce cursed birds a few times, then began dismantling the ventilator on the side of the building. She heated her hands to an extreme temperature to melt it away. The thing came off easily in her hand. She slipped into the vent quickly. She had to struggle on her hands an knees to fit, though she managed to climb through without too much trouble. Finally, getting aggravated, she pulled out a set of blueprints and looked down at it. Her finger met the paper at one point, and followed a pre-mapped red line to a red ‘X’.

 

Shoving the page into her pocket again, Alyce continued laboring down the vent again until she reached the marked ‘X’ area.

 

“Score.” She raised her fist and brought it down on the thick metal. The metal shattered and she dropped through it. She was surprised to land on a sheet of glass; apparently, the captured operative was being held in what looked like a giant fish tank minus the water. She punched again, this time through the glass.

 

Ignoring the glass pieces stuck in her hand, she scooted to the edge and jumped down, landing on her feet and enjoying the sound of the crunching glass beneath her combat boots.

 

The boy in front of her was not the person she wanted to be rescuing. She’d known him for most of her life, and he’d messed it up pretty well. “Alyce,” he said pleasantly, stepping cautiously away from her ferocious expression. “Nice to see you again. It’s been a long time, huh? What-- a hundred years?”

 

“Two hundred and three, Ronan,” she hissed. “And for one hundred and ninety-three I’ve planned on killing you.”

 

“Don’t you think that’s kind of harsh?”

 

“No.”

 

“Okay, wait,” Ronan said quickly. “How about you get me out of here first--see, it’s a rescue mission, right? You can kill me when we get back to base.” Alyce nodded stiffly, knowing once they got back to the base there was no way she was going to get to do as she planned. He walked forward towards her, and she spun around, punching him right in the jaw.

 

The bones in her hands collided into the bones in his jaw, sending him flying backwards. He slammed into the wall, then fell down off it, leaving an indent in the glass.

 

“You’ve been practicing,” he wheezed.

 

“That’s not even the half of it, a*s hole. Not get your butt moving, we‘re leaving.”

Author's Note

Things will be cleared up later on in the story, this is only the first chapter.

Reviews

[MarilynJay]

It was good. One thing, I noticed you use pronouns or articles a lot at the beginning of your sentences. She, she, her, the, she. It might be more exciting with other words. But good job!