Spirit: Vincent
Weston Havok Creations
Prologue
“Is he okay,” a short man was crouched over a dark mass in the center of the museum; he and his partner had a job to do, “grand… I think we’ve killed him”
“He’s fine,” the deep, husky voiced belonged to the taller of the two who practically only grunted the words, “Inject him and let’s go.” Seconds later they were packed up and leaving
“I’m glad we got to inject him before he died,” he lifted the bag and briefcase he was holding and loaded them into a blue, bashed up and ancient Volkswagen Bus before looking back to the taller man. “It’s always harder for their spirit if they die before we can release them, think about how painful death was BEFORE we knew we had to free the spirit.”
The short man’s blabbering continued until a moan and a scream of pain echoed through the hallways and into the abandoned street, cutting him off. The dark mass, a body, had begun squirming and gasping for air. Simultaneously both men were at the sides of the body.
“I’ve never seen this reaction before, what do we do Blue?” The short mans head shot up as he realized what he had done, it was forbidden to speak each others name outside the complex, D-16. The rule was initiated when A-1 was destroyed. Back then they didn’t know what had caused it but they had reason to believe some one knew.
“Never. Ever. Say my name, there is always someone listening and for all we know it could be just that one someone who will drag us down, for now, load him in the truck. This may be a reaction to the Serum because we have not seen one so old.” What took merely seconds seemed like hours before they had stuffed the body into the back of the Bus.
“The Stalker is not going to be pleased with us,” Red, the shorter man, glanced nervously out the side window of the Bus. “What if he never forgives us, we finally tracked down Vincent, one of the only spirits who have survived so long and yet, he’s in the back and what’s much worse for him than us: He’s alive.”
Only a couple moments passed and much more than a couple glance exchanged between Red, the radio and the side window to his right before Blue replied. “The stalker is going to be a little accepting of our… failure, due to the age of the Spirit. Eighteen years old… that is a long time for someone to survive outside the walls. We will be forgiven Red. Maybe, just maybe, the Stalker can do something for this poor Spirit.”
Blue looked at Red, who was nervously checking the body of Vincent Devouire in the back of the bus, while keeping as much focus on his driving skills as well, “May the Stalker have mercy… on us all.”
Chapter 1
Remember
I think I’m dead. How can this be? Hunters shouldn’t be here, they should be running pet jobs for the Stalker. Had I really become this big of a threat? The Stalker… I was so close to figuring out his identity, why did I have to die when I was so close?
The stairs… I had something to do; someone brought me here for a reason. Someone wanted me to know. A message on my phone, a voice that I’ve never heard before but seemed so familiar, a déjà vu mixed with an excitement I’ve only dreamed about. Finally, at last I’m free, free from running free from being scared and always changing and being on the move.
My arm; it burns! It’s burning through my veins and up into my chest. I should be numb, that’s what all the Hunters say, the “Serum” is supposed to cure me, kill me to give me life, but not hurt. It must be wrong; they must have done something wrong. The pain… I’m alive!
I’m alive! That’s fantastic, I thought I was dead… but where I am… moving? Why can’t I see, or breathe, or hear? Oh no… They must be taking me to the Stalker; take me back I’m better off dying in pain and misery. I’m starting to plea? No, there must be a way to be free… must be a way out.
I began feeling around but it seemed like I was trapped in a bubble. That explains why I can’t breathe all to well and can’t hear or see. My phone, perhaps that was the way out, but I don’t know if I can speak, my throat is to dry and I can’t seem to find the words that could get me out of this problem, I can’t just ask for help I don’t know where I am.
I realized I wasn’t bound, the idiots had just figured I’d hold still or what? How impossible could it be to rip through a bag? Before I knew it I flew out of the bag, gasping for air and somehow, talking… rapidly.
The two men up front were as white as ghosts, is this their punishment for willingly giving up their lives for a life of security in a city surrounded by walls and lies? Their emotions seemed to tingle up my back and instantly I knew what they were feeling; Fear.
They had never seen a live Spirit before, I was scary to them. The short man looked like he had choked on invisible food during a prayer and was holding in his violent coughing until after. The taller man had made the truck skid to a stop and was now yelling something at the short man which sounded a lot like gibberish to me.
It was as if we had a stalemate, no man moved near me and I didn’t move near them. I heard they both talking to me at the same time which sounded as if they were speaking lies of help and were trying to get me into their web to devour me… devour… Devouire… me… Vincent Devouire.
I glanced into the rear-view mirror in time to notice a face, not mine, it looked monstrous. I yelled and tore out my gun and shot the mirror. I had a gun… when did I get a gun? Had I always had a gun or did I just pick it up. Later; the two men were not as surprised as I was. They had barely flinched.
“You. Vincent. That reflection is you. Let us help, let us fix this. You’re turning; we need you to trust us, let us help and take you to the Stalker, keep your gun in your holster. Let us help you.” He made a motion towards me and I automatically responded.
I flung the back of the gun and wacked him right on the head so he tumbled over his chair, limp. The taller man looked away from me and I took my window of opportunity and banged him in the head with the gun as well. I kicked open the back door of the Bus, A Volkswagen… nice, and began running towards the nearest exit of the city before I realized I was in the city.
Where am I headed? I’m in the city; there must be some rebels here, some way to escape… There must be some one who is not as blind as the Hunters. The Guards were everywhere, of course when your in a city that is trying to keep the “Beasts and Monsters” on the outside of the city, outside. Problems occur so Guards and Patrol men are needed. They are no different than mercenaries.
A pain shot into my left arm and I spun around just in time to notice the Guard was all running my way. There was nothing else I could do so I raised my gun and began to fire. I had forgotten though, my guns were outdated for their suits. My gun had been made mostly as a test weapon, so it wasn’t even finished if it was even to work at all.
Another painful shot began to drain my leg of its use and work its way up into my gut. I knew I was caught, I couldn’t give up though; I raised my gun just in time to watch a Guard shoot the last needle, the one that brought me down, straight into my neck.
