Transcending Abnormality

Sore Throat

Janus hummed as he walked into his office to start his day. It was about ten in the morning, and he was holding a hot cup of coffee that he placed down onto his desk. He thought that he was actually starting to come to terms with the fact that Virgil might not come home. Maybe it didn't actually matter at this point - he was an adult and shouldn't really have to live somewhere he doesn't want to.

He thought that his life would progress either way. Maybe he was wrong to do what he did. It was just.. this undeniable longing for family. He'd never had much of it growing up. Just him, his mother and his brother. And of course, Henry had always been their mother's favourite. Virgil was supposed to be his one opportunity to prove that he is capable of love. That someone could care for him and he could care for them.

It was probably hopeless to begin with, he supposed.

Janus was so lost in his thoughts that it really startled him when Remus shoved the door to his office open. Said man looked incredibly upset, which wasn't an emotion that the agent frequented. He quickly stormed his way up to Janus' desk.

"I'm assuming you haven't been on social media today." He accused, sniffling slightly as though he'd just been in floods of tears and was now cooling down from that high.

Janus raised an eyebrow, concerned. "I haven't." He replied easily.

"Well, fucking look then."

Janus opened a new tab on his laptop and loaded up the first social networking sight he could think of. There was a post in the trending section that was immediately at the top of his feed. It was only a black screen, but it had about two million reposts and almost seven million views. It was 3 hours old and the caption was very short, and it only read: '@janusdyle'.

His eyes glanced back to Remus' sceptically. The other man pulled the chair around from the other side of Janus' desk to be sitting next to him as he gestured for the play button to be pressed.

The black screen faded away as the camera is clearly picked up, lens moving off the ground. We appear to be in a small, abandoned-looking building. The camera faces a corner in which two dark grey concrete walls meet. The person holding the camera has obviously shaky hands.

"This is for Janus Dyle, so if you aren't him then this video won't be of interest to you." The voice spoke gruffly, and it was incredibly unattractive.

"We believe we have something of yours." The voice says, before panning down to a figure on the ground. It is very abundantly Virgil. He's unconscious, or it appears that way. His eyes are closed peacefully, and there's dried blood in a trail from the right side of his skull and in other varying locations of his face - hands also tied with rope in front of him.

"He was a little difficult to catch, but we finally got him. He has an incredibly pretty face, it'd be a shame if we had to ruin it because you didn't want to cooperate."

The man tilts Virgil's chin up with his hand, showing that there are visible bruises on his jaw and shoulders.

"We also have these two young men that he was travelling with." The man says, panning over to where Roman and Logan were clearly in similar states of harm, but this time Logan was awake - hands and ankles bound by rope as he sat on the floor. While he is conscious, he looks barely aware of his surroundings, not speaking or even making eye contact with the camera. Roman lay asleep, wrists bound as his head rests against the wall. "If they're of any value to you as well then I suggest you pay close attention."

The camera pans back over to Virgil.

"We demand a minimum of two million dollars, cash, for their safety. If you want them returned safely to you, we expect at least three million. For five million we'll get them to you and they'll be in one piece. Or, knock off a hundred thousand for each of the friends, unless they're particularly of value to you."