Inktail

Chapter One ~ About four thousand years later...

Chapter one ~ About four thousand years later...

I slowly and painfully opened my eyes, squinting with blurry vision at the floor, trying to get it to come into focus. After a moment, it did, and I beheld a rather dirty concrete floor, covered in pockmarks and smeared with something I hoped was dirt. I moved slightly, and realized my hands, arms, legs and feet were bound to a small iron chair. I sat back and sighed, blinking up at the single bulb hanging from the ceiling of the concrete room. People these days have NO imagination.
Suddenly, I heard footsteps outside the rusty iron door in the wall in front of me. It swung open with a creak, and the many sets of footsteps tramped inside, echoing off the bare walls. After a moment of silence, I heard a throat being cleared impatiently. I sighed loudly, head still tilted back, eyes closed. "Ugh, what do you want?"
An amused snort, then; "Girl, do you even know who you're speaking to?"
I shrugged one shoulder, indifferently. I could hear the man's breathing get heavier, and a shoe tapping the floor. Suddenly, my head was yanked up by the hair, and I was staring into the swarthy, sweaty, ugly face of the biggest Italian mob boss in the country. I wrinkled my nose. "Wow. I hate to think what your mother looked like."
His eyes widened for a moment, and then suddenly, I was looking at the wall, my cheek numb, and blood dripping from a cut on my face. The droplets on the floor looked midnight black. Slowly, I turned my head back to look at him through a curtain of hair, my face shadowed. "You shouldn't have done that... now you've made me mad."
The man's face had turned a rather intriguing shade of purple. "Do you know who I AM?!" He demanded again.
I bared my teeth in what could be taken for a smile, and replied in his native language, even adding the hint of a dialect that his voice carried. "Of course. You're Rufio DeNardo Recando, biggest mob boss this side of the Atlantic ocean... and you're a complete and utter moron. I mean," I nodded at the four guards stationed in the corners of the cell, "Who brings four wingmen to a date?"
Rufio started forward again, hand raised to strike my a second time. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a pitch-black coil whipped out and wrapped around his wrist, holding it perfectly still. I stood up, the ropes and cuffs falling from the chair. My eyes gleamed from the shadows of my face. "But dear Rufio... do you have any Idea who I am?" I took a step forward, and the shocked guards lunged forward, trying to tackle me to the ground. I sidestepped the first one and casually punched him in the side of the head. He went down hard. The second one leaped for my knees, but I just kicked him in the face, knocking him to the side. The third one tried to punch me from behind, but I ducked, and he hit Rufio instead, knocking him back several paces, blood spurting from his nose. The black, ropelike thing slipped off his wrist.
While the guard was distracted by the realization of the mistake he had just made, I slammed my palm directly into his temple, knocking him out cold. I whirled around to face the fourth guard, who was a bit more cautious than the others, and we circled each other, fists up in a fighting stance.
Suddenly, the man was distracted by a flickering shadow behind me. His eyes widened, a second before that shadow wrapped around his neck and tossed him into the wall. I whirled around just in time to see Rufio stagger to his feet, blood dripping down his chin. I snarled at him.
He backed up toward the iron door, only to find that the lock had been set. He started to reach for the key in his pocket, when his eyes caught sight of the odd, flickering shadow behind me. He stared at it for a moment, frozen. Then slowly, his wide, piggish eyes traveled up to my face, and the to coal-like eyes that stared out from under my raven-dark hair. "What..." he swallowed, "What are you?"
I smirked. "No no no, it's who are you. And who am I?" The rippling shadow swished around my legs, the long dark line morphing into a rather scorpian-like bladed appendage, before slamming into the door, slicing a tiny cut into his earlobe. I leaned in close, until I could smell the fear rolling off him. "My name is Viaxeira, the Traveler. I have a few others, but that's the only one you need to know. Now... what to do with you..."

~~~

About an hour later, I was walking up to my apartment, trying to figure out which pocket I had left my keys in.
I thought I put them in my jacket pocket... I didn't leave them in my other outfit, did I? My other outfit was the one I usually used for 'work'.
Finally, I dug them out of my back pocket, which I almost never put things in, and slid the correct key into the lock... just as the door was jerked open.
Instantly, my hands were up, and my feet spread wide in a fighting stance. Then, just as fast, I relaxed again. "Natia, you scared the living crap out of me! How many times have I told you not to startle me?!"
My olive-skinned, dark-haired roommate just grinned. "Oh come on, Eira, it's not like it's the end of the world or anything!" She grabbed my arm and pulled me inside, then over to the couch, where she plopped me down and sat down next to me, simultaneously switching on the TV with the remote. "We're about to miss the season finale of S.H.I.E.L.D! Come onnnn, you promised you'd watch it with me!"
I sighed, and slumped back into the lumpy, stained brown thing that was our main piece of living room furniture, and focused my eyes on the screen. My mind, however, wandered elsewhere. At that moment, someone would likely be discovering a room full of guards, all ducktaped to the same metal chair, with their boss hanging from the ceiling light above them by his underwear. I chuckled under my breath. Another happy ending... now it remains to be seen whether there is anything else here for me... or whether it's time to move on. I sighed again, and crossed my arms behind my head. This is my life... but sometimes, I kind of wish it would slow down.