The night was cold and the rain was relentless, but even so, a tall figure walked down the street. His head was bent and the hood of his jacket had been drawn up over his head, but it did nothing to stop the rain from soaking him to the bone. He stuck his hands into the pockets of his jeans just before a car passed by, splashing water from a puddle onto the already soaked figure. He hardly even noticed it. Instead, he kept walking as though he couldn't feel anything from the cold to the feeling of water splashing onto him.
Everyone around him was rushing about, trying to get out of the rain. Most of them hardly even noticed him in their rush except for a few that glanced at him as though he was crazy. He ignored all of them, even one hurrying man that decided to just shove past him instead of waiting for him to move aside. The hooded figure hardly even raised his head at the man.
A few paces later, he finally turned his head towards a small diner nestled between two brick buildings. The neon signs were awfully bright in the darkness of the rainy night. There was nothing special about the diner, it looked like all the others he'd seen in the state and yet, this one attracted his attention. Without missing a step, he turned towards the diner. The traffic lights conveniently turned red just as he stepped onto the curb. Unbeknownst to the rushing pedestrians, a smirk lingered on the man's lips just as he crossed the road. "Humans," he muttered so low that even if someone had been standing right next to him, they wouldn't have been able to hear it.
A bell dinged as he opened the door to the diner, announcing his arrival. Hardly anyone glanced at him, if they had, they would have found it rather odd to find him completely dry. He used his hand to sweep the hood off his head, revealing dark brown hair and emerald green eyes. He noticed the young waitress at the counter stare at him where a few minutes before she had chosen to ignore him pretending to go through her notebook. He could hear her breathing start to hitch and her heart was definitely starting to race. He ignored her and scanned the diner.
Not many people had chosen to take refuge in the diner even though the rain was still pounding as heavily as it had been an hour before. A man in his forties sat at the counter reading the newspaper. A few paces down, a man in a trench coat drank some coffee from his mug and continued to watch the news. There was only one other customer in the diner and it was a woman in her early twenties using her laptop, the whole booth covered in papers.
He walked over to a booth in the corner next to a window and sat down, his knees brushing against the underside of the table. He sighed and tried to make himself as comfortable as he possibly could before the young waitress hurried over to take his order. By the way he could hear the fabric rustling, he was pretty sure she was trying to straighten herself up. She came to stand by him. "How can I help you?" she asked politely, with a confident smile. He noticed her skirt was slightly hitched up, revealing more of her long legs. The nametag pinned to her pink waitress' uniform said 'Ellen'. Her perfect long blonde curls framed her pretty face and her blue eyes seemed to glint slyly, giving her words a double meaning.
He glanced at the board behind her and picked out the first thing that he saw. "Two coffees," he responded, his tone hard, telling her that he was not interested.
Her eyes flashed with an angry glint and he figured she was one of the girls that thought she controlled the world. She probably only worked in the diner because her parents decided that she needed to work for her allowance. Now he was definitely not interested. She huffed and whirled around heading back to the counter to pour out the coffee. Even as she walked back to the counter, she swayed her hips as though hoping to change his mind just by that simple action. He rolled his eyes and hoped that whatever it was he was doing in the small town, it didn't have anything to do with that girl.
"Oh, it does, but she's not the reason you're here," a man's voice said from right in front of him. The green-eyed guy sighed in resignation and turned around to see a man sitting in the seat in front of him. He wore a black trench coat over an expensive suit. His greying hair was cut short and he was now growing a goatee. Emerald green eyes stared back at him. "Hello Seth," he greeted with a smile.
The younger man arched his eyebrows. "That's my name this time?"
The older man shrugged. "It was either that or Sage, and I didn't think you would have liked being named after an herb," he answered smoothly. "So how have you been? You haven't aged a bit."
"Isn't that exactly why you give me the time of day at all, Father?" Seth shot back, the last word leaving a nasty taste in his mouth. The older man just smiled as though he was used to it. Of course he was, they had been alive for a long time now. "So how's Alicia?"
"She misses you," the older man answered. "Your mother misses you too. They want to see you."
Seth clenched his fists and turned to look out the window. "She's not my mother. You killed my mother after she had me. I'm only surprised you didn't kill Elizabeth too after Alicia was born." He paused for a moment and turned back to his father, making sure he knew that he meant the venom in his voice. "Actually, no, I don't think I'm surprised. I am the only unnamed around these here parts after all."
Before the older man could say anything, the young waitress came back with two mugs of coffee. If she found anything unusual about finding another man sitting in the booth without even hearing the door open, she didn't say a thing. That was when he noticed the glazed over eyes. At least this time she left at once. The last time the waitress' eyes were glazed over . . . he almost shuddered at the memory.
"Stop acting like a spoilt brat," the man chastised him, his voice light and casual. "Your birth almost killed your mother; it was the price to pay for becoming an unnamed."
"You made me a bloody unnamed!" Seth slammed his hands onto the table. None of the diners turned to look at him. It took him a moment before he managed to rein in his anger. "You know what, I don't give a damn about what you say, so let's hurry up and get this over with, shall we?"
The older man's eyes were steely but his demeanour remained casual. A file appeared on the table as he raised his mug to his lips and drank. Seth didn't touch the file and watched the man he couldn't believe he called his father. "Everything's in there," the man said, downing the other mug of coffee as well. Seth didn't stop him. He hated coffee. The man stood up and made to leave. But before he did, he caught Seth's eyes with his own unwavering gaze. "Don't mess this up, the Council has had enough with you. It was only because I promised them you wouldn't mess up that you're still even alive."
"How nice," Seth spat out sarcastically. Immortality was unbecoming of him.
The man smiled humourlessly. "No, I don't think its immortality, it's more to sarcasm." And with that he walked off, the glaze on the waitress' eyes vanished along with him.
Shaking in anger, Seth fished around in his pockets for the money and left it on the table before heading out taking the file with him. "Bloody mind reader," Seth growled out, knowing that the old man could hear him perfectly fine.
YOU ARE READING
Unnamed
FantasyWhat if fate didn't control life and death? What if there was a secret organization of immortals that chose those that deserve a second chance in life and have been successful in doing so for centuries? And what if fate suddenly decides to fight bac...