Chapter II

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Chapter II

     I yanked a loose strand of thread from the torn sleeve of my windbreaker. The tear wasn't as bad as I had originally thought, and would only take five or six stitches to fix. But the tear was placed almost strategically, as if my locker had wanted to expose my Mark. I thought nothing of it, and headed to my regular spot outside, under my favorite tree.

     I opened my lunch bag, pulled out my sandwich, and began to nibble on the loose ends of processed turkey. As I ate, I decided to continue to read my mother's letter. I reached for my back left pocket, where I had stashed it earlier. But when my hand touched the rough bottom of my jeans pocket without feeling any sort of paper, I knew something was very wrong.

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     Nevaeh Vastator was only an alias. My birth name had been Narmadius. My real life, my son, my wife, my house, all of these were taken away from me by the Dart. They had stripped me of my entire life, and left me with nothing to live for. Now, I live for their destruction.

     When I had been given the mission to track down the Hundredth, I was honored. I had been trained by Lucifer himself, and was at the top of my class in the art of torture. My task was simple, find the child, sedate him or her, and bring them back to my master. Only problem was, I had no clue where to find them. I searched for decades, scouring every planet in the galaxy, until I found Earth. Master Lucifer had said the child would probably be in hiding, attempting to blend in with the other humans.

     It took me almost thirty years to even get close to finding him. I examined every inch of Asia, Europe and Africa, only to find villages full of the poorest souls that I had ever encountered. They were great meals though, and I fed myself nearly a dozen times a week. But even though I was well fed, and able to cover nearly 1000 miles a day, I could never find the infamous Hundredth.

     It wasn't until I traveled to North-America that I began to sense the presence of a Dart. I followed my feeling of unease all the way to Canada, and to a small city called Edmonton. I found a female Dart, walking in an urban forest alone one night. I attacked and tortured her into giving me information about the Hundredth. She didn't give me much, so I stabbed her in frustration. She died instantly. I was back to square-one.

     Seven years later, I received an anonymous message telling me the Hundredth was in the city, and was male. The message also gave me an address, which led me to a high-school. I enrolled myself in the school, and morphed my appearance to look like a 16 year old human.

     The first day I arrived, I sensed great power in the school. I knew I was close to my target. I was put in a classroom, where I sat near the rear, to get a good vantage point to examine the students from behind. None stood out to me, aside from the one next to me, who was constantly fidgeting and glancing at his left arm. When the bell rang, he dashed out of class, as if he was afraid someone was going to chase him. Once all the students had exited the class, I followed the strange boy to his locker. He opened it with expert precision, with reflexes that no ordinary human would ever have. He then yanked a lunch and a few pieces of paper out of his school-bag, spilling its contents all over the floor.

     I placed myself atop one of his books, to get him to notice me. He began to complain that I was standing on his book until I helped him stand. He placed the papers in his back pocket, and stood to face me. I sized him up, taking note that he didn't stand very straight, but if he did, he would be a few inches taller than me. He was also quite skinny, but I could see his muscles, hard and stiff under his sleeves. When he turned to close his locker, I yanked the papers out of his back pocket. He caught his sleeve in his locker and tore it, revealing a scar on his left arm. I instantly grabbed at it, to examine and determine if it was a Mark of Dart. He made some excuse that he got it in a car accident, and I slammed him against his locker.

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