Children of the Elements: Prey to Him

Prologue

Prologue

"We are each our own devil, and we make this world our hell" - Oscar Wilde

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The boy sprinted down the empty corridor, his shoes scuffing silently against the grey linoleum floors. His face was splattered with random patches of blood, and there was the rip of a bullet in his shoulder, however this didn’t stop him from continuing. He carried a gun in his hand as he ran, smiling a little to himself. He always enjoyed the chase more than the fighting. It was the waiting, the hiding. That always kept his adrenaline running at a high.

He slowed to a smooth stop at the end of the corridor, sticking to the shadows as he flattened himself against the white wall’s corner. He wore all black clothes; thin Lycra trousers and a tight black t-shirt. Over this, his black biker jacket was flapping against his chest as he breathed ruggedly.

He hid the gun at his side as he peeked around the corner. There were two men in suits at the end, waiting for the elevator. They seemed in no rush, merrily chatting to each other in conversation. One of these men carried a briefcase. That was it. That was the mission.

The boy was about to take a step towards them, when a hand was placed on his shoulder. He span around, his hackles raised, his gun automatically pointing in the direction of the touch. The man had held his hands up in surrender, but his expression was relaxed. The boy took his gun down and stuck his head back around the corner as he recognised the man. The elevator doors closed and the boy grunted, irritated. Trust him to lose the most important item since he’d started.

“Don’t panic. The guards will take the briefcase when the doors open again.”

The boy span around on his heels in a rage. “I was going to do it! You asked me, and then when I was about to get it, you come and interrupt.”

The man smirked, however this only irritated the child more. “Patience, young one. Your time will come. I have something more important for you to do.”

At this, the boy calmed down a little. He was one of the most curious boys his age: he couldn’t stand not to know anything, which is why he was as he was. He was a winner, and he knew it. When he set his mind on something, it would be achieved, no matter the costs or consequences.

The man turned around slowly, the tail of his suit flaring a little, and beckoned the boy to follow him as he began to walk back down the corridor the way he had come.

The boy followed with interest. He was still upset that he had not been able to complete the last task, but if there was a new one, perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad. He’d be able to make it up to himself by getting the next win.

As he strolled down the corridor behind the man, the boy looked into the different rooms. Blood was sprayed all up the creamy yellow walls, bodies flung carelessly about the room. The sound of conflict had died down considerably as the men had fallen like leaves in an autumn breeze. He had enjoyed the sensation of overpowering these men. He had finally had control.

The man turned the corner to another long and boring corridor. The chandeliers dangling from the ceilings had been smashed, spreading their glass all over the floors. There were several suited men slumped against the walls here as well. The stench of death and rotting corpses was satisfyingly familiar to the boy. One of the bodies starting moving, stretching weakly towards him. The man had blood dripping down his chin and onto his white shirt, staining his royal blue tie and perfectly ironed beige jacket red. One side of his face was completely bashed in: it looked as though it had exploded from a near bullet shot. It was almost hard to look at, but the boy did not turn away. Nor did he stop. Instead, he smirked a little at the man, before releasing the safety catch on his gun and shooting the man in the centre of his brain. The corpse instantly stopped moving and slid onto the floor, his brains scattered on the wall behind him.