"Things will never be the same again."
Gneiss Underwood never thought that he could have a shot of a normal life.
Growing up in an environment where everything defied sanity, guns and loneliness were his normal companions, if not danger and Death h...
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"There are hunters, and there are victims. By your discipline, cunning, obedience, and alertness, you will decide if you are a hunter or a victim."
Number Twelve
Kreuz Creed lifted his tired eyes from the monitor when a small woman with curly brown hair entered his office. He paused from reading the reports, straightened up, and folded his hands atop the black table, waiting for his sudden guest to address him. Minutes expired, but she didn't do anything; only watched him with a blank hazel-eyed gaze.
"Cecilia," he spoke slowly, breaking the silence, "why were you at the meadow in the middle of the night?"
He had seen her footage, caught by one of the cameras installed all over the island.
The unsmiling woman held a bouquet of wild flowers in her dirty hands. She was dripping wet, drenched because of the storm outside. Shivering, she smiled sadly.
"Ophelia wanted these for her wedding."
Kreuz made no further inquiries; he didn't want to talk about her. It would only serve as a distraction... He sighed. Unable to continue his work, he turned off his laptop. "What brings you here? And why are you barefooted?"
She made no response. Her fingers caressed the fresh blossoms, picking off the thorns on their stems as well.
"Cecilia," he growled threateningly. "My patience is reaching."
Unwillingly, she lifted her eyes. There were tears in them. Tears of blood.
"Kreuz," she finally spoke in a distracted tone. "Rain. Glass. Feathers are scattered. You must not come in between."
The small woman – sister to his deceased wife – paced around the room in a trance-like manner.
"Rain. Glass. Feathers are scattered," she repeated. She faced him with a hiss, her furious glare making him raise a brow. "You must not come in between! Stay away!"
"I am not in a mood for your word games, Cel."
"I warn you, brother. Rain. Glass. Feathers. Shadows. Interfere and you'll be swallowed." More tears streamed down her exquisite face, staining the flowers in her hands. "Cry, cry. Brother you must stay away. Darkness is falling."
"We are the darkness, my dear," he spoke gently. "We who do greater evil to purge evil are the darkness of this world."
"Darkness is falling, falling, falling," she shrieked, covering her face. She wailed loudly as the wild flowers scattered on her feet. "Rain, glass, feathers are scattered –"
Cecilia, like her older sister, was Gifted. Even if their appearance was nearly identical, their powers were not. Cecilia had always been the "Eyes" of the organization, and Ophelia was its Untouchable Mistress. Those times were the peak of the past, the reign of the very first Equations. Cecilia's prophecies had allowed Creed to avoid the worst of times. Her accuracy was unquestionable. Her warnings were not to be ignored; Kreuz knew and had learned the hard way.
