EVERLASTING✔

The Calm Before The Storm*

July 31st 2015

The man stood there, behind the counter of his gun shop, gazing out the store door, obviously, it wasn't a real shop. No, this site acted as a camouflage for the operation the man was actually running, like a new age Hitler, as he would describe himself.

He believed that supernatural beings were beneath him in any and all ways, and he wanted to discard of them all entirely. He smiled to himself, he had to wait to begin to execute this operation but he was a patient man, he could wait.

"Boss," a weak, timid voice came from behind him. The man turned around to find his son. He is so pathetic the man thought to himself.

His son was an employee of his, a pawn. Most of the men he had obtained over the past two years for this operation were all over twenty-five and had some form of experience with heavy-duty firearms. However, his son was the youngest.

A short, unfit, thirteen-year-old boy with little to no self-confidence. His son was an exact carbon copy of the man which satisfied him. Jet black hair, striking green eyes, pale skin, it was only his mind that was yet to change.

"What you blubbering idiot?" The man asked, rolling his eyes, unamused by how much of a sissy his son had become. It made him sick.

His son looked down, not daring to make eye contact with him which would later become a mistake. "The men found a woman, her name is Ismey," he murmured, holding his arms tightly to his body.

"And? Why didn't they kill her? That's our objective!" The man shouted, slamming his hands onto the metal counter. His son flinched at his outburst, scared for his safety. The man slowly approached his son who kept his head lowered. "Nathan," the man spoke the child's name.

Nathan looked up at his father, tears in his eyes. Weak the man thought to himself watching his son cower beneath him. Without a moment of hesitation, the man struck his son across the face, making him stumble.

The boy almost started crying but knew if he did, his father would hit him again, as he had before, so he stood tall looking at his father.

"Now, I will ask again. Why didn't they kill her?" The man asked, walking back over to the counter and grabbing a pair of leather gloves from the cabinet, putting them on. He hated touching the supernatural like if he does they will infect him with their filth.

"She said she could help with our crusade," Nathan spoke, this time his voice was held with much more confidence and authority. The man smiled to himself, better.

The man nodded and pushed past his son, heading into the 'employees only' area. Instead of a breakroom, it led down a long staircase before many twisting hallways broke off, only illuminated by a few lightbulbs on the ceilings.

Each corridor looked the same, a grey concrete colour, if you weren't careful you would get lost. The man came to the end of one of the hallways where two guards stood, guarding what was inside. They opened the door for him and he walked inside to greet his guest.

The woman was chained to the ground, her long brown hair hanging loosely in her face. When the door opened she came face to face with a man that would tower over her small size, yet she knew she could overpower him easily, it would be like taking candy from a baby.

"I was told you could help with our mission, Ismey," the man spoke, he began to pace the room like a tiger circling its prey. The man smiled to himself as the chains rattled as the women tried to watch him.

"Do you know what our mission is?" He asked her, looking at her face. She looked dull, skin drained of life, her eyes yellow and sick looking, with a slight unhingedness behind them.

"Yes," Ismey whispered, moving slightly making the chains rattle again. "Kill all supernatural creatures," she mumbled, making the man smile wider.

"Why?" The man asked her, stopping only a few feet in front of her. He knew that she already knew but he wanted to hear how enthusiastic she was for it all.

Ismey looked up at the man through her messy hair, smiling slightly. "Because they all deserve to die," she chuckled. She couldn't wait to get started. Murder was her favourite.

"Mmm yes," he mused, grabbing Ismey's chin making her look at him. He saw so much of himself in her. A desire to get back at some people who wronged her, and an undoubtedly crazy nature about her, a desire for theatrics and revenge. Just what he needed.

"Who?" Ismey asked, a full smile crossing her face. A spark of excitement peaking inside her. He trusted her so undoubtedly that he would let her go on a mission already. The most important one.

"Two families. Ryders' and Lightwoods', can you do it?" The man questioned, standing at the door, refusing to face her.

"With ease," Ismey told him, laughing cynically. This was going to be a lot of fun, working for this man and she loved the sheer craziness of it all.

The man banged on the door and a moment later it opened for him, he ruled over these people with an iron fist already but he knew with Ismey that his rein would be unquestioned. He left the room as Ismey continued to laugh to herself, it brought him a sick form of joy.

"Let her go and escort her to Rosalee Wilson-Ryders' house, then let her do her thing," the man told the two guards standing there. They nodded their heads in compliance, making the man proud.

This is going to be so much fun.