Eden's Landing

Prologue

Calvin Girard solemnly strode through the shadowed halls of Emerson Chemical Plant, his only companion being the steady echo of his own footsteps as he patrolled the slate white plant.  The floor to ceiling windows revealed a sun setting outside, his shadow cascading behind him, seemingly mocking the remarkable amount of shame he felt, always a pace behind him. For two weeks, he had used the steady sound of his footsteps to cope with the earlier month's events, but somehow always found himself circling back around to what had caused him such distress in the first place.

He heard a faint voice in his head, "Do you really want that, Calvin?  Do you?" the thought whispered off the walls, throwing his mind into a sinkhole.  Calvin suddenly realized the building becoming darker as the sun sank further on the horizon, and became astonishingly aware of how alone he was.  Petrified, Calvin found himself instinctively grasping onto a marble column near by, far too familiar with the feeling of fighting the battle between his mind and consciousness.  

The security guard grasped wildly at his head, as if attempting, in vain, to purge the chaotic thoughts out of his mind.  His breathing became erratic, grasping for air, he felt himself slowly losing control of his body, organ by organ, limb by limb.  He felt himself slipping in and out of consciousness as he dropped to his knees, his muscles convulsing, his body undulating as if he floated in the ocean.  

He heard the sound of a guttural scream, and soon realized it came from his own mouth, his eyes widened in desperation as he attempted to ground himself.  His past had begun to take form, seeking vengeance, tearing him apart from the inside out and creating an internal battle unseen by the naked eye.  Mustering confidence, Calvin forced the things that made him most content to the forefront of his mind in order to purge himself of the attack on his body.  

Soon, he found himself screaming out in agony, attempting to cling onto normalities, something his wife had advised him previously. His mind clamored for the memories, usually at the forefront of his mind, only to find them suddenly out reach. 

His voice came out as a deafening rasp, tearing into his throat like daggers, and he shouted until he could no longer feel his throat, until all he could do was whisper.  The sound of his flashlight dropping to the floor echoed off the walls as he crumpled to the floor, his struggle lost in the void of space as he faded into his mind and his life began to flash before his eyes. 

Griffin Dyke paced across the board room,  the man's weathered face told a story of many years of strain; these kind of decisions splintered him physically and emotionally.  He felt torn as the company faced an immense debate:  whether or not to push back the company reopening.   The town of Melbrooke had donated large sums of money towards the company, which was expected to become the pride of the town itself, the company on a hill, literally and figuratively.  The town itself was relying on the Emerson Chemical Plant to put it on the map, and Griffin was not going to let them down.

At his side stood his business partner, Calvin Girard, gazing at Griffin with a confident smile, amidst the sheer career-destroying chaos.  Calvin, unlike Griffin, seemed to have a strange ability beyond his understanding, a psychic connection to the future.  Regardless, he had total confidence in how any given situation would play out, even against the most unfavorable odds.

Griffin lapsed in his anger for a brief moment, caught off guard by Calvin's reaction, "Calvin, would you care to share with the board why you seem to be so unaffected by this issue?" He asked through gritted teeth, fuming as he attempted to feel anger towards his closest friend.

Calvin slowly turned his head, making no effort to rush his movements, "Griffin, we both know what the right decision to make here is, why would we force a project of this magnitude if it is not ready to be shown to the public?  Our studies have shown that reinforcements to our structure and months of extra security measures are suggested, no, required!  Do you have any idea how many potential lives that could be at risk?"  His voice slowly raising in tone as his mind raced through the possibilities and what they would entail.