Devoid of emotion, agent Williams, slouched over a desk in the dimly lit corner of a dingy motel room. Light reflects on his face from the laptop in front of him as he plays the recording again.
The voicemail beep sounds and then it plays, a faint static in the background.
"Hey Tom, it's been pretty quiet around here, so I just wanted to call and see how you are doing. I know we said we wouldn't talk about it, but Christmas just isn't the same without you here... We especially miss that sweet potato dish you made last year." She reminisces, chuckling softly. "Any way, we hope you come home soon!"
The audio crackles as the sound of the phone being handed off comes through.
"Say hi to daddy." The woman's voice now faded and muffled in the background.
"Hi, daddy... I miss you.. When are you coming home?" The child's voice asks, not understand that he wasn't on the line.
The phone changes hands again as the woman's voice returns.
"Sorry, she's been asking all the time. Anyways, call me back, okay?"
The tone beeps again as the message ends.
The man's emotionless composure falters and is replaced by a look of barely perceptible pain and sadness. He pours another glass of whiskey from the half empty bottle and downs it, wincing briefly at the alcoholic sting. Then puts his hands to his face, rubbing his eyes, fighting the deep-rooted agony within. He resists the urge to remember, struggles to push down the persistent memory.
Like a wound that just won't heal it's something that he can never forget. He relives it daily, every night wallowing in the tragedy. The bottom of a bottle used to grant peace. The liquor providing him the senseless stupor of nothingness he so desperately needed. In those moments he could forget, for a while at least, but the whiskey wouldn't wash it away anymore. The drink was never strong enough and the memory was too engrained. His tolerance for the alcohol too high.
Unable to resist, he relented as the memories flooded back, flashing and fragmented. The choking smell of thick black smoke, bright red flames of a burning house licking at the night sky, the red and blue lights of police cars. Stretchers were being lifted into an ambulance, one gurney covered with a white sheet, underneath it the shape of a body much too small to belong there.
I should have been there!
The guilt and remorse ate at him, chipping away his resolve, constantly withering him away into a mere husk of the man he used to be.
Another glass of whiskey passed his lips. The liquor helped ease the worst of it and dull the edge of the guilt blade that pressed against his heart.
Williams sighed deeply, temporarily willing away the memory and once again settled into the detached persona that had consumed him. The one that his job, his sole purpose, needed him to be. Returning to his work he resumed typing, his fingers tapping the laptop keys thoughtfully as he recounted everything he had learned.
SUBJECT# 1088, Akasuki Miyamoto
LOCATION: Noshiro, Japan
THREAT LEVEL: Class 1
ADEPT CLASSIFICATION: Flora Manipulation
GENDER: Female
AGE: 23
GENEALOGY: Saitō Line
REPORT:
Subject was discovered via social media data mining network. Abnormal magical phenomena in the area indicated presence of a Guardian. Examples include images and videos depicting trees shaped unnaturally into sculpture like figures. Further investigation revealed subject engaging in unnatural growth and manipulation of plants and trees. Subject threat level considered low. Recommend capture.
SUBJECT# 1089, Marcus Kane
LOCATION: Bristol, United States
THREAT LEVEL: Unclassified
ADEPT CLASSIFICATION: Regeneration, Electrical Manipulation, Enhanced Strength, +?
GENDER: Male
AGE: 18
GENEALOGY: Unknown
REPORT:
Subject was discovered while conducting operation Recall in pursuing the existence of an artifact believed to be of Guardian origin. It appears the intended destination of the artifact, item #A170, was the subject. The subject is unaware of his lineage and has encountered the artifact unintentionally. Threat to public safety and secrecy is considered very high. Power levels are far beyond the scope of measurement equipment. Subject has no control of his abilities which has resulted in the death of several individuals. Repeat. Subject has killed. I am unsure how he is able to harm humans at this time. Recommend immediate elimination of subject."
Williams finished the last report and attached them both to an encrypted email. Clicking send, he waited patiently for a reply. Removing a pack of cigarettes from his shirt pocket, he withdrew one, and lit it. The orange glow reflecting briefly in his eyes as he drew in the smoke. Pouring yet another glass of whiskey he sipped it casually, washing away the bitter ashen taste. As he did, he played the surveillance video again.
The camera was pointed down toward the street. Visibility was poor on account of the orange haze and blowing snow, but he could begin to see the boy and a group of four others following him. The boy had stopped and turned around to confront them. It looked like they were talking for a moment before the fight broke out. Then, out numbered and with no weapon of his own, it was only a matter of time before the Kane boy was on the ground. The knife surprised him though. He hadn't expected that.
Maybe the kid deserved it. He considered.
Then he watched as the boy he knew as Marcus began glowing electric blue, the spectacle being one he was all too familiar with. The explosion of energy sent a shockwave in all directions. The boys who had attacked him were motionless on the ground, no doubt killed on impact. It was the first time he had ever seen a Guardian kill. It wasn't supposed to be possible. They had told him that Guardians were physically incapable of hurting humans. The sheer magnitude surprised him as well. He was astonishingly powerful for his age.
He pondered how a threat like Marcus, who by all accounts had seemed like a normal human kid before, had escaped their notice for so long. They had spies and informants everywhere, social media and web tracking algorithms, satellite imagery, communication logs, and yet he had evaded them for eighteen years? The boy doesn't even know what he is and then nearly reveals everything to the world on national news. Something didn't make sense. Somebody had to be hiding him and had gone to great lengths to ensure he stay that way.
An email notification brought his attention back to the computer. Opening it, he found his reply. Both report documents were stamped with the agency's approval. Akasuki Miyamoto's had "AQUIRE" stamped green in large blocky letters. Marcus Kane's was stamped a menacing "TERMINATE" in red.
Williams wasn't surprised. The Kane boy was probably one of the largest threats they had ever witness. At the moment he was vulnerable but if he had time to grow his strength and hone his abilities... who knows how powerful he could become. With his ability to kill it could mean the end of everything. Closing the documents, he read the attached orders.
"Subject 1089 is to receive your full attention. Another unit will be dispatched to collect 1088. Eliminate the target and recover item # A170 at all costs. Civilian casualties permissible. Class three resources have been approved for this mission."
Williams closed the laptop and stowed it. Then stooped down and reached beneath the bed and removed a long case. Unclasping the buckles, he opened it to reveal a long sleek looking weapon. The M98B sniper rifle boasted a thick silencer, bipod, and 6x zoom scope. He picked it up, inspecting it carefully as he racked the bolt. The kid didn't have a chance. Soon he would be gone. Wiped off the face of the earth like he never existed. If anyone cared for the foster boy at all, his only legacy would be another poster on the wall of missing persons.
Setting it aside he revealed another sealed case labeled "CLASS 3" from beneath the desk. Its buckles clicked as he opened it. Inside, carefully padded and sealed, were rows of .338 bullets. Not metal, no. Something very different in fact. Specially developed, apart from the casing, each bullet was cast in a dark crimson red material. Williams picked one from the box admiring it and let a rare smirk slip as he loaded them, one by one, into the magazine.
YOU ARE READING
Meridian: Fall of the Guardians
MaceraSet in the future, Earth has become desolate and barren. Generations of waste have polluted the atmosphere and caused a permanent winter. Marcus Kane has had a rough upbringing, struggling with abuse, solitude, and social hardship. His only goal is...
