Her Knight In Rusty Armor

Chapter VIII

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I scrolled down the Google homepage with my elbow propped against the golden-legged marble table's surface, a cup of coffee resting in my other hand.

The headlines were rather... graphic, I'd say.

A woman, quite aged, found missing as her relatives wreak into havoc...

A whole family of five found murdered in their beds, with all the belongings in their house gone missing...

American Daily Express

Clearly, the other party was getting quite desperate.

Killing tonnes of innocent souls without realising whatever the hell of a damage they were inflicting upon humanity, all of that just to gain materialistic means and to get their eyes on one valuable treasure which would always remain out of their reach.

And that was a promise, on my behalf.

This world was slowly transforming into an actual representation of hell, perhaps even worse than hell itself. If only I could lay my hands on the cursed man leading these bizarre activities, then I would never let him walk on his own two feet ever again.

I was so deep in thought that I had a mini heart-attack when my phone rang with a call from Marc. He was always updated about everything and anything, even pieces of information that I was never enlightened about. I silently wondered if one of his computers was plugged into his brain through a socket or something.

I answered the call after three rings.

"'Sup, homeslice," I said, tracing my finger along the brim of my cup. The youth around me in the cafeteria gossiped in hushed tones about God knows what; I could only wonder what their topics of conversation were.

"You know what's up," he mumbled uneasily, and I slightly frowned at his agitation.

"Yeah, the news..." I tried to play it off coolly, unable to fully hide the hoarseness in my voice.

"Yep, we better take care of this. Mr Dave needs to assert his dominance over those brutes... As for you, promise me you'll stay safe?"

"Yeah, promise. And you need to take care of yourself, too. Kate's in my hands," I declared without a waver in my tone, absently balling my hand into a fist.

"Good. Keep your inner eye open."

"I never let it blink, buddy," I mused, and I could only imagine him smiling on the other side.

We talked for a while and I sipped on my warm coffee simultaneously. The glass window beside me was completely fogged up, millions of glistening raindrops running down its crystalline surface. It was currently drizzling outside, the windowpane dripping with small beads of water which plopped onto the pavement outside.

Through the fogged up window, I caught the blurry face of a guy advancing forward towards me. I bade Marc farewell and intently gazed at the boy's face which grew nearer as each second passed. I almost jumped in my chair when someone tapped me on my shoulder, realising only then that the face I saw in the window was just the actual boy's reflection.

We both were staring at each other now.

I shifted awkwardly in my seat.

"Hey?" The word came out as a question rather than a statement.

His thin lips broke out into a small grin. "'Ello," his deep voice slurred out; I caught onto the Aussie inside him. He stuck an open hand forward, and continued, "I'm Nathan, but you can call me Nate. Nice to meet ya."