In a dark alley-way, a man, dressed all in black, was hidden behind dumpsters, observing afar a young man. He finally found him after months and months of research. Since this mission was given to him by the master himself.
Three months earlier, while conducting intense training with the bodyguards of the master, Command came to him and ordered him to follow. They went deep inside the castle, to the master room at the end of a long corridor. When they entered, the room was silent, windows closed, no furniture were visible, only a large bed with a bedside table and few monitors weakly illuminating the headboard. There was a man, middle age, lying in the bed. Monitors’ sounds were in rhythm with the master’s heartbeat. The two men came closer to the foot of the bed then kneeled to pledge their allegiance. ‘Good morning, Sir Malgers.’ they said in synchronization. ‘Sir, this is N.4, the most efficient tracker i trained.’ continued Command. Monitors’ sounds reigned again. After a moment, the master’s arm raised slowly. The nurse, who stood aside of his bed, came closer and listened to what her master was whispering to her. As soon as he finished, she repeated with her sharp loud voice: ‘Find him and bring him to me… Alive.’ ‘Yes, Sir’ they replied in union. The two servants stood up, turned their back and left their master alone with his nurses. As he was about to close the door, N.4 dared to take a glance at his master, as he never saw his face before. But as soon as he met the gaze of the master, the ground disappeared under his feet. He felt himself falling into a huge gap leading to hell. Suddenly, the door closed on him and he found himself in the corridor. The ground has returned. ‘Don’t EVER do that again’ whispered Command.
The tracker started his journey across the country the day after his assignment. He began where everything toppled: at Cal Malgers’ manor. He looked for evidences amongst rubble: traces of blood, aura residue or fingerprints that can give him any direction to follow. After a close observation, he noticed some aura particles here and there, heading toward East. They were tiny but sufficient for him. On his way, he found other evidences leading him to South America, Australia, Canada, Japan, back in Nevada, then Florida. In Miami, he stopped following stupidly obvious clues and started to look more deeply. That brought him to New York where he lost his target. Then began a long period of wandering.
His food wasn’t healthy: he only ate triangular sandwiches without any taste, from supermarket opened 24/7. Then, one day, he decided to offer himself a real meal with flavor: he chose to buy hot-dogs. He engulfed a dozen of them then went to Central Park to digest everything. He completely forgot about his mission and took a nap. When he woke up, he descried the silhouette he desperately looked for. He followed it closely. He was afraid to lose sight of it when he had looked for more than six months. His spinning was going well. He didn’t let his prey with a sole and was sure he wasn’t spotted. He was proud of himself and thought about his future reward when he will capture his victim.
Master and Command would be very happy with his capture. But first, he needed to establish a plan, the man he was about to kidnap is still the one who put his ailing almighty master. But when he came back to his senses, he lost his prey. Again. He panicked. He scanned the main street. Cars, which were traveling in headlights, blocked his vision. He ran on the sidewalk, exposing himself, then rushed to cross the street. Two cars almost hit him, He ran to the opposite direction for few meters, stopped, out of breath and grabbed his phone. One ringtone. Two ringtones. He waited nervously. He started to sweat. At the forth tone, someone picked up. ‘N.4 speaking.’ He paused. ‘I…I lost him.’ A silence fell. Cold sweats trickled on his forehead. His hands were trembling. His eyes scanned every inch of the street, hoping to find him. His heart beat fast and his legs ran everywhere. The pressure of the silence drove him crazy. ‘Find him or you better make sure, i don’t find you.’ His anxiety turned into fear. All his senses were in alert. His throat was closing, it was hard to swallow. The person on the phone hanged up without saying another word.
Furious about the news he just heard, Cal Malgers tried to stand up off of his bed, ignoring doctor’s orders. We could feel and see his frustration: a deadly aura began to rise but didn’t last. His wounds weakened him. A silhouette appeared in the door frame. She approached slowly, with a walking stick.
– ‘What… do you… want, old lady?’
– ‘I’m asking you, Cal.’
– ‘Power’ he replied.
– ‘Only power?’
– ‘What d’you… mean?’
The old lady stared at him intensely then directed her look to his right eye. He had a reflex and passed his hand on his wound as if the pain was as intense as when it was made. A light appeared in his eye: ‘And his death.’
To be continued