Introduction : Opening the Door

There is an inevitability to life. For example it was inevitable that she would wake up that morning to see the sun streaking through her green curtains. It was inevitable that when she walked down the hall from her room she would notice the door. It was also inevitable that upon finding that this door honestly had not been there the previous day, she would take the brass door knob into her hand and turn, swinging the plank of wood to the side and thus spawning the situation we now find ourselves in.

What situation might the bystander ponder? Only the end of our lives as we knew them. Of course, she didn't know that. How could she know? That her one simple act would forever change the future of mankind. After all, all she did was open the door.

Chapter One: Neiva Ross

Neiva dealt out a heavy punch to the thugs face. Crushing the nasal bone and shattering the front part of the zygomatic bone. A wicked smirk curving her lips at his pained grunt, she kept her fist there and ground it into his shattered face. The satisfied gleam in her eyes only growing as tears fell down the meat heads destroyed cheeks. She heard heavy footsteps running towards the vulnerable position she held on the floor and moved to the right. Falling onto her left and side kicking the oncoming man in the groin, using the momentum to push him back, leaving her enough time to swing to her feet as she hammered the back of her left fist into the second gorilla's neck.

Neiva took a step back, surveying the scene with harsh distaste in her eyes. She scoffed at the sight of the three full grown men on the ground, either whimpering in pain or unconscious. "Pathetic," the girls voice rang clear with disgust, a leaders voice. "If you want to attack me you will have to do better than that. Fierce green eyes rolled as she strode to the thug with the injured groin and dropped a business card on his heaving chest. "Tell your coward of a boss that if he wants me gone, he's going to have to do a lot more than sending three of his dumbest monkeys after me." She looked down on his glare unflinchingly and swung her heavy booted foot towards his head. "Adios Loser." Walking away as his head snapped to the side and he, like the others, was oblivious to the world.

Chapter Two: Flea Bags

The stained steel door slid open with a spiteful hiss, the video lock recognizing her face as she barged into the concrete building. A scowl heavy on her face. Two burly sentries nodding to her in respect, her own bobbing once in acknowledgment. She stalked deeper into the scruffy structure, past three different checkpoints and one trick door before she found herself in the golden lit central room.

"Hey there Boss!" A grinning monster of a man greeted Neiva. Falling into step behind her as he cheerfully awaited her gruff greeting.
"What do ya' want Grover."
His gravely laugh punctuated her sentence.
"Well, we heard you ran into a little problem down by the westerly side. And wanted ta' know the score." A snort came from the smaller person in front of him.
"Please, it was a joke." Came the offended reply. "It was only three of JaX's idiot cronies. Took less than five minutes." Another derisive snort accompanied her irritated grumble. " Was a damn waste of time..."
The man named Grover barked out a laugh at that a satisfied glint in his eyes.
"Who'da thought. What with all the hell JaX's been raisin' about it we thought it was some sorta all out brawl!" They continued walking into the center of the room, his laughter ringing throughout the large caverns of the building.


"What do ya' got for me Des!" The girl barked to a lanky limbed ginger sitting up on the raised pedestal on far side of the room. His pale fingers flying on the heat sensory keypad as candy blue eyes fixated on the screen. Swiftly he spun his chair around when her combat boots hit the first of four steps. A mischievous smirk alight on his freckled features.
"Well, well, well, if the Queen hasn't returned. Heard you started a street battle on your 'little walk'." He taunted.
"Shut it Des an' tell me what cha' got."
Des chuckled good naturedly at the growled remark. ""Alrighty then, Dont tell me. S'not like i cant just look it up on the street cam's anyways." An impatient growl reached his ears." But more on that later. Besides its not what i

have for you today that matters just now your Lordlyness. Looks like we found a Streetwalker in the Northern Grid." The tech geek grinned like an imp at the news. "Quite the disturbance it caused too, seeing as the guys obviously military." Her face didn't change as she ascended the stairs, Acidic green eyes flicking to the screen in a wordless command that the boy obeyed instinctively.
"So, you know what we do to dogs." Intelligent blue eyes narrowed, the reckless smirk still ever present as be brought the mans picture up on the monitor.
"We put 'em down. Thing is this dog says he's tired of bein' covered in fleas. Says he wants ta' talk to you."
"Me."
"Well, actually he said he wanted to talk to the 'Boss-man', which as we all know, is you."
Suspicion engraved itself around her eyes, cupids bow lips tightened, jaw muscles clenched.
"Who found him?"
His smirk grew. "Doc an' Louie, who else?"
The irritated growl was spat between clenched teeth, "They just love ta' piss me off!" Whipping around she marched to one of the side doors, barely listening to Des's yelled location. "They're in the THIRD Locker!"
"Yea, yea, got it." Being the only answer he got as the steel door slammed shut.

______________________________________________________________

Nieva's leather clad feet marched along the stone corridor as it sloped downward, the orange lighting casting warped shadows beside her.
" So Boss, what 'cha gonna do to Doc an' Louie ?"
"Lets just say I'm

not going to do anything to them. But if anything should happen to them in the next oh...three days. I'm prepared to look the other way..."
The sentence trailed off threateningly. Grover's grin growing slightly more malevolent as he planned payback for all the pranks the duo had pulled on him in the past.
"That sounds like an excellent

idea your ladyship."
"Doesn't it? Ah well, lets go meet the latest stray Grover." A devilish chuckle escaped her lips. " I do hope he's potty trained..."
The raucous laughter followed them into the underbelly of their headquarters, bouncing eerily along the crudely carved walls.

Chapter Three: Working Dog

Rule 1: Never Assume. Know.

Russel Wood was not a brave man. In fact it would be more accurate to call him a coward. He jumped at shadows, he despised being alone, and he ran away from fights. No, Russel was not a brave man at all. But if there was one thing he was good at it was lying. He would do it instinctively, the falsities springing to his lips before any memory of the truth could emerge. A despicable talent, one that most people would be loath to admit. But then Russel thought most people were morons. He took pride in his gift. Rejoiced in the fact that from the age of six no one had been able to distinguish fact from fiction when the words came from him, so smooth was his tongue of silver.
It never bothered him that few people ever believed a word he uttered nowadays. He made people think, he inspired their dormant neurons to flare and synapses to fire. Like gas to an engine, he liked to see their brains leap to life, the effect to his cause. Still though, being a good liar was the only reason the military hadn't killed him yet. The only reason that he was here now. Chained to the floor in a small, steel room. The heavy chains forcing him to bow on his knees to the unopened door. The unforgiving cement hard on his aching knee's.
"Just because my knees aren't what they used to be does not

mean that i am getting old! Its that damn injury, and nothing

else!"
"Hey Doggie" A mean spirited voice sneered at him, "Shut da' fuck up."
Russel looked at the delinquent from the corner of his eyes. "Brat." He muttered bitterly. The other boy on side just snickered at him.
"Just remember it was you who asked ta' be here."
Ah yes, there is that.

That was why he was currently in the depths of the rats nest that was Ace Corporation's Headquarters. Why he was currently locked in the headquarters of one of gangland's most notorious overlords. The military had always known of his specific...skill. Always hinting but never squishing it out of him like they had with so many others.
He had always assumed it was because of his family. Four generations of military service, each generation reaching at least as far as colonel. His own father a Brigadier General and still rising. Russel had always assumed it had been because of his family. But when he been called into his commanders office and lead to one of the "Clean Rooms", a room devoid of any of the undetectable recording bugs; a room that technically didn't exist, he'd found out how very wrong he was.
The military had been having trouble with the so called "Gangs" for as long as he could remember. Ever since they had all gotten smart and made their delinquent alliances "legal" by making them into corporations, Businesses. Any gang that actually meant something took on the name Corporation.
Their logos were everywhere: BlueBird inc., Whitecap inc., JaX inc., Japa inc., etc. They were everywhere. The big-shots, with their names engraved onto almost everything. They ran the world when the military just ran around pretending they could. Therein lied the issue. The military needed that control otherwise anarchy would ensue. Tearing down the newly rebuilt world order.
This was the way the world had been for the last three decades. Every culture known to man had been combined and separated into three different levels. The military ruled, a class unto themselves, the highest level of people, the good guys...so they said. They ruled obsessively it seemed. Monitoring what the haloscreens could show. Everything on the internet was meticulously censored. There was no religion, only the military's word, which was law, which was the only law that mattered. The message was simple: The military was god.
Then there were the Streetwalkers. The average, everyday, citizens. The keystone of the economy. So long as they didn't do anything deemed too disruptive they were usually left alone.
Finally there was the last level, The Underworld, also known as permano rebelous, or even as the Gates of Hell. No one who didn't belong to the Corporations went down there. Not if they wanted to live. Especially if you were military, the most hated scum to the stone hearted anarchists. This, posed a problem. One that Russel was supposedly, going to fix, whether he liked it or not.
Russel sighed under his breath, "This sucks."
"You think this sucks now?" The second boy spoke again, this time amusement leaking into his words. " Jus' you wait 'till the Boss gets here." He giggled maniacally. The first boy laughing eagerly as well "Dude your Doomed!" The both of them bursting with uncontrolled glee.
Just then the door slammed open with a fierce metal bang.
"So glad you boys think this is funny." A deep voice boomed from the menacing maw of the now open doorway. A giant monolith of a man standing where the door used to be. 'oh Hell,'

the only thought Russel was able to process. 'I'm Screwed!'

Impressum

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 24.01.2012

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