This is the Prologue to my book series 'The Department Of Supernatural Cooperation and Organization Files'. The series follows a young man as he enters the town of the Departments base in New City, Maine. A series of events leads him to end up getting recruited by the Organization. Neil (the main character) is thrust into a completely new world from his own, or what he thought was his own. Secrets upon secrets start to unravel, and even the world Neil would have imagined the Supernatural world to be like, isn"™t at all what it appears. This is NOT a traditional supernatural story. Ghosts and vampires are written out, and werewolves are a myth that"™s how infrequently they are mentioned. Hold on for a twisted ride, nothing is as it seems.
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The day had finally come, you could sense it in the air. That of- determination? Wind ripped around the small group gathered on the flat plateau on the peak of the mountain, blowing their long garments all around. Patiently or not they were all waiting for the last piece of the puzzle to fall into place, and for the final one to join them.
No one spoke, none of them trusted the others. Given half a choice none of them would want to be here at all, except maybe Asphut, and the rest knew that he wasn"t of sound mind. They did all have something to lose though, a mutual interest to be protected. All creatures, great and small, drew from the same well for their strength, Potential Essence, it was called.
Not all creatures could hold the same amount. Some species could hold more than others, some individuals more than their peers, it all depended. Fewer peers meant fewer people to share the well with. As the well was of finite size, it was never going to get bigger.
That threatened everything, with the rapid increase in others like them, inferior naturally, but similar, something was happening to the natural balance of things. With the addition of others less powerful than themselves, the greats were losing their grip on strength, and they were all chagrin to be losing it.
That"s what brought this motely group together. They all had incredible Potential, they were all uniquely strong, but separate they could do nothing to stop their diminishing power. Only together could they hope to make a difference in securing their combined futures and gaining control of The Potential Essence. It didn"t mean that they called each other "˜Allies" now, however. That"s why The Pact was necessary, The Ultimate Pact as many of the group had begun to call it.
Lightning struck the ground close to where they were all standing, and a woman emerged. How she loved a good entrance. Striding over she joined the small circle, but still somehow managed to make herself appear the one in charge.
"Sister, you"re late." A man spoke from behind his cloak covered face.
The new comer turned to him. She looked him directly in the eyes, despite not being able to see them in the shrouded light, with the sun at its apex overhead. "You couldn"t move forward without me, right?" Brother and sister began to stare down the other. "I was busy with my side of things. I came when I could, therefore I"m not late, I"m precisely on time then." The brother finally turned away, causing the sister to smile slyly. "Does anyone else have any problems to address before we Rent the world in two?"
No one spoke up, of course they didn"t. The siblings were singularly the most powerful two people in the Pact, and if the Brother didn"t say anything more, the others couldn"t either. Sister smiled triumphant, this time openly. "Good, everything has fallen into place, soon the seven of us will be the only ones contending for Potential Essence. No longer will our power be bogged down from excessive use of lesser beings."
"You are sure this will work? If we slip up even a little, and it doesn"t thoroughly work, we will be in mortal danger from your Father. Even combined we may not be able to subdue him. If we can"t do that, he can just create more minions to steal the Essence from us, undoing everything we have schemed these past decades." Another woman in the circle spoke up, this one was much more fashionably dressed than the rest. Her gown was made out of the deepest purple, a rare and expensive color, with the softest material made on earth yet to date.
"You are as empty headed as I first suspected. One doesn"t have to be able to tell the future to be able to see that you will never change. You will be just as lose minded in the future as when I first laid eyes on you all those years ago." Sister replied menacingly. The other woman balked but didn"t speak up again. "We have been over the Pact too many times, and are too close to completion to go over it again. I am the best prophetess this world has or will ever know, I can see that we will be successful, and with not much thanks to you."
Sister"s words rang out, striking everyone there. This was not a woman to mess with. They may have all been the brawn to the plan of over throwing their tyrannical Father, but she was the brains. Without her help they would never have been able to cover their tracks to keep themselves hidden from Father.
"I have been dealing with the issue of our Father. He believes he is immortal and can"t be killed. I can tell you now that that is not the case. Once we Rent the world in two, and all his inferior minions are taken care of we can move forward and end the bastard once and for all." Brother replied, drawing attention to himself.
Sister let out a cry. The others started. Brother didn"t however, she was in the grips of a heavy prophecy. She used to get them all the time when they were younger, she was used to them by now, but she loved the attention. She purposely cried out when she felt one coming, if only to let the others know that she was special. With eyes misted over, she spoke. "It is time, no one can back out now. Prepare to change the world everyone, for today is the day that we establish ourselves as gods, once and for all!"
No one made a sound, but if the others were like the brother at all, their stomach were in knots from anticipation, this was the moment they had been waiting and preparing for, for a very long time.
Brother smiled, the others would assume he was smiling from delight at the prospect of finally being through with the plotting, the lies and deception, and he was smiling from that, but he had a few more lies up his sleeve, ones his great prophetess of a sister didn"t know about. That thought made him smile harder, Sister was going to get her dues. When that happened he would singularly be the most powerful god of them all, as soon as he vanquished his Father that was, but he had a plan. He always had a plan.
Together they joined hands and began the spell that would forever alter history.
* * *
The call had gone out. He wasn"t entirely sure who or what had made the call, not that it was an audible call, others apparently hadn"t heard it, as they acted like he was crazy when questioned about the Voice from the sky. But he had heard something, he was sure.
Vulgar glanced upwards again from whence the call had come. Nothing, nothing but the pitch black of night. It wasn"t even noteworthy to mention that it was nighttime, or dark, as it was perpetually dusk, an eternity of gloom. Just another day.
It became difficult to know when one day started, and another stopped. For that reason everyone was expected to keep time-pieces, and yet, time didn"t matter so much here, not above ground at least. Above ground the poor lived, the ones that had to risk themselves going into the poorly lit farms to feed the rest. If you weren"t a farmer, you were a soldier, or a Crafter, which was just a nice word for someone that was expected to be handy with thread and needle, as much as with hammer and nail.
Vulgar wasn"t classified as any of those though, he was something different, someone special, someone forgotten. He had long ago learned about his unique skills, and had spent his life learning, growing, and honing them. Because of his particular disposition, he hadn"t had to seek the Guardianship like so many other streets urchins like himself. He didn"t have to risk his life out in the farms, away from the city lights and relative safety from the creatures that preyed in the darkness. With his skills he didn"t have to learn how to sew, build, or clean. Because of his powers he had more time than three-fourths of the population, the only ones with as much free time were the very- very young, and sickly. Not even the elders got off, everyone was required to work, Vulgar"s job was just a little different, he traded in secrets.
Below ground the wealthy lived. The ones that had been just like them, they were always told. Vulgar had never seen the Underground Utopia, not till recently. The stories didn"t do the Utopia justice, they didn"t scratch upon the surface of how the wealthy really lived. That secret was one of the only ones he carried that scared him. Even when he had learned something people would do anything to keep quiet, he had never been forced to run, no one had been good enough to find him before. All that was too late now.
Then again, there was The Call. Vulgar dwelled on it as he slipped from shadow to shadow, staying well hidden in the streets above ground. Lights flooded the "˜Main Streets," but even those flickered and wavered. Alleyways had some lights, just enough to keep the Creatures of the Night at bay, but if those flickered, whole families would be lost.
The entire system was screwed, and now, Vulgar knew for sure. He couldn"t stay, not now, knowing what he knew. He had an obligation to let the truth out though. He was good at staying unbiased, which is why people sought him out to find secrets, he would remain neutral. But this was bad, the aristocracy had tipped the balance in their favor, and they remained in control, while violating nature and the natural course of things. Vulgar wouldn"t be able to do anything here for a while, but he would let the truth out.
Writing a quick note back in his secret quarters, he compiled some papers and evidence to back his statements up. That was another trait that his clients liked, he was thorough, detailed, and brought evidence. Looking around his hide-away one last time, he once again made out into the everlasting night.
Walking the half-clip to his Communication Port, he concealed the envelope, only two others could ever possibly hope to find this. Both of them were his protégés, street chil"n he had rescued out of unexplained compulsion. He never let onto anyone else that he had adopted two children, raised them, and provided for them. The people he worked for would use that as a weakness and hold it against him.
Vulgar felt a sudden, unexpected twisting of his gut. He felt bad that he wouldn"t be able to say good-bye to his chil"n, but when he didn"t return after a week or two, they would seek him out, and they would come here. They could then discover the truth of what he knew and why he had to leave, and when he would hopefully be back. He promised them that this wasn"t a farewell, but a "˜till later" letter. Deep down he knew that what he was about to try hadn"t been done before, at least not in a long, long time, and because of this, he was setting out on uncharted territory.
Leaving his Communication Port he began the trek to a spot where he could be in silence, but safe from any Creatures, when the lights around him began to flicker and dim. This wasn"t unusual, but it felt different to Vulgar, maybe he was just paranoid now, but with good reason. He was a street urchin that had passed below the level of the Merchant Class, and into the wealthy commune; not only that, he had stolen a powerful medallion from the Czar.
How could he have known what he would see, or how he would be tempted down below when the man had hired him? The client had been like any other, shady, powerful, and wouldn"t reveal his identity. The pay was good though, beyond good. What he had made he hide away in another spot where his chil"n could find it, and be set for life.
Vulgar never stole, that was beneath him. If he needed something, he would earn it. The other street urchins stole, but he bartered. That was what set him apart in the first place. He started young, and he thought he had been good back then, but he was a master now, at barely 25 Full Cycles. This time, below ground, things were different. While he had been Sleuthing, he had come across the Czar"s personal chambers. When he made it inside, he had been drawn in by the medallion. As soon as he laid eyes on it, it beckoned him.
It had been laid behind some fine protective shields and alarms, but that hadn"t stopped Vulgar from taking it. It had blown his cover though. As he was escaping he couldn"t help but feel it was worth it, even if he was now on the run.
The lights completely went out, and men and woman down the street began to scream. He couldn"t blame them, lights going out was always, always bad news. Darkness swallowed them, and the howling began. Creatures were onto the helpless citizens in seconds. Vulgar blinked his eyes, and his vision switched to be able to see into the night.
A winged beast was coming in quick. Vulgar dove to the side, grabbing the metal rod in his right hand as he did. Hitting the ground he focused his mental frequencies to the blade, which responded immediately, and a glowing yellow blade grew from the end of the otherwise harmless rod. A small spike appeared on the back end, giving it an even deadlier look.
Sweeping the blade into the beast"s path, it couldn"t stop in time, and it impaled and then severed itself in half. People screamed all around him, ravaged by the Creatures. Soldiers responded, but there were just too many. Had all the lights gone out? This time it was definitely different.
Decision time. The Czar was clearly after him, he did have something of incredible power. On the other hand, his chil"n were more at risk than he had suspected, they would depend on him at a time like this. However, he had to escape now, and answer The Call, or never have the chance again and fail not only his protégés, but everyone. Making his mind up, he booked it towards a spare generator that he had hidden in a storage unit, double checking he still had the medallion tucked away.
He had to fight a few more Creatures in his path, but only when he absolutely had to. He had to be fast, the Czar"s men were gaining on him. He wasn"t sure how he knew, but with the power increase of the Medallion who was to say how powerful he now was.
In the relative safety of his storage unit, with a generator going to supply protective light, he began his work immediately. Grabbing some chalk, he sketched the design he saw before his eyes. It was a beautiful image, he could only hope to capture a tenth of its beauty.
Vulgar wasn"t sure how long it had taken him, he hadn"t paid attention to his time-piece, but he was sweating and the portrait before him was intricate and magnificent. He sat in the middle, and chanted the song he heard in his minds ear. His body began to vibrate, it had begun.
He had a fleeting moment of renewed guilt at leaving his protégés, yet he had given them everything he could, protected them, provided for them, and trained them to defend themselves. For now they would be on their own.
His body vibrated harder, and he knew euphorically that he had done it. The storage door blew open, and a glowing orange net shot out towards Vulgar, he didn"t move to block himself, it was too late, they were too late, he was already gone. Laughing, he disappeared in an overwhelming bright light.
Still good formatting? This is Prologue, so technically everythingy you have read is after this. The above scenes don't have an impact on Book One Directly, but come later books its very important, and will leave you breathless! (thats my hope at least)!
Love the feedback! Thanks KT and others!