Masked

by G S Michaelson

  “You’re bluffing.”

  “Am I?” Rocky tossed a chunk of the broken lamp post into the air. It was instantly blown away by an attack from an unseen sniper.

  “Don’t bother looking.” He said as Lionel’s eyes began to dart about. “You’ll never see her.”

  “Too bad you’re resorting to such cowardly tactics,” Lionel said, “I really wanted to have a match with you.”

  “This is for your own good.” Rocky replied, “If you thought Alfred and Quinn were a handful, realise there are six of us. With Caine here, you’ll need an army to stand a chance.

  “And yet, you haven’t killed me?”

  The mask poured on his face. Claws flashed through the air. Lionel collapsed to the ground, clutching his side.

  “Don’t push your luck.” A now masked Rocky said, blood dripping from his fingers. “I can still maul you as much as I want.”

  Lionel started to reply. Then both combatants leapt aside as the ground was ripped up below them.

  Wind Slicer!

  Tyrone was first on the scene as soon as Rocky masked up. Eva was close behind him.

  “So you brought back up.” Rocky replied, “Though I thought they’d keep up the charade for a while longer.”

  “You’re under arrest.” Tyrone yelled, firing spells at him, “Surrender now.”

  “And to think I made such a generous offer.” Rocky ripped up the street, kicking bits of loose concrete and dust towards Tyrone. Eva leapt ahead to fire at him, but she was forced back by the sniper’s attacks.

  Looking into the sky, she could about feel several more attacks coming from the unseen attacker.

  A wall of industria protected them, but it also kept them occupied just enough that Rocky stole away in the confusion.

  “Rocky’s gone,” Tyrone said.

  “And so should we.” Eva replied, “We risk being caught in another incident.”

  Tyrone heard the sound of approaching sirens, and knew she was right. The trio stole away in the dead of night, and Draekeor would record another attack by the beast men.

  * * *

  Hours later, all the Sabres had gathered in Tyrone’s motel room - sans the Centurions. It was cramped and smelled of sweat and takeaway food, but they didn’t want to receive a scolding just yet. It would do as an impromptu meeting room. Eva filled everyone in on what had happened. Bart smirked at Lionel but covered it up quickly with a more appropriate look of disappointment when Deidre glared at him. Aiden quietly sat, taking it all in. The pen rolled between his fingers.

  “Lionel, what the hell were you thinking?” Deidre exploded. Her voice raised above her normally calm tone. “You deliberately sought out contact with Masquerade on your own. You could have been killed.”

  “I’m sorry, I was thinking I might solve this case and be a little proactive.” The Sabre rolled his eyes. “If I had captured him or even gotten a lead to where they were selling. Look, Eva, you said he had some interest in me.”

  “Don’t put this on me, Lionel,” Eva replied, “You put everyone in jeopardy, we didn’t even get your foolhardy message until you had already engaged. When we came in, you were on the verge of being shot to death.”

  “I didn’t die. I trusted you guys.”

  “We face these guys before— we got destroyed,” Eva replied, “What if you had been ambushed? What if we all had? What then?”

  “I had faith in you guys. You pulled through, no harm done. ”

  Lionel sounded less sure about his actions this time. Tyrone placed a firm hand on his shoulder.

  “We’re a team, Lionel. We should move together.”

  “Tyrone. Take your hands off me.”

  “Everybody just take a deep breath.” Aiden spoke up, “The Centurions won’t be happy to learn about this, so we keep this under wraps until we have something more concrete.”

  “Well, you’ve never seen an event you didn’t want to control. Have you?” Lionel replied, “I’ll do what I want in this case.”

  “That’s not it. That’s not it at all.” Aiden replied, “I’m simply considering all the variables here.”

  “Lionel, please lay off him,” Eva said, “He’s trying to sort this out.”

  “Did you at least get any actionable intel?” Deidre asked.

  “Sorry.” Lionel relented, “You know all of it.”

  “Ok. We can still salvage this.” Aiden pulled out his notebook. The others waited with bated breath as he scribbled down the key points. Six Masquerade members. Caine. Seven enemies. A sniper. Beast Boost. So many key points and links confirmed in one night. It had been foolish for Lionel to make the trip alone. But such foolishness was consistent with his personality. And the results? He had them. That much was at least commendable. An idea popped into his head, and he started speaking as quickly as he could articulate it.

  “Ok, I’ve got it. With my meeting from yesterday in the library, and with this intel — I think I’ve —”

  Don’t think about it too much.

  He paused. “—What was that?”

  Deidre raised an eyebrow “What was what?”

  Aiden replied, “I thought I—”

  Stop talking.

  The idea that had taken form began to turn into mist, blown away from Aiden’s mental grasp.

  “Aiden?” Bart prompted. “Are you still with us?”

  “I’m sorry,” Aiden replied,“I thought I had an idea, but then it just slipped away from me.”

  The voice in his head seemed to reply, but Aiden would be unable to recall it once it finished speaking. The presence that had latched unto all of them the moment they had entered Draekeor.

  It cackled with glee, before its words faded into nothing.

  That’s correct. As long as I’m here, all ideas will slip away from you. You’ll never solve this case. Not one of you.

  * * *

  “That could have gone better,” Rocky watched them escape. “Though I’d have preferred Tyrone be the one who engaged me.”

  “He’s Juniper’s friend from his old life.” Peach said, “One that found him after you left him.”

  “The curse of social media.” Rocky replied, “Lionel wasn’t bad as far as substitutes go.”

  “That’s not simply because he’s a bit like you then?”

  “Not at all. I’m not that vain.” Rocky’s voice dripped with faux innocence. Peach smiled at that. She liked his manner. That’s why they had been friends for years as well. Then her face clouded.

  “This was a stupid stunt. You know I’ll have to tell Caine or Jack what you just did.”

  “I wasn’t ordered to kill them.”

  “Not directly.” Peach said, “But you went too far warning them to go away.”

  “You aren’t going to snitch on me are you?” Rocky blew her a kiss as he walked away. “I don’t care either way. Jack’ll probably get mad, but he’ll get over it quickly.”

  As Peach watched him walk away, she wondered whether he was as consequence-free as he liked to project.

  Chapter 22 - Rocky

  WestScarlet

  Aslog.

  10 Years Ago.

  It was the year after a madman had unleashed a weapon on the most populous city on the continent. The Legion covered it up, so the ordinary people didn’t know who or what had caused the Phoenix to turn on them. To them, it was simply a natural disaster. A fiery force of nature had set ablaze the city, and lives would never be the same. The Phoenix’s attack had left many orphans. The fire had burned homes, had claimed families, traumatised people. Just like that, so many lives had been shattered.

  In the months to follow, some would observe that not enough resources were going towards getting the people back on their feet. It was no one’s fault. Buildings had to be fixed. The Archion Tower had to be reconstructed. People had to be reprimanded. The thorny issue of where to keep the weapon that had caused so much pain and suffering was one that had crossed the minds of many.

  As a result,
vulnerable people simply slipped through the system and ended up on the streets with no one. Allen Rocky was one of those people. At the age of 16, he had quickly adapted to his new status quo. He needed to know that he was not the same person with a cushy life that he was before, otherwise, he would simply go insane and break down. He had no time for grief, nor regrets.

  And thus Rocky was born. With no ties and attachments to hold him down, the youth took whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. Fun was always to be found in someone else’s pocket, wallet, house or even simply in someone else.

  Then he attracted the attention of another boy, a younger one who ran in the same circles as him. The 15-year-old Juniper Rose began to follow Rocky around. Another victim of the Phoenix, Rocky would later learn. At first, he was not aware of his new found stalker, simply thinking it coincidence. Then he began to see him at the grocery store where Rocky stole his lunch. He noticed him at the laundrette where Rocky would find clean clothes. Then outside the gym, where he would shower with a stolen card. That pissed him off.

  Juniper was slammed into the wall. The wind knocked out of him. Rocky stood in front of him, all full of menace and righteous rage.

  “Why do you keep following me?” Rocky said. In his left hand, he flicked a switchblade. His right hand rested on Juniper’s shoulder, but the grip was slack. It was as if he was daring him to try and fight.

  “Because you’re cool,” Juniper sputtered, “It’s because you’re cool.”

  Rocky looked at him for a second, and then laughed so hard he fell to his knees.

  “You think I’m ‘cool’?” Rocky repeated, “Don’t ever say that crap ever again.”

  “It’s what I think.” Juniper replied, his voice quivering, “Everyone says it. You go to all the best parties, you don’t have anyone to tell you what to do. I heard you even once beat up a trainee legionnaire.”

  “Listen, kid-”

  “Don’t call me a kid! You’re barely any older than me.” Juniper interjected. “I have nobody. Like you. I’m alone, like you. If I followed you around, I could pretend like we were brothers or friends or something, and meet cool people too…I just thought…I’m sorry if that sounds really creepy.”

  Rocky opened his mouth. He was about to tell the kid about all the ways he was a bad person. He wasn’t someone to emulate, he was just as lost as anyone. Another part of him wanted to stab him in the chest. He didn’t want someone to burden him and drag him down. Yet, he saw some of himself in Juniper. Truthfully, he wouldn’t mind a friend — at least for a short while.

  “Fine,” Rocky smirked. He backed away from the other boy, giving him some space. “It’s fine. Just don’t get boring. Next time, I’ll lead with the knife.” He popped the switchblade. Juniper gulped, his face reflected in it.

  At that moment, the two formed an unspoken pact. For the next two years, Rocky’s solo act became a duet. Wherever he went, Juniper would come too. He had tried to adopt Rocky’s devil may cry attitude at first, but the latter dissuaded him. Sincerity was more important, Rocky said. The switchblade too made an appearance. Juniper was convinced, and also relieved. Rocky wanted him as he was, and not some idealised version of himself.

  They would steal together, eat together, and experience the city as two young vagabonds with no ties could. Until one day, when their illusion shattered.

  In the flat they were squatting in, Juniper walked in one afternoon. His shoulders were slumped, the spring in his step had gone.

  Rocky noticed it immediately. Turning off the TV, he snapped out of his slouch.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m dying,” Juniper didn’t turn to face his friend. Rocky didn’t see the tears falling from his face. But he felt it.

  “What…how….” Rocky asked. “What’s wrong…?”

  He had gone into one of the free health clinics earlier in the day after suffering a series of headaches over the past few weeks. The doctor had gone pale after taking his vitals. He was suffering from a rare disease. There was no cure for it. At least, none that they could afford.

  Over the next two weeks, his condition quickly deteriorated. Rocky left him at home, racing from doctor to doctor. None could help him. Those who he could threaten could afford nothing. Those who could afford the right treatments for a comfortable death would often have bodyguards who would beat him to a pulp before throwing him out.

  To many, Rocky was merely a vagrant. He understood that much. In his other life, he might have been able to do something. That life was nothing but ash and dust now. He raced through the city, into the fields. It was the middle of the night, no one would see him there. He stopped in front of a tree, tears wetting his face.

  “Damn it.” He lashed out at the tree, hitting it over, and over and over again until his hands were ruined.

  He screamed until his throat was sore. Frustration pulsing through his body, he slid to the ground.

  “Even after you saved me, I can’t do anything to help you,” Rocky said out loud, to no one in particular. “I can’t find anyone to help us. Not one person.”

  A soft footfall behind him alerted him to the presence of others. A masked man with hollow eyes, and another man. Not masked, youngish, with a brutal look in his eyes. Rocky would later learn that this other man was a caretaker. That was not his concern right now.

  “I know what you’re looking for,” The masked man said. “One of your friends reached out to me, Rocky. I can help you.”

  “Who are you?” Rocky asked.

  “My name is Caine.” The masked man replied, “I can be your salvation. I can save your friend, but only if you become mine.”

  Become Mine. Something snapped inside Rocky then. He was nobody’s pet.

  “Like hell.” Rocky popped his switchblade and dashed towards them. He would never be able to comprehend what happened. In a moment, his switchblade shattered. His arm — broken in three places. Only the caretaker had moved. The other man regarded him with what he could imagine was a curious stare. The expressionless mask was pissing him off.

  “Argh. Fuck!” Rocky cradled his arm as he slumped to the ground again. “Is this the kind of help you can give? Fuck off. I don’t want any.”

  “This is my favourite part. ” Caine said. He lay his hands on Rocky’s broken arm and whispered something to himself. Almost immediately he dropped to the floor, the other man rushed to his side and held him up, making the right supportive noises.

  For Rocky, that was unimportant. What stunned him was his arm, it was no longer broken. It had been reverted to how it was a few minutes ago, but better. The cuts and grazes from punching the tree had also disappeared.

  “Who are you?”

  It was a simple question. One that both Caine and the caretaker appreciated. Those three simple words would tell them all they needed to know about their targets.

  “I told you. I am Caine. I can be your salvation, But only if you choose me.”

  “What’s your price?” Rocky asked.

  “The same price I will demand from everyone Rocky,” Caine replied,

  “I need to you become my sword and shield.”

  Rocky clenched his fist. Then he released it. Under his mask, Caine smiled. He was his.

  Chapter 23 - Pup

  A year had passed. Rocky was no longer in Aslog. Now, he had been moved around the country, and even outside it. The caretaker lived up to his name. He helped run a few ‘orphanages’ around the country where children and young people selected by Caine would be trained, much like the Legion. There were other caretakers, and caretakers in training of course. But this one, Daniel — he was intense, and favoured by Caine. There was one difference though. It was hard to make friends there, so Rocky had simply kept to himself. Escape was not a possibility. He was a man who respected his promises. Saving someone’s life had required him to give his up, so he was satisfied. He had also seen what happened when one tried to escape.

  “Please. I’m sorry,” David had screamed as Caine
tortured him in front of the others.

  “It’s not enough.” Caine had replied, “Not nearly enough to satisfy me.”

  Rocky had simply stared ahead, unwaveringly. It would make no difference to him one way or the other.

  it was two years after Rocky had left Aslog. A bitter regimen of physical fitness, endurance training, and industria building exercise had thinned this particular cohort. There had been fifty of them. Now there were thirty left. No one asked where the others had gone. One learned not to ask too many questions after a while.

  They all stood outside in the cold winter air. The courtyard around them empty of all training tools save thirty stands with masks erected on them. Rocky knew what they were. Revamped beast masks that Caine had reportedly worked on with his silent partner over the past few years.

  “It’s time for you to all claim your esoterica,” The caretaker declared from the balcony above them. “We aren’t like Aslog. Esoterica aren’t granted, they are earned.”

  “I thought everyone had innate esoterica,” One boy piped up, “That’s why weve been training. Isn’t it?”

  “Innate esoterica are random. Unpredicatable.” The Caretaker responded, “All we need is battle ready monsters. You’ll never know what your esoterica would have been. As you stand on the charred bodies of your enemies, you’ll never need to!”

  The order was given. The group approached the stands. Some with apprehension, some with confidence. All by necessity.

  For a moment, Rocky ran his fingers over the mask. A wolf stared back at him, sending tingles of heat through his fingers as his industria reacted to it. It pulsed with power.

  The caretaker watched as 30 young souls slammed the masks on their faces. the reaction was nearly instantaneous.

  Rocky heard a scream from his side. So loud, he was sure his ears would bleed. He turned to chastise the screamer, but as he saw the prone, silent bodies, to his left and right, he realised the voice was his own.

  The pain burned through his every nerve as the beast mask merged with his body, blinding him momentarily.

  Blood. Hot. Fire. Pain. Blood.