Questions interest me more than answers. One learns so much more from questions. Answers leave you with a limit of where to go from there. Questions can expand forever and bring joyous exploration that leads to new ideas and concepts.
The doctors had been nice and friendly at first. They had tried to shelter Silvia from the ugly truth, that her parents and little sister had died in the crash. A psychiatrist had even been brought in to determine if she was mentally and emotionally ready to go to the funeral. In the end, those in charge of her care judged it to be bad for her.
The dust of the alley swirled in the breeze, impregnating itself in the grime and garbage hidden in shadow. A figure stepped silently through the entrance, never once allowing the light of nearby street lamps to illuminate his features. A whisper of decaying paper, followed by silence was heard. The breeze became almost nonexistent. There was a blur of motion from a pile of trash to the far right. The figure gracefully sidestepped as five discarding sabot rounds punched a perfect pentagram in the brick just behind where he had been standing. In one fluid motion, the figure flicked something from his left side closely followed by his right side. The gunman tumbled back into the heap of crumpled paper that he had used for concealment. Quickly the dark figure stooped over the lifeless body and removed the five exquisite daggers from the chest of the dead man. He was unaffected by the wheezing sound of his victim’s last breath escaping through the holes in his chest as the last reflexes finally stopped.
Wednesday morning, at 8:00 am, Stephen was still charged up with hope and imagined success. Bleary-eyed but freshly shaved, he pulled into the parking lot of the office park. His dark, brown hair was short enough to not be a problem in the brisk breeze. All around were the sterile and abandoned buildings. The office fronts stared at him as he passed, their vacant windows watching like the eye sockets of a bleached skull. He kept expecting a tumbleweed to roll past.
Sam never saw who did it. All he knew was that the sky seemed to explode in a hell of fire and lead. He was soon blinded and mangled by the shrapnel that tore down from the furious hell-storm that had been his family’s automatic guard. The hovering sentry must have been destroyed long before it could react. All he could think of was escaping as he heard the cries of anguish of his friends and family. Occasionally he would hear the tromp of one of their assailants going past the ditch where he huddled. Soon the pain took away the rest of his energy and he passed out knowing for certain that he would soon be dead. That didn’t bother him so much as the fact that he would never be able to avenge his family…
Wednesday always sucked for Stephen. His wife left him on a Wednesday. He moved into his condo on a Wednesday, only to be laid off the next Wednesday so his boss's nephew would have an income while he failed as an actor. This Wednesday would be different. He had a hot job lead.
Prologue Alontheus broke into the lab with relative ease. The computer took a little more effort. Their research was impressive, but sloppy. It was as if most of the work had been done by competent researchers and then slapped together by lesser scientists in a rush. The foundation of the research was solid, but the conclusions and the suggested actions were flawed due to sloppy follow up.
I am The Sacred Cat. That is what my human calls me. He sometimes shortens it to Sacred. When he is frustrated with my actions, he calls me Sac.