Pitch Black

[valen]

For the first time in his life, Michael felt as his life was fulfilled, that he has a purpose, and that in the future, even happiness might dwell in his heart, replacing hatred and anger. And Michael was not an insane man, he knew that is what he is looking for, not pointless killing, but happiness, to once again live in this world without shame. But as he moved away from the Liner, from Luxuria, once again, his mind struggled, a sharp and long lasting pain crawled up his head, drilling all that is good in his mind and replacing it with dark thoughts, the lust for revenge, drawing Michael back into the abyss he so much wanted to escape. Michael fell to his knees, grabbing his head with both his hands and his body continued to slope down to the floor. The pain was too strong for him to handle it, like a high pitched sound it slaughtered all of his thoughts, leaving him in pain on the floor, unable to think, feel, even breathe.
Michael's breaths were slow, he barely managed to catch some air as the pain weakened, and he got up on his knees, placing his hands on his head and began crying. Why him, why all this pain, what did he ever did to deserve it he wondered, and no answer came, not even from deep inside him, nothing, only silence, and shadows. Michael's mind was calmer, and he could think more clearly, when all of a sudden, a burst of memories rushed in his head. Demons from the past, devils from the future, nothing from the present. All of his life, short and painful, speeded through his mind, reminding him of his suffering and sorrow. Caroline's evil laugh as she was with her clients, The Old Man's drinking and his fists that hurt Michael's feelings more the his body, Arthur's betrayal, his Angel leaving him in the cold night, alone in the dark, alone to his destiny. All that he ever knew left him, not caring bit what would happen to him. Never did he feel love other then that from his Angel, who still left him in the rain alone. He screamed from the top of his lungs calling Luxuria's name, he hated her, and loved her. Michael knew that he needed to find her, as she is the only one that he ever loved, and she can save him from the eternal damnation. His mind was tearing itself up, and haste was desired.
The pain was stopping, the sounds Michael was hearing in his head silenced, and the memories were once again forgotten, leaving him with the bitter taste of hatred, and the will for vengeance. Michael shook his head and stood up from the floor, rubbing his pants to clear the dust that was on them. Finally he moved the hair that covered his face to the side, his face looked distorted from pain and anger, but he was getting ahold of himself. Michael's eye color returned to sky blue instead of the dark blue, almost black color they had as he was being torn up by the constant pain in his head. Michael sat in the pilot seat of his ship and opened the navigational charts, plotting a course for New London as he knew the best way to search for Luxuria is there, as that is where they first met, and that is how he remembers her best.

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Michael landed his ship on the surface of New London in the place where he always kept his ship hidden from unwanted eyes. He changed his clothes to look more suitable for the environment he was about to enter, and he wanted to look as least suspicious as one can look surrounded by the scum of New London, the lowest of the low. Michael stepped off his ship and code locked the doors, and finally began walking slowly in the direction of the city. It was dusk when Michael arrived into the city and immediately did the foul smell of the city reminded him of his past, the time he spent here after he escaped from the Institute. Again did the pain return, stopping Michael in his steps, forcing him to lean on the nearby wall as he nearly fell down. Michael took another deep breath of the city in his lungs, trying to calm himself down. It worked, as the rigorous pain weakened, but was still present, never leaving him and following him like a shadow. The memories of this place also remained, as Michael knew exactly where he was.
He moved around the back alleys like he never left this place, turning around corners without even looking where he was going. Avoiding eye contact with anyone there, no need to get into trouble before the search even begun. Left, right, left, straight, left and there it was, the same pub that Michael ventured in after he escape from the torture known as the Institute. He approached the door, and reached for the handle, thinking twice on what he was about to do. He shook his head as he knew that there are no options and this is what must be done, he twisted the handle and entered the pub. Michael kept his head downed, glancing his eyes around to determine his surroundings. The pub was empty as before, only having five people inside. The bartender that didn't change, and still has scars after Michael broke his jaw, what made Michael chuckle with pride, and a strange man sitting in the same corner as Luxuria was before. The same three thugs that beat him up those years ago were still there, and the tattooed one seemed even bigger now. Michael had nothing to lose, and he wanted to test them. His arrogance was great, and the lust for a fight even greater, so he looked the three thugs and nodded to them receiving no response. Michael thought it was a shame they didn't recognize him as he was dying for a fight, but then again this will make his job a lot easier.
Michael slowly approached the bartender, and asked for a drink immediately throwing 20 credits on the bar.

"How's the jaw?" - Michael asked the bartender as he began sipping his drink, and chuckling inside the glass, "What? Good. Better." - The bartender answered while spitting all over the bar and the drinks due to the broken jaw, what made Michael laugh even louder.
"I need to find someone specific. I am willing to pay a great deal for it because this certain someone is of great importance to me." - Michael said as he stopped chuckling, dropping a thousand credits onto the bar and pushed them towards the bartender, "So, who am I looking for that knows his way around shady people."
The bartender stood there a little while cleaning the glasses one by one, and finally looked up to Michael and pointed his look towards the man in the corner, the strange man that Michael was scared of from some reason. He took the thousand credits and once again pointed to the man in the corner continuing to clean his glass.
Little time did Michael lose, he stood up from the chair, nearly knocking the chair over deliberately to draw attention from the thugs and the man in the corner, as Michael wanted for the man to see him approaching. Michael walked up to the man's table, and turned the chair around sitting on it and placing his drink on the table that he carried from the bar. The man was silent, and was looking at Michael with a curious expression in his eyes. Curious, but at the same time expected, almost as he was waiting for Michael to come to him. As Michael was about to speak, the pub's doors opened, and a tall man wearing a hood entered. Michael turned his eyes to him, checking him from his head to feet, as he was suspicious of anyone coming into this type of pub wearing a coat as fine as that one. The tall man's handling was that of a gentleman what rose Michael's suspicion even more. Finally the man took of his coat, and a gun mark could be seen on his shirt, as he had a gun right under it and it imprinted itself onto the shirt. A thug Michael thought, a rich one, but a thug nonetheless. He then turned to the man at the table again, and began speaking.

"I was told..." - Michael took a sip of his drink, "That you are the guy I need to talk to about finding....Someone." - He lowered the drink and awaited for the man's response. "Yes, I can help, for a price." - The man said as he leaned forwards to Michael showing him his face, that was scared from the bottom up, but at the same time looked like a face of a good man.
"Of course, everything has a pice. Luxuria, that is all that I have on him." - Michael deliberately said that Luxuria was a man, to see if the stranger knew anything about the matter, "A she. And yes, I know of her." - The man replied and chuckled a little.
"Excellent. I need to find her." - Michael said and laughed a bit to the stranger correcting him about Luxuria's gender as he handed over ten thousand credits to the stranger, on which he just shook his head as a sign of negation, "Credits will not do here. I need....A favor." - The stranger leaned even more towards Michael pulling out a datapad from his pocket, "This, is what you need, contains information about The Reaper Luxuria. But..." - He said as he pulled away the datapad, and pointed to the man that entered the pub just earlier, "That man, is a murderer, and I need him gone. Because, you see, I am a business man, I deal in information." - He leaned back into the sofa and took a sip of his drink, "And he is on my tail, wants me dead for some reason, and I want to kill him before he kills me.
Michael turned his head to look to the tall man, then looked back to the stranger. His mind was processing information fast, as he needed to make a decision fast. Reaper Luxuria, he thought about that, is it possible, or is he just lying. What could one more kill mean for him, but then again all of Bretonia's finest would be after him. And just as Michael was going to refuse the offer, his greed showed the best of him, the wish to find Luxuria, to satisfy his love towards her, even more important, his hate towards all that is human and reminding him of his suffering, "He is gone. But I'll need that data before I make him disappear." - Michael spoke with an angry and demanding voice, "A deal." - The man said as he handed Michael over the datapad, and continued, "I already arranged it all, as you leave this pub, he will follow you, and you do what needs to be done. And please, do not ask me how I knew." - The man said as he once again pointed to the tall man that Michael needs to kill. Michael turned around towards the door, then looked back to the man at his table, but he was gone, like a ghost, a genie. Michael thought about reading the datapad, and leaving the man alone, but it was all arranged, and he will follow Michael. Not much can be done to prevent it, but Michael didn't want to prevent it, he felt the urge to kill him, to shed some blood, so he stood up, and slowly walked towards the door noticing the tall man putting on his coat, and leaving credits on the table for the drink and following Michael outside.

Michael walked down the street with his hands in his pockets, holding the datapad tightly with one hand, and the butterfly knife with the other. He was planning what to do next, what step to take, making sure he doesn't take a wrong one, or all of this could end up badly for Michael. A simple plan was conceived in his head. Michael knew the streets around here and the perfect place for a strike was not too far away, and Michael quickened his pace knowing that the man behind him will follow. As he approached the alley he planned to enter, with one quick step Michael disappeared in it, hiding in the shadows behind a dumpster. The tall man stepped into the alley, pulling out his gun, and slowly walking forward while his eyes were checking each side for blind spots. But Michael was good, the killing skills he gained on the Liner, and before while combating his victims made him a capable killer. He rolled to the side from behind the dumpster and with one quick swing threw the butterfly knife that flew directly towards the man. Blood sprayed Michael and the side walls of the alley while the man fell down onto the floor, into a small puddle of yesterday's rain. Michael approached him and the knife was sticking out from the man's eye and blood was dripping and flowing from his head into the puddle. Michael drew the man over the floor to behind the dumpster, and checked his body for some identification. He never did that before, but this time, he felt the need to who he killed. What Michael found, was no little surprise, an MI6 badge with the name William Lowsley on it. An agent! Bretonia will be all over Michael now, and Michael quickly realized it was a setup, but by whom, and for what, he failed to see. He searched the dead body quickly once again, finding a small datapad on him, taking it and running away from the crime scene in fear and panic.

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As Michael was running he suddenly realized that he had the datapad with Luxuria's information, and stopped in his tracks. He was catching his breath as he opened the datapad and ran a search for Luxuria. The picture of his Angel appeared, with the words CLASSIFIED decorating her name and profile. Michael began reading as he hid behind a wall, leaning on the wall and almost sitting on the floor, keeping his body in the air with his legs.

Tears began dripping from Michael's eyes. tears of compassion, tears of sorrow and love. As he now knew that he is not the only one in this dreadful world that has suffered greatly, but there is another one. The one he wishes to protect from suffering any more and show her he is here for her. But how could she leave him, how does she not love him as he loves her. That is what troubled Michael's mind, that made him cry. She rejected him, and he only has love for her, nothing more. Then it hit Michael, it was only because she wishes to suffer no more, and does not know what Michael has been through, does not know what he can offer her, she is blind for Michael and his love. Michael fell to the floor, crying, weak. But his mind played with him again, how could she leave him in the rain, alone in the dark! He stood up and wiped the tears from his eyes, "I hate you!!" - He yelled as hard as he can with hatred in his eyes, Michael was not thinking straight, and his mind was tortured, "No...Noo..I am sorry! I love you!" - Soon did he realize his mistake and he screamed to his Angel, in hope she will hear him, and in fear she heard him the first time. He shook his head, and began running into the dark once again. No time to lose, he must leave this place as fast as he can and find the Theatre mentioned in the information. The Police, and even worse the MI6 will be looking for him and he must not be found before he can learn more about his love.
Michael was running into the dark as he reached a wall, a dead end alley, with nowhere to go but back, and upwards by the stairs that were near him that lead to the roof of a tall building. He placed the datapads in his pockets, and grabbed the old and rusted stairs with his hands, slowly but safely climbing up to the roof of the building. As he got up, he raised his head to see the view from the building. One of the most beautiful views he has ever seen, the dark city that shun with light, as a lone star guiding a sailor in the night. Michael sat down and opened the wallet of the agent he killed once again looking at his name, running his fingers over the MI6 badge. Quickly did he remember the datapad he found on the agent's body, so he showed his hand into the pocked and took it out. A different datapad then the first one, as it had no buttons on it. It is one of the datapads that contain information on only one subject, often being used for undercover agents to hide their traces, and to simplify their mission. Also removing all responsibility from the company that hired him by making this the only copy, only available to the agent at hand. The company here being MI6, but Michael knew there is a slim chance that this is the only copy when dealing with a agency such as this. He opened the datapad and it began playing a video feed.
It was of little surprise when Michael found out that the datapad was about him! His name, his picture, his profile! From his childhood, to his time in the institute, Caroline, Old Man, all was here!

"Michael was a student of the Winston Private School, on the Planet New London. The teachers of that school describe him as a child with incredible instincts and reflexes. They also speak of this boy being extremely quiet and shy, who hadn't had many friends while growing up. He is also noted as very smart and talented young boy, who excelled in school, especially in subjects such as mathematics, logistics, and politics. And as an opposition to other children his age, was never fond of school subjects such as physical education. He always preferred using his mind and wit instead of his physical attributes."

"Michael was sent to the juvenile correctional institution on New London with the age of 17. He was showing increased aggression towards children his age, and was beginning to experience sever trauma. What crossed the line is Michael attacking and beating up an elderly man that visited his mother. He accused him of being her "client" and his mother of prostitution. Michael broke the man's nose and this one sued him, and he was sentenced to six months in the correctional institution. From there, he was sent home, and at the age of 18 he ended up in the Psychiatric Institute of New London because of constant accusations of his mother, as well as increased aggression towards all."

"Michael seems to be suffering from a sever trauma and a strong depression. The actions that caused the trauma are unknown as of yet, and the depression that he has been suffering for 2 years now according to his mother is also a mystery as what caused it. His words are to be weighted carefully, since they can be a twisted version of the truth. It may seem as the truth in Michael's eyes, but he is living in his own world right now. In the third week of his stay there he broke one of the doctor's nose for which the reason is quite odd, the doctor said to Michael that it must have been difficult to live with such a bitch, and he lost his temper, jumping over the table and punching the doctor. What is even weirder are Michael's words. He said, and I quote "No one can call her a bitch but ME!"."

Michael stopped the video feed, his eyes were filled with hate and fear at the same time. What is happening to him, why all of this? Why do they wish him suffer even more. Why can't they leave him alone?

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