A/N: Hey look! I didn't die! Yeah, I got around to writing this chapter,
FINALLY. Things just got all mumble jumbled with homework and stuff, with
minor writer's block as well as idea overload on top of it. @.@ Well,
actually, it was written quite a few times, but I messed up and had to re-
write it like, umpteen times XD. Phhwwee!! I'm glad I just got it done,
because my mind just needs to write the next chapters before what is left
explodes!! Thank you, all of you, for your reviews! You guys seriously make
my day with every little note! *teardrop* I shall go cry in happiness!!
Once again, please review with suggestions, comments, and all of that great
stuff! I LOVE YOU GUYS!!!!!!! =D
P.S.- How long should my chapters be?? o.O
P.S.S- Thank you sooo much for the person who told me about humorous and humerus! That was driving me crazy because I couldn't figure out how to spell it! XD *bows*
Disclaimer: See previous chapters.
~*~*~
-Jak and Daxter: Innocent Betrayal-
Chapter Three: A Returning Assault
~*~*~
Ashelin sighed contentedly as she straightened a stack of government- related papers on her office desk. Her face seemed rather calm, a bit unusual for the high-strung fighter woman that she was, and her cheeks seemed to have a warm, reddish glow about them that matched her scarlet hair. It could've been the bright colors of the new governor's office, which was basically a medley of warm, crimson reds, from the furniture to the walls, but to Torn it didn't matter. All that mattered to him was that childish, somewhat seductive grin that curled from her full, ruby lips.
"Well, that didn't take too long did it?" she sighed as she signed her signature on the final paper of the stack of twenty-odd sheets, permitting the joining of the Underground and the Krimzon Guard into one, single security force. The Underground, which would be officially led by 'Commander' Torn himself, would deal more with undercover work and whatnot, while the Krimzon Guard would be like a civilian protector squad and militia team if conflicts were to ever arise, which was quite likely for the sprouting city.
Torn cocked his head at Ashelin's statement, as well as her dumbfounding beauty. "Too long? Ash, it's after midnight! We could've been done far earlier if you had been on time," he stated evenly in his normal, raspy voice, but he seemed to have a bit of an affectionate undertone as he spoke. "Where were you anyway?" he added questioningly.
Ashelin paused as her narrow green eyes slowly rose from the documents to meet Torn's. "Oh, well you knew that I was telling our friends about the holiday dinner plans, correct?" she asked as she laid the pen she had previously used on the red-toned wooden desk.
Torn nodded and grunted a sort of 'go on' sound from his throat.
"Well, there was a bit of an accident at the Naughty Ottsel," Ashelin continued, sounding somewhat concerned. "Keira passed out cold, and the whole lot of us at the bar figured it was because she had walked in that blizzard out there to the saloon from the race garage. Or we hope that's why anyway."
Torn's eyes widened. "You made her walk to the Ottsel from the stadium?! I told you that is wasn't necessary to close the airways, Ashelin. Look, now someone's health could be in danger!"
"Don't argue my decisions, Torn. If we had left the airways open, countless accidents and breakdowns could've occurred! And I'm sure Keira knows the risks of using zoomers in the snow. People could've died," Ashelin explained with a bit of frustration in her voice. "You know as well as I do that it was for the good of the city to close the airways down."
Torn sighed a fake defeat, deciding not to push the issue any further as Ashelin's eyes seemed to relax in the sudden silence. "Do you know how Keira is now?" he asked, attempting to change the subject. He leaned forward in the velvet red seat in front of Ashelin's desk and clasped his hands together in front of him, fidgeting with the faded, fingerless black gloves around his palms.
"She's at her apartment now. Jak was with her last, from what I know, and she is conscious again. But he's probably left her to rest," Ashelin said as she slouched back in her tall-backed chair, leaning her dread- locked head on its wooden back.
"Oh," Torn said plainly. He stifled a yawn as his vision slipped to the window behind Ashelin. The snowflakes were still steadily falling from the heavens, glazing the night-ridden city in yet another coat of ice.
Ashelin noticed that Torn had begun to stare off, and following his gaze, her eyes were greeted with the wintry scene that was Haven City as she had rarely seen it. It was so serene and calm, and had a prominent bliss that couldn't be overlooked by even the most melancholy. "It's so beautiful," Ashelin muttered, adding uneasily, "the way this city has changed since. . . since my father died."
Torn's gaze now switched back to Ashelin, his usually solemn face holding a flash of discomfort for the governor. "Ashelin, it's okay to miss him. He was your father," Torn admitted as he reached out his hand to Ashelin's.
Ashelin jumped a little as his unexpected contact; it wasn't normal that Torn had so much compassion. But she soon relaxed under his soft touch and gripped his hand back. "I don't miss him, though. He wasn't a father. He was a tyrant. If he could, he'd probably bring this city to Hell with him and laugh as he watched the innocent people burn," Ashelin said as she traced Torn's hand with her forefinger. "He shouldn't have been the one to govern this city."
Torn's features relaxed even more as he brought her hand up to his eye level, cradling it with both hands in a strong but gentle clutch. "But you are the one to govern this city," Torn whispered into the top of Ashelin's palm, gingerly leaning down to press his pale lips against her soft hand. Ashelin's eyes widened but she made no protest at Torn's sudden actions. It was actually kind of relieving.
"If there's anyone that was meant to rule this city, it's you Ash. It takes a lot to be strong but still compassionate of the citizens, but you seem damn well capable of it," Torn continued as he lowered Ashelin's hand to her desk. Ashelin sighed a drawn out sigh.
"But ya know," Torn started again, but his tone of voice was now sounding more playful than sincere and a grin was twitching at his features, "you do get all pissed and defensive when someone challenges you. Feisty."
Ashelin rolled her eyes. "I do not! Shut up!" she growled as the tips of her ears began to brighten in an embarrassed shade of red, which contrasted with the dark shade of her tattoos.
"See? See? You're doing it right now!" Torn laughed as Ashelin started out of her chair and around the desk. She had her teeth gritted as she moved towards the man, hand stiffening like she was about to bitch-slap him, although she knew she wouldn't. But before Ashelin could even lay a finger on him, Torn leapt out of his chair and gently seized Ashelin by her shoulders.
"But ya know what else? I like that in a woman," Torn grunted. Ashelin stared up at him, her head tilted. He raised a single brow, as did she.
"Do you now?" Ashelin cooed in a mysterious, low-keyed tone of voice. Torn nodded suavely. The governor's lips once again curled into that playfully malicious grin that Torn seemed to fancy so much, and without knowing, the pair slowly drifted closer, lips parting. Torn's hands moved down towards Ashelin's hips, and her hands gently embraced his neck, inching ever closer. Torn locked his silver blue eyes with Ashelin's mysterious green ones, and they could tell that destiny had planned for them an astonishing kiss. But before their lips could meet there was a gruff and pained voice gasping at the door.
"G-Governor Ashelin! Governor A-Ashelin!" the clearly male voice wailed with panic, wheezing for breath in between his words.
Ashelin's eyes widened as she abruptly let go of Torn, leaving him to watch on in puzzlement as she bounded towards the large double doors that were the entrance to her office. The man sounded urgent, and apparently viciously hurt. In an instant she had unlatched the doors, swinging them wide open.
A young man, around twenty or so and decked in heavy Krimzon Guard armor, stumbled into the room. He promptly collapsed in a breathless heap in front of Ashelin's feet with a painful clatter. His bulky uniform was scratched, dented, and torn in multiple places, the obvious signs of a dangerous battle.
Ashelin gasped as she kneeled down next to the man, fear pervading her mind as she imagined what could've happened to this young man. Torn immediately bolted to the man's nearly lifeless body, his forehead crinkling with concern as he quickly looked the Guard over.
"We have to loosen his helmet. He can't breathe easily in that thing," Torn ordered with a tone of experience. Ashelin nodded and hastily unlatched the buckle under the man's neck. Instantly, a warm fluid that Ashelin hadn't noticed before under the man's massive uniform began to trickle onto her hands. Its sticky thickness made her wince, and as she quickly shot a glance down at her hands, the red substance was without doubt what she had feared.
Blood.
The man's injuries were apparently worse than she had first presumed; his armor had covered most of his wounds, so his bruises and slices wouldn't be obvious at a glance. As Ashelin began to gingerly remove the man's mask, her eyes were greeted with a gruesome sight. His face was mauled and oozing with bright red blood, tender wounds gaping as beads of sweat stung his skin. His face muscles tensed, his eyes slightly opened, and although his breathing was quick and irregular, he seemed to welcome the fresh air.
"G-G-Governor," the injured man mustered as he tried to focus his vision on Ashelin. He took another painful breath. "Ma'am, ma'am I h-have something to report."
Ashelin swallowed hard. "What happened?" she asked shakily as the man's mournful brown eyes struggled to stay open, the pure burden of breathing making him see double.
The man heaved another breath, but suddenly began to cough violently, blood beginning to secrete from the corners of his mouth. His face began to pale; coughing took more strength than he had.
Torn growled under his breath before he leaned in next to Ashelin. "Tell us!" he snapped, but not too loudly. Ashelin shot him a glare to be patient, but it wasn't long before the man came to.
The man wheezed in another breath, striving to suppress his coughing. "M- Metal Heads," he whispered weakly, and though he seemed to have more to tell, his last strand of energy was spent. His eyes rolled back into his head and his frame relaxed, the air quenching his lungs for one final time.
~*~
The room above the race garage was completely dark as if the area alone was so eerie that it scared even light away. Even the bright, radiant moonlight that reflected off the pure white snow failed to seep its way to break through the shadows, but although the room seemed lifeless, a young woman still dwindled in its deep, haunting depths. Her silhouette, darker than the surrounding shadows, was curvy and womanly, distinctively Keira's. But an odd aura of death seemed to radiate from her trance-like posture.
"You can't," she whispered into the cold air in her apartment. "You can't make me kill." She could feel the area under her eyes growing damp, tears aching to stream down her paling face. But she wouldn't let them. "You can't make me do anything at all. You can't, you can't," she repeated over and over, each time growing quieter until her voice was merely a whisper. As she fell silent, a gust blew through her room, though a window was not open.
The piercing cold air whirled past the tips of her elfish ears, and deep within her mind she could her a deep, rasping, and menacing laugh, almost intimidating her to do what she whished not to think about.
"I SAID YOU CAN'T MAKE ME DO ANYTHING, GODDAMMIT!" Keira yelled at the sound of the demented chuckle, cutting off its evil cackle, but when she fell quiet to see if her command had done anything the room was as silent as the grave.
"Why are you doing this to me?! What do you want with me?!" her voice was hysterical as she cried out into the emptiness. "Aren't you listening? Why won't you answer?" she asked quietly.
The parasite in her back slithered slightly, causing Keira's face to twist in an expression of pain.
"This is what you want, isn't it. To just keep torturing me until I eventually give up and let you take over all of me?" Keira cried. "I don't even know what the hell you are, and I don't know what you want me for!"
"~Stupid girl. Listen, and you will know. They are waiting for you. They are waiting for us. Though you do not know it, you have called them here~"
Keira's eyes widened. She had wanted the voice to answer her, but hadn't expected it to. In fact, she prayed that all of this was just a dream. After all, she was exhausted, and was most likely not in her right mind. Besides, what the voice had said made no sense at all. "B-but, the killing, why do you make me want to, to kill?! And-and, who, and what?!" Keira's voice was humble and quiet now, but panic was all too obvious in her usually, and uniquely cheerful voice.
"~Those who ask are thirsty for information, no? But just looked around you. Look at yourself. You see no change. But soon, yes, in given time~"
Keira recognized a new emotion in this mysterious voice that made her feel at ease, if only the slightest bit. But of course, she wasn't stupid and could tell that it was all an act. Evil had no compassion. Evil never had compassion. And this fact could not be proven incorrect.
The insignia on her arm burned slightly, causing her eyes to gaze to the area on her humerus where it was located. Though it was very dark in the room, Keira could almost make out the glowing borders of the skull and claw, as well as the strange words. Confusion forced a sigh out of Keira, as she began to ask, "B-but I still know nothing about this---"
"~Ask no more questions. They will soon be answered. But you are tired, young one. So rest. But promise me you will tell no one. No one can know. Not even Jak~"
Keira looked taken aback. "How did you know about Jak!?!?" she asked, a bit frightened of the answer, but curious nonetheless. The voice did not answer.
Keira would've begun nagging the voice for an answer, not because she was particularly interested in knowing, but because she was scared out of her wits and didn't want to be left without answers. But as if the ability to stay awake was out of her control, the young woman's eyes fell shut as sleep called for her.
~*~
Jak was tense as he lowered his single-seat zoomer towards his dilapidated house in the slums, his breath turning to freezing steam as he huffed in discontent. He could've had a mansion with his newfound fame as a hero and relations with the government, but he seemed quite content living in the ramshackle shed of a home. Besides that, it was the closest shack to the race garage, since the area between Mar Memorial Stadium and the slums wasn't a housing district, so Jak had quite easy access to Keira.
Daxter sighed a deep sigh and stood up erect on Jak's shoulder, the zoomer near to pulling to a complete stop. "Ahhh, home sweet"-the ottsel paused and strained his eyes to make out a tall, dark figure in front of the house- "WHO IN THE NAME OF PRECURSORS IS THAT?!" Indeed, there was a dark form in front of the house, and seemed quite suspicious as he lurked near the windows.
"I'd like to know that myself," Jak muttered under his breath, seemingly quite angry. The silhouette of the man was tall, with broad shoulders and perfect posture, but he was a bit on the lanky side besides that. The man was peering into the dark windows of Jak and Daxter's hut, and Jak's eyes narrowed as he wondered what this peculiar man was doing.
Jak leapt off his zoomer, feet falling without sound in the frozen snow as Daxter cowered behind him. "Yo, you!" Jak said in a deep, threatening voice. "What the hell are you doing in front of my house?"
The man's pointy ears perked up slightly, though he did not bother to look at the brawny green-haired elf behind him. "Can I help you?" the man asked sarcastically, still not revealing his face or identity to Jak or Daxter.
"Help me? You playing smart with me, ya son of a bitch?!" Jak snapped hotly as he made a reach for the man's shoulder, but was abruptly stopped by a pair of ottsel paws. "Daxter . . . " Jak muttered furiously under his breath, casting a dark glare at his rodent friend, who hung with his hind- paws dangling from Jak's arm.
Daxter just looked at Jak with a face that seemed to ask what the blonde elf was thinking. "Jak, chill a'ight? We dunno what this guys up to!" the ottsel whispered, a bit taken aback by Jak's sudden irrational behavior. Jak just furrowed his eyebrows at Dax, completely disregarding his-for once- wise words. Daxter rolled his eyes and plopped back down into the snow.
The man craned his neck slightly, the profile of his face now visible to the pair awaiting his explanation. "Listen to the squirrel, pal. He might be of value now and then," the man's voice was full, rich, and regal, much contrasting with his rather scrawny build. He turned around in a full circle, finally revealing his face to Jak and the ottsel.
The man's eyes were a rich blue, seeming so kindhearted that it would be hard to believe he was up to anything sinister. His face was in between long and round, pointing out to a full chin with a neatly groomed, blondish goatee, the same color as his eyebrows, but darker than his blonde hair. It turned out that what Jak and Daxter had presumed to be broad shoulders on the man were actually silver shoulder plates, and the boys were a bit surprised to see bulky muscled arms under the plates. A long, earth brown tunic decked the man's torso, and a shoulder bag slanted diagonally to his right hip, parallel with pale tan baggy pants that covered the man's long legs. Black boots adorned his feet, and a long black overcoat finished off his outfit.
"I was just wandering by to check out the houses in this run down part of the city," the man admitted, not fazed by Jak's aggressive snarl. He was certainly not the kind of man to give into intimidations. He raised a moderately bushy eyebrow at Jak, which seemed to tease the hero's temper even further. "I hope your new governor is doing something about this, -poverty- in Haven. Ashelin, is it? And I wonder how she's handling the Metal Head situation," the man inquired as he fiddled with a pair of dark brown, fingerless gloves.
"Ashelin is a good governor, to your information," Jak muttered, "and she is working her ass off for this city. The Metal Heads are gone now anyway, they don't have a leader! Now if you don't mind I would like you to get the hell away from my house!" Jak made a lunge for his front door, assuming that the man wouldn't budge and he'd have to put up a fight. But the man moved quite willingly as Jak ripped open his door.
The man sighed as he folded his arms across his chest. "As you wish. Wouldn't want to cause any trouble, being so close to the holidays. Besides, it's below freezing and two after midnight. I can tell you've been through a lot today. G'night," the man said. Jak just stared on with a 'what the hell?' expression at the man's sudden change of attitude. But the man just turned on heel with his hands in his overcoat, casting a warm, but surprisingly authentic smile at Jak. For some odd reason, it was as if the man had just found what he was looking for.
-To Be Continued-
~*~*~
Hoo boy, I know short chapter for having to wait so long. Like I said, things got jumbled up after the holidays. I promise the next chapter will be up much sooner! Until then, please review with thoughts, suggestions, whatnot and etc.!
P.S.- How long should my chapters be?? o.O
P.S.S- Thank you sooo much for the person who told me about humorous and humerus! That was driving me crazy because I couldn't figure out how to spell it! XD *bows*
Disclaimer: See previous chapters.
~*~*~
-Jak and Daxter: Innocent Betrayal-
Chapter Three: A Returning Assault
~*~*~
Ashelin sighed contentedly as she straightened a stack of government- related papers on her office desk. Her face seemed rather calm, a bit unusual for the high-strung fighter woman that she was, and her cheeks seemed to have a warm, reddish glow about them that matched her scarlet hair. It could've been the bright colors of the new governor's office, which was basically a medley of warm, crimson reds, from the furniture to the walls, but to Torn it didn't matter. All that mattered to him was that childish, somewhat seductive grin that curled from her full, ruby lips.
"Well, that didn't take too long did it?" she sighed as she signed her signature on the final paper of the stack of twenty-odd sheets, permitting the joining of the Underground and the Krimzon Guard into one, single security force. The Underground, which would be officially led by 'Commander' Torn himself, would deal more with undercover work and whatnot, while the Krimzon Guard would be like a civilian protector squad and militia team if conflicts were to ever arise, which was quite likely for the sprouting city.
Torn cocked his head at Ashelin's statement, as well as her dumbfounding beauty. "Too long? Ash, it's after midnight! We could've been done far earlier if you had been on time," he stated evenly in his normal, raspy voice, but he seemed to have a bit of an affectionate undertone as he spoke. "Where were you anyway?" he added questioningly.
Ashelin paused as her narrow green eyes slowly rose from the documents to meet Torn's. "Oh, well you knew that I was telling our friends about the holiday dinner plans, correct?" she asked as she laid the pen she had previously used on the red-toned wooden desk.
Torn nodded and grunted a sort of 'go on' sound from his throat.
"Well, there was a bit of an accident at the Naughty Ottsel," Ashelin continued, sounding somewhat concerned. "Keira passed out cold, and the whole lot of us at the bar figured it was because she had walked in that blizzard out there to the saloon from the race garage. Or we hope that's why anyway."
Torn's eyes widened. "You made her walk to the Ottsel from the stadium?! I told you that is wasn't necessary to close the airways, Ashelin. Look, now someone's health could be in danger!"
"Don't argue my decisions, Torn. If we had left the airways open, countless accidents and breakdowns could've occurred! And I'm sure Keira knows the risks of using zoomers in the snow. People could've died," Ashelin explained with a bit of frustration in her voice. "You know as well as I do that it was for the good of the city to close the airways down."
Torn sighed a fake defeat, deciding not to push the issue any further as Ashelin's eyes seemed to relax in the sudden silence. "Do you know how Keira is now?" he asked, attempting to change the subject. He leaned forward in the velvet red seat in front of Ashelin's desk and clasped his hands together in front of him, fidgeting with the faded, fingerless black gloves around his palms.
"She's at her apartment now. Jak was with her last, from what I know, and she is conscious again. But he's probably left her to rest," Ashelin said as she slouched back in her tall-backed chair, leaning her dread- locked head on its wooden back.
"Oh," Torn said plainly. He stifled a yawn as his vision slipped to the window behind Ashelin. The snowflakes were still steadily falling from the heavens, glazing the night-ridden city in yet another coat of ice.
Ashelin noticed that Torn had begun to stare off, and following his gaze, her eyes were greeted with the wintry scene that was Haven City as she had rarely seen it. It was so serene and calm, and had a prominent bliss that couldn't be overlooked by even the most melancholy. "It's so beautiful," Ashelin muttered, adding uneasily, "the way this city has changed since. . . since my father died."
Torn's gaze now switched back to Ashelin, his usually solemn face holding a flash of discomfort for the governor. "Ashelin, it's okay to miss him. He was your father," Torn admitted as he reached out his hand to Ashelin's.
Ashelin jumped a little as his unexpected contact; it wasn't normal that Torn had so much compassion. But she soon relaxed under his soft touch and gripped his hand back. "I don't miss him, though. He wasn't a father. He was a tyrant. If he could, he'd probably bring this city to Hell with him and laugh as he watched the innocent people burn," Ashelin said as she traced Torn's hand with her forefinger. "He shouldn't have been the one to govern this city."
Torn's features relaxed even more as he brought her hand up to his eye level, cradling it with both hands in a strong but gentle clutch. "But you are the one to govern this city," Torn whispered into the top of Ashelin's palm, gingerly leaning down to press his pale lips against her soft hand. Ashelin's eyes widened but she made no protest at Torn's sudden actions. It was actually kind of relieving.
"If there's anyone that was meant to rule this city, it's you Ash. It takes a lot to be strong but still compassionate of the citizens, but you seem damn well capable of it," Torn continued as he lowered Ashelin's hand to her desk. Ashelin sighed a drawn out sigh.
"But ya know," Torn started again, but his tone of voice was now sounding more playful than sincere and a grin was twitching at his features, "you do get all pissed and defensive when someone challenges you. Feisty."
Ashelin rolled her eyes. "I do not! Shut up!" she growled as the tips of her ears began to brighten in an embarrassed shade of red, which contrasted with the dark shade of her tattoos.
"See? See? You're doing it right now!" Torn laughed as Ashelin started out of her chair and around the desk. She had her teeth gritted as she moved towards the man, hand stiffening like she was about to bitch-slap him, although she knew she wouldn't. But before Ashelin could even lay a finger on him, Torn leapt out of his chair and gently seized Ashelin by her shoulders.
"But ya know what else? I like that in a woman," Torn grunted. Ashelin stared up at him, her head tilted. He raised a single brow, as did she.
"Do you now?" Ashelin cooed in a mysterious, low-keyed tone of voice. Torn nodded suavely. The governor's lips once again curled into that playfully malicious grin that Torn seemed to fancy so much, and without knowing, the pair slowly drifted closer, lips parting. Torn's hands moved down towards Ashelin's hips, and her hands gently embraced his neck, inching ever closer. Torn locked his silver blue eyes with Ashelin's mysterious green ones, and they could tell that destiny had planned for them an astonishing kiss. But before their lips could meet there was a gruff and pained voice gasping at the door.
"G-Governor Ashelin! Governor A-Ashelin!" the clearly male voice wailed with panic, wheezing for breath in between his words.
Ashelin's eyes widened as she abruptly let go of Torn, leaving him to watch on in puzzlement as she bounded towards the large double doors that were the entrance to her office. The man sounded urgent, and apparently viciously hurt. In an instant she had unlatched the doors, swinging them wide open.
A young man, around twenty or so and decked in heavy Krimzon Guard armor, stumbled into the room. He promptly collapsed in a breathless heap in front of Ashelin's feet with a painful clatter. His bulky uniform was scratched, dented, and torn in multiple places, the obvious signs of a dangerous battle.
Ashelin gasped as she kneeled down next to the man, fear pervading her mind as she imagined what could've happened to this young man. Torn immediately bolted to the man's nearly lifeless body, his forehead crinkling with concern as he quickly looked the Guard over.
"We have to loosen his helmet. He can't breathe easily in that thing," Torn ordered with a tone of experience. Ashelin nodded and hastily unlatched the buckle under the man's neck. Instantly, a warm fluid that Ashelin hadn't noticed before under the man's massive uniform began to trickle onto her hands. Its sticky thickness made her wince, and as she quickly shot a glance down at her hands, the red substance was without doubt what she had feared.
Blood.
The man's injuries were apparently worse than she had first presumed; his armor had covered most of his wounds, so his bruises and slices wouldn't be obvious at a glance. As Ashelin began to gingerly remove the man's mask, her eyes were greeted with a gruesome sight. His face was mauled and oozing with bright red blood, tender wounds gaping as beads of sweat stung his skin. His face muscles tensed, his eyes slightly opened, and although his breathing was quick and irregular, he seemed to welcome the fresh air.
"G-G-Governor," the injured man mustered as he tried to focus his vision on Ashelin. He took another painful breath. "Ma'am, ma'am I h-have something to report."
Ashelin swallowed hard. "What happened?" she asked shakily as the man's mournful brown eyes struggled to stay open, the pure burden of breathing making him see double.
The man heaved another breath, but suddenly began to cough violently, blood beginning to secrete from the corners of his mouth. His face began to pale; coughing took more strength than he had.
Torn growled under his breath before he leaned in next to Ashelin. "Tell us!" he snapped, but not too loudly. Ashelin shot him a glare to be patient, but it wasn't long before the man came to.
The man wheezed in another breath, striving to suppress his coughing. "M- Metal Heads," he whispered weakly, and though he seemed to have more to tell, his last strand of energy was spent. His eyes rolled back into his head and his frame relaxed, the air quenching his lungs for one final time.
~*~
The room above the race garage was completely dark as if the area alone was so eerie that it scared even light away. Even the bright, radiant moonlight that reflected off the pure white snow failed to seep its way to break through the shadows, but although the room seemed lifeless, a young woman still dwindled in its deep, haunting depths. Her silhouette, darker than the surrounding shadows, was curvy and womanly, distinctively Keira's. But an odd aura of death seemed to radiate from her trance-like posture.
"You can't," she whispered into the cold air in her apartment. "You can't make me kill." She could feel the area under her eyes growing damp, tears aching to stream down her paling face. But she wouldn't let them. "You can't make me do anything at all. You can't, you can't," she repeated over and over, each time growing quieter until her voice was merely a whisper. As she fell silent, a gust blew through her room, though a window was not open.
The piercing cold air whirled past the tips of her elfish ears, and deep within her mind she could her a deep, rasping, and menacing laugh, almost intimidating her to do what she whished not to think about.
"I SAID YOU CAN'T MAKE ME DO ANYTHING, GODDAMMIT!" Keira yelled at the sound of the demented chuckle, cutting off its evil cackle, but when she fell quiet to see if her command had done anything the room was as silent as the grave.
"Why are you doing this to me?! What do you want with me?!" her voice was hysterical as she cried out into the emptiness. "Aren't you listening? Why won't you answer?" she asked quietly.
The parasite in her back slithered slightly, causing Keira's face to twist in an expression of pain.
"This is what you want, isn't it. To just keep torturing me until I eventually give up and let you take over all of me?" Keira cried. "I don't even know what the hell you are, and I don't know what you want me for!"
"~Stupid girl. Listen, and you will know. They are waiting for you. They are waiting for us. Though you do not know it, you have called them here~"
Keira's eyes widened. She had wanted the voice to answer her, but hadn't expected it to. In fact, she prayed that all of this was just a dream. After all, she was exhausted, and was most likely not in her right mind. Besides, what the voice had said made no sense at all. "B-but, the killing, why do you make me want to, to kill?! And-and, who, and what?!" Keira's voice was humble and quiet now, but panic was all too obvious in her usually, and uniquely cheerful voice.
"~Those who ask are thirsty for information, no? But just looked around you. Look at yourself. You see no change. But soon, yes, in given time~"
Keira recognized a new emotion in this mysterious voice that made her feel at ease, if only the slightest bit. But of course, she wasn't stupid and could tell that it was all an act. Evil had no compassion. Evil never had compassion. And this fact could not be proven incorrect.
The insignia on her arm burned slightly, causing her eyes to gaze to the area on her humerus where it was located. Though it was very dark in the room, Keira could almost make out the glowing borders of the skull and claw, as well as the strange words. Confusion forced a sigh out of Keira, as she began to ask, "B-but I still know nothing about this---"
"~Ask no more questions. They will soon be answered. But you are tired, young one. So rest. But promise me you will tell no one. No one can know. Not even Jak~"
Keira looked taken aback. "How did you know about Jak!?!?" she asked, a bit frightened of the answer, but curious nonetheless. The voice did not answer.
Keira would've begun nagging the voice for an answer, not because she was particularly interested in knowing, but because she was scared out of her wits and didn't want to be left without answers. But as if the ability to stay awake was out of her control, the young woman's eyes fell shut as sleep called for her.
~*~
Jak was tense as he lowered his single-seat zoomer towards his dilapidated house in the slums, his breath turning to freezing steam as he huffed in discontent. He could've had a mansion with his newfound fame as a hero and relations with the government, but he seemed quite content living in the ramshackle shed of a home. Besides that, it was the closest shack to the race garage, since the area between Mar Memorial Stadium and the slums wasn't a housing district, so Jak had quite easy access to Keira.
Daxter sighed a deep sigh and stood up erect on Jak's shoulder, the zoomer near to pulling to a complete stop. "Ahhh, home sweet"-the ottsel paused and strained his eyes to make out a tall, dark figure in front of the house- "WHO IN THE NAME OF PRECURSORS IS THAT?!" Indeed, there was a dark form in front of the house, and seemed quite suspicious as he lurked near the windows.
"I'd like to know that myself," Jak muttered under his breath, seemingly quite angry. The silhouette of the man was tall, with broad shoulders and perfect posture, but he was a bit on the lanky side besides that. The man was peering into the dark windows of Jak and Daxter's hut, and Jak's eyes narrowed as he wondered what this peculiar man was doing.
Jak leapt off his zoomer, feet falling without sound in the frozen snow as Daxter cowered behind him. "Yo, you!" Jak said in a deep, threatening voice. "What the hell are you doing in front of my house?"
The man's pointy ears perked up slightly, though he did not bother to look at the brawny green-haired elf behind him. "Can I help you?" the man asked sarcastically, still not revealing his face or identity to Jak or Daxter.
"Help me? You playing smart with me, ya son of a bitch?!" Jak snapped hotly as he made a reach for the man's shoulder, but was abruptly stopped by a pair of ottsel paws. "Daxter . . . " Jak muttered furiously under his breath, casting a dark glare at his rodent friend, who hung with his hind- paws dangling from Jak's arm.
Daxter just looked at Jak with a face that seemed to ask what the blonde elf was thinking. "Jak, chill a'ight? We dunno what this guys up to!" the ottsel whispered, a bit taken aback by Jak's sudden irrational behavior. Jak just furrowed his eyebrows at Dax, completely disregarding his-for once- wise words. Daxter rolled his eyes and plopped back down into the snow.
The man craned his neck slightly, the profile of his face now visible to the pair awaiting his explanation. "Listen to the squirrel, pal. He might be of value now and then," the man's voice was full, rich, and regal, much contrasting with his rather scrawny build. He turned around in a full circle, finally revealing his face to Jak and the ottsel.
The man's eyes were a rich blue, seeming so kindhearted that it would be hard to believe he was up to anything sinister. His face was in between long and round, pointing out to a full chin with a neatly groomed, blondish goatee, the same color as his eyebrows, but darker than his blonde hair. It turned out that what Jak and Daxter had presumed to be broad shoulders on the man were actually silver shoulder plates, and the boys were a bit surprised to see bulky muscled arms under the plates. A long, earth brown tunic decked the man's torso, and a shoulder bag slanted diagonally to his right hip, parallel with pale tan baggy pants that covered the man's long legs. Black boots adorned his feet, and a long black overcoat finished off his outfit.
"I was just wandering by to check out the houses in this run down part of the city," the man admitted, not fazed by Jak's aggressive snarl. He was certainly not the kind of man to give into intimidations. He raised a moderately bushy eyebrow at Jak, which seemed to tease the hero's temper even further. "I hope your new governor is doing something about this, -poverty- in Haven. Ashelin, is it? And I wonder how she's handling the Metal Head situation," the man inquired as he fiddled with a pair of dark brown, fingerless gloves.
"Ashelin is a good governor, to your information," Jak muttered, "and she is working her ass off for this city. The Metal Heads are gone now anyway, they don't have a leader! Now if you don't mind I would like you to get the hell away from my house!" Jak made a lunge for his front door, assuming that the man wouldn't budge and he'd have to put up a fight. But the man moved quite willingly as Jak ripped open his door.
The man sighed as he folded his arms across his chest. "As you wish. Wouldn't want to cause any trouble, being so close to the holidays. Besides, it's below freezing and two after midnight. I can tell you've been through a lot today. G'night," the man said. Jak just stared on with a 'what the hell?' expression at the man's sudden change of attitude. But the man just turned on heel with his hands in his overcoat, casting a warm, but surprisingly authentic smile at Jak. For some odd reason, it was as if the man had just found what he was looking for.
-To Be Continued-
~*~*~
Hoo boy, I know short chapter for having to wait so long. Like I said, things got jumbled up after the holidays. I promise the next chapter will be up much sooner! Until then, please review with thoughts, suggestions, whatnot and etc.!