djtenku | [writing] Project Chaos

Title: Prologue
Word Count: 1,168
Summary: Conference. Attack. Chaos.

The sky was bright and cloudless, stars glittering, despite being late in the morning; the full moon sat on the horizon, looming over the snow capped mountains. Flashes of green and blue lights occasionally danced around it. The bitter arctic wind blew through the taiga forest, whistling its haunting and dead tone through the tall evergreen trees that stopped abruptly against the steel buildings that scattered, ending in a five mile radius in the valley below, along with two high rising towers that stood tall on a hill, looking over the forest and the buildings.

Sentrymen patrolled the buildings, mostly around the entrances and the corners. They would chat to each other, on break, to pass the time and to swap stories, even if they were exaggerated and false, but they enjoyed it nevertheless. The wolf-dogs were also there with their trainers; some were in the cages were they huddled for warmth and company as well. In the center of it all, a helicopter stood in the middle, marked with Gothic styled white letters of “C”, “T,” and “G” painted on the sides.

A click and a half beneath the cold surface, the air was different. Curiosity, excitement, and cautiousness all blended thickly as the press media huddled around the raised platform. The cameras, though idle, were placed in the back and in the middle of the aisle, staring at the blue velvet background along with the lights.

“Are you sure about this?” Racre Xander, President of Grasino asked, cleaning his dirt-spotted glasses with his silk hankerchief. “I know it’s been two years, but I don’t think the world’s ready for this.” He glared at Bonol Fargo the Second, President of CatagiTech questionably the bulbous man laughed jolliedly.

“Well of course I am,” he said, clapping a pudgy hand against Xander’s thin back, almost causing him to drop his glasses. “If I wasn’t sure then either of us would be here. I think there’s an old saying…”

The Grasino president went back to cleaning his glasses, tuning Fargo out, but made eye contact. Two long years since it all started with last Project, Zero. Not to mention the mass recall of Senators, Congressmen, and even the Justices, triggering an incarceration and almost near chaos in the country.

He smiled ruefully on the inside. That should be the name for the new Project, for all the trouble Zero caused, and almost his death.

Xander consciously brushed his short grey hair, fingering the scar on the back of his head after he pushed up his glasses onto his hooked nose. “Don’t you agree?” he heard Fargo ask, bringing him back from his trance.

“Yes sir,” he replied with a smile.

Fargo studied the bony man for a second with his hooded eyes until he nodded. “Good. Now let’s go; they’re waiting for us.”

Both men traveled from behind the curtain and onto the raised dais, greeted by the flashing of the cameras, questions, and some appaulse. The guards that stood a ways from the platform quickly blocked the entrances.

“Now, now,” the President of CatagiTech said as he gestured the press to settle down. “I’m anxious too.” It was several minutes before silence took the press room. “First off,” he said in a heavy tone, echoing through the large hall, “welcome to Greenland. I know Mother Nature probably doesn’t agree, but who cares? This is quite the fine morning for us and the world.”

Xander grabbed the mircophone from the stand, with minor feedback, and clearing his throat before speaking. “Sorry that I do not speak as loud as Mr. Fargo does,” he said eliciting a few chuckles from the press. “As you may know, it has been two years since the last Project was created and destroyed, followed by countless scandals. We have decided to collaborate on the next one, and this time, it will not be easily accessed by anyone.”

“I am sure that will be a relief to you all,” Fargo said with a smile. He looked at Xander, who glared at him with empty eyes and shurked, barely visible to the press.

“However,” Xander said, gaze leaving the man, “we will not give information as to what the new Project’s capabilities are at this moment.”

“Isn’t it why you have picked Greenland?” a reporter asked. “Isn’t it illegal to have a base on foreign soil without their consent?

“Yes it is,” Fargo answered. He glanced at Xander, who nodded, allowing for him to speak, “but the Prime Minister was more than willing to let us if it meant more revenue and jobs. However, we weren’t aiming for tactical deploy or anything like that, no. We broke no rules or international treaties.”

“Then what is the purpose of this new Project if it will not be used militarily?”

Xander pushed up his glasses again. “It will be the prime example of the next-generation of smart technology for years to come.” He paused, deciding on what to do. Instead he added, “This meeting is now concluded.”

A roar of questions filled the room as Xander placed the mircophone back into its slot. “That was vague of you,” Fargo whispered.

“They can’t know now. We’ve had them at bay for this long enough and there’s no turning our backs on this,” he hissed. “Now let’s get out of here.”

"Right,” Fargo muttered. As he stepped down the platform, he looked up at a small glint that flashed above him. He only blinked twice before he tasted warm, salty liquid that pooled in his mouth before spilling onto his white vest in red spots. He looked down, seeing a long metallic rod lodged in his chest; the edge tipped in white feathers.

“What?” he whispered hoarsely, feeling blood go free in his body, and wrapping his hands around it. Fargo looked at Xander, whose grey eyes were wide and terrified of what he had seen. Why now? We were so close… The body of the President of CatagiTech fell over, landing on the steel floor with a thunk.

No one dared move, let alone breathe. Xander dropped to his knees and watched as the guards and press suddenly erupt in flames, screaming and wailing, like the lost souls in the pits of Hell.

A figure slowly approached him from the side, stepping over Fargo’s body. It was certainly hulking in shape, but he didn’t quite get a good look at its face, except its fanged wild grin. “Are you Death?” he asked weakly, bowing his head.

“Oh, you’re good, Mr. Xander,” the figure replied in such a voice that Xander could imagine the figure: commanding, savage, and ruthless. “But no, I’m not Death. We can arrange that however, after you tell me how to activate that Project. You still haven’t named it yet. What shall we call it?”

Racre Xander fought a lump in his throat as he looked at the fire, and then the figure once again. “Chaos,” he answered. “Project Chaos.”