//------------------------------// // Darkness on the Rise // Story: The Day My Life Began // by Authora97 //------------------------------// The office was especially dull today. The same usual paperwork, the same usual delinquents, and the usual day of boredom. My lessers would come and speak with me, to kiss up. The day would start with me, making coffee and having a healthy breakfast. I would shower, comb my hair, shave, brush the teeth. I would dress in a black business suit. I would drive to work, set up shop, and My wife would come by, at lunch, and give me a kiss on the cheek. My daughter would sometimes show up, doing some of her homework if school was back. During weekends, she would just watch Netflix. ‘The Center has better internet, Dad.’ Lila said once I asked. Yet, today, on New Year’s Eve, it was different. “President Chamberlin, your twelve o‘clock is here.” My secretary, Emma, said over the landline. I held back a groan. A Traveler from out of state had asked to speak with me. He claimed it was about something important, but it rarely was these days. Everyone panicking over that end of that bullcrap. A part of me hopes it was done, but I was not the hopeful type. “Send him in.” I replied to Emma. “Yes sir.” Emma said, the line cutting off with a loud beep. I ran a hand over my face. I had already spent an hour conversing with Mister Trevor on the status of our prisoners in Level Five. We had a five layer dungeon. Each layer was another level of dangerous. Our most dangerous criminals stayed on Level Five until execution. On rare occasion, some foolish teenager brings a Character from their Place. They were placed on Level Five until they were deemed dangerous or not. If not they were sent home. If so, then it’s a good thing they were on Level Five. Of course, my wife somehow convinced them to put children on Level One. Character, miscreant, or anything else. If it hadn’t gone through puberty, it was sent to Level One. *knock* *knock* “Come in.” I said. The door opened, revealing a man that made the hairs on my neck stand. He was six feet high, I believe. His body was young, but in my line of work I knew he was much older. The look in his black eyes agreed with me. His hair was dark, and cut in an almost buzz. He was dressed in all black. It reminded me of clothes a soldier might wear. Black shirt, black cargo pants, and the rubber of his sneakers scratched against the tile floor. He carried a black leather briefcase. The man took a seat across from me. I stared at him, trying to claim my superiority. I was President of this region, and I had worked too hard to gain that. “Your name isn’t Logan, is it?” I commented, remembering the name he was signed in under. The man chuckled. “It has been for a very long time, Dominic.” He said, a challenge in his eyes. They matched my own, I am sure. “What do you want?” I asked him, after a short pause. The man, Logan, looked around my office. He was smiling, like he was standing in a museum exhibit without the security guard knowing. “How long have you been President?” Logan asked, changing the subject. “Fifteen human years.” I answered. “Since the death of Queen Delilah Patterson, right?” Logan said. A spark of pride came to me. I had been in rule since that bitch died. September 17, 1997. Best day of my life. I had killed the Queen, and no one figured it out. Logan reached back, opening his briefcase. “Is this right? Camera angle was a bit shaky, but I think I was able to get the jist.” He pulled out a photograph. When I saw it, I had half a mind to call security. It was of me and Delilah, all those years ago. I was standing over her crumpled body. I remembered that. I was telling her why I had killed her. Why she ruined my life. Why she should die. The look of betrayal in her eyes was something I pictured fondly over the years. How did he have this? I checked around for any sort of human presence to- “I’m sure you’re wondering how I managed to acquire this.” Logan said. “Simple. Brought myself back in time, simple time displacement spell. Works wonders. Had a lot of fun with that one.” I glared at him. “What do you want?” That made Logan’s grin change. It was like the cat had his prey in his class. “I will not be made a fool of by a child.” I growled. Oh, now Logan’s grin grew. Like I had assisted some long time inside joke. “Not yet, anyway.” Logan said. I glared. He reached into his briefcase. His black soulless eyes never left me. “Delilah wasn’t as stupid as you believed. The whole time this picture was going on, she was making sure her soul lived on.” “How?” I asked, confused and terrified at it’s meaning. Logan leaned forward in his chair. He gave me a grin, mixed with a smirk. “Well, after you explained your killing of her because she was always the favored one, the one Felicity liked better. You didn’t want to share Felicity, did you? Oh no. You wanted that lady all for yourself, and Delilah kept getting in the way. So, while you were so wrapped up in yourself, you never even noticed Delilah muttering to herself.” I stood up from my desk. “She can’t be alive!” “Delilah Patterson died, yes, but her soul on the other hand.” Logan said, offhandedly. He rose up from his chair, walking around my office. “September 17, 1997. Delilah Patterson died, setting off a domino effect. The Traveler Realm was forever changed. The entire world parted into sectors, governed over by Presidents.” He showed me the second picture he pulled from his briefcase. “Ya know, until people find out about her.” Then he showed me her picture. A girl, maybe eleven or twelve. Her hair was black, held back by a headband. She was in a school uniform, and smiling at the camera. School picture day. “The best photo of her I could get.” Logan said. “All the other ones are fuzzy, or she isn’t looking at the camera. Camera shy, apparently.” He threw the photo at me. “Born 2:37, Tulsa, Oklahoma.” “No.” I shook my head. “She didn’t!” “September Seventeenth, 1997. She’s fifteen now.” Logan said. “She couldn’t still be alive.” I argued. “She is.” Logan smirked. “And guess what. She’s one of us.” I shook my head. No. No. Fifteen years of hard work would not be undone because of her. Delilah would not ruin my life again, no! “Her name is Morgan Spencer, and as of right now, she has killed three million thirty thousand people.” That made me almost smile. “Sounds like a Level Five threat.” I commented. Logan smirked. “I’d be prepared. I’ve fought her before, and she is a tough nut to the crack.” “I’ve fought her before, too.” I snapped at the man. “Which ended up bringing Morgan to life.” Logan snarked. He grabbed a third picture. “You need a trump card. Trust me. I always bring one when I fight her.” I looked at the photo. I couldn’t see what was on it. “How long have you known her?” “Three hundred years.” I was right. He was older than he looked. “Her? She’s known me for her whole life.” Logan made his face tight, glaring at the photo of the girl. “Is that why you came to me?” I almost chuckled. “Cause you need help?” Logan went back to a smile. “Trust me, Dominic, if I want Morgan dead, she will die. I’ve killed her six times ” I smirked. “Six? Then why isn’t she dead already?” “Travels.” Logan excused. “I’ve had a blast.” He showed me the picture. “Her name is Lilac. She’s Morgan’s Created daughter.” My face recoiled in disgust. Created. Useless, the whole bunch of them. I have never liked my Createds. Whenever I would go anywhere, I would bring my wife. No unnecessary Createds needed. It was a dragon. That...that stupid whore made a dragon. Oh, Delilah, what the hell were you thinking?! I could maybe understand a regular average human, but a dragon! And what the hell was that pink horse? “My Little Pony.” Logan said. “She is naive as she is innocent. It’s a little sickening to be honest. I’ve seen Morgan almost repeatedly give her life for that sack of scales.” “Createds. Never understood why we needed them.” I spat, throwing the photo backing to him. The man just put it in his briefcase. “True, but two Createds helped me take down Morgan.” Logan grabbed the other photos. He pushed them into his briefcase. “You should start checking up on her. You never know when she’ll mess up.” Logan started towards the door. “You hate her.” Logan stopped. I took notice of that. “You hate Morgan. As much as I hate Delilah.” He turned towards me, and for the first in a long time, I felt my hearts stop. His black eyes were looking in my soul. They were almost glowing. My heart felt like it was being grabbed from inside my chest. Then, it squeezed. I gasped, falling onto my knees in pain. My hand reached up, trying to claw at the imaginary hand over my heart. The sound of his shoes was all I could hear. He knelt down, looking over me like I was a curiosity he needed solving. “No. I don’t hate Morgan.” Logan said. “Oh, how could I? She has some gorgeous amber eyes, that can never change. I’ve seen her try. Her heart is...like a mixture of darkness and purity. Shining so pure at times, and burning so dark at others.” I gasped, trying to stop my pain. Logan shifted about, leaning his back on my desk. He was on the ground at this point. He was acting like it was a campfire story. “Me and her, our relationship is so complicated. Sometimes she loves me, sometimes she hates me. Sometimes she wants to kill me. It’s adorable. The look of indecision over her face.” Logan laughed. “Oh. It’s a grand ole time. She plays hard to get, ya know? She flirts with other guys when I’m around. She barely beat me last time, so I’m waiting for our next match.” Suddenly, my heart was let go. I sagged to the ground, gasping for air. Logan just laughed at me. “So go ahead. Have your go with Morgan.” He got up, and started walking away. I was still reeling from the pain. “I know it’ll be you that ends her. Pull that rug out from under her feet.” The door opened, and he gave me a last look. “What...” “Just promise me one thing.” Logan requested. “Make it hurt.” That was the last time I ever saw Logan.