Atlantis Arising [M] [Most Original 4Q '11] [Best Veteran 1Q '12]
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February 21st, 2012 (3:28 AM).
Butcher of the Sands
Jeremy Kyle - London, England
Jeremy turned to talk to Jason Weaver when he took a while to respond, but the person looking at him was not Jason, instead a rather large lady looked back at him intimidatingly. He was certain that Jason was somewhere in the room, but even as he scanned the crowd, no one even looking remotely like Jason. Cursing under his breath, he teleported away, appearing on top of the roof that looked across the busy London street at the Atlantean Centre. Jason could have easily slipped out and joined the crowd, so Jeremy had no way of finding him again; this had been his only chance to recruit. He was on the verge of giving up and teleporting back to the headquarters when his watched squawked to life; if the Syndicate needed to get hold of Jeremy while he was in the field, his watch acted as a communicator as well as a couple of other added features.
“Change of plan,” came the Directive’s voice from the tiny speaker located above the watch face, “we have a new target for you, in America.” Jeremy was a bit taken aback, he had only been to America a handful of times and on neither of those occasions had he teleported there. He continued to listen as the Directive told Jeremy where he had to go, and the name of his target, but Jeremy was biting his lip the whole time since he hadn’t been anywhere near Ohio before.
“We expect you to succeed on this one.” The Directive finished menacingly.
Jeremy breathed in, holding it down before letting it out in a massive sigh and falling to the ground. This was going to be a lot tougher than teleporting around Europe; America seemed a lot more hostile than Europe even more so since he had hardly ever travelled there before. His high school had taken a trip to Washington DC several years back, and his memory was already getting fuzzy, but he did remember the plane trip from Toronto to Washington DC. Focussing now, he sat calmly on the ground, eyes closed and breathing steadily; in through his nose, out through his mouth. He pictured Toronto, the city he had grown up in, specifying it more to the school he attended, the halls he had walked, the classes he had sat in. The old smells crept into his nose; the stink of teenage sweat, the cleaning agents the cleaners used and within a minute the light from the morning sun over England was replaced by the darkness that followed the setting sun.
Opening his eyes, an eerie chill ran down his spine as he was now back in Toronto High, albeit the halls were dark and absent of human bodies and the air was chill. He walked past rows of lockers, the familiar ones from when he had attended all those years back now covered and taken over by a new occupant. He willed himself to keep moving on, to get out of the ghostly memories that haunted him in this place. Teleporting again, he appeared outside of a window he had looked through, breathing in the tainted Toronto air, however it felt fresher than the smog filled city of London.
Jeremy was lucky that the airport was the same as he had remembered it from those years ago where he went to Washington DC. The only problem was that the stall he appeared in already had an occupant, and after an awkward exchange, Jeremy quickly bolted out of the bathroom and into Toronto Airport. He was slightly disorientated as the airport had changed quite drastically, but a quick look at the airport terminal map hanging on the wall quickly told Jeremy where he was and where he needed to get to. Above the map sat two television screens, one showing the departures, the other showing arrivals. Lucky for Jeremy, there was a flight heading for Dayton, Ohio in ten minutes; if he was quick, he would be able to make it without having to purchase a ticket.
Ten minutes later and the plane was taking off from Toronto Airport, heading towards Dayton, Ohio which would take little over two hours. Safely reclining in one of the back seats, Jeremy gripped the armrests on either side of him as the guy flying next to him gave him a weird look.
“Scared of flying, huh?” the large man said with a laugh.
“Petrified,” Jeremy managed to reply, teeth clenched shut as the airplane lifted off the ground, releasing his tight grip once they had levelled off and the seatbelt sign had switched off. With sweat beading down his forehead, he turned to the man, “Let me tell you something funny about flying, eh?” slipping slightly back into his old Canadian accent.
The large man moved around seemingly trying to get comfortable so he could listen to Jeremy, “a joke would help loosen you up,” he again laughed a deep laugh, Jeremy however did not see how any of this was funny.
“You see the ‘recommended’ brace position? Well, the reason they have it is because in an air accident, you’re ****ed anyway, by doing this it stretches your spine out, revealing the back of your neck so that it can snap easily.” Horror began to creep onto the man’s face, but Jeremy continued talking, “Following this, your jaw will snap shut tightly, preserving your dental records, same thing that the brace position does. As for the oxygen, pure oxygen is like a drug, it mellows you out, keeps you calm, what better way to die than on a high, right?”
Jeremy could actually swear the man was on the verge of tears, ready to jump out the door. Several times he caught the man looking rapidly at all the exit doors in case they started to go down, “Oh, a word of warning,” Jeremy said, hoping to catch the man further off guard, “I wouldn’t use the aisle’s if I were you, everyone will do that so your survival rate drastically decreases. Try jumping over the seats,” and after sizing the man up, “but I doubt a man of your stature and weight could handle that.”
Two seconds later, and the man requested for a seat change. Jeremy was happy to be left by himself, there was no one to bother him on the flight, and he had plenty of space to freak out when they descended….as well as both hand rests.
The descent was just as bad as the take-off, but once they had landed safely on the ground, Jeremy relaxed again, knowing that he hadn’t died on the flight. Looking out the window, he picked a spot outside the perimeter fence of the Airport in the gloomy twilight and within seconds felt the cool evening air brush over him, replacing the stale air inside of the aircraft. A quick taxi ride after and he arrived safely at Wright-Patterson Air force Base, teleporting out before he had to pay a fee. Once inside, he wound his way through the civilian homes until he came to one in specific: Heiko Residence. He took a quick knock at the door, stepping back and hoping that Jericho would answer.
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