Basic Oblivion

Prologue

A shady man walked down an alley and opened the door to an old, abandoned warehouse. He wore a black suit and a black tie with a black fedora on his head pulled down to conceal his face. The man was carrying a silver briefcase that was handcuffed to his wrist.

The man stopped and looked around to make sure that no one was following him before he entered through the door. The warehouse was full of old pipes and a few saws from when it was used to produce metal. The only light in the building was coming from several small windows near the ceiling.

The silhouette of a man and his bodyguards could be seen standing on the other side of the room. "Did you bring it?" the man asked.

The man with the briefcase walked quickly to his associate and pulled out a small key. He unlocked the handcuffs and opened the briefcase to reveal that it was full of one hundred dollar bills, all neatly stacked in rows. The man looked nervously from his associate to the bodyguards, then back to his associate.

"Excellent," said the man with the bodyguards. "You've done a great job, and no one followed you?"

"No," the man with the briefcase said, nervously. "I came alone."

"Perfect," the guarded man said. He reached for the briefcase, when it suddenly disappeared. "What the-?!" he shouted with surprise. The bodyguards all pulled out guns with small flashlights attached to them and began to swing them around, looking for any intruders.

A voice came from up above them on the catwalk. "Oh, Johnny," the voice said in a mocking, almost childish tone. "For me? You shouldn't have! And to think that I didn't get you anything."

The guarded man looked up above him. "Whoever you are, do you have any idea who you're messing with?" he asked.

The voice responded, with a more serious tone. "Maxwell Zealots," it said. "You are the second in command to the boss of the mafia in this town. That sound about right?"

Maxwell took a step back. "Then you must be aware that you won't be leaving this place alive," he said, motioning for one of his guards to go up to the catwalk.

The guard nodded as he began walking towards the stairs that lead up to the catwalk. As soon as his foot touched the first step, he fell back and laid on the floor motionless. A small trickle of blood came down from a bullet hole in his forehead.

"I wouldn't say that," the voice said. "I think that I can take care of myself."

A shadowy figure came down from the ceiling, grabbing one of the other guards and silently pulling him back up to the ceiling. His voice was muffled by the creature so that no one noticed he had vanished until his gun hit the ground. The other guards were starting to get nervous, the man who had been carrying the briefcase before was running for the door in fear.

The man pulled at the door frantically, but it wasn't opening. He heard a quiet hiss coming from nearby. He turned slowly and let out a scream as he was pulled by the leg and dragged into the shadows.

Maxwell looked around and reached for a pistol he kept in his pocket. He ran to the back door and kicked it open, running out into an alley and towards a car with a driver waiting for him.

Four figures materialized in a cloud of black smoke on the roof of the building behind the car, out of sight from the driver. One of the figures stepped forward, he was wearing a black sleeveless hoodie with the hood pulled over his head to hide his face. He had on a brown bandana, a red shirt, blue jeans, and fingerless black gloves.

The figure in the hood watched Maxwell run to the car and get in. "Man," he sighed. "Why can't they just stop trying to run away?"

The hooded boy turned to one of the other figures, it was girl of about eighteen with long hair, the top was orange but it turned black as it went down. She was wearing a gothic, medieval black tunic dress with black pants and black combat boots on, a scroll was strapped across her hip. Her eyes were covered up by bandages and she had sharp fangs that came out of her mouth like an overbite.