VOXISTALE: Novel Edition

Chapter 42

"You must choose."

A tall figure walked slowly down the street. It was raining heavily, and he could barely see twenty feet in front of him. His glasses were fogged over, and his blonde hair was dripping in front of his face, his already obscured vision further hindered.

"You've turned your back on our laws and ideals."

His heart was thundering in his chest as he moved, every single step seeming to strain him.

"You've chosen a selfish path over the true one."

As he stomped slowly through the rain, the man came upon a woman in a torn red dress, with flowing black hair that was splayed on the ground, and bright pink eyes staring fearfully up at the man as he approached. Her legs were bound, and her knees were scraped and bloody.

"You must choose."

The man stopped, standing over the woman, both holding each other's gaze for several long moments. His eyes began to well with tears as a deep blue glow began to emanate from his fist.

"You must choose. Her . . . or the Messiah."

"Dadda!"

The man had entered a small house, rain still pouring down outside. A little girl, no older than two, sat on the floor, a toy barbie doll in her hand, an elderly woman sitting on a chair nearby, knitting.

"Johnny, you're back!" the woman greeted, squinting through her thick glasses at him.

"Thank you for watching after her, Ms. Juniper. You can go home now," the man replied, scooping up the little girl into his arms, tears still running down his face. Ms. Juniper stood up slowly, staring at him.

He held her gaze for a moment, before she spoke, "My God . . . they made you do it." She breathed, and Johnny turned away, closing his eyes tightly as he hugged his daughter close to him.

"Please. Ms. Juniper. Go home."

". . . I hope you're doing the right thing, son," Ms. Juniper placed a hand on Johnny's back, staring pitifully at him, though her eyes appeared more betrayed than anything else, before turning and walking out into the storm.

"Dadda!" the little girl called happily again, placing her hand on her father's face and rubbing his stubble.

He smiled sadly at her, "I'm so sorry, Trinity . . ." he muttered. "My little girl, I'm . . ." He couldn't speak anymore, tears flowing down his cheeks, before he turned, and walked out of the door, following Ms. Juniper into the rain, leaving behind a small, circular device on the floor. Once he was a distance away, Johnny flicked his wrist, his hand glowing blue, before the device went off, and the home erupted in a brilliant explosion, wiping any trace of it—and his domestic life—from evidence.

He stared at it for a moment as his daughter cried into his shoulder, holding him tightly, terrified from the explosion. As the sounds of sirens neared, he turned and walked away, the only thing going through his mind was how much he knew he would regret this.

Tap . . . tap . . . tap . . .

The sound of a pen clicking against wood over and over again could be heard echoing through the otherwise dead silent chamber that Trickster called her own. The purple-haired assassin was seated at her desk on the wall adjacent to the door; her bedroom was nothing extravagant, though she had requested a king sized bed upon first moving in, which stood out like a sore thumb.

"Where could you be . . ." Trixie whispered under her breath, a red pen in her hand, a massive map of Voxis city before her. It took up the entire surface of the large mahogany desk, and on it, several buildings were circled, some crossed off.