War against WICKED (First Draft)

CHAPTER ONE: KARMA

KΛЯMΛ

Skye Atkins walked down the stairs and into the bar, the warmth hitting her face as her body left the cold and harsh winter winds outside. She removed her jacket and scarf, leaving her gloves on, out of habit and made her way to her usual seat at the bar; right in the middle, giving her a clear view of the television and making it easier for the bartender to chat with her while doing his job.

Heads turned as the bright blue-haired head entered the bar. The newcomers looking in awe like they would at a celebrity, and the old ones gave her an acknowledging nod.

“Skye!” Bachhus, the bar owner and the God of alcoholic drinks in the crime world, greeted me from the left end of the bar as he poured drinks for the group in front of him. Skye gave him a nod in response. Bachhus raised a finger, indicating her to wait for a moment as he gave his attention to a couple. Skye looked around the bar. She remembered a time when only she and Bacchus sat in the middle of the empty room on the floor and stared at the television, the darkness of the world eating them up. Skye had just lost her parents and Bacchus, his family in the war. The bar was the remains of his house at that time. She was seventeen then. She could still distinctly recall Bacchus getting up after hours of silence and deciding that he was going to open a bar for all those who have been hurt for no reason, a haven for those who are running, a home for those who needed one, and mostly, a reason for him to live. Six years later, the bar was more crowded than shops with sales on Black Friday.

“How was your day?” Bacchus asked his usual question as he dried the cleaned glasses with a piece of cloth. In his own way, Bacchus was the father Skye needed. “Did you slap that jerk from the Machiato company?”

Skye was a freelance architect who did random jobs here and there, one of which was a project for the Machiato company. The jerk from the Machiato company was a guy who thought he could place his hands anywhere and get away with it. “Turns out, he had been abusing his wife for years.”

Bacchus smile grew. “You said ‘had’.”

Skye smirked. “I did what I had to do.”

“I know and I’m proud.” He replied. “I’ll get you your usual.” He bent across the bar to whisper. “Also, Tristan is here.”

Like most others in that bar, Bacchus knew about her powers and her love life. The normal stuff that goes about people’s ears and mouths when other people get famous. Tristan was the most famous of all of her rumors. From what she heard, they had had the most drama-filled, weapons involved and massacre of innocents break up ever. When in reality, all that had happened was they decided while eating pizza in their sweatpants on the couch while watching a movie, that it didn’t work out.

“Guys! Shut the F up!” a familiar voice yelled out. Bryce, Skye’s neighbor and when in need, a partner in crime. He increased the sound of the television as the crowd slowly fell quiet.

“We have just heard some breaking news that is going to shatter some hope in our lives...” The anchor spoke slowly. She paused as she took a breath. “Hermes, also known as the son of Zeus, or our savior; has been killed. He was found lying on the road with his insides clawed out. Whatever had the power to kill the strongest man alive is definitely not a force to be reckoned with.” she paused again. “On this day, the entire world shall mourn the death of a man, who did so much for the people. The other heroes have also given their-”

Bryce switched the TV off. Every single head in the bar turned to look at Skye. She stared right at Bryce as she raised her glass.

“Drinks on me.”