Mad As A Hatter (Completed 2015) [WATTY AWARD WINNER *Featured Story*]

chapter seven ◊ And Then She Must Do Her Homework

This chapter's image is a photo of the Eagles home aka where Hatter is now.

+ not edited (again) +

“Cameron, gang leader of Eagles and server of Hell.”  I guessed handshakes weren’t his thing as he tilted a nod in my direction. 

“You seem to already know me so there is no point in introducing myself,” I said. 

“Very well.”  He guided me into a seat and stood across the table.  “You’re here about your past.  Grim informed me.  A news about demon leakings, hm?”  He placed his hands down, inching closer.  “Lets start with your past first.  I will tell you what I know, and that is all I know so do not expect that I have infinite answers.” 

I comfortably leaned back in the wooden chair, wanting him to know I was not a tad intimidated.  Crossing my arms, I bowed my head for him to carry on.

“What happens in the transformation of the Purge is after the death of one, the search for a new one begins.  The proper candidate would have to be a strong hearted individual, advanced skills in fields of multiple academic levels and physical combat.  But most of all, they must carry a dark message, it can be despair, revenge, grief—a negative aspect that would forever weigh on their shoulders.  Their life must be on the verge of death to be exchanged into the Purge.  However, the records show you have minor cases of the dark aspects although you’re excellent in other categories.”  He leaned over and tapped my wrist.  “It is what’s in here that made you the Purge.  It’s in your blood.”    

I clutched my wrist, the green veins throbbing at his touch.  “What about my blood.” 

“Jessie Daniels, your previous form, was born with a drug.  This drug gave your body and mind such incredible skills—mutant even.  But its effects had their defaults.  You developed an alter ego, one without a heart.  Those people once existed by the name called Cold Bloods.  You were transforming into a monster with no feelings, no soul, no mindset.  Your mission was to kill.  It is to conclude that overtime, the drug had completely invaded your system and because of this rapidly increasing change, it was too much for your own human body to handle.  This led to death.  Hell on the other hand, went crazy for your blood—it something like sweet nectar.  It made them adore you to such an extent that they chose you to be their Purge.”

It could have taken a while for a human to process this.  But my mind worked fast, dialing this information in to make of some use to me.  Hell, demons, saved my life.  I was going to die.  Did that mean I had to return the favour by pursing this killing spree?  It was a question I was willing to hold off, greedy for anything else. 

“Is there more?” I asked.

He opened a drawer and I watched his fingers dance across thousands of papers, miraculously pulling at one that appeared to be almost at random.  He tossed it over, it spinning to stop below my nose. 

The bulging folder was held by a string, it neatly tied in a bow that flopped to the right.  Carefully pulling, it drooped onto the desk.  Here we go… I extended my fingers towards the flap.  But his voice left my hand hovering over the unopened folder.  “Hatter, things we lose in the past have a way of coming back to us.”

“Unless we can quickly let them go,” I responded.  He stayed silent.  Lifting the flap, my eyes struggled to swallow the black inked letters that made up only half of a pin.  Skimming past, I flipped through, making note to go back to it.  Then my gaze landed on a photo pinned to a file. 

“He was a notorious gang leader a few years ago,” Cameron said.  He stood his ground, fully aware I needed my distance.  “He belonged to the Snipers.  Has disappeared without a trace since.” I raked over the image, the cautious dark look in his honey eyes taking in his own surroundings as he stepped out of a car.  As if he knew someone was watching.  “What are his connections related to my file?”  I silently read the descriptions, not taking consideration for Cameron’s lack of response.  Scanning his gang’s increasing market sales and theories of human lab testing, I finally lifted my head to see Cameron staring hard at the photos.  “He tried to kill you.”