Give me all the critique you can guys! It's just the beginning, if you like it, I'll keep working on it. So leave some comments ^_^
(NOTE: Juvenile will be helping me too.)


“It’s a nice night for a walk,” Reeve Ackart smiled, staring up at the night sky, the bitter summer breeze tickling his form. Nothing seemed wrong in his life anymore, but it all seemed right. He chuckled, because he knew the ghosts from his past started to settle around him, enjoying the night as well. His life was a never ending party, and those invited usually stayed around until the end. They always would. Hands dug into his pockets, he turned to look to the girl he had come here with. “Don’t you agree?”
Lyn Tessar, beautiful girl of sixteen, medium brown hair flowing in the wind, nodded in agreement. “Of course, I’m with you after all.” Reeve smiled, nodding, he walked over to the bench. The park was always calm at this time of night, though they weren’t precisely allowed here, they came anyway. In their mind, the simplicity and beauty of the full moon glancing off of the waters edge was just too alluring. Reeve looked at a rock, manipulated it with his mind for a moment, and skipped it along the water, Lyn giggled. “Bored?”
“Yeah, not the same with things being so quiet…” He said reminiscently, staring at the water and the light of the moon dancing along the calm, serene waves. Hearing Lyn sigh heavily next to him, she spoke with an almost scolding tone, “Reeve, you never seem to be happy unless you’re being shot at,” She said with a glare at him, he chuckled. “It’s not my fault…”
“What makes you say that?”
“Well,” He started hesitantly, “That’s when things were clearly defined.” Lyn sighed, also staring at the water now, she put her head on his shoulder, and he moved his arm to wrap around her lovingly. After what seemed like minutes of quiet, Lyn finally spoke, her eyes never leaving the horizon. “Don’t you remember when things were simple?” Reeve sighed tiredly, “How could I ever forget those days? Though, they seem so lost now.” He looked tired to match, stressed. Like nothing would ever be the same.
Together, the two lovers stared into the water, at the moon’s daunting reflection. Both of them were remembering the days of simplicity. The days when their lives had changed forever…


Chapter 1: “Hey, we should do this more often!”


“And this is what happens to bad little pets…” The man said, staring at Reeve. He smiled though, holding the syringe as lovingly as if it was his own child. Reeve would have bunched up into a ball if he could. He was scared, the man coming closer, but the leather binds that tied him onto the slab made him feel like nothing more than a lab rat. The man came close to him, his cold ice eyes glazed over the young fourteen year old. “So, will you run again?”
“Fuck you,” Reeve replied, staring back at him with defiance, though fear was ever present in his mind. It was a morale trick he’d been taught by his old friend, Seth Carr, lord knew where the boy was now. Ever since their first large adventure together, they’d broken contact. The man smiled, “Tsk, tsk, tsk,” wagging his finger back and forth like an amused grandmother, he chuckled coldly. “That’s not how you talk to your elders.” Reeve smiled crudely, “And this isn’t how you treat a child,” He said, the man, who was thinking of doing something else, decided to change his mind.
“Oh, how wrong you are,” He said simply. Plunging the syringe into Reeve’s arm, Reeve winced in pain, “This is exactly how one treats a child.” Laughing to himself amusedly, he heard classical music start playing throughout the dimly lit metal room. The man sighed heavily, and after a moment took the syringe out. Putting it on a tray, he was cleaning a scalpel when he spoke aloud to the room around him. “Dimitri, why do you enjoy that filth?” He asked a cruel laugh was his response. Coming up next to him was a man dressed in complete black, fiery red hair draped down just above his shoulders, “Marvrak, you really should be more cultural,” The man in the business suit, Marvrak, laughed coldly, “I’m about as cultural as a man in his sixties living in the year two thousand and one.”
“You always loved the day 9/11 happened,” The fiery haired man, Dimitri, mused “Be less cynical, will you?” Reeve was enjoying the distraction, though he didn’t know why Dimitri wanted Marvrak to be distracted though. “Marvrak, Tempest wants you in the meeting room; we have some new blood he wants you to check out.”
“God sakes, when will that man leave me alone,” Dimitri just stared at Marvrak, “When you lose your worth, now get out, my… Friends, want to have their own fun with the boy.”
Friends, this guy has friends? Reeve thought, clearly amused by his own sarcasm, since he chuckled for a moment, as soon as he did though, Marvrak turned from Dimitri and hit Reeve across the face. Dimitri glowered at Marvrak, “Move along, Marvrak, the kid can’t fight back.”
“True…” Marvrak smiled, “And that’s the fun of it.” As Dimitri spoke, in the background was Reeve again cursing Marvrak, “Just go along and look at the new blood. I’m coming too meantime, let’s let the misfits have their fun.” The two men walked out with a brisk stride, as they did, two more people came in. One, a male, medium brown hair, pale skin, wearing brown and black garbs, his emerald eyes looked like fields of death. The female was the second she too wore black, long snow white hair with a white devil like tail behind her. Christ, Reeve thought, not them. Her red eyes pierced through Reeve’s form, and Reeve suddenly remembered the two clearly.
Thomas and Sarine, the duo from the deepest pits of hell, the two of them were famous for being not only the most intimidating but the most child-like interrogators and torturers throughout the secret underworld of the famous Lebensync PMC Research Company. “Oh, Marvrak didn’t take very good care of you, did he, sweetie?” Sarine asked, her hand was sickeningly soft against Reeve’s cheek. Reeve chuckled, “Nah, but I bet you’re here to take good care of me, aren’t cha, Coco?” Though Sarine didn’t know exactly what Reeve meant, she knew it wasn’t meant to be very nice. She smiled cruelly and simply hit him across the face. Reeve cursed under his breath, “What was that?” She asked, staring at him, Reeve shrugged as best as he could. “Nothing at all, stupid bitch,” Even if he mumbled the last two words, she hit him again. “You should be nice. I control how much pain you go through,”
Laughter from somewhere unseen. Thomas, creeping out from the shadows, smiled. “Dear, be nice to the poor boy. Lord knows he’s suffered enough,”
“But, Thomas—”
“No buts, Sarine.” Thomas said, sounding playful, almost like a child. In his own mind, his voice was also reminiscent of a deranged, maniacal jester; Reeve always called him ‘Joker’ (Batman, get over it). The best way to describe Thomas was that he loved to torture people. Though, he didn’t do it to torture them physically; he did it to see their reaction. He loved to crush people’s minds into their most basic, animal form, wanting to see them beg for death. For him, it seemed, everything was a mind game.
Sarine was different, but not by much. She preferred to see people in physical pain. If Reeve had to guess, neither of them had ever had parents, and when they had found each other, it was a match made in heaven.
Or, in their case, a match made in hell.
Reeve didn’t know whether to be sick or glad for the two. If he had to place their relationship, he’d say they were going at it like rabbits when no one was around. At the thought, he had to bite down on his tongue to stop himself from laughing. With Dimitri and Marvrak, he’d get slapped around a bit and insulted. But with these two, he’d soon beg for death if he didn’t keep a straight face on. He knew that by now.
Thomas smiled at Reeve as he came near him with a scalpel, “Boy, I was told you were a little religious, am I right?” Reeve looked at him quizzically, “No, I’m an Agnostic.” Sarine looked at Reeve as if he had three heads. “Then why do you wear that cross necklace?”
“Is that a trick question?” He asked, but he could see they were actually interested in him. What did they want with him? “I wear it to help me along, it gives me something.” Sarine, looking very curious, crept near him. Thomas’s scalpel hand was close to Reeve’s chest. Sarine lightly put his arm away from Reeve. “And what does it give you?” She asked gently, Reeve stared at her. “Hope.” He said simply, Sarine suddenly burst out laughing, Thomas was only chuckling. “Boy,” She said, sneering at him, “You lost hope a long time ago.” And with that said, the two closed in on him.
Suddenly, Reeve thought, he wanted nothing more than to die. At least then, the pain would stop.

In a cold sweat, Reeve sat bolt upright, staring around his bedroom. “What the…?” He asked himself, and got out of his bed. Checking his mirror, “God damn it,” He said, his reflection made him look pale. He was clearly afraid, and had been sweating a lot during his sleep. “Just another dream,” The teenager couldn’t help but feel relief. Sitting on his bed, he stared out his window. It was still dark so it was probably about three a.m. “I think I need to clear my head a bit.” He said to himself. Getting dressed in a simple t-shirt and zip-up hoodie, he crept downstairs. Careful not to wake his godfather, he got himself a drink of carbonated water. It was his version of beer, in his words. It helped him.
Though, he had to admit, sometimes, just sometimes he wanted more than that. The help from simple, non-toxic things would only help so much. “God damn,” He said again. His own voice, but more clever, sly, seemed to answer him, “Reeve, you need to take a break.”
“How can I?” He asked, his Half, Nightmare, answered him calmly, “Just relax for once maybe take a walk, or something.” Reeve nodded, got his messenger bag which always held a blanket, and walked out side. The night was cold, brisk, but still nice with sweet summer air.
To everyone who wasn’t his godfather or his closest friends, Reeve was a simple teenage boy. Nothing odd about him except for his strange tastes, and in everyone’s mind, he went to a private school. This was not true. Reeve actually had once attended a ‘Psionic School’ run by the Government secretly. The school took in untrained psychic children who could be dangerous if not taken in. How they got these kids, Reeve didn’t know. He was simply lucky, because his godfather had taught chlorokinesis (the ability over plant life), at the school.
The school itself was located on an island about seven miles from Hawaii. Nobody knew about the school, because everyone thought that it was a secret military base. Even though summer had just started, it was still burned into Reeve’s mind. All the adventures he’d had there. He smiled.
Nightmare, however, was something he’d picked up from one of his adventures in the school. Though, Nightmare was actually the product of a PMC company, who made illegal experiments on Reeve after kidnapping him. Nightmare was like a spirit living inside of Reeve. They could talk to each other mentally and verbally, they had different but similar looks. They had different personalities and they could even ‘switch’ control over the body. The odd thing was, if Reeve was injured, and let Nightmare take control there was a cloud of black smoke that would envelope Reeve’s form. Out of the smoke would be the black cloaked, pale figure of Nightmare. And to make things even weirder the figure would not be injured, like his ‘creator’ was.
He had to admit, though Nightmare drove him crazy sometimes (and sometimes Reeve felt he was crazy), Nightmare was also his escape from loneliness. “So,” He said to his Half, “How was your sleep?”
“I don’t sleep. I simply meditate.” Was the response, Reeve chuckled, “I wish I was you,”
“No, you don’t.”
“Why?” Reeve was clearly curious; his Half was always teaching him new things. “Because, I watch any dream you have while you sleep. I don’t have much of a choice. Some of the things you dream may be entertaining to you, but to me, they’re nothing short of disturbing.” There was something else about Nightmare, he spoke differently than Reeve. While Reeve was short and straight to the point, Nightmare carried things on. He assumed Nightmare was trying to sound educated. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t, Ces la vie. He thought, shrugging. “I’m a teenager,” He said, “Let me enjoy my sex dreams as I see fit.”
“Oh, God,” Nightmare said, clearly disgusted by the thought. Reeve just smiled, walking towards the end of the long stretch of a street. He was approaching a forest, but he was also passing by a place a lot of people thought was haunted.
The lights were always off, and the doors were always locked. The entire mansion seemed to be very unkempt. Vines grew along the walls, paint chipped off. The car in the driveway was extremely rusted. The doors were almost wrecked. Oddly, the windows seemed fine, greasy, but, fine. The blinds were always closed. It seemed whoever lived in this place, they either checked out or they just didn’t like what was going on in their life and didn’t bother to even try anymore.
Reeve sighed, he actually felt bad for whoever lived there. But he smiled soon enough there was a girl far up ahead of him entering the forest. He hadn’t flirted in a long time, but she was far from unattractive, he was single, it was three a.m., and what else was there to do this summer? He hadn’t dated in a long time anyways.
May as well try and get back in the game.

The boy was young. He wouldn’t cause any problems. And the girl had just entered the forest. No doubt she was going deep into the forest where the clearings were. Well, he had been paid. And he didn’t know the girl, so, he may as well just get to work. He picked up the telephone next to him, and dialed. His eyes were much more suited to the dark than others by now. He smiled coldly as his employer picked up the phone. “Yes?” The reply his employer got was that of a crisp, Americanized, English accent, “November,” He said, “The girl’s just moved into the forest near my home.” There was a pause on the other line. “Thank you, November. The money will be in your account soon.”
“Money’s the least of my troubles,”
“I’m sure.” Was his employers reply. “Good night, November.”
“Good night, Dimitri.” Hanging up the phone, the man, November, looked back out the window. For some reason, he felt a little guilty. Oh well, it would soon pass. Wrapping his fingers around a flask of whiskey, he sipped it leisurely, following the young boy with his eyes. He knew the girl would be gone by tonight, the boy… Well, if he got in the way, he may die. That wasn’t his problem.
For some reason, though, he felt as if the boy didn’t have to die. Sighing heavily, he picked up an apple on his desk, tossed it into the air, caught it and dialed the number again. He put it on speaker phone as he crunched on the apple. “What is it, November?” This was the grainy reply the phone gave him but it was not Dimitri on the phone this time. “A boy just headed into the forest as well. Has Dimitri left?”
“He’s getting prepared,” November thought for a moment at this piece of news. “Get to the point,” November stayed silent. “Don’t hurt the boy.” He finally said. Innocents didn’t have to be hurt. “And don’t hurt the girl if at all possible.” There was childish laughter, November flared up immediately, “I mean it, Thomas!” He said angrily. Laughter was his only reply. After a short pause, the laughter continued for a second. “I’m sorry, Fawkes, but that can’t be done.” Cutting the connection, Fawkes- Known to those who hired him as November –stalked out of the small office in his large home. He was the owner of the ‘haunted’ mansion in the town. He’d lived there only a couple of years in his mind, but for everyone else, he was there as long as anyone could remember.
He maneuvered perfectly through the darkness of his house. To him, it was as if the lights were on. His night vision could give a cat a run for its money, since he was so used to the darkness. Walking to a door, he took out a key and unlocked it. Inside the room, it was an armoury. Weapons from as far back as anyone would remember, all the way to present day. No doubt it cost a lot of money. But that was never a problem for him.
Walking over to a special glass case, he took an old MK VI Revolver, and a rapier sword. Looking at the gun, he smiled, “Ah, Fife… You never seem to look old.” Spinning it, he put it in a chest holster, and hid it in his coat. A black 18th Century English long coat with white sleeve rims. He put the rapier on his belt, and walked out the door, locking it before he did.
As he got to the front door of the mansion, he took a deep breath.
Remember, Fawkes, don’t injure when you can talk. Don’t kill when you can injure.
With that burning in his mind, he took another deep breath, and walked out of his house. If his employers weren’t going to leave the boy alone, he’d make them. He was loyal to those he worked with, but kids were a large exception. The boy was also an innocent. That in mind, he’d protect that boy.
If only for tonight.