Chapter 5 - The Midnight Stone

He studied the old fire door, picking bits of climbing ivy off the area where the latch would be. It was well hidden and neglected; no one would see him entering. With his regular clothes tucked away in his tattered pack, which itself was hidden beneath the bushes that secluded the old fire door, he pulled out a long, thin piece of metal, perfect for slipping into one way doors and prying them open.
A squeek, a click and a pull as the piece of metal hooked onto the decaying wood of the door and it slowly opened, protesting at the movement.

A blackness thick like ink lingered on the other side. Mystikal swore quietly and pulled the goggles down over his eyes. They did what Jonas had said they would do; Illuminated the darkness.
Nothing was there, lurking in the shadows of the old concrete hallway. He crept in slowly, the icy, prickling feeling of someone watching him from behind creeping over his body, tormenting his senses. He hazarded a look behind him, seeing nothing. He lifted his goggles and outlined in the darkness, was an even blacker figure, the same one that he had seen so many times. Like everytime, it vanished when he blinked. Pulling his goggles back down, he stepped further into the darkness, peeking around the corner at the end, into a vast square room full of glass cabinets.

A ring of floor lights illuminated a square cabinet in the center, within it sat a dark purple gem, finely cut, on a silken cushion. He pulled out a small pray can and crept along the floor, the mist ailently erupting from it's spout laying across thin red beams stretched across the floor like a spider's web. He carefully stepped over them, tail raised, unwilling to disturb the beams, alert like a guard dog. He stopped a few inches away from the glass cabinet, barely breathing incase he set some unseen alarm off, and gently pressed his finger tips against the glass, cutting a hole in it, large enough for his paw.

The circle of glass fell out and he caught it in his other paw, proceeding to slide the other into the case, his fingers gently wrapping around the Stone. Alarms blared and foot steps echoed down the corridoor.
shoot! He thought and pulled his paw free. Pressure pad!
He swore bitterly and ran, tripping the beam alarms, not caring about their distressed screams. Shots echoed to him as he neared the old fire door and something hit him in the back, his vision blurring as searing pain shot through him, making him stumble. He regained his balance and carried on running, snatching his pack, disappearing into the streets of the city, hot stickywet crimson running down his back between the armour plating as he moved.

Don't stop. He thought wearily. ''Never stop!'' He growled out loud as he felt himself growing tired, quicker than usual. He'd outran the shouts and the alarms, the city night drowning out their anger and distress as he ignored his body's protests, the Midnight Stone tucked firmly into his paw, digging into his palm, drawing blood that spattered to the pavement below as he moved. The faceless Melbourn building came into view, it's shining toothless mouth gaping in a blank white expressionless face. Nearly there. Just keep running. He thought anxiously. He remembered his right foot touching the cold marble of the main reception and the dark shadow staring down at him, expectant.


''Lay still. Yer've been shot in th' back.'' Said a familiar voice.
''Ah h'ain't bin 'rested 'gen 'av ah...?'' He mumbled, his voice floating up from the pillows like a drunken man's burble.
''Nope. Never sin a man run so friggen quick in muh life.'' The voice now accompanied a name. Jonas, the scruffy western that reminded Mystikal so much of a spiv. He was a spiv.
''Th' Stone.'' He burbled again, his wings shaking slightly as he took a deep, gurgling breath.
''It's safe, Jin. Now hold still, I'm going to remove the bullet now.'' That was what he recognised as the CEO's voice, the man who had hired him in the first place, that calm, steady voice of a man who's spent years honing the perfect business tone.
Something cold touched the wound and he flinched, wings going rigid, claws wrapping tightly around the cushions he had his face buried in as the cold object was pushed deep into the wound, a smothered clicking sound as metal gripped metal.

The slim tongue was removed, a small bullet in it's rigid grip. Mystikal relaxed. He'd been shot at so many times, but only a few had hit him. He'd get used to the red hot pain, he once thought, but that thought occured over six years ago. He looked up through pain misted eyes, seeing the dark shadow looming over him again, waiting patiently as it always did, seemingly watching him, studying him.
''You'll live.'' Said the CEO.
''Whut 'appens now...?'' Mystikal burbled, reaverting his attention to the business suited grey western.
''You successfully retrieved the Stone, so you get your payment and also our protection. Assuming you want our protection?'' He said.

Mystikal hesitated. He'd heard about people like this, come across many people like this.
''Think ahm bet'roff sellin' muh soul t' th' Devil...'' He burbled quietly.
The CEO chuckled and crouched next to him, looking him dead in the eye.
''I don't deal like the other companies. You want to leave, that's fine. I won't send anyone after you to tear you apart. I like things clean. Once you leave, that's it. It'll be like you were never in our protection.'' He said evenly.
Mystikal thought, his eyes glazing, feeling heavy.
''Yu'll get muh serv'ces so long's yuh tell me 'ow yuh know muh name...'' He managed quietly, sinking back into the shrouded, smothering darkness.
''I don't think you're quite ready for that whole truth just yet.'' The CEO said and walked away from the passed out crossbreed that lay face down on the leather sofa in his office.

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