He lay there in the darkness, grave,
As hollow as the limestone cave,
Of which he laid a solemn save,
His love is lost, his mind a rave.
He sat there at the mouth of the cave, looking over into the distance. All that could be seen was forest and mountain. A city just to the south. His hair drooped over his eyes, shading those once blue crystals – now a vacant shade of grey. He sat with his knees pulled to himself. No clothes. No blades. No nothing. Only the sound of increasing footsteps peaked his interest and even they barely made his ears twitch. The footsteps stopped a few feet away, the two beings stood there in an awkward stupor.
“Come with me son. We’ll take you in.” It called out. A man of a beige trench coat and matching hat and shoes held out a black leathered glove. Rxon said nothing and stared forward; on into the bleak gloomy drizzle of the British weather. The man, after a few seconds, shrugged and started to walk away. “Fair enough” He said bluntly, stopping just at the mouth of the cave and looking back once more. Rxon was behind him, covering his manhood and still looking down. The man smiled lightly and continued to walk, Rxon in pursuit.
It was a few hours’ drive until they reached a large building just on the outskirts of London. The man tossed a hooded cloak at Rxon and some pants – which he put on in a flash before saying “Put these on and follow me.” He spoke softly. They drove in the gates and through an underground car park. Getting out, the pair of them were inspected by guards before being waved into a large door with a long white corridor. At the end of said corridor was a door, a chair and a table.
The man told Rxon to sit in the chair – which he did without sound – still keeping his hair covered gaze to the floor. He went into a door then a few minutes passed. Another man came out shortly after, an average sized jackal with an impressive build that pulled up a chair from the side and sat across the table from Rxon. “Name.” He asked, looking down at a sizeable file in front of him. Rxon said nothing. “Name.” The Jackal repeated – louder this time with less patience in his voice. Looking up a little from the file annoyed, up at Rxon’s ebony hair covered face. Rxon didn’t move.
The man quickly snapped a gun from his waist and pointed it an inch from Rxon’s face – “Name.” He repeated once more. Rxon leaned forward and pushed the barrel against his forehead. The Jackal cocked the hammer and pushed it forward. 6 guards with assault rifles surrounded the two with scopes pointed to Rxon’s head. “I’m going to knock this out of your hand. Guard #2 is going to fire at my leg. The bullet will ricochet from the leg of this table and hit Guard #4 who will fire along with the rest of them. I’ll get behind you as every single bullet embeds in your chest. So put it down. And I’ll think about pulling out the bullets.”
The jackal chuckled. “Oh real-“ Within barely half a second the gun the jackal held was flung across the room as Guard #2 acted out what had been foretold. Then, one by one, every single action the lombax had predicted was executed with alarming precision. Leaving Rxon stood behind a Jackal with 5 bullet holes in his chest and quivering with fear.
“There’s a good boy…” Rxon said darkly as he put a hand on the jackal’s chest from behind and growled, pulling his hand away. The bullets fired from his chest and landed with clinks on the floor; the holes healing as the jackal fell to the floor, Rxon casually walking back to his seat and positioning himself as he did before. The jackal sat there in the floor panting and clutching his chest before pulling himself onto the chair once more. The guards had lowered their weapons as a slow, gradually increasing clap was heard from the door.
“Well, well, well. So the legends were true then?”