August 24, 2066
Sunday, 2:24 pm [Past]
There was absolutely no need for the opulent-designed hallway interior. Symbols of the corporation were embedded in the red curtains that hung from somewhere near the high ceiling. Windows followed ever so often between each curtain, allowing sunlight to blast through with its refreshing and radiant glow. Red-colored carpet covered the marble floor, which was layered on each of the seven floors of the complex. There was no hallway or room to walk into without seeing a guard, who dressed in black and red armor pieces, remained as still as the walls themselves, and only rose their hand to their forehead upon seeing someone of a higher stature.
Such scenery of military and fashion was already behind the masked man, who had turned away from the bright-red curtains, bathed in the warm sunlight which shone from the windows, and watched as each guard he passed raise their stiff hand right above their eyebrows.
The only scenery that mattered was the sight of the leader who'd greet him in yet another lavish room filled with unnecessary curtains and windows.
Make that two men. And add on some more ridiculous red-and-black-themed interior pieces. He could barely feel the warmth of the men's hands through his own gloved hands. Greetings. Introductions. How-Do-You-Do's. Then, jump right along to the sleep-bringing fabric seats and the hundred-dollar scotch. There was no seat for him. But he listened anyways:
"I know you just returned from Bolivia and you must be quite exhausted." The Head-Of-It-All said.
"And we must apologize for not offering you a seat or this delicious drink." The Know-It-All added.
"Yes, we are quite sorry for that. But we have good reason", The Head-Of-The-Snake continued, "You are to be immediately transported to California, near the former San Francisco area, otherwise known as the Reformed Land. There's a little town there that has been in our control for some time. Now, it's in the hands of a raider group, who sadly eliminated our men and took their gear. A-"
"Town thought it was enough, and they fought back when they allied with the raiders." The Geek-Who-Should-Shut-Up interrupted.
"Yes, yes." The God once again continued. "As I was saying, you are the only one that knows that town well, which in turn makes you the perfect one that can wipe out the townsfolk and raiders quietly without raising any attention from the nearby factions. That's all you have to do before sundown. Then you can return and have your reward and rest. There's already a gunship waiting outside."
The man nodded as he turned around sharply, and headed for the door, his black frock coat trailing behind him.
"Hold on a minute."
The man turned his head slightly, enough to see the black-beaked face mask which had a red stripe run down and cross one of the eyeholes.
"Be wary of the city of Oasis. You met your...enemy there. Send them a message." The Creator said.
The man grunted in acknowledgement, and tipped his red-laced and black colored tricorn hat at the two gentlemen. He adjusted his frock coat, allowing the sight of the inside of his coat, which was, what a surprise, red. A variety of bandoleers, straps, buttons, and gear rested on his armored person, and was soon again hidden by the guise of his coat as he stepped back into the past scene.
The Dominoes Fall
August 30, 2066
Saturday, 7:49 pm [Present]
Oasis [Capital City of the Feroxi Dominion]
No survivors. Blood everywhere. Decomposing bodies. Leaked footage. Turn your child away from the screen.
Lucas could see the headlines of the news channels now as he walks through the main boulevard of a once small yet bustling town. He isn't able to walk five feet without stepping over rubble, blood, and bodies.
He screams 'eleven' in his mind as he passes the eleventh corpse of a child. This one was a boy, no more than eight; still clutching onto his mummy's hand. Severed hand.
The FFT, or Feroxi Forensics Team, had determined that the massacre had occurred at least a week before. A runaway fugitive from Eloy Prison Center had arrived at the town, hoping to hitch a ride. He only lasted five feet before he vomited. A set of ripped-out eyes were gazing up at him as they rested peacefully on a mutilated and beheaded body. Feroxi Border Patrol picked him up soon after that, and found him begging to return to the safety of Eloy Prison Center. That was when Lucas stepped into the scene.
The smell was inconceivably disgusting. A regular gas mask would not last in the invisible fog of the corpse-smell. Lucas did not care for the smell. He had been here for several hours already, taking pictures of the murderer's actions, how he worked, and where could he have gone. So far, the location of their Jack the Ripper was unknown, but a trusted associate in the Feroxi Border Patrol notified Lucas of an interesting find.
The FBP associate leads him to the middle school, where they hastily walk down the freshly-painted corridors. The red was an interesting addition to the white walls of the hallways. Although it seemed that the painter was not finished with his work, and instead sloppily flicked his paintbrush against the walls, leaving a bloody mess.
No words are exchanged. What is there to say? They approach the gym. The painter was here. He seems to love red. They reach the back, where the stage is located. The FBP member points to a banner raised high and proud. It states:
"Recreating Our Diligence Level."
School assembly. Doesn't seem to be an interesting find. However, the painter left his mark there too. He traced a few of the letters in his popular color: blood red, making sure it spelled out something. It turned the banner into a masterpiece, and could only leave Lucas and soon-to-be-involved Sinis some thoughts:
"REcreating Our DiligenCE LeveL"
Something hangs above the banner. It was covered in red.