8 - Execution

[The Waffle King]

A man sat at the edge of the old section of Midgar. His back resting against a bombed out building, his legs sprawled out on the sidewalk. He wore a dirty, dark green hooded sweatshirt. The hood pulled over his head to hide his face. Over that he had a battered tan overcoat, his hands placed deeply into it's pockets. He had been sitting there for a day now, but no one had realley noticed. The few people that ventured that close to the derelict sector on foot had seen this sort of thing before, it wasn't new to them. One or two people had thrown some coins at his feet, but most just cursed or ignored him. His head shifted slightly. It was almost the end of the work day, the busiest time in the city. Without saying a word he pulled his legs back under him, lifted himself up, and began a slow walk deeper into the heart of the city, leaving the coins behind.

He weaved through the crowded sidewalks of the city easily, always staying close to the walls. He was one with the crowd. No one gave his presence a second thought, even with the ragged clothing. Rush hour was in full swing now, everyone was heading home to have dinner or see their family. He was almost there. But something caught his attention, two police officers were headed in his direction. They were on foot and, even though they were talking to each other, were still on patrol. The man turned into his intended alley way and continued to watch the officers. They strolled past without even a glance. He smirked as he made his way down the alley, right next to a large theater. He reached the back and spotted a set of rusted stairs leading to the roof of the cinema. The back area itself was empty and damp, surrounded by the windowless walls of other aging buildings. Trash littered the ground and the only other way to this place was via an “employees only” door from the theater itself. People rarely had to come out here. He had reached his target.

The man checked behind him again to make sure no one had followed him, luckily he was safe in the shadows of the back lot. Two grotesque hands removed themselves from their pockets and slid back the dark green hood, revealing the faceless murderer. A thin, black tongue momentarily slid out tasted the air as Valtiel swiveled his head around and cracked his neck. “The perfect camouflage for the urban jungle.” He thought to himself. He plodded up the old stairway to the roof of the theater, the stairs creaking under his weight but holding fast. The roof was gray and barren, only populated by a large air conditioning unit and two massive spot lights there were only used to highlight the biggest attractions. He walked over to one of the spotlights and crouched down beside it. Valtiel placed a hand over his oddly placed mouth and started gagging, a glistening hunk of smooth flesh forced its way out of his head and into his grasp. It pulsed and writhed in his hand, it was alive. He placed this at the base of the light and immediately stood up and walked back towards the stairs. “So it begins,” he thought as he pulled the hood over his face again, exited the alley, and continued on.

[The Waffle King]

Valtiel sat slumped over by some garbage, an empty bottle in gripped in his mitten covered hand, still clad in his disguise. He had been wandering the alleys around the hospital for some time now, watching and waiting for the chance of a clean ascent. Night had fallen and the hospital was quiet. Dropping the bottle, he pulled himself to his feet and crept towards the tall building. He approached the hospital from the back, his presence covered by the buildings around it.

He first needed to pass the tall chain link fence barricading himself, and the public, from the small garden in back. The moment he reached the fence, Valtiel latched onto the chain link wall with his hand and feet and began to climb. His movements were barely slowed, the ragged form sliding up along the fence. His hands reached the top and gripped the upper bar, but his feet kept going. His hands being the only thing connecting him and the fence, he hoisted his legs and torso up and around the top of the fence and placed his toes into the fence on the other side, almost creating a perfect loop with his body. His hands let go of the fence and let the rest of himself pass over the fence again. He once again gripped the fence with his hands, now climbing down head first. He reached the bottom and crept across the dimly light garden, but vacant garden on all fours.

He stood up as he reached the back of the hospital and looked up. This ascent could be far less stealthy. He placed a foot on the wall and began to walk upwards calmly. He needed no warinesses for this climb, for he would be passing the windows in the psych wards. As he walked across the windows, most of the patients were sleeping. Only a few saw him, most were looks of terror or confusion, followed by screaming and struggling to free themselves of the restraints on the beds. Valtiel simply smiled to himself and continued his stroll to the roof.

He reached the top and looked around. There was a single door leading up to the roof from the interior, and a helipad surrounded by four spot lights. He put his hand over his mouth and hacked up another lump. But instead he placed this one back behind the shack like structure covering the entrance rather than on the light itself. Being satisfied with his work here, he headed back to the edge of the roof. Since orderlies would surely be in the rooms by now, he had to make the decent a bit quicker. He stepped up the the edge and looked down. The garden was still empty, a perfect landing point. He calmly put his hands in his pockets and allowed himself to tip off the edge. He did a single, slow turn in the air; hands still firmly placed in his pockets, and landed quietly on his toes. He walked across the garden again, hopped the fence, and disappeared into the darkened alleyways again. Preparations were coming along nicely.

[ZaCloud]

(OOC: This chapter, done by myself and Waffles (he also did the editing, thanks man!), took us almost exactly 3 and-a-half hours! We had to word everything just right, and take a lot of time to think of what to do next, both of us in as much suspense as our characters were! XD (in OOC chat, he observed we definitely broke the record for the amount of XD smilies used!) We really hope you enjoy reading this even a fraction as much as we enjoyed writing it; we were screaming with thrills! XD ENJOY!!!! )

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As he walked past several alleyways, Zack found his steps beginning to slow down. His knees were beginning to feel slightly weak. He felt puzzled. It had been a big night, but he hadn't expected to feel sleepy already.

But he realized he didn't. In fact, he felt his heart beginning to pound faster and harder in his chest. He put a hand over it, eyes wide and worried. He slowed down even more, almost feeling as if he shouldn't go any further. But by the time he saw why, it was too late to avert his path.

Just to his left, he saw a figure sitting against a building wall. At a glance, it was only a bum, perhaps napping, perhaps stewing in his woe. But Zack could feel the back of his neck prickling, and his knees actually began to shake. He knew this feeling. He knew this familiar, sinking, sickening feeling. The aura of this person - no, this monster - was deathly powerful and had indeed wrought death and horror. Had threatened his friends, was too strong even for them to think lightly of going against. Zack stood frozen, trembling slightly, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights.

Maybe... Maybe if I don't move.... maybe he's sleeping... maybe if I back up really slowly, he won't know I was here... He took a very slow, very quiet step back, eyes never leaving the figure... of Valtiel.

Valtiel hadn't even noticed Zack's approach, he had his attention focused elsewhere. But now, it was all directed at the boy. This was not good. Finding one of them on the street was the last thing he wanted to happen now. Valtiel froze up just as much has he was, he wasn't sure what do to. He couldn't kill him, that would just bring down the wrath of the others. Causing ripples in the pond is bad, he had to keep any negative attention to a minimum, because those ripples would find their way back to him. He'd have to play the calm and submissive role for a while. Valtiel shifted a little bit and slowly raised his hands above his head. An almost playful tone covered his voice. "looks like you caught me, copper."

Zack's eyes widened still further somehow. He had been discovered. He almost felt compelled to turn freeze into flight... but then he realized something.

He's unarmed!

Fight instinct kicked in instead, along with Zack's battle-ready facet. As his eyes darkened and narrowed, his hand flicked back and snapped forward again, bringing Fjalar to the forefront and taking on a solid stance with the blade forward, Azriel's cape flying outward with the motion.

The young man knew he should say something. Should do something more. Attack now? Wait for Valtiel to make a move? Once more, indecision kept him silent and still.

Crap, he wanted to fight. Valtiel wished the kid would have just run, but no, he had to go and make it more complicated. He got up slowly, not making any sudden movements as to avoid setting off his unexpected company. "...There won't be any need for that tonight."

Zack remained firm in his stance, nervous despite his usually confident version's place at the helm. "...What... Don't like being at the opposite end of a blade?" He wished he hadn't said that, yet it was done. He flexed his hands a bit, tightening his grip, jaw set hard.

Valtiel chuckled slightly. "Oh no, in fact I enjoy it quite a bit. I'm just in no mood for it right now. Anyways, can't you tell I'm rather down on my luck?" He laughed again. Valtiel would keep up the non-combative play as long as he could, hoping that this encounter would not end in bloodshed.

The blonde felt very confused. How could Valtiel possibly be "down on his luck"? Why would he not feel like fighting? Could Zack actually defeat him right now? Or was this some kind of trick to lure him in and lead to his demise? He wished the others were here... To offer advice, to help fight, or at very least bear witness should he die at this creature's hands.

What would they want him to do?

They'd want me to live... I'd be better off retreating... But what if this is the only chance to get rid of this guy? I'd be letting them down if I ran away... But if I were to try, and get killed, they'd be stuck not knowing for a long time, then finding out... Zack's eyes squeezed shut for a moment, teeth bared as the indecision became downright painful. Too crazy for him. In fact, this caused his previous persona to arise again, his eyes now opening wider again, expression nervous. "What do you mean? What's up with you? How does an inhuman killer with your kind of mojo possibly have a bad day?"

A more serious tone overcame Valtiel. "I'm just busy right now, too busy to deal with you or anyone else. Now, I'll ask you to leave me be." He hoped that didn't come out too threatening, the situation was becoming too delicate.

Zack's breath caught. It was definitely an opening to leave. It was utterly shocking, though, that Valtiel would actually want to avoid conflict. Then again, perhaps there was more to him than what little Zack had known. Regardless, he was being given a very easy exit.

But... WHY? What could he be doing... What if it's a huge plot that could destroy all of us? He does carry that Dark Phoenix, doesn't he? I can't let him finish that! But... would I have a chance, even like this? I should get Bax and Prodigi... But what if we never can find this guy again till it's too late?

Zack exhaled and turned Fjalar slowly sideways then downward while raising his arms, and he let the tip bury itself an inch into the pavement. His grip remaining on its hilt, much of his body obscured by the now vertical sword, his eyes remaining on Valtiel, full of questions yet determination. The unspoken words seemed clear even through the darkness: I'm going to stand right here. What will you do?

Valtiel was getting annoyed with him, he just wouldn't go away. His firsts clenched in his ragged mittens, there were very few choises left. He took a deep breath and slowly let it out, causing his hood to ripple in an unnatural way. His hands loosened and mind calmed, Valtiel turned his back on Zack. He began a slow walk deeper into the alleyway. He traveled about 30 feet and stopped to look back at Zack. He then sat down again behind a trash can, obscuring the boy's view of him. Your move, kid.

For a moment, Zack remained where he was, his narrowed, cold eyes never having left Valtiel. With them still locked on, he raised his arms quickly, jerking his sword from the stone. He crossed several squares of concrete, covering half the distance, before planting his sword once more, two sidewalk-cracks away. A pawn, pursuing the King, it seemed...

Valtiel sighed and stood up again. "You just won't quit, will you. Let's see just how confident you really are." He turned towards Zack, pulled off his camouflage, and tossed it to the side. His hideous from now revealed, he began a slow walk to his pursuer. "If you will not leave willingly, I will make you leave."

Zack's tension once more transcended into shaking, his muscles barely able to stand such rigidity and screaming to do something, anything. Fight! Run! Something! He was provoking Valtiel by the simple act of standing still. If he was going to attack him, he should have done it before, or should do it now, before the hulking creep went on the offensive.

And yet, he would not likely have a chance, would be throwing his life away, would become an anonymous smear for people to step around with disgusted expressions.

But I can't just let him go... I can't let them down... He remained in his posture, eyes still narrowed voice firm but quiet. "What are you up to? What is so daunting that even a little insect like me is of concern and would take effort to dispose of?"

Valtiel's mind twinged at Zack's comment. The kid was mocking him, trying to back him into a corner. The Pawn defeating the King, how ridiculous, it was time for the King to stop running. Valtiel suddenly picked up his pace and rocketed towards Zack. Before the boy could react, Valtiel slammed his left hand down on handled of the sword, keeping it firmly stuck in the ground. His right hand gripped the collar of his shirt and pulled Zack's face only inches away from his own. Valtiel was rather upset, he screamed into Zack's mind. "What am I up to? What am I planning?! I plan on murdering you and everyone you've ever known! And right now, you're distracting me. This is your last chance; leave now and live a little longer, or stay and witness half of this city's destruction before sunrise!" The lights in the alley flickered for a moment. Valtiel pushed Zack away and let go of his sword. He stared at the boy for a moment, the pointed a finger towards the street.

Zack stumbled back, his grip at first sliding away from Fjalar's hilt but catching just in time to pull the sword from the pavement. His eyes were round as saucers and his breath heaved quickly in and out. The decision had been made for him; Valtiel knew that if Zack did not fear much for himself, that he would fear for others, and so made a threat against the city. Even though Valtiel could do that at any time, actively provoking such was certainly not anywhere on the boy's list. He had no choice but to leave.

And having felt the cold, fleshy grip and felt the humming rage of the monster before him, Zack now found that a very, very easy decision to make.

He turned tail and ran like mad, sheathing Fjalar on his back for better speed, his breath intermittently gasping with a hint of his voice, eyes wide, but teeth bared. Damn it... Damn it! DAMN IT!!! He HAD to find the others. He had to tell them where Valtiel was. But damn it, he could have been killed. Part of him was tempted to just curl up and hide. But all the rest was determined to stop him, now more than ever.

Valtiel watched his retreat. and waited until he was well out of sight. He relaxed and let out a heavy sigh, this was not the outcome he was hoping for. He gathered and equipped his disguise, this place wasn't safe anymore. He had to finish before anything else was discovered. Valtiel retreated into the alleyways once more, hoping the rest of his would would proceed more smoothly.

[The Waffle King]

(continued from chapter 14 - Confrontation)

Valtiel strolled away from the gymnasium, sword still slung over his shoulder, content after putting the fear of death into the new soul. He paused mid-stride and slowly looked down at his camoflage. It was now spattered with little droplets of blood and a large streak near the bottom. His shoulders drooped. "....just great." He lifted his weapon off his frame and jammed it into the ground as he examined his cloths more closely. After a moment or two he let out a discontented sigh, pulled up the hood, stuffed his hands into the pockets, and trudged on. "At least this is almost over with..." As he rounded a corner and left view, his blade remained only for a moment. It quickly flaked into a gray ash and was carried off by an unseen wind.

Valtiel stopped short of the street as he heard police sirens gaining volume. A speeding car blazed passed, followed by two police cruisers. The was a growing silence as the cars sped off, but was interrupted by the sound of a police chopper following in tow. He grinned inwardly as a plot formed inside his mind. He heard the screech of tires in the distance, and took off into a sprint.

Valtiel: "Wake up, little one. Daddy needs you one more time."

The panicked man in the speeding car gripped the wheel as tightly as he could, hoping that his vehicle would hold out for just a little longer. The only thing on his mind was the task at hand, not the freight train of flesh rocketing at him from underground. He slid around another corner and headed for a long straightaway. He looked back to see if he had lost the cops, not seeing the pavement ahead rise up and crack as the giant worm came within feet of surfacing. The tires slammed into the small cliff that had formed on the road, severely damaging the front end of his car. The man spun out of control and careened into the side of a building.

Valtiel crouched at the edge of the same building, watching as the police vehicles caught up with the wreck. He saw the chopper approach and braced himself. It started to circle around the crash, just above the roof line, like a giant mechanical vulture. They watched from above as the officers moved in and pulled a only minorly injured man out of the broken car. He was cuffed, escorted back to the squad car, and the processing was under way. Emergency medical vehicles arrived on the scene. Small fires were put out, injuries attended to, and questions asked. As aerial surveilance was no longer necessary, the pilot was ordered back to the station. The chopper turned tail and headed back home.

After a lengthy flight cross city, the chopper finally reached its destination. It hovered over the police station's helipad as spotlights lit its landing zone. It's ski-like landing gear gently touched down and the engine was cut. The rotors slowed and finally came to a stop as the pilot preformed post-flight checks. Satisfied with the condition of his craft, he opened the cockpit door, hopped out, and made his way into the station via the roof door. The pad was quiet and empty, so quite one could hear the engine cooling down. The silence was broken by thump as Valtiel released the bottom of the chopper's body and hit the tarmac. He rolled out from under the chopper, picked himself up, and straightened out his cloths. "Hmmmm, I should do this more often." He wandered around the roof until he found a suitably trafficked location and proceeded to regurgitate yet another lump from his body. He placed it back behind the air conditioning units and exhaust vents for the air system in the building. Before Valtiel could even stand up again, the door to the roof was flung open and a pair of cops strolled onto the roof. Both of them began taking out cigarettes and lighters. They turned towards the conditioning units and walked towards the area as they discussed and complained about the events of the day. They passed between the humming machines, one of their feet falling within inches of the lump hidden away in darkness, but remaining undetected. They continued to the edge of the building. Out of the corner of his eye, one of the two officers catches something. He stops his partner and points him towards a vent grating lying on the roof. A concerned look wipes across his face as he approaches the open vent. He cautiously raises himself up to peer through the hole, but is stopped by a hand on his shoulder. His partner with a half grin on his face.

Officer: "Hey man, don't worry about it. Those damn things are fallin' off all the time."

The other officer smiles and they both continue to the edge of the building. Time moves on, smokes are had, and conversation passes between the two men. One of them looks at his watch. His eyes widen and lets out a grunt.

Officer: "Shit, we gotta get goin'. Spent too much time up here."

Just as they are about to leave, a vent two stories down pops off the side of the building. They glance down, then back at each other.

Officer: "...Told ya."

They turn and hurry back inside, not seeing the cause of the vent's motion.

An open 1' by 5'' hole was now exposed on the building, open but not empty. A disfigured arm stretched out of the shaft and placed its palm on the brick siding. Muffled cracking sounds could be heard as Valtiel next forced his head out of the small space. Followed by a foot and leg. The cracking turned to crunching as he contorted his way out of the small vent in one smooth motion, his body twisting and bending in ways that would seem unnatural. All four limbs now placed on the wall, he sucking in a deep breath of air, popping his ribcage back into a normal state. He stuck there for a moment while regaining the feeling in his limbs, the material of his overcoat hanging off him like a set of grimy wings. "...maybe I shouldn't be doing this more often..." He released his grip on the wall and fell silently into the alleyway.

The alley was silent and barren, not a single soul existed in that place. The peace was broken by a faint, raspy chuckle reverberating back through the corridor. The only audience to it being a blood smattered set of cloths folded neatly on top of a trash can.

(mmmm, delicious visual reference: www.youtube.com/watch?v=HrtJElkAYAA)