Prologue: what hell is going on.
September the 12th 2016, Washington DC, The United States of America.
The flickering flashes of countless snapping camera lights illuminated the platform on which Jeff Presley the 45th President of the United States of America stood. He stood tall and imposing against the backdrop of the White House with a stormy evening sky looming overhead.
His somewhat tired but still powerful blue eyes moved down slightly as he spoke to the masses beneath him. “Over the past two years a series of strange events have unfolded all over the world. As I’m sure you’re all aware, Saudi Arabia and the UAE have collapsed due to their leaders falling victim to the end time hysteria and simultaneously declaring war on each other, making these the 12th and 13th countries respectively to collapse in the past two years. I recognise that there may be many people who originate from these countries among us as well as people who have lost family members in the various conflicts. To them I offer both my condolences and my word that we will get to the bottom of this tragedy and root out the evils that caused the collapse of these two great nations.”
Among the crowd was a mosaic of facial expressions. Some sad and sorrowful, some angry, others indifferent and a few simply empty. Camera crews, photographers and news reporters payed no heed to the sentiments of the regular civilians that surrounded them as they mercilessly assaulted the president with questions and flashing camera lights.
From within the White House itself two figures approached one of the windows overlooking the president’s speech. Behind them over a dozen corpses were splayed on the floor in a massive pool of blood. One of the figures proceeded to sit along the interior window sill sideways with one leg partially resting along the window frame and the other swinging in the air. His rainbow eyes glowed ominously as he watched a scene of tragic comedy play out before him.
*bang*
The president felt something jolt through his upper body. Quickly he felt his chest and his expression darkened when he felt moisture. As he examined his hand he realised that blood stained all five of his fingers. Examining himself more closely, he discovered a bullet wound leaking fresh blood through his suit. Glancing around frantically at the bodyguards who were supposed to be protecting him, his somewhat nervous eyes were only met by uncanny and impossible to read expressions. The entire crowd became dead silent in shock before erupting into a panic. In such a perplexing moment even the paparazzi and news reporters forgot their jobs and duties.
*bang*
*bang*
*bang*
The very guards who were tasked with protecting the president opened fire on their own employer. The crowd once again became dead silent as the president’s body fell to the ground with a thud.
The president had been assassinated by none other than his own bodyguards.
*bang*
*bang*
*bang*
In a display of insanity seemingly designed to out do the president’s assassination, all of the bodyguards shot themselves in unison. The crowd scattered as people screamed in terror. Seemingly remembering their jobs, the news reporters and paparazzi immediately climbed on to the platform and swarmed the president’s bullet riddled corpse.
“Let’s get out of here.” said the second figure lurking some distance away from the first one who was still half seated along the window glancing down at the chaos. He stood up straight and continued to linger by the window for a few seconds before stepping over the corpses on the floor and joining his companion. With a single hand motion a distortion in space manifested before the two and they left abruptly.
Several hours later in Rome Italy.
In an ornately decorated room marched a tall and imposing woman dressed in Victorian style high class attire. Several elaborate earrings jingled and clacked together on her sharp pointed ears, her sharp dagger like slit pupils glowed with a hellish blaze in the middle of her scarlet irises.
“These renegade scum are getting way too uppity.” She sneered out through her razor sharp fangs.
“Francesca my dear. Please calm yourself down.” A solemn male voice spoke from within the mirror on her dresser.
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The woman twitches with anger as she stops and slowly turns to face the image in the mirror. Within it was the shadowy outline of a man surrounded by mist, a pair of blazing scarlet eyes similar to her own was its only defining characteristic. The woman simply scowled bitterly at the image before parting her blood red lips to rant further. “How can I calm down? Driving the leaders of a bunch of backwater countries insane is one thing, but now look at what they’ve done. Didn’t I warn them all? Didn’t I tell them that if they continued to ignore the threat renegades pose they’d eventually come to regret it? And now look at what the renegades have done, the mother fucking president of the United States has fallen as a result of their treachery.”
“Please my dear. In situations like these you must be calm and logical. Sure they’ve gone and killed the president under our noses. But the renegades are still far from a threat to us. If the president is dead then we simply replace him plaine and simple.” Said the image callously.
The woman squinted at the mirror before storming over to it and smashing it to pieces. “Rocco! ROCCO! Get in here right now!” She shouted in a fit of rage.
Several seconds later an old, fin and tall butler entered the room through a huge colourful door. He bowed his head respectfully before kissing her hand. The woman yanked it away immediately before speaking to him in a commanding tone.
“You must seek out renegade hunter Murdock. Tell him that Francesca Esposito sent you. He is to root out the individual or group responsible for this situation and exterminate them immediately. Tell him it’s a direct order from the Esposito family.”
“Yes Mrs Esposito.” Replied the butler obediently. He stands up straight and prepares to leave but is stopped suddenly by the woman. “Get me my food first before you leave.” She requested. The butler nods and continues on his way out.
Several minutes later the woman sat on the corner of the bed holding a handsome man in her arms. He groaned weakly as she bit into his neck and sucked his blood. Before long the man was drained completely and his body grew ice cold and limp. Satiated, she tosses him into the corner of the room like a piece of human-sized litter before walking on to her balcony for fresh air. “Renegade scum I’ll be sure to Hunt you all to extinction.” She sneered out as she glared out across the Italian landscape towards the towering mountains.
Around the same time in San Francisco, The United States of America.
Within a crowded maid cafe everyone stared at the television with bulging eyes.
“Grandmother! Grandmother! Come here and see this.” A girl cried out from within the crowd clustered around the television. Emerging from the kitchen came a middle aged woman with dreadlocks that hung to her ankles. Her name was Jiana Garcia the owner of this made Cafe.
“What is going on Beverly?” She said as she shoved her way past the crowd to reach her granddaughter who was pointing at the television.
“End time hysteria claims the life of the president.” Was the news headline.
The Jiana’s eyebrows curled into a v before she stormed off back towards the kitchen. She threw the door open with a scowl on her face before announcing this development to the rest of her grandchildren. “The mother fucking president is dead.”
Hearing her words caused all of the kitchen staff who were mostly her older grandchildren to go deathly quiet.
“Grandma you’re joking right?” Gloria the second oldest of Jiana’s grandchildren said, breaking the silence.
“Nope. It’s for real the president was shot to death by his own bodyguards.” Remerio Gloria’s older brother and Jiana’s oldest and most responsible grandchild said. He was a tall towering high school senior dressed as a chef who moved with a swan-like arrogance and indifference as he emerged from the walk-in fridge. In one hand he was browsing his phone and holding several pounds of frozen meat in the other.
“Do you know what this means.” Jiana frowned. “The vampire families will crack down on border dwellers and witches everywhere in the hopes of finding the renegades. We should all prepare ourselves for months of annoying inspectors and magic restrictions.”
“What a drag.” Remirio let out a long suffering sigh. “I’m heading upstairs to nap.”
“Remirio wait.” Junior the middle sibling protested. “Aren’t you going to help us prepare the cocoa cola chicken.”
“Can you not do it yourselves?” Replied Remirio not even bothering to turn his head as he moved past Jiana and reached the exit door. “Why do you all act like I’m the only one who can cook in here? As i said before I’m going to take a nap bye.”
Jiana looked around at her remaining grandchildren and grew dissatisfied with their lack of reaction to the situation. “These damn kids are too comfortable in the modern age.” After Remirio left Beverly entered nervously. Seeing her granddaughter’s shaken demeanour Jiana walked over to her and patted her head to calm her.
“Murdoc is here… he’s seated by the window on the right.” Beverly muttered out as she trembled like a newly hatched chicken.
Jiana’s face went pale after hearing this. “Why is he here looking to make trouble with me now.” Jiana said in a frustrated voice.
Jiana left the kitchen and walked into the lobby. Many customers were still lingering around the television. Some chattering among themselves others making phone calls and a few still stared at the television in a daze. Seated by the window on the right side of the front door was a mountain of a man. He wore an all black suit with a long top hat on his thumb-like head. His huge long earlobes dangled in the air as he turned his head to greet her with a grin bursting with razor sharp teeth. She took a deep breath and readied herself for the uncomfortable conversation that was about to take place.
Elsewhere in the city.
Chica Inoue sat on the corner of her bed cocooned in a layer of blankets, her dazed face illuminated by the light of her phone.
“The president was killed?” She said, her voice a complex mix of shock and sleepiness. “Is the world finally coming to an end?” She wondered.
It was so surreal like something out of an indie film. She laid down and adjusted herself into a comfortable position wondering if she’d wake up to an apocalypse the following morning.
End of prologue.