Alphonse sat on the bar stool, cold brew in hand. Although he couldn’t feel the alcohol warp his mind, the bitter-sweet taste of the cold brew sliding down his throat was an incredible feeling. It felt a lot better than warm course blood travelling down his gullet.

His eyes rested on Felecia as she happily danced away on the open dance floor. She lost all sense of what the word ‘shy’ meant, her limbs flailing around in the air as her smile seemed to light up the room. Her giggling was like a soft embrace for his ears as he slowly took it all in.

“Never thought I’d be so happy to see a smile again.” Tariq’s eyes patiently watched, his hands clutched around the half-full cold glass of brew.

“I’m just glad we made it out of that hellhole… together, as friends.” Markus placed his large arm on Tariq's shoulder. They all watched Felecia together.

“Not all of us.” Tariq added, his hands clenched into fists.

“Well,” Markus sighed. “Let’s just forget about them.”

“That’s surprising,” Tariq said. “I thought you would say something like, I’m going to crush their skulls in! Or I’ll beat them to a bloody pulp the next time I see them! Something like that.”

“Yeah well, I’m tired of fighting, for now…” The fight in Markus’ eyes dwindled, his large shoulders looked… small.

Alphonse looked at his battle-worn group. The constant fighting on the border between life and death had taken its toll. He could tell it the experience within the other world exhausted them. He could tell… because he was the same. His tired, sober eyes drifted down to his hands. They had seen blood; they had seen dirt. Now, he wanted them to see something else. Something worth fighting for.

“Al-phoonse!” Felecia ran over, almost falling face first onto the rough wooden floor beneath. “Yu gotta dance wi me!” Her hands clasped around his own. They were hot to the touch. Her face almost blended together with Isabelle's in Alphonse’s mind.

He shook his head at the thought. He stepped off of the stool as he took her hand and walked towards the dancefloor. Life goes on. The thought dwindled from his mind.

“Woah, would you look at that brave sod? I didn’t take Alphonse for a dancer.” Tariq smiled as he watched Alphonse dance. There was no form–no consistency–just fun.

“Fuck it, let’s join em’!” Markus laughed as he shot to his feet, joining in. The rock music was getting crazier as Felecia’s hair flicked and swayed in the air.

“Ah, you guys, it’s not called a dance if I’m not there!” Tariq quickly stubbed out his cigarette and rushed to join in, a smile blossoming on his face.

The group began dancing, their unbridled stress being released. Haydon shook his head–he slunk into his pint glass–afraid they would call him to the dance floor.

They all huddled together, but they noticed something was... missing. Their heads spun around to Haydon as mischievous grins formed at the corner of their mouths. Felicia stumbled over, her hands clasped around his arm. Her head was spinning, moving from side to side. It was hard to tell whether it was because of the music or her poor tolerance for alcohol, probably the latter.

Against Haydon's will, she dragged him to the dance floor. His head bobbing to the beat of the music. The shadows looked to bend around his legs, they were... happy.

Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

***

A faint smile appeared on Daisy’s tanned face as she watched the kids dance on the dancefloor. It was a rare occurrence in this place, seeing such innocence and childlike fun. Even the rough locals couldn’t keep a smile off of their faces as they watched the kids’ play around. Although down here they were free from the reigns of the officers and the Figures of Seven, it was still a prison all the same. They spent their time waiting… waiting for their monthly mission, and they hoped it was a longer one. For a chance to be away from this cesspool of order, fear, and scrutiny.

“Miss Hainz,” the heavily tattooed bouncer bowed his head. “The Wild Dogs have returned from their mission. They await your presence.”

Daisy’s smile had vanished, as if it had never been there before. “Alright Roderick, take over for me here.”

Daisy walked into a back room, kegs of all fresh beers lined up together, creating a faint wood aroma that had blended in with the bitterness of the beer. There wasn’t a cobweb in sight, despite the dark corners of the room. It had a strange cleanliness to it that contradicted such a room. Much like the pub itself.

She walked up to the wall. It was a blank wall, red bricks in front of metal. Her palm gently placed up against the brick. After a moment, her fingers disappeared, then her arm. She took a step forwards as her body vanished from the stockroom.

Daisy opened up her eyes to a group of people, sat around a large round table within the spacious room. It was a bland room with no furnishings, large metal walls made the room… claustrophobic.

Everyone stood up at the sight of Daisy, some bowed their heads, some only slightly nodded whereas others had no reaction at all. One thing was obvious, though: they all showed respect.

“By the smell of all of you, your mission was a success.” Daisy smiled as she took her seat at the head of the table.

“You say as if you don’t already know the answer.” A tall man removed the hood from his face, the picture of a dog with wild fur stamped onto his jacket’s arm. His eyes were a mesmerising green, green as an endless forest from above. Everything about him was sharp; to his jawline, to the nails at the tip of his finger, to the way he moved his slender limbs. He placed a blood-stained badge on the hardwood of the table. Two golden stars adorned the badge. “Although, I think we should start going after some bigger players. Losing a lieutenant hardly counts for much.” His confident words reverberated within the iron walls.

“Don’t underestimate even the importance of one officer, Jack,” Daisy knocked her nails against the table. “They extensively vet even a second lieutenant. They need undying loyalty. The amount of resources and credits they pump into even a single officer to pad their ranks is obscene. Everyone we can get rid of is pressure off our backs. But,” A small grin appeared on her face. “I agree with you, and on that matter… I have another mission for you all.”

Daisy’s eyes rolled to the back of her head. Instead of the whites of the eyeballs, a second set of eyeballs took its place. Instead of her faint chestnut eyes, they shimmered in an iridescent light. The light projected forth onto the large table as images began appearing. Images of an older man, a large vicious scar, marred his face. A militaristic aura covered his permanently shaven face. However, it was the golden pauldrons he donned that brought with it an intrinsic fear of three parts.

The fear of power. His eyes held the power of command. As if he was used to ordering the deaths of those around him.

The fear of strength, the strength that coursed through his veins, the might capable of tearing lives away at the move of his hand.

The fear of uncertainty, the unknown of whether they could take him down.

“Miss Hainz… Are you sure?” Maya spoke up. Although she was confident in her strength, she was only a 2nd year. The voice of… uncertainty revoked the silence within the room.

“I am sure, for there will be a moment that we can take advantage of,” Daisy’s grin turned almost savage, her hands trembling as her fingernails dug into the image of the officer’s face. “Soon, it will be our time. We will decimate this fucking ship and bring it all down with us. We will return to our homes, to our families, alive or… dead.”

Her words caused their hearts to tremble, the words drummed into their minds.

Maya bit her lips. Blood seeped from them as her hands began beating the table like a war drum. The others around the table joined in. Within the room, a small group of people drummed on the table as their palms turned red. Their hands split, blood splashed, but there was no care. The time was near.