Hi all! I just recently got back into ficcing (Epic fake word) and I threw this together. I never really gave it any second thoughts, just decided to post it as is, so it may have some gram/spell errors, and if so, I apologize. Anyways, here y'all go, Pursuit.
Prologue
What is happiness?
For all of time, since man first begun to make inquiries about the world in which he had found himself, this question has been considered and debated. On a personal level, we as individuals have struggled with this question and with its answer. Yet, we cannot know. It is outside the realm of human knowledge to comprehend such powerful subjects as such. This is the way it has always been, and will be until the end of time.
Nevertheless, the search for the achievement of happiness is common to all men and women. In some, the urge is concealed deep inside, yet ever-present, like a soft, indefinable gnawing. In others, the lust of total fulfillment is eminent and strong, an undeniable beckoning that cannot be silenced until satisfied. Many longing hearts enter the grave with the call unanswered. However, the truth has a way of revealing itself to those who search for it.
Some who search find happiness in total self-sacrifice. Others, in the pursuit of riches. Still others seek out happiness through the achievement of power. Lucas Hunter was one such man. And it is his story which I now relate to you.
“Dang it!”
Two men, clad darkly and with shades over their eyes sat on opposite ends of a small metal table, each with a laptop before him. The man who had uttered the curse threw up his arms in disgust and muttered profanity under his breath. The other man raised an inquisitive brow and, his glance never wavering from the screen before him, queried, rather disinterestedly, “What? What’s wrong?”
“I lost it”
Instantly, all signs of disinterest faded and the second man looked up from his computer, alarm evident on his face. “What do you mean you lost it?” He demanded.
“I mean I lost it!”
“That’s impossible! The radar has had a lock on him for five months; no way has the signal just dropped all of a sudden.”
“Come look.”
The latter nearly overturned his swivel chair in his haste to rise. He came to stand behind his comrade and peered over his shoulder at the screen of his computer. A green map, displaying the layout of the entire Isshu region, filled the screen.
“Where’s the red marker?”
“No where. It’s just…gone.”
“What is gone?” Came a deep voice from behind.
The men whirled round to see a tall man, clad similarly in a dark suit and sunglasses. His dirty blonde hair was neatly combed and there wasn’t so much as a ruffle on his suit. His was the definition of distinguished and collected composure. His very presence seemed to radiate calm. Yet, there was a menacing side to his demeanor that drove chills up the men’s spines.
“The signal, Mr. Hunter, sir. We’ve lost the signal.”
Hunter didn’t move, didn’t flinch, at the unfortunate news. He stood statuesquely still, except for a slight tightening of his muscles. His expression was impassive, if the news took him by surprise, he didn’t let on. For a long while, he said nothing.
“This alters nothing,” he said finally, “The plan will proceed as scheduled.” And with that, he turned and started to walk away.
“But what about the signal? What will we do without it?”
Hunter didn’t turn, didn’t even bother to stop as he replied, “Nothing. Regain it.”
The two men looked at each other in desperation. In unison they exclaimed, “How?”
At this point Hunter stopped in his tracks. He turned and glared at the men, irritated, as if to waste breathe on expatiation was an insult to his superiority. “Where was the signal last recorded prior to its disappearance?”
“Twilight Woods,” was the immediate response.
“Well, then, prepare the jets and set course for Twilight Woods. Find the target, and regain the tracking signal. It is imperative to the progression of the plan.” Deciding that the conversation had been thus concluded, he turned once again and left the room.
He was halfway through the doorway when his departure was again interrupted by an exclamation from one of the two men. “What about Miss Jericho?”
Hunter took his time in responding, and seemed to take the thought into deep consideration. Then, carelessly waving a hand of dismissal he replied, “If you see her, when you see her, kill her.” And with that, he turned and left the room, shutting the steel door with a clang behind him.
As he did so, he felt a twinge of pain in his chest. Perhaps guilt, worry, regret, heartache?
Selena Jericho had been a thorn in his back for the entirety of the operation. First in the winning over of Zekrom, now in the hunting down of the second puzzle piece, and no doubt she would go to all efforts to divert his plan until one of them was ended. It wouldn’t be him.
Yet, was this really what he had wanted? The plan had been in progress for well over a year now, and he had been fully prepared to level everything and everyone that stood in his way. But come face-to-face with her, his nemesis or not, could he really bring himself to…kill?
To kill; to take from a being the gift which is the sole property of each and every individual: life. Up until now, he had never questioned it. The destruction of opposition was a necessity to progression. But, he didn’t see it that way anymore. What had changed?
Maybe it was Jordan herself who was doing this to him. He wouldn’t put it past the sneaky little witch, not for a second. She was toying with him, and that had to be stopped, at all costs.
Yes, it was all coming back into perspective now. He saw now the truth in his past judgments. The plan was the priority. Nothing else mattered.
“Is something the matter?” A rusty, rough voice came from overhead.
Startled, Hunter turned to see a man, composed entirely of vapor, with bright emerald eyes that seemed to pierce through to his soul. The figure hovered slowly down from the ceiling where it sat crouched, to stand beside Hunter.
“I really wish you wouldn’t do that!” Snapped Hunter, irritably, attempting as much as possible to avoid the eye contact that his companion was working to achieve. “It’s creepy. Just plain creepy. And no, nothing is the matter. There is simply a small glitch in the technology. The signal has been lost temporarily, but it is being re-achieved as we speak, and should be back before tonight.”
The figure nodded. “For your sake, I hope so. Because if this plan falls through, you know what happens.”
Suddenly, the being spun around and launched a blast of energy from his palms into a glass vase sitting on a wooden stand near the doorway. An explosion rocked the chamber and the vase burst into pieces. Hunter looked disapproving.
“That was a priceless antique.”
His only response was chuckling, and then the figure was gone. Vanished into the air.
“Darn him,” mumbled Hunter to himself. Then, leaning down, he plucked one of the pieces of glass from the floor and held it between his fingers, “One day, I hope to crush him into a million pieces.”
Prologue
What is happiness?
For all of time, since man first begun to make inquiries about the world in which he had found himself, this question has been considered and debated. On a personal level, we as individuals have struggled with this question and with its answer. Yet, we cannot know. It is outside the realm of human knowledge to comprehend such powerful subjects as such. This is the way it has always been, and will be until the end of time.
Nevertheless, the search for the achievement of happiness is common to all men and women. In some, the urge is concealed deep inside, yet ever-present, like a soft, indefinable gnawing. In others, the lust of total fulfillment is eminent and strong, an undeniable beckoning that cannot be silenced until satisfied. Many longing hearts enter the grave with the call unanswered. However, the truth has a way of revealing itself to those who search for it.
Some who search find happiness in total self-sacrifice. Others, in the pursuit of riches. Still others seek out happiness through the achievement of power. Lucas Hunter was one such man. And it is his story which I now relate to you.
“Dang it!”
Two men, clad darkly and with shades over their eyes sat on opposite ends of a small metal table, each with a laptop before him. The man who had uttered the curse threw up his arms in disgust and muttered profanity under his breath. The other man raised an inquisitive brow and, his glance never wavering from the screen before him, queried, rather disinterestedly, “What? What’s wrong?”
“I lost it”
Instantly, all signs of disinterest faded and the second man looked up from his computer, alarm evident on his face. “What do you mean you lost it?” He demanded.
“I mean I lost it!”
“That’s impossible! The radar has had a lock on him for five months; no way has the signal just dropped all of a sudden.”
“Come look.”
The latter nearly overturned his swivel chair in his haste to rise. He came to stand behind his comrade and peered over his shoulder at the screen of his computer. A green map, displaying the layout of the entire Isshu region, filled the screen.
“Where’s the red marker?”
“No where. It’s just…gone.”
“What is gone?” Came a deep voice from behind.
The men whirled round to see a tall man, clad similarly in a dark suit and sunglasses. His dirty blonde hair was neatly combed and there wasn’t so much as a ruffle on his suit. His was the definition of distinguished and collected composure. His very presence seemed to radiate calm. Yet, there was a menacing side to his demeanor that drove chills up the men’s spines.
“The signal, Mr. Hunter, sir. We’ve lost the signal.”
Hunter didn’t move, didn’t flinch, at the unfortunate news. He stood statuesquely still, except for a slight tightening of his muscles. His expression was impassive, if the news took him by surprise, he didn’t let on. For a long while, he said nothing.
“This alters nothing,” he said finally, “The plan will proceed as scheduled.” And with that, he turned and started to walk away.
“But what about the signal? What will we do without it?”
Hunter didn’t turn, didn’t even bother to stop as he replied, “Nothing. Regain it.”
The two men looked at each other in desperation. In unison they exclaimed, “How?”
At this point Hunter stopped in his tracks. He turned and glared at the men, irritated, as if to waste breathe on expatiation was an insult to his superiority. “Where was the signal last recorded prior to its disappearance?”
“Twilight Woods,” was the immediate response.
“Well, then, prepare the jets and set course for Twilight Woods. Find the target, and regain the tracking signal. It is imperative to the progression of the plan.” Deciding that the conversation had been thus concluded, he turned once again and left the room.
He was halfway through the doorway when his departure was again interrupted by an exclamation from one of the two men. “What about Miss Jericho?”
Hunter took his time in responding, and seemed to take the thought into deep consideration. Then, carelessly waving a hand of dismissal he replied, “If you see her, when you see her, kill her.” And with that, he turned and left the room, shutting the steel door with a clang behind him.
As he did so, he felt a twinge of pain in his chest. Perhaps guilt, worry, regret, heartache?
Selena Jericho had been a thorn in his back for the entirety of the operation. First in the winning over of Zekrom, now in the hunting down of the second puzzle piece, and no doubt she would go to all efforts to divert his plan until one of them was ended. It wouldn’t be him.
Yet, was this really what he had wanted? The plan had been in progress for well over a year now, and he had been fully prepared to level everything and everyone that stood in his way. But come face-to-face with her, his nemesis or not, could he really bring himself to…kill?
To kill; to take from a being the gift which is the sole property of each and every individual: life. Up until now, he had never questioned it. The destruction of opposition was a necessity to progression. But, he didn’t see it that way anymore. What had changed?
Maybe it was Jordan herself who was doing this to him. He wouldn’t put it past the sneaky little witch, not for a second. She was toying with him, and that had to be stopped, at all costs.
Yes, it was all coming back into perspective now. He saw now the truth in his past judgments. The plan was the priority. Nothing else mattered.
“Is something the matter?” A rusty, rough voice came from overhead.
Startled, Hunter turned to see a man, composed entirely of vapor, with bright emerald eyes that seemed to pierce through to his soul. The figure hovered slowly down from the ceiling where it sat crouched, to stand beside Hunter.
“I really wish you wouldn’t do that!” Snapped Hunter, irritably, attempting as much as possible to avoid the eye contact that his companion was working to achieve. “It’s creepy. Just plain creepy. And no, nothing is the matter. There is simply a small glitch in the technology. The signal has been lost temporarily, but it is being re-achieved as we speak, and should be back before tonight.”
The figure nodded. “For your sake, I hope so. Because if this plan falls through, you know what happens.”
Suddenly, the being spun around and launched a blast of energy from his palms into a glass vase sitting on a wooden stand near the doorway. An explosion rocked the chamber and the vase burst into pieces. Hunter looked disapproving.
“That was a priceless antique.”
His only response was chuckling, and then the figure was gone. Vanished into the air.
“Darn him,” mumbled Hunter to himself. Then, leaning down, he plucked one of the pieces of glass from the floor and held it between his fingers, “One day, I hope to crush him into a million pieces.”
