~How We All Met? – Part Two~
The Undertaker laid six folders on the desk. He smiled at Fang. There were times Fang thought the man was crazy. But since he was helping him, however, Fang found no reason to not trust him.
“Sorry, looks like these were the only ones left,” Undertaker laughed, “You can take your pick.”
“How many do I need to make a team?” Fang inquired.
“Well, the fewer you are the less noticeable you become but the more you are the quicker you become,” he paused, “and it doesn’t hurt to have back-up when you need it. You know, just in case you mess up.”
“I don’t mess up,” Fang muttered, “at least, not anymore.”
The Undertaker’s smile grew. He liked this kid. He wasn’t sure why, but he knew his instincts were never wrong, no matter how old he had become. Undertaker flipped though one of the folders.
“Well, let’s see what we have,” he said, “Shadow Peirce, looks like he’s fine except…”
“He is hard to control and had a strange fascination with blood,” Fang read.
“Good to know you can read upside down,” the smile grew wider, “Well, what do you think?”
“I think I can control him,” Fang stated.
Shadow sat at a corner of an alley. His black hair covered his eyes. It was relatively short compared to Fang’s or the Undertaker’s but it fell to his shoulders. He heard some foot steps and stirred. His red eyes opened and looked down the alley. Fang approached his face as serious as ever.
“Are you Shadow Peirce?” Fang asked.
Shadow turned his head to view Fang better. His white skin looked pale in the sunlight but he looked as healthy as any man. He situated himself and in that moment Fang caught a glimpse of his scared arms.
“No,” he said after a moment in silence.
“You are a hard man to find, Shadow, did you know that?” Fang continued.
“Look, I’m not in the best of moods, so why don’t you bug off?” Shadow rested his head and ignored Fang.
“I’m with the Tower and I need a team. I though that you would like to get off this corner and do something other than waste away here.”
“You thought wrong,” Shadow looked at Fang again, only with more hostility in his eyes, “Me and the Tower, we don’t exactly get along. That’s why they discharged me and I quit. So either you go back the way you came or I gut you here and now.”
Shadow was also known as the Knife Agent. His skill with knives and daggers was uncanny.
“I’d like to see you try,” Fang said straight faced.
In a nanosecond, Shadow was on his feet, dagger in hand and lunging at Fang’s neck. Just as quickly, Fang stepped back a step and stepped to the side. For a moment, Shadow was shocked that he had missed for the first time in years, but it didn’t faze him for long. He reoriented his dagger and tried to attack again. Fang dodged just as easily that time as he did the first time. Fang stepped aside and kept a good distance away from the dagger.
“Alright, that is how you want to play?” Shadow drew five more daggers, three for each hand, “Let’s see if you can dance.”
He threw them and Fang jumped back into a back flip, dodging two daggers on the spot. Fang then rolled out of the way of three more and jumped back out of the way of the last one. All the while, he watched Shadow.
“Finally,” Fang said with aboard look on his face, “you’re beginning to interest me.”
“I’ll show you something to be interested in!” Shadow shouted and charged at Fang.
He picked up the used daggers as he ran. Of course he had more but why waist when you can reuse. He lunged for Fang’s neck. Fang cocked his head and the dagger passed. He then grabbed Shadow’s wrist preventing Shadow from moving. Fang turned and kicked him. Shadow was sent flying back. But he would not be out done. Shadow got back up again and was about to throw his daggers. Fang took off his long coat and threw it in view. Shadow hesitated; he wasn’t expecting that at all. Fang ran around and caught Shadow in that moment’s hesitation. He kicked Shadow’s leg. Shadow crashed to the ground. He was about to get up when he came to his senses and realized that he was staring down the barrel of a silver gun. Shadow stayed still as he waited for the gun to go off. It didn’t.
“Now, let me explain my situation, “Fang stated, “I need a team. And frankly I’m not giving you much of a choice anymore. I’ve seen what you can do and I think that I can help you. So, what do you say?”
“If I say yes, will you get that gun out of my face?” Shadow asked.
“I’ll consider it.”
“He is interesting,” Undertaker observed, his finger twirling a lock of his hair in thought, “Very interesting.”
“Who’s next?” Fang said.
“Raven Crow,” the smile returned, “A little redundant wouldn’t you say?”
“They are different birds,” Fang looked at the file.
“Might as well of named her black bird,” his smile widened.
Reighn shook its head. Sometimes being around the Undertaker was trying.
“Looks like she was a childhood soldier,” Fang read.
“Shame,” Undertaker stopped his smiling and sighed, “people like that don’t usually make good Agents.”
“All of these don’t,” Fang paged through all the files, “That’s why I want them.”
“You future holds nothing for you, your love life is non-existent, and I foresee you immediate unhappiness,” Raven stated in monotone.
The other woman gasped and swore at her. After that she stormed out.
Raven sat there in front of a fake crystal ball in a purple tent. The top half of her face was covered in the cowl of her hood. Her cape was a dark, almost black, purple color with pictures on it. She sighed and pulled off her hood. Her hair was purple and short and her eyes were a dark green. She sat cross-legged and took a deep breath.
“Next!” she called.
She hated her job. Because she looked so wired the traveling carnival made her pretend to be a fortune teller. Now she was reaching her breaking point for the day. She would close shop after the next person.
A shadow loomed over the entrance way to the tent. Raven looked up and saw Fang. She sighed and sat up straight.
“Welcome to the mystic world of fortunetelling. I am Raven the Bird of Foresight. What would you like me to disclose for you, today?”
“Nothing, really,” Fang stated.
She looked at him, “Really?”
“Yeah,” he said, “I don’t believe in foresight.”
“Then what are you doing here?”
“Well, I came to offer you a job,” Fang sat down, “from the reaction of the girl out there, you hate it here.”
“Raven shrugged, “Who wouldn’t? What job?”
“I work for the Tower,” Fang explained, “I’m sure you have heard if it.”
Of course she had heard of it. She had tried to apply for it.
“Now you idiots realize how much of an asset I am?” Raven rolled her eyes.
“No, they haven’t,” Raven looked confused, “but I have. I’ve been asked to lead a Black team. And naturally I need a team. What do you say?”
Raven looked down at the crystal ball between them. She thought about it a moment. After a while she stood up and walked out of the tent. The line was gone; the girl had probably scared all her customers away. There was only one man left and he stood like a shadow a few feet away. He looked at her with red eyes. The man seemed to be waiting for someone.
“Is that one out there your other teammate?” she asked Fang.
“Yeah,” Fang stated, “His name is Shadow.”
“Why do you want me?”
“You’re a childhood soldier,” Fang looked at her.
“The Tower said I had rage issues,” she looked at him back, “One minute I’m calm the next I’m at your neck.”
“I can help you with that,” Fang looked at the opened tent flap, “He cuts and loves playing with blood. Considering that, yours is a much easier problem to deal with.”
Raven looked back outside, “How long have you known each other?”
“A few months,” Fang answered.
She caught a glimpse of his arms. They were still scarred and there were a few knew ones, but they weren’t as deep as they once were. Shadow felt a gaze on him again and looked to see the girl looking at him again. She looked like she was about to cry. In truth, she was but she kept herself together.
“I guess anywhere is better than here,” she said.
“So will that mean you will be coming with us?” Fang stood and prepared himself for leaving.
“Sure, why not?” she pulled her hood up again and ventured outside, “I have an ax to pick with the Tower and this might be the perfect way to do it.”
“Yes, yes, she has promise, I can tell you that,” Undertaker nodded thoughtfully, “Now what do you expect to gain exactly by having a bunch of crazies on your team?”
Fang shrugged, “I need a team, don’t I? And I don’t think I can be too picky. I need all I can get.”
“Well, you can get a little picky,” Undertaker smiled and laughed.
Fang couldn’t see what was so funny. He glanced at the Neuw on the desk, scribbling away. It barely noticed its master’s hysterical laughter. It yawned and carried on with its calculations. Fang guessed that this was a common occurrence.
“Who else do we have here?” Fang asked.
After a great effort, the Undertaker pulled himself together but still had that wide smile on his face. He propped his head on his hand, his long black nails lightly touched his face.
“Oh, I don’t know, you can read, cant you?” he smiled.
Fang rolled his eyes. He looked at the next folder.
“Alister Strider,” Fang said thoughtfully, “Now this one looks interesting.”
“Oh, him?” Undertaker smiled, “Yeah, he’s a work of art, that’s all I can say.”