Chapter Two
Occulte carefully aimed the Glock 20 he was using. He squeezed off a single round, which blew through the bull’s-eye on the target two hundred yards away.
He spoke loudly towards Jeremy, as they were both wearing earplugs. “So, who do you think that this ‘chosen one’ is anyway? Everybody seems to be theorizing about it lately, all of them hoping it will be them.”
Jeremy smirked, putting a hole in the bull’s-eye of his own target. “You know I don’t buy into this Prophecy shit, and last time I checked, you didn’t either.”
“I don’t, but for the sake of argument…”
Occulte unleashed eight rounds on his target, carving a perfect square into it.
“I haven’t really thought about it. I don’t think I would want to be the Chosen One though. Too much responsibility for my taste.” Jeremy was about to continue shooting, and put a stop to the conversation, when Occulte tapped him on his shoulder and pointed towards the entrance to the firing range.
The only non-instructor female in the entire complex had just strolled into the room, and was in the process of preparing her gun at one of the firing booths. It was too bad she was off-limits, as she was incredibly hot; but she was the Fulfiller’s granddaughter. He had her attend class here because the Imperial Hierarchy’s educational facilities were among the best in the world… and because he could keep an eye on her constantly.
Occulte had been keeping an eye on her for a while now as well, but in an entirely different way. After all, the only mildly-approachable female within a mile was quite an attention grabber.
Her name was Diamond. Quite an unusual name, but then again, so was Occulte. She was approximately 5’9” tall, she weighed about 120 lbs., and she was sixteen years old. Occulte would put her at a C-cup, but he had never quite understood the whole bust measurement system; it wasn’t like there were a lot of people in this place that talked about that kind of thing. Judging by the way she would assault anyone daring to disrespect her, she loved fighting as much as any of the Possibles… and she was also quite adept at it. She was, as well, incredibly intelligent.
Occulte had realized a while ago that he was enamored with her, but he hadn’t dared to act on his feelings. The last Possible that had asked her on a date had been flogged in public for his offense, which was a punishment which had been pretty much halted about the time they had all turned eight years old. It had caused quite a stir.
But, something had changed recently. The instructors had not been handing out punishments to any of the Possibles. Occulte figured that they didn’t want to turn any of them against the staff at a time so close to the Choosing. So just maybe there was a possibility that he could get away with something he wouldn’t normally be able to.
Occulte tossed down his gun and walked over to her booth, leaning against the thin wall. Jeremy groaned; he had watched his friend doom himself to trouble too many times before to attempt to stop him, and it was looking as if he was about to do it again.
“Hey Diamond. What’s up?” he asked in a cool, confident voice.
She reached up and brushed a strand of her long brown hair out of the way of her sparkling blue eyes.
‘God she’s beautiful,’ Occulte thought to himself.
She smiled warmly in a way that left the normally calm and controlled Occulte in a daze. “Nothing much. Occulte, right?”
Occulte mentally slapped himself before responding. “Yeah. I was wondering if you might want to accompany me into town for a bite to eat this Sunday.”
Her beautiful smiled faltered for a second. The effect was like having a storm suddenly appear on a sunny day. “You do know what happened to the last guy that asked me out, right?”
Occulte merely shrugged, exuding a confidence in himself that he most certainly did not feel at that moment. “Don’t worry about me; I can take care of myself.”
“Well,” her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper and her smile returning,
“it has been a while since I have been out on a date… so why not? Meet me at
the gates,
“Perfect. See you then.” Occulte, in a rare gesture, smiled. He never smiled. He smirked sometimes, and every once in a while his lips would curl upwards in an evil smile/grimace of sorts, but he never smiled. Occulte walked back over to Jeremy, the smile replaced with his usual smirk.
“Man, are you trying to get yourself fucking killed?” Jeremy asked him in a whisper. “The old man is going to beat the living shit out of you!”
“I’m more worried about the date. I’ve never been on one before,” Occulte responded, “but the old man is no concern of mine. If he takes me aside or something, I’ll just threaten him that I know I’m the Chosen One, and that in a few weeks I’ll be able to kick his ass around the complex. Of course, I could already do that, but there is the matter of the twenty-five instructors that might want my head…”
Jeremy raised an eyebrow. “You think you’re the Chosen One?”
Occulte laughed. It was not one of those giddy little laughs, as Occulte did not laugh like that. It was more like a cold, un-emotional “ha.”
“Please. Of course not. But the old retard doesn’t know that, does he?”
Jeremy grinned, and asked them what they should do now; a bell had just sounded indicating the one-hour free period they all received in the middle of the day.
Occulte shrugged. “Why don’t we take out a car and head into town for lunch? I can’t think of anything interesting to do.”
Jeremy nodded, and both of them walked to the garage, selecting a black electric car. The cars were really small, completely open to the elements, and only held a twenty-four hour charge, but they were the only vehicles allotted to the Possibles.
They were at the town, which was about two kilometers away, in less than five minutes. They noted two more electric cars already parked at the bar they normally ate in. That in itself was highly unusual; almost never did any other Possible choose to stop at the Storm Drain. It was the only bar in town without a few pool tables, and was therefore avoided by most teens… all the better for Occulte and Jeremy, who both preferred solitude.
As they walked in, Occulte’s mind flipped into its battle-ready mode. He surveyed the damage; the bartender was unconscious, blood streaming from his head, and four Possibles that Occulte recognized as Eric, Jacob, Slovaks, and Richard were standing around a young girl who was scared out of her wits. Judging from the rip marks on her clothes, they were just about to begin raping her. Occulte snarled in a terrifying way, effectively distracting the four assailants from their intended target.
“Jeremy, I don’t know about you, but if there is one thing I cannot stand, it is when people take advantage of someone who is defenseless.” As he was speaking, both he and Jeremy were closing the gap between themselves and the other Possibles.
Jeremy’s normally warm voice cooled to a level only rivaled by Occulte’s. “Then what do you say we even up the odds a little?”
Eric was the first one to leap into action, a knife flicking into his hand. A bad decision on his part. Occulte gripped Eric’s wrist, twisting it with a loud crack that could be heard echoing throughout the bar. He placed a kick into the would-be rapist’s side as he simultaneously yanked hard on his arm, dislocating it as well as breaking three ribs. Eric fell to the ground, unable to move from the pain that had overwhelmed him.
Jacob came in with an overextended flying kick towards Jeremy’s face. Jeremy merely side-stepped it, while grabbing the leg and chucking Jacob hard towards the ground. At least three segments of bone could be seen sticking through the skin on his leg after he impacted the hard, wooden floor.
Both Slovaks and Richard attempted to run, having been deprived of the leaders of their little wolf pack. Occulte and Jeremy would have none of it. Jeremy grabbed two steak knives off the nearest table, handing one of the knives to Occulte. They both threw the knives at the same time, and true to their training, both of the boys’ weapons impacted their intended targets at the base of their skulls. They were dead long before their bodies hit the ground.
“Are you all right?” Occulte asked the now shocked girl. She merely nodded in response.
Jeremy checked the bartender’s vitals, relieved to discover the friend of theirs was still alive.
“He’s fine,” he reported to Occulte, “but he’s probably going to need a few stitches.”
Occulte dialed 911 on the telephone that was kept behind the bar, quickly reporting the events- minus his and Jeremy’s names- to the operator before he hung up.
The two boys left before the police came anywhere near the scene.