Scenes: *HF* Part XI: The End *NEW*
By Mufasa
Scenes: Part XI: The End
White Court
“Let’s just say, Mr. Edwards, that you are joining the Hellfire Club in a state of transition.”
“Transition?” Jermaine looked out the window of the limousine at the entrance to the White Court estate in New York, not quite sure what he expected to see. A wrought iron gate. Of course… ALL rich people have wrought iron gates. People walking around the estate in neatly pressed uniforms, pruning and keeping up the lawn. Four people were stationed at the gate. Security guards, he assumed. As they passed the security checkpoint, he began to get a better idea of what this was. “From what to what?”
“As for where we have been, that will be part of your orientation,” Casey Jones said. “As to where we are going, that will partly be up to you. There is a general blueprint of what we want this to actually become, but the means are up to you.”
“That’s reassuring…” he said sarcastically.
“You have no idea,” Angelo said. “It’s a different creature altogether from what it used to be.” The driver opened the limo door in front of the entrance to the main hall. “Why don’t you step out and go see for yourself?”
The three of them left the limo and started toward the main entrance. One of the two armed doorman hit a button which caused the solid oak double door to move inward, apparently of its own volition. Standing twenty feet inside the lobby was a man, dressed aptly in white with a knowing smirk on his face.
“So who’s the Backstreet Boy?” Jermaine asked.
Ozymandias, the man projected into Jermaine’s head. Your new supervisor.
“What the hell did I just get myself into?”
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Black Court
Phantom sat on top of the jeep, swishing his tail back and forth as he watched Justin and Rhiannon embrace and whisper jokes back and forth to each other. The way the two of them went about it was so “lovey-dovey,” it made him sick. Granted, they were always crazy about each other, but they never took it to that extreme.
Rogue and Greg each leaned on the jeep, looking back and forth between each other and the couple acting all “couply” just a few feet away from them. Rune stood behind them, watching in disgust… and a little bit of sadness. She was a friend and she was walking away from them, quite possibly for good.
“I’m going to miss all of you so much,” she said. “You guys are family in just about every sense of the word, but now I’m going to have to look over things with my other family.”
“I’m going to miss you,” Justin said. “And those late-night games of shag…”
“And I’m going to miss those spatula jokes… and the pranks we were pulling on Strong Towers…” Rhiannon answered. “E-mail?”
“You got it… and don’t be surprised if I pop up in New Orleans now and then.”
“Oh… I’ll know before you even show up and have the red carpet all rolled for you.” One more time, she kissed him and then hopped into the driver’s seat of the jeep, after hugging everyone gathered. “You guys got my number.”
“Take care, Rhiannon…” Rogue said. “And practice those cartwheels like I said.”
“And before you go…” Greg placed a heavy box in the back of the jeep. “Just a little going away present.”
“I don’t drink coffee, Greg.”
“Doesn’t mean some of those thieves down there won’t!”
“Just one last thing, Rhiannon,” Justin said, holding out his hand. “Can you please hand back the watch you slid off my wrist? I don’t want to explain to Khalid where his watch went.”
Rhiannon smiled, tossing Justin the watch and then started up the jeep. Phantom hopped in through the skylight and dropped down in the passenger seat. “Oh what… You aren’t going to ask for your wallet back?”
“Nah,” he said. “Everything in there is fake, anyway. I’ll just take it back when I come visit you in New Orleans.”
“Take care, everyone… You too, Rune!” she said, speeding the jeep away down the road. The four of them watched it go down the access road until it grew small. Rogue, Greg, and Rune turned to go back inside the mansion while Justin looked on when suddenly they were all jerked in their places by the sound of a massive boom.
“Rhiannon?” Justin said? Without missing a beat, he sprinted down the path trying to close the distance… praying that what he heard was not what he thought he heard.
Rogue, with Greg in tow, actually reached the jeep first, only to see a burning pile of what was once a vehicle. She started toward the jeep, but an explosion knocked the two of them off their feet.
“RHIANNON??!!” Justin screamed, lunging for the car. He dashed toward the fireball, ripping away the door. Phantom… he saw Phantom… unconscious. He grabbed the cat, carefully tucking him inside his arm to shield him as much as possible from the smoke and flames. He didn’t see Rhiannon. He didn’t see her at all! He started to look even more, when Greg and Rune pulled him back away from the truck. Reluctantly, he let himself get dragged just before the jeep exploded yet again. The four of them hit the ground hard from the impact.
When he opened his eyes, Justin saw an arrow beside his head, with a letter addressed specifically to him. “Darkwolf – You took something from me… so I took something from you. I can be persuaded to trade…” It wasn’t signed. It wasn’t signed at all.
Whoever took Outburst had just made the biggest – and LAST – mistake of his life.
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There were some things that he just did not like about the White Rook position. What did rooks do? They oversaw the day to day operations of the court. Organizational matters. Mailroom. Payroll. Maintenance. Groundskeeping. Requisitions. Infirmary. Stuff like that. Mostly, it was paperwork. Everything that was approved had to cross his desk. One part of the job was that he had to check in on things from time to time…
The mailroom was especially busy in the mornings, shortly after the delivery trucks arrive. A staff of twenty spent the entire day sorting, organizing, delivering mail to and from the respective areas in the court. Khalid walked through the mailroom watching everyone at work. Nothing different. People doing what they were supposed to do. Everything was running smoothly as usual.
Just as he was about to leave the room, the headache hit him. With a flash of the eyes, he turned toward the door. Some of the sorters stopped, seeing the pained expression on his face as he looked toward the door. He didn’t say a word, because he knew that no one else could see the “visitor” but him. He just wish it was as easy for him to hide his contempt for this man… this man that dared insult him by copying his very appearance.
They looked back and forth from Khalid and the door trying to see what he was looking at, but they were just as confused as ever. Before anyone could ask any questions, he went out the door, walking “through” his visitor. He started down the hall, keeping his growling to himself. He didn’t even have to look to see that the visitor was there.
What’s wrong, Khalid… You don’t feel like talking to an old friend?
“Get out of my head. You made your point,” he said, not turning to meet him. “And choose another fucking form.”
I’m just reminding you where I came from.
Khalid backhanded the man and then grabbed him by the neck. The man, although he felt it, didn’t move. He just sat there laughing as loud as he could, safely knowing that no one except Khalid could hear him. Khalid growled at him squeezing tightly on his neck. “I know EXACTLY where you came from, and it isn’t from me!”
Not yet… but soon…
Khalid shoved him away and continued down the hall. He could see some of the workers around looking at him, puzzling at his behavior. The visitor laughed even louder.
You would love to kill me… WOULDN’T you? A crowd of people gathered near the ends of the hall, each of them talking among themselves.
“Get back to work!” Khalid barked out. “Soliloquy’s over.” As the crowds dispersed, Khalid dropped into one of the nearby chairs, his eyes glaring intently at the demon that only he could see… that DARED to copy his form.
You can kill me, Khalid… right now… You know where to find me. You know how to find me.
Unknown to either of them, there was a man standing at the end of the hall who witnessed the conversation between both of them. The White Pawn Diablo stroked his goatee silently. The Hellstone medallion dangling from his neck flashed a deep shade of red.
Mallefus laughed as he faded away. See you in your nightmares, Khalid…
The End
Mufasa
King of Kemet
King of Insanity
The White Rook
XMBB Editor
The only man ever denied entrance into the Beer Cult.