Christian Droulers

Agile and flexible programmer

Untitled

Prologue

The air disintegrated as the double coloured beam hissed through the corridor. During their fast travel, they started swirling around each other and finally melted into one bright beam that cracked the air around it. The guard turned around, unaware of the danger the sound brought with itself. The only thing he saw was a bright light just before the door exploded and sent him flying all the way through the room. He crashed on the wall and dozens of wooden splinters tore his flesh and muscles apart. The other person in the room, the prisoner, was familiar with this particular hiss and had jumped behind a fallen table for protection just as sharp, killing splinters flew past her. What had not exploded in the door was now slowly transforming into molten slag because of the heat, creating a thick smoke. A silhouette slowly drew itself through the vapour, guns still flashing with energy. The prisoner almost jumped into its arms and yelled: “You came for me!”.


‒ You have to get up, said the guard.

‒ That would be considered hard in my position right now.

‒ Would you like me to help you, sir? he replied sarcastically, drawing closer.

‒ I’d like to follow you, but you guys thought it would be a good idea to break my legs. I guess it’s your loss right now buddy.

‒ Whatever you say. Just don’t complain on the way up there.

The guard grabbed the prisoner’s leg and walked out of the filthy cell. He dragged him for 10 minutes, through ugly corridors and disgusting staircases to finally throw him on the floor of a room where only a desk and a giant chair stood.

‒ Well hi there, Mister Evil, nagged the prisoner. What are you up to recently? Oh yeah, I forgot, you want to take over the world with Them?

‒ Of course I am, replied the man in the chair as he turned around to face his interlocutor. What else could I do with such power I hold?

‒ I don’t know, maybe something a little more fun. Like having a hobby or something.

‒ Funny, maybe I won’t kill you after all, you could be my own private jester, telling jokes and all.

‒ Funny, I think I’ve figured out something, said the wounded man as he got up on one leg. I think I’ve figured out what you are doing all this for.

‒ Are you serious? Well, guess what? I don’t really care about what you think.

As he said the last sentence in a low and arrogant voice, he pulled his pistol out and pointed at the other man’s face. A grin appeared on his face when he said: “I’m not your usual kind of guy you know?” The trigger was pulled and the gun fired its energy bullet. The prisoner felt his mind shatter into a million pieces while his body collapsed and tumbled on the dirty floor.

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