Cain (installment #1)

Dec 24, 2007 - 13:04 PM PST

“You know, this isn’t about us.”

Cain relaxed her delicate neck against the cold leather of the large black executive chair and breathed out a tendril of smoke. Her ragged voice floated as though a whisper on the air. Clouds screened the faint silver glow that the blinds permitted through into the office where she sat behind a refurbished oak desk. The room had been remodeled just a couple of weeks before and it still had that 'unused' feel about it. She flicked her cigarette ashes unto the floor and crossed her long legs. Her designer pants were spackled with a liquid the same color and consistency as drying blood. She sighed out and slowly kicked off her shoes; resting her tired feet on the hard top of the desk. Her body ached. Her back was sore, but she knew she had to keep running.
She stared across at the man standing halfway between the doorway and the desk. His short brown hair was disheveled and dark circles cradled his judging eyes. He wore a long tan trench coat that was worn and wet from the windy city outside. His breathing was labored and short. The chase was at an end; at least for him.

“This is much bigger I hope you do realize.”

Rain tapped lightly against the window pane; streaking the room with a watery silhouette. Cain swung her legs down and leaned back. She gazed out into what she could see of the brightly lit city and sighed once more.
Seconds passed like decades. Faint sirens could be heard a few blocks away, but her body remained relaxed. She closed her eyes and breathed out sharply.

“You better listen good because what I’m about to tell you no one else has heard before.”

She paused thoughtfully.

“No one that’s alive.”

She bent over and stabbed the cigarette into the carpet.

“And I won’t repeat myself.”