Christian was not an Assassin. He had no talent at getting close to his targets and killing them when they least expected it, never mind befriending them. He also didn’t know the first thing about killing from long distances. Mid-range with his guns, yes, but he couldn’t shoot those any farther than about five hundred meters.
That’s why the first thing he did after leaving Samantha was head over to the Science Division. They were the ones in charge of producing all of the weapons and equipment that the Executioners used to complete their missions. He hoped they would have something that he could use that wouldn’t require extensive training.
***
A dinging sound alerted him to the elevator reaching its destination. The door before him slid open, and he exited.
The hallway before him looked much different from the one Samantha’s office was located in; sturdier, and much more plain. The walls, floor, and ceiling were made of thick concrete, all painted a drab gray. There were no decorations in this hall.
Christian’s feet thudded dully on the hard floor as he walked. He ignored the few people in lab coats that passed him by, as well as the strange looks they gave him. He hadn’t been here since he’d received his four specialized weapons from Samantha herself. The first time he had ever come to the Science Division was also his last time.
That was six years ago. He had been fourteen at the time.
At the end of the hall, he came to a stop in front of a large set of steel double doors. They were twice his height, and nearly three times as wide as they were tall. There was a complex locking mechanism on the doors that consisted of circular protrusions. Several steel bars ran horizontally and diagonally across the door’s frame.
Standing in front of a pair of handprint scanners on either side of the door were two guards. They wore uniforms like those one might expect to see in the military or the police. Unlike most of the Executioners, who had a tendency to personalize their wardrobe, members of the various divisions wore normal uniforms. Members of the Security Division, like these two, had clothing that consisted of plain, dark-blue military fatigues and a long-sleeved button-up shirt of the same color. Strapped across their backs were advanced-looking automatic rifles.
“Identification?” one of them asked.
“Christian, identification number 0666906.”
“Hold on for a moment.” The one who had asked the question typed Christian’s identification number into a small touchscreen tablet. After a few seconds, the tablet beeped. “Confirmed. You’re allowed to enter.”
The two turned around and placed their hands on the scanners. After several seconds, there was a loud beep, followed by a clicking noise and some hissing as the hydraulics on the door kicked in. The four circular protrusions began to rotate. As they moved, the steel bars covering the door retracted into the walls, ceiling, and floor. Slowly, ponderously, the double doors broke apart.
“I don’t think I need to tell you this, but I would advise caution when you’re in there,” the guard on the left warned him.
“I’ll take that under advisement,” Christian said dryly. The Science Division was well known for creating incredibly dangerous items that were as harmful to the people using them as to those they were meant to be used against. There were actually more deaths in the Science Division than among the Warriors, Assassins, and Casteless combined.
As Christian crossed the threshold, the hallway opened into a monstrously sized room. The ceiling stood high above his head, covered in massive steel girders and a network of pipes. He didn’t know the exact measurements of the room itself, but it easily spanned the length and width of at least three football fields.
All around the room were dozens of people in lab coats. They appeared to be working on various technological advancements. Some held small, innocuous-looking devices; a cell phone, a ring, a necklace with a cross on it. None of the items looked particularly dangerous—until they detonated with enough concussive force to knock down everyone around them. Sometimes they exploded while still in the hands of the one developing them.
In other cases, he saw people testing a variety of firearms, including one woman who looked as if she was wielding a wrist-attached flamethrower. At least he thought it was a wrist-attached flamethrower. He couldn’t tell because the woman was running around, her body lit up like an out-of-control bonfire.
The loud vrooming of cars alerted Christian to the racetrack some several dozen meters away, where cars used for specific missions were tested. All the various types of vehicles they built had a number of armaments on them, including but not limited to machine guns, grenade launchers, jet propulsion systems, and rims that shot needles… needles that exploded on contact.
Just a few feet from him, one particular individual suddenly exploded in a spray of violence and gore that splattered against the floor. The man had been handling some kind of capsule, though just what it did was something that Christian couldn’t fathom, other than it being lethal.
Christian didn’t know how the people in this room could just continue about their business, as if nothing was wrong, when one of their number suddenly exploded in a display of blood and brain matter. A part of him was positive that he didn’t want to know, either.
“Ah, you must be Christian.”
Turning to the voice that called his name, Christian came face to face with a young man who couldn’t be much older than he was. Greasy blond hair reminded Caspian of Kirito, a character in a light novel that he'd read a few years back, whose hair was similar to that of a bird's nest. Inquisitive gray eyes stared at him from behind a pair of rectangular spectacles. Like every other member of the Science Division, he wore a lab coat.
“I’ve been expecting you. Samantha called ahead and let me know that you would be coming. My name is Sebastian Michaelis. It’s a pleasure,” the young man said, pushing his glasses up his nose with his index and middle finger.
“Pleased to make your acquaintance.” Christian nodded a greeting. He didn’t offer his hand to Sebastian, which appeared fine with Sebastian. A second later, Sebastian spun on his heel and beckoned Christian to follow him.
“I have been authorized to give you a weapon that I feel will be useful to you on your next mission.”
“So you know what my mission is?” Christian asked as they passed a scientist who appeared to be injecting himself with some kind of liquid. The man’s arm bulged beneath his lab coat seconds before the veins in his arm exploded violently, sending a shower of crimson blood splashing across the floor. Christian grimaced as the scientist began wailing. Sebastian just ignored it.
“Yes, yes, you’re being asked to kill a succubus.” Sebastian’s grin told Christian how amused this knowledge made him. “Difficult business that, especially for a man. You do know about their Aura of Allure, don’t you?”
“Of course.” Even if his job wasn’t the extermination of succubi, he had still learned about them. “The Aura of Allure is a trait that all succubi possess. Based on reports from experiments done by your division, succubi cannot turn it on or off, nor do they have any control over it. It’s a passive ability that attracts men by increasing the amount of pheromones in the air and is always active. No male has been able to resist, though we know through your division’s reports that the Aura of Allure doesn’t work on other supernatural creatures.”
“You are indeed correct.” Sebastian nodded. “It’s good to see someone who has done their homework. Another thing to note is that the Aura of Allure cannot be blocked or defended against, not by a man, at least. That’s why women are sent to kill succubi.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Christian muttered to himself. “I still don’t know why I’m being sent on this mission, in spite of the obvious danger posed.”
“I’m sure Samantha has her reasons.”
Christian wasn’t so sure that Samantha had any part in this mission, but he chose not to voice the thought. Some might consider such thoughts treasonous.
He f
ollowed Sebastian as the young scientist wove through a throng of experiments, all of which seemed to involve the use of enhancement drugs. Christian did his best to ignore the scientists he passed. Some of them looked like they were about to start rampaging across the room and kill everyone there, which was probably why they were tied to chairs with thick chains that not even an Ancestor could break.
That was one of the many inherent risks when using enhancement drugs; they often left those who used them feeling inexplicable amounts of rage and bloodlust.
“Anyway, it’s because of the succubus’s Aura that I need a weapon that can take my target out at range,” Christian determined. “I haven’t studied a succubus’s Aura of Allure in depth, but I know there is a limit to how far it can extend.”
“It depends on the succubus in question,” Sebastian told him. “Most succubi have a range of two dozen meters or so, but some can have a range as far as several kilometers, and a few only have a range of one or two meters.”
They exited the Research and Development lab and entered another hallway. It was much smaller than the hall Christian had entered through, and it was made of white tiles instead of cement. The walls on either side of him were lined with long, tinted windows that he could not see through. This, he knew, was where the weapons that passed inspection and were ready for use were stored.
“Come along.” Sebastian walked briskly down the hallway. Christian followed. They arrived at one of the many doors, which slid open as they reached it.
The room they entered was sterile. The walls, floor, and ceiling were all white. So was the table in the center of the room, and the large rectangular cabinets off to the side. The only color in the entire room, aside from them, were the many blinking lights located on the cabinets. It reminded Christian of a laboratory instead of storage space, or maybe even a morgue, morbid as the thought was.
“I have one weapon in particular that I think will be most useful to you for your next assignment.” Sebastian walked over to a cabinet and pressed his thumb against one of the blinking lights. He held it for two seconds. A beep sounded, followed by a hiss and several loud clicks. Grabbing onto the handle, the weapons developer pulled the cabinet open.
Reaching in, he pulled out a large gun, long and sleek, painted jet black.
The first thing that Christian noticed about the weapon was the scope on top. It didn’t look at all like a regular scope; it was square for one thing, and the lens looked more like a camera than an actual scope. The gun was also a bolt-action, meaning it could only fire a single shot, but it was lighter and more easily maintained than a semi-automatic. Unlike most guns, the barrel on this one was long, easily around twenty-four-inches, and possessed a heavier cross section, as well as external longitudinal fluting and a threaded muzzle. The stock at the end of the gun had been raised slightly to accommodate the high position of the scope.
Christian recognized the weapon, even if he had never used one. “That’s a sniper rifle.”
Sebastian adjusted his glasses once more. Christian didn’t know why, but he had this sudden urge to hit the young scientist. There was just something about that action that really bothered him.
“This is not just any sniper rifle. It’s based on the AS50. Of course, we have made several improvements and modifications to it. Its design is sleeker, it’s easier to carry, and you can take it apart in order to hide it inside a moderately sized suitcase.”
The young developer’s glasses gleamed almost ominously as he looked at the weapon.
“On top of that, this rifle is made of the same alloy used to create those guns and swords that you use. Because of its composition, it is not only far lighter than most weapons, but also cannot be detected by metal detectors.”
“So it’s made out of Orichalcum,” Christian hummed.
“Indeed it is.”
Orichalcum was a rare, valuable substance that could not be produced naturally. The Church had stumbled upon how to make it sometime in the sixteenth century, after arresting an alchemist named Robert Boyle, who had been attempting to create a Philosopher’s Stone by sacrificing several hundred humans. The method for creating Orichalcum had apparently been found in one of the many books written by Robert Boyle during his quest for immortality.
Christian was surprised they had built a weapon out of Orichalcum that wasn’t for a member of the XIII. He knew all of the other XIII members. Thus, he knew that none of them used sniper rifles in their missions.
Had this weapon been built for Sara Exalise before she was killed? Didn’t she use a bow and arrows?
“I’ve never used a sniper rifle before,” Christian said cautiously. The only guns he’d ever used were handguns.
“Not to worry.” Sebastian pointed at the large scope attached to the rifle. “This is the networked tracking scope. It has a tracking system known as the XactSystem. The scope contains a heads-up display that shows a variety of factors, such as wind speed and direction, target distance, gravity, the rotational velocity of the earth, and more. It also calculates when to fire for the most accurate shot.” He sent Christian a sly glance. “Even a complete novice like yourself can become as good a shot as most professional snipers when using this system.”
Christian grunted at the minor jab to his admittedly nonexistent sniper skills. It wasn’t his fault he’d never so much as touched a sniper rifle. He was a Warrior, not an Assassin; he’d never had any need to learn how to use a weapon like this.
“This weapon doesn’t seem all that dangerous compared to some of the other stuff I saw in the development lab,” he commented.
“Ah, well, that’s because I haven’t gotten to the good part yet.” Sebastien gave a mad-scientist sort of smile. “This weapon doesn’t just act as a sniper rifle, but a plastic explosive as well. If you ever need to leave somewhere in a hurry, and can’t take this with you, just press this red button by the ammo cartridge, and it will set a prime charge to explode the next time someone comes within one meter of it.”
Silence.
“It also has a blast radius of five square meters.”
More silence.
“Has anyone ever told you that you and everyone else in the Science Division are certifiably insane?” Christian asked.
“Many times.” Sebastian’s glasses glinted in the light as he pushed them up his nose.
Chapter 5
The simulation chamber located within the Executioners headquarters was unique. It used advanced holographic simulations to recreate the many scenarios their members might find themselves in when out in the field. Created and developed by a member of the Science Division several years before, it was the most advanced training ground in the world. There were only six others like it, each located in one of the main headquarters of the Executioners. Two were in America, while the others were in Africa, Italy, Russia, and Japan.
Christian had been using the simulation chamber for the past two days.
It had taken the form of a city. Imposing skyscrapers that reached for the heavens were all that could be seen for miles. Down below was a maze of streets filled with cars and pedestrians in equal measure.
He was lying on his stomach, on one of the many skyscrapers located within this holographic city. His sniper rifle sat in front of him on a tripod, and he was looking down its scope.
“‘Even a novice like yourself can use it,’ he said,” Christian grumbled as he continued adjusting his aim. “‘Nothing to worry about,’ he said. ‘It’s easy,’ he said.” The information on the HUD changed again, forcing him to adjust his aim… again. “This is the last time I listen to that crazy scientist.”
Contrary to what Sebastian had said, the XactSystem scope was not easy to use, nor was it user friendly. The heads-up display had so much information that it made Christian’s head spin. Not only that, it made him constantly readjust its settings, since the variables changed continuously. No matter how many times he changed the position of his rifle to account for the different many variables
that affected whether the bullet would reach its target, it still refused to give him the perfect shot.
He had been coming to this room each day to familiarize himself with his new weapon.
So far, he was not having any luck.
He hadn’t hit a single target.
“‘It’s the most user-friendly program a rifle could have,’ he said. ‘So easy to use even the most technologically deficient fool could master it with ease,’” Christian continued to grumble as he made minute adjustments to the tilt and direction of his new weapon. His eyes flickered around, glancing at the many different bits and pieces of information that flashed across his HUD. A change in the wind’s direction made him maneuver the sniper rifle a little to the right, and then a building appeared in front of him, blocking his shot. Clicking his tongue, he waited for the scope to account for this new variable. It shouldn’t take more than a second for it to―
“Hey, Christian!”
“Tch!”
The simulated world disappeared, and Christian found himself lying on the floor of a room that looked like the inside of a cube. Every surface was gray. Several lines of glowing blue ran across the surface, along with a number of small lights that followed the lines. The lines and lights created an intricate pattern of sharp angles that covered the entire room. Christian didn’t know how they worked, but he knew that these were the nodes that created the holographic constructs used in training simulations.
He let go of the sniper rifle, leaving it on the ground as he stood up. When he had finally gotten to his feet, he sent an annoyed glare toward the person who had interrupted his training.
“Tristin, what do you want?”
“Oh, man, that’s harsh.” Tristin, despite his words, did not look the least bit upset. Actually, he wore a large, face-splitting grin. “And here I thought you’d be happy to see me. Especially since I was going to ask if you wanted to join me and my new girlfriend for dinner tonight.”
“I’ll pass,” Christian said dryly.
Tristin simply laughed off Christian’s clipped reply. “That’s so like you, Christian. Colder than winter in the Arctic. You really should get out more. Being cooped up in this place except when you’re not on missions can’t be good for you.” His eyes lit up a second later. “I know! We should get you a nice girl to settle down with.”
Succubus Page 4
