Firstly, before anything, I want to apologize for not uploading immediately. I have had the worst writer’s block for some time now. Anyways, as hinted at in the last chapter, this chapter begins to explain the hunters. It is very short, some of the whys and whats are deliberately left out, to make later chapters more interesting. as a result, and in trying to post something – anything really – I left this chapter incredibly incredibly short. Now, scheduling, I am going to try to get new Colony chapters posted every Monday and my new story will, as promised, begin this month. originally, I was going to post it on the first, but that didn’t work (writer’s block is tough when the intention is to get 20 pages per chapter, as in the new story) so I will post at the end of the month instead. please continue to bear with us!!
Sorin Herling
June 1, 5 years prior to the Fall
I surveyed the room in front of me. There were about forty or so college students in the room, along with a few who appeared a bit younger. I knew most of the college students, they were students from the classes I taught. Among the younger kids, there were many I knew with my interactions at various local high schools. One of the college boys, a lazy kid by the name of Edward, was sitting close to a bored looking boy I placed at about high-school age. Most of the kids in the room were here to boost their personal image, and they therefore fit the mold of the traditional punks and outcasts that had come to follow my various ideals. Many of them had piercings and tattoos, oddly colored hair and dark clothes. Everywhere I looked there were Union Jacks and the A for anarchy. Some of the kids here meant it, others were fakes. Either way, I could use that sentiment.
I had called together this meeting of young men and women to form an anarchical society; not that I really believed in anarchy. I was here informally, myself, the various captains I had gathered about myself were mingling with the others, telling them my “vision” of the future in deliberately unstructured fashion.
Only the boy next to Edward looked different from the others. As I examined him it occurred to me that the boredom in his expression did not quite reach his eyes, which flashed around the room, examining and sizing up everyone in sight. This kid was studying every facet of the room with intensity. Unlike the others, he looked fairly normal. In fact he looked almost too prissy to associate with the people around him. Hair cropped in military fashion and wearing a polo and khakis, the kid looked like he had had a very proper upbringing of the kind so stifling that he looked down upon those around him.
He sat in the corner, his head resting on one hand with the other hand gripping his bag with intensity. It was clear that he was primed and ready to bolt. The way he bore himself, supplely and with a comfort foreign to the obvious tensing in his muscles, reminded me of some of the undercover agents who sometimes trailed me. Speaking of which, I needed to leave. This was the first convention of the Order of the Hunters, but I, Drake, their leader in the shadows, could not be among them. I needed to get back to my office now, before the authorities noticed that I was missing.
Verbal Realms 