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Rated: 13+ · Chapter · Mystery · #1178394
Further introduction of "The Organisation", and setting the story between characters
Chapter Two: Allowance

          The package on Jameson’s shoulder was growing steadily heavy as he waiting impatiently for the large gates to open. Creaking in the wind, the wrought iron gates that marked entry into The Organisation’s realm were cold and gothic. Not what you’d expect for a Japanese Boarding School. But, nonetheless, they still acted well enough to keep away solicitors, door-to-door salesman (though, those people would probably have been shot anyway) and any unwanted intruders.
          When those giant gates had finally finished their slow and creaking journey open, Jameson walked through. He heard the gates echoing along the grounds as they slowly began to close. Shifting the weight of the package onto his right shoulder, Jameson began to make his way up the long path towards the mansion atop the hill.
          The moon was casting long shadows across the grounds; the trees loomed over him; much larger than they normally were. Even though he knew these grounds very well, Jameson couldn’t help but admit to himself that sometimes, the home of The Organisation was a bit… creepy. Several lights were on in the large building before him, the man grinned at the thought of what his prize would be on returning this bundle of cloth, he felt as if fate really was on his side; what a catch!
          As he neared The Building, Jameson pulled out a card from an inner pocket of his jacket. The giant oak doors that stood between Jameson and the warm innards of the building loomed up high, peering down at the man before them with scrutinizing power. But when Jameson slid his card through the slot on the metallic box attached to the frame, the doors had to bow down to his will and allow him to warm himself up in the heat of the main hall.
          People could be heard running about on the floor above. His eyes scanned the ceiling, following the sound. He stopped and listened as hurried footsteps from the floor above ran towards where he knew the stairs were. And, within a few seconds, he could hear the footsteps hurrying down the stairs. Here she comes… the man smiled, and he stood, waiting for the shadow to appear against the walls. Almost here... she was coming closer, he could now see her shadow, stretched across the walls, hear her footsteps, running hard… she was coming, coming to see him…
          But instead of the gorgeously sexy woman, waiting in her skimpy silvery dress, was Senshi. Jameson’s left eyebrow twitched unappreciatively. Senshi took this pause to pelt down the stairs, and come skidding to a halt in front of Jameson.
          “How is she?” he panted. “Is she okay?” the boy looked genuinely concerned. Jameson looked at him, a mixture of amusement and annoyance etched across his face.
          “She’s fine.” He said briskly, brushing Senshi aside, “Now if you will please get out of my way.” He started to walk, hard backed, towards the large marble staircase.
          “Where are you taking her?” the boy called after his retreating back.
          “I’m taking her to the top.” Said the man in a bored tone, “Yariman wants to see her.” And smiling to himself, the man began to climb the steps. But the boy wouldn’t relent.
          “Yariman wants to see her?” the boy sounded shocked. Well he should be, thought the man; the boy’s too stupid to get his head around the fact. “Why does Yariman want to see her?” Jameson turned, and looked at Senshi straight in the eye. He glared coldly, and Senshi glared just as coldly back. They stood there frozen for a few seconds, neither one speaking a word. Though he was frowning, and though the skin around his eyes was crinkled, Senshi’s eyes themselves were cold and defiant. They were so deep, so detesting and hateful that Jameson couldn’t help but smirk.
          “Why do you think Yariman wants to see her?” he said back, “What possible reason could your tiny, pathetic little brain come up with, boy?” he asked, almost spitting out the last word. The boy’s lips tightened, they were pure white, and it looked as though he were trying to hold back something he wanted to shout out loud. “Didn’t you even see the girl’s hands? Are you so inefficient in your work that you didn’t notice the weapon she was carrying? The blood staining her clothes, her hands; the snow around her? Perhaps even the… now I know its hard to notice this, but maybe the… hundred of dead bodies lying around her? Are you telling me you noticed none of this?”
          The boy’s hand flew instantly to the gun in his right pocket.
          “Don’t you even think of it.” Jameson growled from the back of his throat.. He straightened the fingers on his right hand and a gun suddenly slid from the sleeve of his jacket, into his waiting grip. The boy hadn’t even started to pull the gun from its holster. “Senshi, I really wouldn’t think of doing that. Shooting you right now would leave an awful mess and I really cannot be bothered with the fuss of cleaning up your brains – god forgive you have any – from the stair well.” The boy, Senshi, slowly ground his teeth, and then loosened his grip on his gun. “That-a-boy.” The man said, mockingly, ruffling the Senshi’s hair. “Now be a good boy,” he said, slapping Senshi’s cheeks “and bugger off.”
          With that, the man turned round and proceeded to climb the stairs. He was smiling to himself, he didn’t know why exactly, he didn’t really feel that there was that much to smile about, feeling almost ashamed of having acted so childishly, Jameson could only focus on that look on Senshi’s face; filled his cold heart with glee. He couldn’t hear the boy following him, but then, suddenly, from right behind him.
          “Hey, Jameson, say that again to my fa-” but Senshi never even got to finish his threat before Jameson had whipped round, grabbed hold of the boy’s wrist and wrenched it tight. Senshi gave a gasp of surprised pain.
          “I am warning you,” growled the man, “Don’t you ever, ever, call me by that name again. You hear me?” Senshi didn’t answer, his eyes were screwed tight, and his mouth was gaping open, every few seconds he would gasp in pain. “I said; Do you hear me?!” he squeezed the wrist even tighter and twisted it a few more notches. “Do you?”
          “Yes! Yes, I do!” Senshi screamed. Jameson relinquished his grip on Senshi’s arm.
          “Good, now that we have reached an understanding.” Jameson said in a business-like tone, straightening up, and flattening his shirt with his free hand. “You return to your quarters, and don’t even think of following me.” He turned round and walked briskly up the stairs, he did not hear Senshi follow him at all. Confident and smug, Jameson walked up several flights of stairs, holding the bundle of cloth to his chest.
          The cameras dotted in every corner of the great mansion followed him with unblinking eyes, and watching the screens, watching over the entire building, was a man. In the darkness of his office, sat Yariman in his armchair, twiddling his cigar in between his fingers; watching as Jameson drew ever closer to his door. After a few minutes, he saw the man stop at a large wooden door, he saw, and heard the man knock.
          “Come in.” his voice was hard and cracked, his small eyes looked over to the door to see Jameson, in all his pride, enter the room. In the corner of his eye, he observed the same thing happening on the screen, and smiled as he saw himself momentarily on the screen.
          Jameson closed the door, and found himself in a dark room, filled with television screens. At one far side was a desk, it was covered in sheets of paper, and an unattended computer sat on the desk, humming happily. The man stood from his chair, though very little difference was made, Yariman was a short man; he was stout and balding, he was wearing small tiny glasses that resembled Ozzy Osbourne’s, he was wearing a suit blazer, but underneath was a dirty vest. He was wearing black jeans that were tight, filthy and repulsive. He certainly did not resemble the respectful and powerful man he had appeared to be when Jameson had last seen him, standing at the top of the stairs, addressing a very large troop of people, including himself, who were waiting to go out on a dangerous mission.
          “So this is she, is it?” asked Yariman, peering at the bundle in Jameson’s arms. “This is… the one. Ooh, doesn’t that sound dramatic?” he said, laughing, “The… the prophesised one! Haha!” Jameson had to suddenly hold his breath to stop himself vomiting at the taste and smell of Yariman’s breath. “Lay her down on the table.” Yariman said excitedly, sweeping a large pile of books and sheets of paper onto the floor. Raising his eyebrows slightly, Jameson laid the bundle upon the table.
          The roll of cloth fell open, revealing the girl, no older than four, curled up asleep. She was very small, with hair as black as a raven, tumbling down around a beautifully sweet round face. Her skin was tanned light brown. “Beautiful…” whispered Yariman. Despite his name, Yariman was not of oriental origins, it was a name many Japanese villagers had called him, and the name had stuck.
          The girl slowly opened her eyes. Her eyes were dark, yet cold. They were already filled with the hatred it would take a man many years to gain. “Amazing…” whispered Yariman. He stared at the girl, as her consciousness returned slowly. “It’s alright.” He whispered. He stroked her cheek softly, and the girl relaxed slowly, her eyes looked hazy and she settled back down to sleep. Jameson raised his eyebrows, impressed with Yariman’s parenting skills, but then he noticed the needle that had been silently inserted into her leg.
          “Sir…” Jameson began.
          “Who was the one to bring her in?” Yariman cut across Jameson, his eyes were looking around the room as though expecting someone to jump out with a giant sign shouting “ME!!”
          “I was.” Jameson said, puffing out his chest slightly. Yariman looked at Jameson for a second, and then threw back his head and laughed out loud, sending spittle flying. “You…” Yariman chuckled, “You were sent to pick her up, after she had been found and saved. I want to know about is the boy found the girl.” He glared at Jameson, and though he was nearly twice Yariman’s height, he actually felt a twinge of fear. Sighing, Jameson’s eyes briefly scanned the room again. “Who is Senshi?”
          “A boy, in my division. He’s one of the best, well, I taught him everything, sir, it’s thanks to me that he was skilful enough to find and help this girl, almost as efficiently as I would have done.”
          “If you are trying to redeem your dignity in my eyes,” Yariman said snidely, “Don’t worry. You have none.”
          “This boy…” Jameson growled through his teeth, “His name is Senshi. He is… a very skilful kid – ”
          “And he’s standing right outside this door.” Said Yariman, grinning, showing off his yellow teeth. Jameson’s eyes widened, his mouth dropped open; “What?!” his eyes flew to the televisions screens, and yes, on more than one of the screens he could see the boy standing at the door, now backing away slowly.
          Furious, Jameson ran to the door and flew it open. “What the hell are you doing?!” he yelled at the top of his voice, “You must never come up to this level. This area is forbidden. Do you understand me?” Senshi didn’t answer, he was too stunned to say anything. Enraged, Jameson rushed forwards and grabbed him by the hair.
          Pulling his head back, he yelled into Senshi’s face; “I said; Do… You… Hear… ME?!” Senshi yelled in pain and twisted, trying to get free. His fist was rising slowly, as though about to strike Jameson.
          “Now, now.” Yariman said quietly, “This is no way for two, great, comrades to be treating each other. You should not be fighting; this is a time for celebration, for this is the start of great times for The Organisation. We cannot possibly hope to win a war if we are having on in our own ranks! And also…” he added as an after comment, “If you get any blood on the walls, I will kill you both.”
          “But sir,” Senshi screeched, “What are you going to do to her?”
          Yariman cocked an eyebrow. “Showing concern for a child? It seems you need more training.” Jameson’s eyes lit up.
          “Yes, sir. Yes, he most certainly does.” He let go of Senshi's hair; Senshi threw himself back and took many steps away from the two men. “I don’t think he is well trained enough to be on these sort of missions, perhaps he should go back to basic training…”
          “Yet… just two minutes ago,” Yariman mused, “You said he was as skilful as yourself, if you are both equal, how can I send one back for basic training, without the other. Besides, this boy is the one who brought us this girl.”
          “Sir,” Senshi said, “Excuse my rudeness, but what are you going to do to that girl?” Jameson’s eyes flashed warningly, and Yariman’s lip curled.
          “She’ll be faced with many tests. For you see boy, there are many special things about this girl, one of which is her blood.”
          “Blood?” Senshi breathed in sharply as realisation dawned on him. All those previous missions, all those countless deaths, everything, had it really? Could it really?
          “Yes, her blood. Now, Senshi… is it? Yes, well, Senshi, I’m afraid it is not within your best knowledge to know anymore. However, this girl is going to become a member of our great family, and her adviser shall be none other than our own Jameson.” Jameson’s eyes registered shock.
          “Sir… seriously?”
          “Seriously.” Yariman nodded. “You will be the one watching over this girl as she grows.” Senshi’s mind whirled; Jameson? Jameson was going to look after this little, helpless girl? He beat children; he was cruel and hateful! She couldn’t be left with him! “Now, I think it is time you left our presence, Senshi.” Senshi’s bottom lip trembled; he was fighting the temptation with all his strength, but it wouldn’t hold.
          “Sir!” he blurted out. Yariman looked at him, eyebrows raised. “Sir… do you think it is possible for me to be this girl’s adviser? I am of age, and have received nothing but the highest marks in all tests, and I have yet to fail one mission.” Jameson swelled; his chest expanded, and his hands slowly balled into fists.
          “Actually, I think it would be better if I was to be this girl’s adviser.” He said smugly, looking at Yariman for support.
          “Are you aware that you are out of line?” Yariman said quietly. “However, I too do not know if this would be a smart move.”
          “Yes sir, you’re right. Absolutely right.” Jameson said smugly, “It would be a terrible idea, Senshi is only just of age and however good his test and mission results have been, I do not feel that his maturity level is up to the standards required for such a time consuming and stressful task. However, my results have been nothing less than perfect and my maturity level, is as we all know; at an all – ”
          “Jameson?”
          “Yes sir?”
          “Shut up.” Yariman turned back to Senshi. He looked suddenly interested. “Senshi… what is your surname?” it was a few seconds before Senshi answered, and after he gave his surname, Yariman laughed. “Oh really?” he chuckled to himself. “Is that so? Well, Senshi, I think it would be a splendid idea for you to be this child’s adviser and guardian.”
          Senshi gasped. “T-t-thank you s-sir!” he sputtered.
          “Do well, she is going to be a handful.” Senshi nodded grinning beside himself.
          “I will sir, I promise.” He grinned stupidly, and began to make his way down the corridor. Yariman nodded and signalled that Senshi could leave. Jameson, fuming, followed after him. He came very close to giving Yariman a scowl as he passed.
          “Oh and Jameson?” Yariman called after him. Jameson turned round, his eyes were alight, and a slight curl had returned to his lips. “Your fly’s down.”
© Copyright 2006 Catterix (catterix at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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