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Shadow of the Moonlight I
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by
Vezild
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Fiction
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| Submitted on 11/23/2009 |
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Skip
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Chapter 1: Two Stories
The breeze in the Central Park was cool, but bearable. It was dark, about 12:00 A.M. to be precise. A man in a cape walked down the trail, whistling his favorite tune. His shadow moved irregularly, as if it had trouble following its owner.
A growl sounded nearby. The moonlight eerily lit up the area, although some trees hung too close for comfort. A feral-like creature walked out of a nearby bush, eyeing the man viscously. The man froze, his eyes looking down to the cobble-stones that made up the path. Seeing that its prey was not protecting itself, the creature pounced on the man. Soon, the trail was soaked in blood. But not your normal blood. No, this blood was violet…
The shadow popped out of the ground. The creature looked up to the sky. Its eyes shrunk in fear. Despite this, though, it growled and barked. The shadow now stood in front of the animal. It stretched out its right arm. It had silver gauntlet covering the lower part. The moonlight reflected off the glove, allowing the shadow’s face to be shone. It was young, the age of eighteen, and flawless. He opened one eye. It shone like a clear night sky, as the whites of his eyes were in fact black. The iris was gray, though. He wore a cloak which covered half of his face down to his legs with semi-big sleeves. He had black Converse All-Stars to make himself blend more with the humans.
The creature growled louder. The shadow-like man smiled, showing his fang-like teeth. His right arm reached down to the hilt of his sword, sheathed in a fine ebony and silver scabbard. The creature lunged at his head, which had thin, messy, light-blue hair. The man unsheathed his sword, which was slightly curved, but had the guard of a rapier. It was a cross between a katana and a rapier, to be exact.
The man walked away, sheathing his sword and tossing a talon on his hand. The path behind him was soaked in purple blood, draining out of the severely injured creature. Another sighting in Central Park? This is…interesting. Central Park looks like a haven for these creatures. He dusted his white cloak, leaving it extremely clean.
His phone rang. “Hello?”
“Nocturn?” inquired the woman at the other side.
Nocturn’s thoughts froze. “Viola. Did you find…”
“Yes, and it is not going too well. Five of our soldiers died.”
“How many injured?” He noticed that she held her breath before she continued.
“…Three hundred and twenty-two.”
He clutched his phone more tightly, threatening to crush it between his metallic fingers.
“Three hundred and twenty-two? How the…?”
“I don’t know! We are still evacuating right now.” She sighed. “How did he get so powerful?”
“I don’t know, Viola. I don’t know.” Nocturn sank into a park bench. His legs felt numb. He switched the phone into his normal, left hand.
“Did you find the creature?”
“Yes. The Lionne has been neutralized.”
“Great! Mission accomplished then.”
“Very well.” Nocturn closed the line, looked up to the sky, blew out a chilly breath, and vanished from the park…
…and reappeared in his suite. Nobody knew he existed, except for a few humans and most of the Dieu de la Mort. Nocturn was ranked twenty-seven of the organization, which had about two million members. Like everyone else in the organization, Nocturn walked among the unknowing people, prowling on supernatural beings that wish to bring harm to them. Pheh, he would think. These humans don’t know how vulnerable they really are. He turned on the television at the end of the suite, which had a large view of the city. Nocturn took a look outside, looking for any energy anomalies until Albany. Nothing. Thank goodness. The President of the United States was giving her speech on the war in Russia, again. “Let’s see what Jane has to say now.” Unbeknownst to the humans, Jane Silinkiar of Rhode Islamd was actually one of the Morts. Her rank is unknown to him, but is probably in one of the top ten.
“…the president of Russia is still refusing to cooperate with us.”
“And how about the soldiers?” inquired a journalist.
“When are they coming home?” asked another.
“We are not sure about when they will come home, but the soldiers are fighting on hard.
They are mostly veterans from the last war.”
“What are we going to do with Afghanistan?”
“We are looking into that as of right now. We are negotiating with other countries for funds.”
“What about you scandal with a senator?”
“This should be good,” said Nocturn to himself as he crunched on a potato chip. The crowd around the president roared. Jane stood shocked at her pedestal. The vice president, Julian Lorsten (the first Hispanic vice president of the United States), rank ten, pushed Jane lightly off the pedestal.
“This is not the time for gossip! What is your news channel? I’ll have you fired by tomorrow,” retorted Julian. He walked off the pedestal. The crowd relaxed, taking their disgusted faces off of the ashamed journalist’s face.
“Thank you, Julian,” thanked Jane. Nocturn could not have blamed anyone for having a scandal with Jane. She was the most beautiful woman on the face of the Earth. With dark red hair, sparkling blue eyes, flawless tanned skin, and a beautiful figure, with a bright and smart attitude. Unfortunately for him, Julian was an imposingly handsome, fairly muscular man. He had silky black hair, black eyes, and a Hispanic accent.
“What do you think about the increased rumors about supernatural phenomenon?”
“The-they are pure nonsense. This meeting will come to a close, thank you for your questions.”
The crowd roared once again as Julian and Jane walked off with a wall of security, nightsticks and guns flashing, to the exit of the large conference room. A very elderly Wolf Blitzer came into view in the screen.
“Very interesting. Well, for the last time, this is Wolf Blitzer in the Situation Room, and this is CNN.” Nocturn changed the channel to Comedy Central; the crude jokes from the channel empowered his Oscuro magic.
The door bell sounded. Nocturn turned off the television, grabbed his scabbard, and then walked to the door. The door bell rang again. Unsheathing the sword, he opened the door, raising the blade into the air. “Nocturn, calm down!”
“Viola.”
“What? Are you that jumpy?”
“No, no. Come in, sorry.” Nocturn moved out of the way, allowing Viola to come in. She was a petite woman of nineteen. She was a brunette with cool, green eyes. She wore a casual white dress with a green scarf around her neck. Her heels barely made a sound as she walked down the laminated wooden floor. “Wow. It has been quite a while since I’ve been to your place.”
“Yeah.”
“Nocturn.”
“Hm?”
“I missed you!” cried Viola. She walked up and hugged Nocturn, who stood awkwardly. “I’ve been so alone in the hunt for...him!”
“I’ve…missed you too.” It sounded more like a question than a reply.
“So, what have you been doing in all this time? Do you mind if I…?”
“Go ahead. I’ve just been hunting down creatures, as always. I was just watching the
speech from Jane. That scandal thing’s been rallying up some daring journalists. Julian even had to use threats of firing journalists for gossiping.”
“Well.” Viola took off her white jacket and the scarf.
“Wolf’s retiring.”
“Really?”
“He’s served the Morts well enough, right? You want something to drink?”
“No, thank you. I wonder what he is going to do.”
“Probably bask in his wealth, just like every retired Mort.” Nocturn drank a can of Coke.
“Doesn’t that stuff bother you?”
“Nah. I got used to the fizz. Anyway, what are we going to do to manage with the…casualties?”
“I am not sure. My Muzyka magic can’t heal.”
“Right. Sit down, sit down. You look exhausted.”
“Ugh. More than ever! I’ve had to sit there and watch our agents die. And I had to be there for a trial on one of our other agents.”
“Who?”
“John Kingston. He was accused of spreading rumors.”
“That tell-tale. Which reminds me: these humans are really strange. Look at this pamphlet.” Nocturn slapped a booklet that was titled “The Tell-Tale Heart, by Edgar Allen Poe”.
“Reading human literature? What did you think about it?”
“Confusing. Why would a human kill somebody because of their eye?”
“I guess some humans are just insane.”
Another door ring. Nocturn grabbed his scabbard, but Viola told him to put it back down. Without the sword, Nocturn walked to the door and opened it. “Is this Nocturn von Shwarze?” asked the man at the other side. He was tall with straight, black hair. His eyes were demonic, just like Nocturn’s, with red irises. He wore a black tunic and black pants. His booted feet stood firm on the floor.
“Ignus?” mumbled Nocturn.
The tall figure looked around behind Nocturn. He noticed Viola, who looked back weirdly. “I
am sorry. I hadn’t known that you were…busy.”
Nocturn’s face burned, but his cheeks did not change color. “Not at all. What is it?”
“Your rank up is coming. You may take one other person with you. I will be waiting downstairs.” Ignus turned around and marched down the stairs.
Nocturn turned towards Viola. “Wanna go?”
“Sure,” replied Viola cheerily. She put on her jacket and her scarf. “Let’s go.”
The two walked down the stairs. “Nocturn!” called a round man from behind.
“Go with Ignus. I’ll catch up,” said Nocturn to Viola. As she turned, he looked at the small, round man.
“How ya doing? Man, how long has it been since I’ve actually talked to ya?”
“A day ago, Frank.”
“Oh. Man, time’s going slow. World’s falling apart, eh?”
“Hmph.”
“Anyway, just here to congratulate you for...err…that girl.”
Again, Nocturn heated up. “What? We’re just friends.”
“Sure.” Frank poked Nocturn with his elbow. “Sure. Hey, if you need complete silence, lemme know. Free of charge, of course.”
“Um, thanks?”
“Anytime, my boy. Anytime.”
“Well, Frank, I have to go now.”
“Yeah, yeah. Go on with your date, hehe.”
Nocturn tried to smile (despite his cloak covering his mouth, and the sweat on his forehead), and went for the exit. He was fond of Frank, but the man is too tied to earth.
“Ready?” snorted Ignus.
“Yes.”
“Good.” Ignus snapped his fingers. A vortex appeared on the sidewalk, sucking in the trio.
Earlier…
Viola walked down the marble steps of the court, which should have been closed. For humans, at least. John Kingston was found guilty and was demoted to rank three hundred and fifty. She sighed briefly as she called the only man she could trust in New York: Nocturn.
“Hello?” he greeted after a few moments.
“Nocturn?”
“Viola. Did you find…”
“Yes, and it isn’t going very well,” she sighed. She tried to keep the images of men and women barely escaping with their lives. “Five of our soldiers died.” She bit her lip to get ready for the oncoming question.
“How many injured?”
She held her breath for a moment. “Three hundred and twenty-two.”
He repeated her, then added, “How the...?”
“I don’t know! We are still evacuating civilians from lower Manhattan right now. How did he get so…powerful?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did you find the creature?” she asked, trying to forget the guilt. It’s my fault that all of this is happening!
“Yes. The Lionne has been neutralized.”
“Great! Mission accomplished, then?” Without saying goodbye, Nocturn hung up on the other side. Viola has gotten used to his rash behavior. In fact, she was infatuated with the secretive, quiet young man. It was more of a fan-girl crush when they were younger, but she has become closer to him. She longed to hold him in her arms, touch his light blue hair. His eyes (which he covered up with the excuse of being internally diseased with a rare but minor virus that causes blackness of the sclera) were easy to be captivated by. But that claw (which he excused as a cast from a secretive doctor who lives deep in New Jersey) had always frightened her. She always felt that he would rip her apart with it. His other features, though, were enough to distract her from such notions. He lived just a few blocks away.
To distract her from any dark thoughts (i.e. predators and murderers) she tried to remember Nocturn’s real voice. She only talked to him over the phone for five months. It was young and laid-back, like a beach in a tropical island at nighttime. It was chilly that night, typical for the fall in New York. She did not understand why people loved it so much when she first arrived there, but the city had grown on her.
Her heels click-clacked on the cement of the sidewalk. The Empire State Building towered, shining in red, white, and green, just like in most days. She imagined standing up there, alone with Nocturn. She soon noticed that she was pacing herself too fast. But what did that matter? She was going to see him again for the first time in five months!
After about twenty minutes, she arrived at the building. A doorman bowed slightly and opened the door for her. Mouthing “thanks”, she walked inside. A round man came down in front of her, smiling gently.
“How can I help you, miss?” he greeted. “I am Francis Skotely. But, just call me Frank.”
“Thank you, Frank. I was looking for a Nocturn von Shwarze?”
“He lives at the fourth floor, Suite 456, but may I ask who you are? Cuz, I gotta know. I’m fond of the boy, y’know?”
Viola giggled under her breath.
“Sorry about my language.”
“It’s okay. I’m tired of people speaking to me so formally. Anyway, I am Viola Easton. Call me Vi, if you want.”
“Well, it is nice to meet ya, Vi. I’ll send you up right now.” Frank turned and picked up a phone at a desk. Another man in uniform walked down, bowed slightly, and motioned for Viola to follow him.
The two walked up a set of stairs to the fourth landing, towards Suite 456. The man bowed again, Viola thanked him.
She looked at the door, breathed deeply, then rang the door bell. Nocturn opened the door, with his katana-rapier hybrid raised in the air. “Nocturn, calm down!”
“Viola?”
“What, are you that jumpy?”
“Sorry.” He motioned her to come in. “Nocturn.”
Nocturn was scratching his head in confusion. “Hm?”
“I’ve missed you!” She hugged him, pressing her head at his chest. It was like a moment in heaven, except the fact that Nocturn stood awkwardly in her arms. After a brief few seconds, she let go. Her thoughts raced. When should I tell him? How would he react? Does he even like me? Does he think that I am some sort of pest? She bit her lip.
“I’ve…missed you too?”
Despite his response being rather uncertain, she couldn’t help but smile. He can’t hide his feelings. She took off her scarf and the jacket. “So, what have you been doing?”
He started to talk about how he was hunting creatures, Wolf Blitzer, rank eleven, retiring, and the rumored scandal between Steven Kit, a human, and Jane Silinkiar, ranked highly in the Dieu de la Mort. Jane Silinkiar, Viola thought angrily. You’re standing in my way from Nocturn. Viola could not hate Jane, though. She admired the high ranking agent for her wise personality and being utterly beautiful. Nocturn drank from a can of Coke. The carbonated water stings them fatally, but Nocturn seems to be the only one who can tolerate it. “What are we going to do with the casualties?”
“I don’t know! My Muzyka magic can’t heal!”
“Right. Sit down, you look exhausted.”
“Ugh! More than ever! I’ve had to sit there and watch our agents die. And I had to be there for
a trial on one of our other agents.”
“Who?”
“John Kingston. He was accused of spreading rumors.”
“That tell-tale. Which reminds me.” Nocturn muttered something and slapped a pamphlet that was titled, “The Tell-Tale Heart by Edgar Allen Poe”. That was one of the stories that proved that the capacity limit for fear that the humans have was pathetically low.
“What did you think about it?”
“Confusing. Why would a human kill another because of their eyes?”
“Some humans are just insane.”
“Hmph.” The door bell rang. Nocturn got up, and then reached for his scabbard.
“Don’t.”
Sighing, Nocturn went for the door. A tall figure stood at the other side.
“Nocturn von Shwarze?” asked the man.
“Ignus?”
Ignus’s eyes turned towards Viola who was stretching and looking back weirdly. “I am sorry. I hadn’t known you were…busy.”
Nocturn jolted for a split second.
Viola smiled slightly, but also awkwardly. I would never indulge in such perversion. But how about Nocturn? Is he as pure as I believed? She shook her head gently. Of course he is! Ignus walked off after speaking to Nocturn for a moment.
Nocturn turned. “Wanna go?”
Viola, who was lost in her thoughts, looked up, pretending to know what he was talking about, and then replied, “Sure.” She put on her scarf and white jacket and then nodded, motioning for the door. It’ll be like a sort of date, she thought cheerily.
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Title:
Shadow of the Moonlight I
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Artist:
Vezild
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Description:
Restart of Nocturnal Arsenal. You can still read the original story in my gallery, but I like this restart more. It still follows Nocturn von Shwarze, but is told in a new environment: New York City. It is a hot-spot for paranormal activity along with Washington DC, Tokyo in Japan, and the country of Russia in the story. Ignus, Nocturn, and Viola return for this restart. HOPE YOU ENJOY AND COMMENT!!
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Date:
11/23/2009
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Tags:
shadow
moonlight
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