Denzel was a man of skill, an expert in his field. It was no wonder then, that instead of sleeping that night, he stayed up wondering how he managed to miss Teuril from such close quarters. “It was just a bad shot” he reassured himself over and over until the sun finally began to splinter across the earth, and Denzel Avens was yet again made to get up and see his boss.
Skipping breakfast, he proceeded to get dressed hurriedly, throwing on a brand new jacket and grabbing the nearest watch to him. He headed down to his sleek silver Audi R8, making sure he wasn’t being watched or followed; In his line of work, it was particularly easy to make enemies, so Denzel was always cautious of his surroundings.
After 20 minutes of driving through some of the most covert routes Denzel has ever seen, he reached his bosses headquarters, and as he rolled up quietly to the door, he could have sworn he saw a glimpse of someone run away into the nearby woods. Someone or something.
Snapping out of his daze, he swiftly moved to the door and knocked three times, slowly and exactly, always striking the exact same position. The door swung open and a tall, bold, executive looking man stepped out and grabbed Denzel’s hand, pulling him into the rather violent handshake Denzel had grown accustomed to every time he met with this man. The man of course, was his boss, A Mr O’Neil. Originally from Ireland, he moved to London after the murder of his wife and children and began a business in assassination. Denzel had always been fond of Mr O’Neil. Everyone always expected him to be some crazy bloodthirsty man, but really he was just a human being with a terrible, corrupted past.
Finally releasing his grip, he looked at Denzel and said peacefully “Lets go for a walk. We need to talk.” He began to pace away slowly, staying just close enough to Denzel so they could talk face to face. “How did it go?” Asked O’Neil slowly and quietly, looking rather far off. “Fine, Mensuta is gone, nobody is left to bring back the Celands.” Replied Denzel, a light grin forming on his face, only to be shattered by O’Neil’s next words. “They are already back.”
For the next 7 minutes or so, Denzel found it almost impossible to form a complete sentence. “Bu..Wha..Whe..” he stuttered repetitively, eventually stopped by O’Neil, who slowly raised a finger to Denzel’s lips in a quietening manner. “Yes, they are back. Mensuta, it would seem, was but a distracting to lure us away from the real culprit.”
Denzel, who was finding this information hard to digest, decided to sit down on a nearby stump due to the fact he felt as if he was about to collapse. “Listen, I’m going to leave you to let it sink in. I’ll send an assistant along to look after you.” Said O’Neil, patting Denzel on the shoulder and walking away. Approximately 1 minute later, a tall, cheery looking girl strode across the compound towards Denzel. He stood to greet her, when suddenly his eyes blanked and Denzel’s legs gave way.
He awoke with a start, flinging his upper body forwards violently. “Calm down, you have suffered some form of mental breakdown and shaking around like a mad man isn’t going to help.” Said a soft, girlish voice. Denzel swung around to see the assistant from before, who passed him a glass of freezing cold water. “Thanks” He coughed out, downing the glass of water quickly. ”Mr Avens?” Said the assistant “Yes?” Replied Denzel, wiping a small bit of blood from his forehead “I..I was wondering if you could tell me about the Celands.” She questioned, sounding almost ashamed to ask. Denzel cracked his neck violently and rested his head on his knuckles. “Where to begin” he said with a resentful twinge to his voice.