"The Fall" - Chapter Zero (Complete and Revised) - "A Hollow Cost" (Adult Content)
The Fall
Chapter Zero
A Hollow Cost
"You have to do something."
Throwing his head over his shoulder, Adam's sight was captured by an innumerable swarm of pleading eyes.
"You must to do something," they petitioned again, their voices bleeding through a jarring ensemble of trumpets.
An intuitive whisper compelled Adam to turn around and face the purple mist. A cold sensation within his right hand invited the young man to look down, allowing him to discover the ornate long sword held tightly in his grasp.
The disconcerted horde urged him once more. "Do something, Adam!"
With his sword high and his breath low, Adam began to push forward into the thickness of the mist. The incongruous sound of trumpets grew louder with each step, and were soon accompanied by the booming of footsteps. The ground began to tremble in fear, provoking Adam to lose his footing. Falling to his knees, he covered his ears and began to crawl upon the shaking Earth atop his elbows. A monstrous bellow raged in the distance, urging the newly inspired hero to climb back unto an upright position. Adam's hands returned to his ears as he was besieged by the infinite echoing of the giant's roar. He scanned the area quickly, hoping to catch sight of his enemy. Nothing could be seen. The purple mist had matured into a thick velvety cloud, permitting Adam to see naught but the stone directly beneath his feet. As he swiped at the blanket of smoke with his sword, the roaring of trumpets married the thunderous stomping of the giant ahead, fracturing the concrete beneath him. The assault of reverberations fell heavy upon the ground, shaking the Earth and conjuring a gaping chasm on either side of Adam.
"Do something!"
Adam ducked beneath the mist to glimpse a narrow path caught between the mouths of two endless voids. Wasting no time he began to sprint onward towards the sound of the approaching footsteps. A gargantuan silhouette revealed itself in the distance as the giant slayer charged forward, his sword held ready to strike a deathly blow. The Earth suddenly dropped a few feet, forcing Adam to look down at the fast-approaching end of the path before him. Empowered by an alien sense of self-belief, Adam landed at the end of the path and vaulted across the dark abyss below, his sword pointing forward towards the approaching figure ahead.
A deep roar of anguish ensued. The trumpets desisted. The purple smoke dissipated. Adam found himself crouching atop the belly of a dying giant, falling at speed into the darkness of a boundless pit. His hand remained upon the hilt of the sword, with the blade in its entirety nestled deep in the heart of the beast.
"Do something!"
What?
"Somebody do something, please!"
Adam opened his eyes and covered his nose. It didn't help. The pervasive odour of melted soap and honey had infiltrated his mouth and began to slither down the back of his throat. He coughed in disgust, screwing his face and squinting his eyes at the unlit chandeliers above. Where am I?
"Do what?" A familiar voice panicked. "I don't know what to do!"
Finally Adam noticed the erratic, monotone screaming in the room and sprung himself from the floor in a hurry. "Marcus?" He inquired. "What's going on?"
"Over here!"
Adam looked at the moonlit aisle the voice emanated from, remembering the library he had fallen asleep in.
"Hurry!" Marcus insisted.
The sporadic wailing continued as Adam leapt over the table in front of him and darted towards the source of the commotion. His eyebrows stood crooked as anxiety took hold of his heart.
Mary glimpsed at Adam, her eyes puffed and cheeks flowing with tears. "Do something, Adam." She sobbed. "We can't wake her up." She turned her head away, looking back at Lulu's convulsing body in her arms. "I even tried slapping her." She added, her voice heavy with shame.
The burden of responsibility seemed too great for Adam. But as the tremors and cries persisted from the eight year old girl, he knew he really did have to do something. He searched his mind desperately for solutions but found only one. "Grab the bag!" He urged Marcus, while pointing back to the spot where he'd just awoken.
Marcus dashed for the backpack while Adam crouched down and cupped the back of the girl's head with his palm. Anxiety yanked at his heart further as he noticed her hair was drenched in sweat. "Come on, LuLu. You're tougher than this." He encouraged. "No one's tougher than you."
"What now?" Asked a quickly returned Marcus in a frantic voice.
"The water." He explained.
Marcus hesitated. "Are you sure?" He questioned. "There's not much left."
Adam turned to look at him. "Of course I'm fucking sure, Marcus." He snapped. "She's dying!"
Marcus thumbed through the bag and pulled out a half empty 2-litre bottle of water, opening it quickly and placing it in Adam's free hand.
Please work, thought Adam, as he emptied the entirety of the bottle's contents over the young girl's face. A week-long second was interrupted by a more-than-welcome gasp for air. Lulu instinctively shook her head and hair from side to side like a wet dog drying its coat, showering Adam and the others with water. None complained.
"Are you alright?" He questioned, dropping the empty bottle from his hand.
The girl seemed as confused as Adam had been when he first awoke. "I had a bad dream." She muttered. "My dad was there."
"You don't have to worry about anything now, LuLu." Said Mary, comforting her with a close embrace as if it were her own daughter. "You're okay now, baby girl."
Adam looked at Marcus to receive a nod of approval, but he was unable to enjoy the victory. His attention had returned to the smell of burnt soap and honey in the room. "Who's smoking luciform in here?" He threatened, searching out the source of the odour with his nose.
"I think it's coming from the corner over there," pointed Marcus. "It must be the the new guy."
With Marcus a foot behind, Adam stomped over to the corner to find Nigel fast asleep in the religion and spirituality section. A half-used luciform candle sat burning away on the shelf. Adam blew it out forcefully and kicked the sleeping man on the underside of his tattered boots.
Nigel sat up abruptly looking first shocked and then devastated. "What the hell, man?" He complained. "I was—"
"What the fuck is wrong you?" Adam barked angrily. "You almost killed LuLu!"
Confusion returned to Nigel's face. "What do you mean, man?" He mumbled, raising a hand to scratch his head. "I was just sleeping."
Adam shook his head in disbelief. "The luciform!" He explained.
"LUC-4D," Marcus corrected. "That's the proper—"
"Whatever the fuck you want to call it," Adam interrupted. "You're gonna burn that crap in here when there's a kid about?"
"I'm sorry," said the barely awake man. "I didn't think."
Marcus laughed. "No shit."
"You can't stay with us anymore." Adam asserted. "Get your things and go."
Nigel crawled onto his knees and grabbed Adam by the ankle. "Please. No." He pleaded. "I'm not a looser!" He insisted. "I just use it sometimes to help me astral project so I can speak to my wife."
Adam felt bad about the man's dead lover, but Lulu's screams still echoing around his skull prevented him from changing his mind. "Well you can still speak to her somewhere else." Adam turned around so Nigel wouldn't notice the guilt on his face. "Go."
"Don't make me go out there by myself, man. Please!" He begged. "I won't last a day on my own."
He was right, and Adam knew it. With the self-proclaimed Lord of London's daily bounty now on offer, the streets were more dangerous than ever.
"You should have thought about that earlier then." Marcus teased.
A mental flash of Nigel's would-be severed head encouraged Adam to turn back around. "No." He said quietly, his voice sounding defeated. "The man's right." Sorry LuLu. "We can't send him out there."
Nigel jumped up to his feet overwhelmed with joy. "Thank you, thank you, thank you." He cried, grabbing Adam's wrist in gratitude.
"But get rid of that candle." Adam commanded. "I mean it."
"Of course." Nigel responded reluctantly.
Adam turned around, tapping Marcus on the arm to come with him. He hoped that he'd done the right thing, and more so, that Huntero would hurry up and fix this mess.
Marcus sped ahead of Adam and started pacing backwards. "Why'd you let that looser stay?" He looked disappointed.
Making his way back towards Mary and the girl, Adam offered a lie in response. "The more of us the better."
"I suppose you're right," agreed Marcus. "But still."
The truth was there were too many of them as it was. They had started off a group of five and now there were nine— far too many to be traversing the streets of London unnoticed. But Adam couldn't bear to admit that he lacked the heart to send someone to their death, even if doing so may have put them all at risk of worse.
"How're you feeling LaLa?" He joked through a smile.
"I told you my name's, LuLu!" She laughed, sounding as if she'd already forgotten the nightmare. "I'm thirsty."
For a second Adam thought to get the water from his bag. "We don't have any left." He admitted. "But, we're gonna go see if we can find some right now." He looked over at Mary. "We'll be back before long. You should get everyone ready to go."
Mary nodded her head and turned back to LuLu. "Why don't you choose a few books to take with us?" She suggested.
"Come on, Marcus." Adam spoke while waving to the pair with a smile.
A voice interjected from behind the bookshelf. "Where are we going?"
"How long have you been awake, Darren?" Adam asked in surprise.
"I haven't been able to sleep." He responded, unmoved from the floor of the next aisle.
"Why'd you not do something to help?"
The sound of movement made its way through the bookshelf. "What could I have possibly done?" Darren replied, appearing at the edge of the aisle wiping crumbs from his trouser leg. "Where are we going?"
Adam couldn't understand how someone could lay there unaffected through such an event, but he had to admit to himself that Darren was right. He decided not to judge. "We're gonna see what we can find in this place."
"This is the creepiest school I've ever seen." Darren observed, examining a stuffed ram head on the wall. "A wee exploration could be fun." He added, a familiar and mischievous smile on his face.
"You're a twat, mate." Teased Marcus, as the three began to make their way out of the library and into the corridor.
The halls were far darker and colder than the library had been. It would have been completely black if not for the beams of moonlight bursting in through the broken stained-glass windows every five or six feet. The lit portions of the corridor illuminated a black and white checker-board floor, and painted a million specs of dancing dust particles a variety of colours.
"You should have brought the candle, Adam." Darren suggested too late.
Adam stopped for a second, putting the back of his hand on Darren's stomach and turning towards him. "How could you possibly have heard that?" He wondered. "You were right on the other side of the Library."
Darren laughed. "Nothing gets by me, mate." He said boastfully. "You should know that by now."
"Yeah, of course not." Marcus added as they began moving forward again. "Nothing could miss those ears." He laughed.
Adam suppressed his desire to join in the laughter. Darren's ears really were unnaturally big. That— or they stuck out enough to make them look as such.
"You're damn right," admitted Darren, "I can hear from miles away with these babies." He said proudly.
It was difficult not to respect the thickness of Darren's skin. He had a way of interpreting every insult thrown at him as a compliment. Adam wished he could adopt that quality.
"Did any of you catch a trippy dream off that luciform?" Darren changed the subject.
A flash of purple invaded Adam's peripheral vision. "I feel like I had a pretty insane dream," he confessed, "But I can't remember it."
"I would tell you about mine," said Marcus, "But a gentleman never kisses and tells."
The three laughed in unison, with the corridor laughing back.
"You're a dirty bastard, Marcus." Adam said playfully. " Was it Mary?"
Darren quickly cut across the pair and kicked open a door that had laid ajar. "Kitchen!" Darren celebrated, as if he'd just won a free ear-reduction surgery on a scratchcard.
Adam peaked inside. From a fully broken window in the hall, a glimmer of moonlight shone atop what looked like a canteen table. The rest of the room was pitch black. "Hello." Adam said loudly, getting a feel for the size of the room. The belated echoes informed him that it was indeed a very large room— large enough to be the canteen.
"Good find." Adam commended Darren. "Let's split up and investigate."
The three made their way into the thick darkness of the room, probing around the edges with their hands for the entrance to the kitchens. The prospect of finding food roused the hunger they'd been suppressing for days.
"Can we please find a building with power next time?" Marcus complained. "This searching through the dark shit is getting old already."
"We wouldn't have to do this if you hadn't wasted the battery on the torch making stupid shadows with your hands." Marcus pointed out.
"Hey." The accusation seemed to offend him. "LuLu loved that."
Darren replied, his voice now echoing from quite a distance. "You mean, Mary loved that LuLu loved it."
Adam found his head nodding in the darkness while his hands explored the freezing cold tiling on the wall. Marcus had wasted the battery on a silly shadow-puppet show— and all to impress Mary. "There's next to no buildings with power left in this district." He explained. "And we're far safer in ones without power anyway. We don't need to be drawing attention."
"I don't see how it could possibly be safer walking around blind." Darren objected. "Never mind the gangs or the mobs. It would only take a fucking banana skin to kill you in a room this dark."
Adam slowed down and began to tread carefully, realising if there was to be a banana skin in any room— it would be this one. "You never answered me, Marcus." He added.
"Answered what?" His voice now sounded to be on the other side of the canteen.
Adam projected his voice louder. "Was it Mary you dreamt of?"
Marcus laughed. "Of course it was." He admitted. "She's the only woman I've any chance of getting some from. It'd be pointless to dream of another."
A cackle ricocheted from wall to wall in the canteen. "Mate." Darren interrupted. "You've got no chance of getting some from her."
"I've more chance than you though." He responded, sounding insulted. He quickly changed the subject. "Why's there no fucking windows in here? A little light would make all the difference."
"It's a canteen." Darren said in a condescending voice. "Windows mean flies and flies are bad for kids trying to eat their— Fuck off! His voice was raised and followed by what sounded like a slap.
Adam's heart rate jumped and and his body became stiff. His eyes scanned the room but he could see nothing other than the door they entered through. "What's wrong?"
"Darren?" Marcus added, his voice broken with fear.
"All good." He replied through a subtle laugh. "It was just a fly."
Adam chuckled to himself.
"What were you saying, smart arse?" Marcus' smug voice was barely audible. The room flooded with a dim light as he pulled a thick curtain across the rail to reveal a double-door leading outside, surrounded by planes of glass. "No windows in a canteen, eh?"
"Thank God!" Darren rejoiced , not at all bothered by the inaccuracy of his prediction.
"It leads out to the playground." Marcus observed.
"If you want to go and play on the swings, then go." Darren teased. "We've got this."
Adam sighed. "Can you two pack it in?" He said with an exhausted voice. "Let's check for supplies and get back to the others quickly."
"Found some." A voice called out enthusiastically.
Adam ducked as something thumped the tiling behind his head. Whatever it was squished as it hit the wall and sprayed Adam with a thick liquid that smelt like death. "What the fuck was that?"
"You need to lighten up, Adam." Darren laughed. "It was an apple."
"Piss off!" Marcus shouted, as a rotten apple exploded on a pane of glass above his head.
Adam wiped the stench from his brow and hurried towards the enclosed kitchen area Darren was launching apples from. "Marcus was right." He said for perhaps the first time ever. "You are a twat, Darren."
The twat simply laughed and threw another apple directly upwards. It splatted on the ceiling and showered both he and Adam with more foul juice.
A battle between anger and laughter played out in Adam's mind, with the silly smile on Darren's face aiding the laughter's victory by a slight margin. He picked up one of the rotten apples from the basket and threw it full force before Darren's feet. It exploded, covering him from head to toe.
"Ewww." Darren complained, rapidly wiping the juice from his clothes. "That's going too fucking far, man."
"Are there any good ones?" Marcus inquired, jumping over a table in front of the pair.
"Yeah this one." Darren responded, repeating Adam's splatter technique on Marcus.
"Wanker!" Marcus wailed, the anger in him clearly winning out over any sense of playfulness.
"Shush—" Darren urged.
"Fuck you, you fucking prick." Marcus continued.
Darren stepped closer to Marcus and placed his hand over his mouth. "Seriously." He pleaded. "Be quiet."
Marcus pulled his lips away from Darren's hand in disgust and started spitting on the floor, his lips vibrating loudly.
"Be silent!" Darren reiterated.
"What is it?" Adam whispered.
"Out there." He replied softly, pointing towards an exit on the far side from where they'd entered.
The three crouched down and tiptoed their way out of the door and towards the window in the hall.
"Down there." Darren explained. "I told you nothing gets by these babies." He added, caressing one of his earlobes as if it was indeed his beloved newborn child.
Adam peaked out through the window, looking down at the entrance to the school. Two all-black military-style Land Rovers had pulled up— armoured with fully tinted windows. "Who the hell are these guys?" Adam asked quietly.
The anger on Marcus's face was replaced by terror as the doors opened and a squadron of men armed with assault rifles exited from the vehicles. "This is not good." He whispered, ducking down for fear of being noticed.
The others looked on to see the final man to exit from the four-by-four at the back. It was difficult to discern from the elevated perspective, but Adam could tell the man was at least six-foot-ten. His head was completely shaved and he wore a black suit with a purple shirt— the top button open with no tie around his neck. He was the only one of them not wearing protective body armour or a mask.
"That's the fucking Lord of London." Darren said amidst a bout of hyperventilation. He quickly ducked down beneath the window sill to join Marcus. "We need to get out of here. Now."
"Are you sure?" Adam questioned, having only seen the Lord once on a video stream before the power went out. "I don't recall him being so tall."
Darren grabbed Adam by the wrist, his fingers frozen with terror. "I am certain." He whispered, his face even paler than usual. "Let's get the fuck out of here."
"I'm with you, Darren." Marcus agreed. "Let's find a way out the back."
"Quiet!" Insisted Adam, still staring intently below. The Lord of London raised a hand to signal his goons to enter the building, his eyes focused away from them and towards the Welcome to Edencove Grammar School sign. After a few seconds, he turned and headed for the entrance behind them.
"Let's go Adam!" Marcus repeated.
Adam dropped down beneath the window. "What about Mary, huh?" He reminded. "You're willing to leave her behind?"
Marcus lowered his head in shame. "What are we supposed to do?" He questioned. "They have guns! What the fuck do we have?"
Ignoring Darren's nodding head, Adam replied hopefully. "We have a fucking responsibility." He encouraged. "To Mary. To Lulu— even to the others." Adam could see he wasn't getting through to them. "I'm not saying we take them on. But we've time to grab the others and go before they find us."
The pair looked one another in the eyes briefly, deliberating Adam's words.
"Fine." Darren conceded.
Marcus shook his head in disappointment. "Let's go quickly then." He urged.
Adam smiled in satisfaction and tapped them both on the shoulders in approval. The three crouched down beneath the windows and quickly crept their way through the moonlit halls around the outside of the canteen.
"Shit." Marcus said apologetically, after standing on a shard of glass and making far too much noise.
The three stopped for a second and examined the corridor. No one could be seen, and nothing could be heard.
"Perhaps no one heard—" Darren's words were interrupted by the shattering of glass.
A small object arrived through a window, bouncing off the wall and landing on the floor in front of the trio. Adam's heart leapt from his chest, but instinct provoked him to pull the others into a nearby room with the door hanging from the hinges.
Marcus flinched and threw his hands against his ears as the smoke grenade detonated just outside the door. "We're fucked now." He knew.
Adam believed him. He wished he'd listened to them and ran while they had they chance. Now he may have gotten them killed too, he realised.
"What're we gonna go?" Asked Darren, looking at Adam as if he ought to have the solution.
The smoke in the corridor began to gush past the entrance of the room. A half-shattered blue and red stained-glass window painted the smoke with a purple tint, catapulting Adam back into the memory of his dream. An air of confidence filled the young man as he turned around to find Marcus on his knees, praying before a statue of Jesus. The statue's hands housed a long silver cross— one with the appearance of a sword. Adam remembered the height of the Lord of London. This can't be a coincidence, he considered.
Adam hesitantly twisted his hand downwards and placed it upon the top of the metal cross. He became convinced that if it was loose enough to extract from the statue, it would mean that he had the power to do something. Slowly he began to lift it, his heart and his will empowered further with every inch that it receded from the statue. A feeling of invincibility overwhelmed his body as he withdrew the cross in its entirety and held it upright like a sword. Is God real?
"What are you doing Adam?" Darren screeched. "They have guns, you idiot." He reminded. "What the fuck are you gonna do with that?"
Adam snapped out of his day dream realising the cross was blunt where it ought to have been sharp. It was not a sword— and he was not a giant slayer.
"Do something, Adam!" Marcus begged.
What?
Adam was thrust deeper into to the memory of his triumph over the giant. He became frozen with confusion, staring into the smoke outside the room, still accentuated with a purple glow.
A scream echoed upon the walls of the corridor and infiltrated the tiny chapel they'd hidden inside.
"Fuck this." Said Darren before darting out of the room and running back in the direction they had came from.
Adam looked at the cross in his hand, and then at the apologetic expression on Marcus's face as he too turned and took flight. Mary screamed again, provoking Adam to turn around and search for a better weapon. None could be found— it was too dark. But a half illuminated mural on the wall abated his fear.
The confused twenty-two year old stared intently at the band of cheribum and their trumpets, questioning if this was divine providence or a simple series of coincidences. One more scream emanating from the library forced him to admit to himself that whether he had the power to save the others or not— the right thing to do was to try. He took the deepest breath of his life and ducked out through the door.
Adam turned right towards the library. A distant flash of light sparkled in the midst of the smokey corridor. His arm covered his eyes as the machine gun fire hit the floor just ahead. A cloud of dust and flying debris beset him like a sandstorm. He turned promptly and sprinted blindly in the other direction. The halls were saturated with smoke and Adam could see nothing but fragments of tiling jumping up towards him as bullets flew past his body and landed ahead. The floor seemed to shake as he covered his ears to guard from the reverberating sound of heavy gunfire. The familiarity of his situation convinced him this would not be his end.
The section of the corridor came to a close and Adam launched himself to the left and into a forward roll. The gunfire seemed to chase him around the corner. Wasting no time he sped out of the smokey halls and into the back entrance to the canteen. Adam raced straight for the double doors and pulled the curtain across the rail. The light fled from the room as he sneaked across the canteen using only his memory for guidance.
A searching beam of light and heavy footsteps entered behind him. Adam crouched silently under a table, watching the light from his attacker's torch swing wildly through the darkness. He made himself weightless and silently crept towards his only idea. Holding the cross in one hand, he sought with the other for the basket of rotten apples and took hold of one. A cry of despair found its way into the canteen and echoed from wall to wall.
"Do something, Adam," said no one.
With the gunman growing close to Adam, he pelted the apple against a wall on the far-side of the room. The beam of light whipped around quickly as the assailant took aim and fired in the opposite direction. Adam leapt forward, clutching the cross at the very end, and swung it full-force at head height. The sound of a gun skidding across the floor was quickly followed by a heavy thump on the ground. Adam held the weapon over his shoulder ready to attack again, but there was no movement— he was out cold. I did it.
A low burst of gunfire somewhere else in the building informed Adam that he hadn't done it yet. He dropped the cross and picked up the gun as if he knew how to use it, quickly making his way to the exit of the canteen. He cut through the smokey corridor, his energy and confidence rejuvenated as he scampered through the section still illuminated with a purple tint. Approaching the library, he put his back to the door frame and lowered his breath.
"This insufferable place was my unfortunate abode for many years." A ridiculously posh voice explained. "Howbeit, I did learn a number of valuable insights throughout my time here."
The voice was distinctive— it was the Lord of London's.
"We don't care." A daring voice replied.
Adam was overjoyed to hear that LuLu was alive.
A pretentious laugh filled the library. "My, my." He continued. "The child appears to be the most courageous among you."
There was no time to waste, Adam realised. He began to creep his way into the library, staying low and keeping to the shadows. His finger lay upon the trigger of the gun, as his mind attempted to summon a means of escaping this situation without having to pull it.
"While I greatly admire your candour, little girl. You will be silent." The Lord cautioned. "Or your mother here will pay the price for your tongue."
Adam crept past the first aisle, desperately hoping that LuLu would heed her warning. He caught sight of her in the middle of the library. She and the others sat in a semi-circle around the Lord — who Adam now realised was at least seven-foot tall — and one armed guard who stood beside him. Mary held LuLu's hand tightly.
"One such lesson I learned within these walls is how the weak are a cancerous blight on society."
LuLu's face lit up as she spotted Adam drawing closer. He threw his finger against his lips, urging her to be quiet and act normal. She looked back at the Lord as if suddenly interested in what he had to say.
"Upon the backs of the strong does the progression of society finds its trajectory." His arrogance was obnoxious. "And through the burden of carrying the weak, does that trajectory reach its plateau."
Only a few feet behind them now, tucked behind the bookshelf where Darren had lay earlier, Adam thought about shooting them both in the back in cold-blood. But he couldn't bring himself to do it. There might still be a way to get out of this situation without killing, he hoped.
"Do you know what I want to—"
Adam didn't allow the Lord of London to finish his sentence. He stepped out from behind the bookshelf and shouted aloud, "Don't fucking move!" He pointed the nose of the rifle at the henchman, whose gun was held in both hands— but lowered.
The Lord smiled. Adam frowned. The guardsman looked at Adam's soul from behind his balaclava and raised the weapon instantly.
"Adam!" Yelled LuLu as the room filled with the sound of gunshots.
Adam noticed his eyes were held tightly shut. He opened them quickly to see a puff of smoke rising from the barrel of his rifle, and ahead of it a gunman on the floor covered in bullet holes. He gasped for air, his lungs filling with shame.
The others in the room sat on their knees holding their ears while the Lord stood raising his hands, a haunting expression of satisfaction upon his pale face.
"Bravo." London's self-appointed ruler congratulated, drawing his hands together in applause. "It appears we have another spirited one."
Confused, but determined, Adam turned the gun to point it at the unarmed lunatic. "Everyone get up and go." He commanded. "Quickly."
The group started to rise to their feet, but stopped abruptly as a contented chuckle escaped the Lord's sealed lips. "Behind you." He mocked, signalling with his eyes.
Adam looked over his shoulder to spot a further two armed-henchman arriving in the library from the rear— Marcus and Darren walking ahead of them with their arms raised and their faces defeated.
"These two were trying to escape out back." One explained.
Adam's heart left him as he turned back around to observe the Lord stride forward and grasp the gun from his hands. Still smiling, the giant of a man lifted the gun with both hands and bent it in half as if it were made of rubber.
"What the fuck are you?" Adam mumbled, the confidence in him forgotten.
The Lord dropped the folded rifle from his hands and jolted forward, grabbing Adam by the throat before the metal hit the floor. "I am the strong." He boasted, lifting the failed-hero above his head with one arm.
The others began to sob dramatically while the freak continued on with his story as if he had not been interrupted.
"What I want," he said passionately, "Is to discover the unimaginable heights, society might one day reach." He stared at the others as if he'd forgotten he were holding Adam in the air. "Once we rid our backs of the burdensome weight of the weak."
Adam dared to enlighten the Lord to his psychopathy, but was unable to speak for the tightness of the grasp on his neck. He kicked his feet, and pried with his fingers at the hands of the Lord, but could not break free.
"You are all going to aid me in the discovery of this new world." The madman explained, before offering a command to his goons. "Take the girl." He glanced at LuLu. "Offer the rest to the fire."
Adam tried to scream but only a feeble cough escaped his lips. The Lord turned and looked up at him.
"You've proven yourself courageous." He complimented. "But what of your strength?"
The Lord of London looked genuinely curious, but didn't wait for an answer. He forcefully swung Adam around and launched him across the room effortlessly. Adam crashed through the window and fell two floors down— landing on his back upon the concrete outside.
Moments later, the scorching heat awoke Adam. He raised his hand to his head to soothe the pain, noticing the blood. Remembering the situation, he tried to stand. He couldn't. Lifting his head forward, he observed a giant shard of glass protruding through his right thigh. Tears began to flood his eyes as he realised he could not feel any pain in his legs. Sorry LuLu, he thought, as he accepted the truth— he was no hero.
The flames storming from the windows of the library above insulted him further. He turned his head to the side, unable to bear the sight of his failure any longer. Directly ahead of him on the road, the Lord of London stared from the passenger side of his four-by-four. He smiled a satisfied smile at Adam, then signalled by-hand for his henchman to start driving.
Adam closed his tired eyes and waited for death.