“They’ll never have a clue.” said the man in black. William McIntyre looked at Fiske suspiciously. He opened his mouth to say something. But failed, and shut it again. William cautiously picked up the will and handed it to Fiske. Fiske tugged at the will, William didn’t let go. “Are you sure?” William asked. Fiske nodded. Although he wasn’t sure at all, all he knew is that Grace was, and he had to trust her. William let go, and walked swiftly out of the room. Shutting the door behind him. Leaving Fiske to mourn his dead sister. Out of all Fiske’s life, Grace was the only one who understood, he didn’t have a mother to care for him, and his father; James Cahill had fled for the hunt, the war, and the loss of his wife. His own sister; Beatrice, blamed him for the death of his own mother. Saladin came from under the table and hissed at him, as if Saladin also blamed Fiske for the death of Grace’s mother. A tear rolled down his eye. It was such a beautiful day, far too beautiful for someone to die. He gripped the will hard and walked through a door into a hallway. CREAK! Fiske stopped, someone was following him. He turned around, just to see a teenager standing in the hallway. He had brown eyes and short, fair, dark blond hair.
“Who are you? Tell me who you are?” Fiske commanded, no answer. Fiske got out his mobile and started dialling.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” said the boy. Fiske paused. No ordinary boy would say that to someone who lived in a mansion, but some of the menacing and punkey ones did. But this boy certainly wasn’t punky; he could pass for a book worm. Fiske put his phone away and stared at the boy.
“How did you get in here? And who the heck are you?”
“I understand. It’s confusing how I got in here all that, etcetera, etcetera. My name is Hayden Wyoming...”
The name shook Fiske to the bone. But Wyoming! That means he’s... But Fiske didn’t have any more time to think, Hayden continued to speak.
“...my father, you might know, sent me here, if you were going to ask. I ask for one thing and one thing only.” There was a pause.
“The ring!” Hayden said finally.
Fiske shuddered, and he suddenly noticed that Saladin was hissing at Hayden.
“The ring. Fiske! Give...it...to me!”
“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Fiske hesitated. Hayden turned red. Fiske was now certain that this was no ordinary boy; he looked like he could rip anybodies head off just with his teeth. Fiske noticed that the boy had long nails, out of which came needles. Poison needles, and Fiske noticed that he was bulging, not with muscles, but with guns, all of a sudden, Fiske realised that Hayden was heavily armed. Fiske felt like he just had to tell the truth, be he couldn’t do that.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about Fiske!” Hayden growled. “The ring which was forged and wore by Gideon! The ring which was passed down to Madeleine Cahill, the ring which was found in a bull’s eye by my ancestor General S.Patton! And the very same one Grace Cahill took from the Vespers, the ring, you have in your pocket!”
Fiske was shocked, not only was this boy a fully armed soldier, but he also know the whole history of the Cahill family! After a wait Hayden simply said; “Your choice, either you hand over the ring, or you’ll join the grave first thing tomorrow morning!”
With that, he leaped into the air, throwing a kick at the old man’s face, Fiske dodged it. When Hayden landed on the floor behind him, Fiske noticed that he shoes soul made the floor glow slightly yellow. So it’s not him that’s agile, it’s his shoes! He stole that from the Ekats! But Fiske had no time to think, the boy got out semi-automatic. Fiske side stepped towards the door. Hayden fired, but Fiske knew that was just a warning shot, even if it had missed him by the ankle. He heard Hayden get another gun out.
More Coming Soon!