July 18, 2013, 1:59 p.m.
The Chronicles Of Nightbird (And Captain Oreo): A Series: Verse #6: Playtime - Mission Impossible
K - Words: 1,778 - Last Updated: Jul 18, 2013 Story: Closed - Chapters: 10/? - Created: Mar 08, 2013 - Updated: Jul 18, 2013 146 0 0 0 0
The other ones were already dissipating, all of them going in different directions. Secret Agent Anderson stood in the circular crossroads, surrounded by the steel walls, rotating on the spot. He knew Madmind hadn't gone that way, he just knew.
He pricked up his ears, straining for any sign of movement; the tiniest sound; a trace of human life.
He sensed a vibration coming from over his shoulder, turning around immediately and as silently as possible and caught a fleeting glimpse of a foot disappearing behind a wall.
He hurried to press himself against it, peeking around the corner. The coast was clear. A blindingly illuminated and pretty long path, extended ahead of him, thick fog spreading at the height of the ankles.
He studied the view, if Madmind was the evil genius he claimed to be, it wouldn't be easy to catch him. There had to be...
Score. He spotted what to others may have been a scratch on the wall, but to him, with his experience and sharp wit was a dangerous laser device that emitted deathly light at the slightest waver in the air.
It was also something Secret Agent Anderson could defeat in his sleep.
He suppressed the sly smile on his face; this clearly wasn't over yet. He took a deep breath and got into position. Set, ready and... Go!
He knew the key wasn't in running, that way the lasers hit you anyway, only you didn't see them coming. He had to walk briskly and attentive. He was now approaching the first device, which was already warming up, ready to attack; what it didn't know was that the little boy was way ahead of him, already aware of its mechanism.
The agent kept on walking, eyes ahead and keeping his pace fast and precise, just as the laser was about to shoot. He slowed down, concentrating, as he put his hands on the floor, then placed the top of his head between them and rolled across the cold, stone ground. This was a piece of cake for him.
He continued to hurry down the path, zig-zagging at any given moment and doing one or two more somersaults. He was a few feet again from the end of the path, where two new halls continued in opposite directions.
But there was something odd about the steel panel ahead of him, it was almost like... a door.
A secret passage!
Surely, Madmind had gone that way.
However, out of the corner of his eye, he saw another red light shooting right at him, not giving him enough time to do other than leap high in the air.
The background music came to a dramatic halt as he jumped in the air, suspended and spinning in slow motion, his spine barely missing the laser. He could even feel the lethal heat brush his clothes.
He landed on the floor, ducked, his hands firm on the floor. He looked up, panting, detecting a sliver of the heavy mist, eerily creeping from under the door.
He stood up, ramrod straight, one foot in front of the other as he started walking again.
He tried to move the door to a side, but it was no use. It was something Madmind could've done as well, in a matter of seconds, just two minutes ago.
Preferably, perhaps, something not everyone could go through. The man's eyes scanned the walls, stopping on a spot on the door... several inches over his head.
It looked like a button and if it was, it probably opened the door. He had to get to it.
He jumped as high as he could, bending his knees and stretching his arm.
His fingers grazed the noticeable relief on the wall, but he still couldn't reach it enough as to push it.
He tried again, this time feeling the edges a little clearer.
Third time's a charm.
He extended his legs and even his toes as much as he could, feeling his vertebrae stretch as well, his fingers almost about to detach from his hand.
He landed back on the floor, expectantly still.
There was a loud sound, as though something was deflating really fast. The fog that was gliding over and all throughout the building's floor became more abundant, at the point where it was already a white smoke around his knees, not as dense, yet giving the impression of giant snakes on the watchout, about to tangle in between his legs if he made any wrong movements.
The panel slid –it looked curiously thinner than the rest of the real ones- and was concealed in a groove, right in the middle of the wall next to it.
He started walking again, facing a new path, that didn't look dangerous or very long. It was far less narrow than the one he had just survived, this one resembling more of an antechamber.
This time the door was visible and almost inviting, contrasting with the entire steel construction, being made of wood, heavy and dark. He squinted as he adventured towards it.
He placed a hand on the knob, gingerly turning it. It opened, slightly ajar; the room seemed to be empty.
He continued, pushing it open and stepping into it.
The walls were lined with rows of shelves, filled with books and clocks and funny devices and the floor was mostly covered by a large, circular rug. There was a fire crackling under a marble mantel. He couldn't help but notice the room was very inharmonious against the cold, bright corridors outside.
"At last, we meet again," said a voice, out of sight yet clearly knowing and satisfied, almost making him jump. "Secret Agent Anderson," it greeted and the chair in front of the desk in the middle of the room turned around suddenly.
"Madmind!" Blaine exclaimed, clenching his teeth and squinting.
"Bravo, Agent," he jeered as he gently caressed the hamster resting on his lap. "I never thought you'd be the one to find me first; we all know you are not so bright, don't we, Agent Anderson?" the boy said, crutching on the seat, emphasizing the last words with a pleased look, clutching onto the armrest with one hand. He started laughing maniacally, throwing his head back.
"We both know how this is going to end, Madmind," the spy pointed at him.
"Of course we do, because now you're dead!" He continued laughing, this time extending his hand towards the agent. He had been hiding a gun beneath his pet all the time.
"What? No!" Anderson exclaimed, covering his face with his hands while the evil mastermind shot. "Hunter, you can't kill me!" he stomped with his little feet on the soft mat colored floor.
"What do you mean I can't kill you, yes I can, and I just did!" he exclaimed, jumping on the children-sized bench.
"But I'm the good guy and you're the bad guy, so you're supposed to die, not me," Blaine was feeling insulted. In what sort of twisted alternative universe did bad guys win? It didn't make any sense.
"No, you're supposed to die," he pointed at him accusingly. Blaine gasped.
"Hey!" He pointed back, opening his eyes like plates. "I say that," that was just what he needed, Hunter making fun of him after cheating on the game, and stealing his catch phrase.
"You're dead, and that means I win," the other boy boasted, smiling widely.
"No, I'm not dead and period," the smaller boy stated. If they were going to play, they had to play right.
"This is so not fair, Blaine! You always do this!" He complained, crossing his arms, wobbling the small animal in one of his hands. "You know what? No!" he insisted. "No. I'm not dead, you're dead. Now you're no longer alive and I'm the king of the world!" Hunter threw his arms up in the air, and in the heat of the moment, the motion hauled the hamster, sending it all across the room.
It felt like slow-motion all over again, the squeaking pet flying across the room, and both children staring at it with eyes and mouths wide open. Once it hit the floor, the silence was mortifying.
"Uh-oh," Blaine cooed, pressing his index finger over his upper lip.
"Run, run for your life!" He jumped out of his seat, running straight out of the classroom. He knew that if any teacher caught them, they would be on detention for the rest of their lives. That was the second hamster he had killed since summer.
"Hunter, don't leave me here!" Blaine screamed desperately, following Hunter to wherever he was going.
"Agent Anderson, good thing you're here. We found out Agent Smythe was in fact a DOUBLE AGENT ALL ALONG!" a little girl with too-big-for-her clothes and hair walked up to Blaine as soon as he appeared on their main class room followed by Hunter, unaware that the game had already finished.
"It's no use, Robin, Blaine here spoiled all the fun," he taunted, hands on his hips. "He refused to die, so naturally, I killed him," he waved it away. "Again."
But Blaine wasn't minding the game no more, he was biting his lip with anxiousness filling his eyes. What if they had actually killed the hamster? It was a secret too big for someone as tiny as him to keep.
What if they called his parents and told them and he would be punished in his room or sent to jail?
What if his friends blamed him and he was left with no friends whatsoever?
What if he was disaccredited as a superhero?�
"What? But... He can't die, Hunter," the girl frowned, confused. The boy's face dropped slightly. He opened his mouth again, before being drowned by Sebastian's hollering.
"I'll get my revenge, all of you!" he screamed, wrestling against Sam and Artie, who were holding him, keeping him from escaping. Robin laughed out loud, not even bothering to try and conceal it, to which Sebastian replied looking up with lighten up eyes and a pleased smile. Hunter squinted at him, "So much for double agent."
"Alright children," their teacher walked in the room with a sweet smile on her face. "It's time to practice our coloring." Robin couldn't help but whisper a proud yes, since coloring wasn't only her favorite thing, but the thing she did best. "Sam, Artie, leave Sebastian and everyone get your notebooks."
Miss Bushnell didn't seem angry or suspicious to Blaine. He eyed Hunter, who was already guilt-less, reaching for his notebook from inside his backpack. Maybe the hamster wasn't dead after all.
He was safe... at least for now.