Three: The world is now too small for anything but brotherhood.

 (Quote by Arthyr Powell Davies)

            Mono stood in the way that he stood. He had never seen anyone else stand that way, and if he had, he’d probably kill him anyway. He leaned farther back than normal people when he stood. He stretched and sat back down. He was alone, at a table, in an abandoned factory downtown. He tapped is foot. He was usually very patient but he hadn’t seen his brothers in almost a week.

            Most people would consider his clothing very odd. He wore an ornate green shirt with gold trim. His pants were simple, black, and fit him in a very snug manner. He was wearing black leather gloves with no fingers. His hair was black and stood straight up.

            He tapped the table a few times then noticed his brother sitting to his right.

            “Smoke, you’re late. Insidious, but late.”

            His brown hair was cut closely to his scalp. He had very sharp features. The cigarette glowed in the poorly lit room. “That I may be, though I am not as late as the others.” He took one last drag and tossed the cigarette aside. He reached behind Mono’s ear and produced another cigarette. He held it between his lips and snapped his fingers. With a small flash, the end of it lit, and he happily took a puff.

            “And why, if you please, is my brother of the night late?”

            Smoke blew a couple rings into the air. “I was trying to pass the time, but I had found that the time had passed me by.” He cracked his neck and leaned back in his chair.

            Mono tapped his foot. He wanted all of them together again. He wanted them to be whole again. Growing up in the research lab, all he had were his brothers.

            Smoke looked distracted by something, then his neck twitched. “They’re here,” he said. A moment later, a tall man with large, black wings carefully flew in through an open window. He carried with him what at first would seem to be a young child. He came closer and landed. His wings faded from view. He placed the boy in one of the chairs. The one who looked like a child at first did not look like a child at all when close up. He had very aged features. He was very thin and looked and sounded very unhealthy. The man who had wings brushed back his hair with his hand and sat down.

            Mono grinned. He was glad to be back with his brothers. It had been a long, hard week. “Azrael, what have you discovered about the world throughout the past week?”

            The man who had wings seemed to think for a moment. He had long, blonde hair and wore a white gown. “There is great unrest among men,” Azrael said with a booming voice. “They have many prejudices and would kill their brothers to save themselves. A great plague is upon them. They have no where to turn, so they turn on each other.”

            Smoke blew a long stream of smoke into the air. “What do the gods have to say about it, Faith?”

            The remaining brother began to speak, in a very frail voice. “The gods have surely have brought us here to cleanse the world, but there is a problem.” The others paid utmost attention. “The daughter of Chaos has been sent to stop us.”

            “A sister of the night,” said Mono. “Only one of our own can stop us, but together we can crush her.”

            “There is a prophecy concerning this,” said Faith, “but it is unclear to me at this time.” He began hacking and coughing and eventually caught his breath, but was still wheezing. He paused and said, “They are coming for us, brothers. We best wait outside.” He tried to stand, but Azrael caught him before he fell over.

            Together they went outside in silence. Mono was in front, followed by Smoke and Azrael, who carried Faith. Outside they were surrounded by what seemed like an army. There were soldiers with all kinds of guns. There were people in mechanized armors. There were automated robots of all kinds. In the distance, they could even hear a helicopter on its way.

            A man wearing full body armor slowly walked past the barrier and toward the brothers. He stopped several feet away. He spoke very loudly. “Mono,” he paused, carefully picking his words, “I’m here to make a deal with you.” Mono didn’t show any form of response. “We can work together, to achieve a common goal. We can work miracles.”

            Moments passed where there was no sound other than the helicopter, which was now overhead, and the occasional radio communication. A voice boomed in the head of the negotiator, and the heads of all the soldiers. We have been sent by the gods to cleanse the world and destroy the weak and the wicked. A look of pain and horror filled the face of the negotiator. You have been deemed as weak and wicked.

            Azrael placed Faith gently on the ground. Faith carefully traced a run in the air as Azrael pulled a claymore out of nowhere. He finished the rune and it glowed a bright blue in front of him. Azrael rushed the negotiator and cleaved him in two. Every single soldier opened fire.

            The noise was incredible. Machine guns, assault rifles, shotguns, hand guns, high caliber sniper rifles and many others were all going off continuously for several seconds. Some of the soldiers even reloaded and fired some more until someone shouted for a ceasefire.

            Even before the smoke settled, they could hear him laughing. Mono had a chaotic laugh that made people cringe. The smoke cleared and all four brothers stood valiantly, with Mono leaning back more than natural, laughing manically. The rune glowed brightly in the night. There were no bullets wounds to be seen, nor any bullet holes.

            I would say that we are gods among men, but I wouldn’t dare say I was among you pathetic mortals.

            Smoke tossed a butt to the ground and used a little slight of hand to produce another. He held it in front of his lips and blew. A flame was produced that was long enough and big enough to engulf over a dozen soldiers. He smiled and took a drag from his freshly lit cigarette. “Smoke and burn,” he said with a smoke filled breath.

            “The rune is fading,” wheezed Faith. And, it was. It flickered and became dim.

            Mono laughed. “Go, my brothers. I will meet up with you later. I’m going to have some fun first.” An incredible beeping began out of nowhere.

            Smoke slinked into the shadows and disappeared. Azrael’s sword was gone when he picked up Faith. His large, black wings came into view and he lifted off and began flying away.

            The beeping got louder and louder, but no one was able to hear it.

            The rune flickered and wavered and disappeared completely.

            The only thing louder than Mono’s piercing laughter was the unholy beeping. It grew louder and louder until she could stand it no more. Branwen woke up.

Two: Early to Bed, Early to Rise Makes Jack a Dull Boy.

            Adrien followed Demy into the bathroom. Demy let out a long sigh and leaned against the wall. He took a quick look at the wall and decided he didn’t want to touch it any more.

            “So what’s this all about?” asked Adrien. “What’s wrong with giving her those pills?”

            “Do you remember Branwen’s old neighbor?”

            “Which one was that?”

            Demy sighed again and knew he would probably sigh many more times before leaving the bathroom. “The one she was madly in love with?” Adrien tilted his head to one side in thought, but he produced nothing. “The one that caught the Kutu.”

            His face brightened. “Oh, that guy. I remember him. What ever happened to him?”

            Another sigh escaped his lips but he didn’t feel any better. There was a pause before he sighed again and relaxed a little. “He took an entire bottle of sleeping pills because he couldn’t stand the pain brought on by the Kutu.” He gave Adrien a light and brotherly punch on the shoulder and left the bathroom. Adrien followed him. They were both very surprised to see Branwen gone but very relieved to see the bottle was still there.

            Adrien took the bottle and put it back in his pocket. “I say we go back out tonight without her. She’ll probably be fine. The truck is running really well tonight.”

            “I agree that we should go back out tonight. But I still worry about her.”

            Swen rode. He rode and he rode. Then he rode some more. He went downtown. He went over the Great Bridge. He rode around for a while. He went over the great bridge again. He went back downtown and went into an alleyway. He looked around with a mild look of confusion on his face. He decided it was the wrong alleyway.

            The truck that almost hit her helped take a lot off of Branwen’s mind. What if she had died then? She hated drivers like that. What if she were horribly crippled and couldn’t work at her job any more and had to quit and had to get a different apartment building because hers wasn’t handicap accessible? She was mad. She was furious. She was exhausted. She decided to sit down on a bench. She sat for a moment, letting her mind sink into the sludge that is insomnia. She heard something but couldn’t tell what it was. She looked around and noticed someone sitting the bench next to her. His shirt was stained and his hair was all messed up. She watched his lips move.

            “Are you okay?”

            “Yeah, sorry. I’m just really tired.” She shook her head, trying to hold on to reality. She could barely focus on anything.

            “Do you smoke?”

            “No, but you can have one of my cigarettes.” She pulled a pack out of her vest pocket and gave the man a cigarette. She pulled a lighter out of the pack and lit it for him. “I’ve been trying to get rid of these things for a while now. Almost a year ago, I took up smoking and quit all in a couple of hours.”

            “Thanks a lot.” He inhaled deeply and let out a big, smoky sigh. “I haven’t had one in a while. I went on vacation, and when I got back, the entire block I lived on was quarantined for the Kutu.” He took another long, relieving drag from his cigarette. “All my friends, my brother, all my stuff. All of it is gone, forever.” He looked up, trying to see the stars. “Now I’m jobless, homeless, and I don’t know anyone in the city.”

            Branwen thought he seemed rather calm for someone who just explained all that. “I’m sorry to hear about all that.” She tried to see the stars too. “It makes all of my problems seem rather mundane and not all that bad.”

            “Some say the Kutu was sent down by the gods, to punish mankind.”

            Branwen said as kindly as she could, which happened to be very angrily, “Do not speak of the Gods around me. They have no place in my life.”

            They sat in silence for a while. The man was deep in thought. Branwen was simply lost within her own mind, unable to think. She didn’t see the bus coming, but she noticed it when it opened its doors. The man stood and brushed off his stained shirt. “I’ve been to hell and back and all I wanted was a cigarette.” He dropped it to the ground and crushed it beneath his shoe. He turned and looked at her very seriously in the eyes. “What do you want?” Then, without waiting for an answer, he got on the bus and she never saw him again.

            Swen rode. He rode and rode. Then he pulled into another alleyway. He smiled because it looked a lot more familiar than any of the other alleyways. He pushed one of the many buttons on the digital display of his bike. Big metal doors slid out of the way at the end of the alley. Many cameras followed him as he rode down a ramp and into an underground parking area. He parked the bike in a corner and pulled out a bottle of murky water. He opened a latch on the side of the bike and poured most of it into the bike. He drank the rest of it as he walked to a tall, steel door.

            He punched in several numbers into the keypad next to it and the door opened. He walked into a very bright room. There was a man standing there, waiting for him.

            “You’re late.”

            Branwen inhaled suddenly and lifted her head. Had she just fallen asleep? She thought so. She remembered something about the man she met at the coffee shop, but she knew she wasn’t there. Was the man who smoked a dream? She decided to hurry home while she could still sleep. She stood and stretched and started her way home. The rest of the walk home seemed far from real. Her body was a mile away and she almost watched it as it went ahead of her. She shook her head. She looked at her hand. She rubbed her eyes. She almost felt numb.

            Strange images flashed through her mind. A man with wings. A man holding a baby. A scientist. A caged animal. The world.

            She looked up and saw a large sign in front of a large building. The sign said “Crimson Hills”. She went into the front door into the lobby. She lugged herself over to the elevator and pushed the button. She forgot where she was but remembered when the elevator made a noise and the door opened. She went in and looked for a 7. She found a few of them and then tried to find one that was alone. She hated sleep deprivation.

            She pushed a button then double checked to make sure it was the right one. She heard a weird noise. The buttons were a little blurry. She yawned and pushed another button.

            The doors opened and she walked out. The doors closed behind her and she leaned against them. She thought for a moment. Why couldn’t she be in bed when she finally was able to sleep? She stood up and went to the end of the hallway. She paused a moment at the door next to hers before proceeding to the last one in the hallway. “Home, sweet home.” She pushed the key into the knob and could clearly hear people talking across the hall. “These walls are made of paper.” She went into her living room and there was a cat sitting there, waiting for her.

            “Meow.”

            She smiled at him. “Hello, Henry.” She patted him on the head and put some food in his dish. She climbed into bed and fell into oblivion.

One: Every Great Epic Begins With a Single Word

            “Immolation?”

            “Huh? What?” said Branwen as she suddenly sat upright and rubbed her eyes. She squinted through the fluorescent lights up at the man standing by her table.
            “I said, ‘Is this seat taken?’”
            She blinked at him several times and then shook her head. Was she saying no? Was she trying to wake herself up? By the time he sat down, she couldn’t remember. Where was she? She saw a sign about bagels. Was she downtown?
            “Are you from around here?” She stared right through him and his leather jacket. She tried to think. “I just got into the city myself.” She tried again. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the traffic here.” She finally did it.
            “What day is it?” she managed to slur out.

            He tilted his head to one side and said “It’s been Saturday for about two hours now. Why?”

            She looked around frantically, trying to grab onto any conscious thought that she could. “Saturday?” She went to the airport to surprise him on a Saturday. “Two hours. . .” She thought for a moment and then remembered getting up at two A.M. to get to the airport in time for his flight. “That bastard got off the plane with another woman.” She was suddenly very aware of everything going on around her. “I’ve been awake for a week!”

            “I suspected that, but I was more strongly leaning towards thinking you were on some sorts of drugs.”

            She finally looked at him instead of beyond him. He sat very comfortably on the bench beyond the table, sipping from his bottle of murky water. His short, spiky hair and stubbly face reminded her of her of someone, but she couldn’t remember who. He had bright, radiant, blue eyes.

            “The name’s Swen. It’s nice to meet you.” He took a couple more small sips from his bottle and looked around a bit. “Generally when people have insomnia, they don’t hang out in coffee shops.”

            Branwen found herself drinking from a cup of orange juice and remembered where she was and why she was there. “I’m here to meet up with a couple of friends. They should be here any minute.” She felt weak. The aftertaste of the cheap orange juice didn’t help. She noticed something. “I’m sorry, do I know you?” she asked as politely as she could.

            Swen stared out the window as he said, “I highly doubt it. I’m not from around here. I’ve been living in the city for a few days now and decided I need to make some friends.” He smiled at her.

            She was feeling cynical. “Have you ever had severe insomnia?”

            He shook his head. “Sleep comes easily to me.”

            “After a while, reality starts becoming more and more abstract. Being without dreams, simple things become more like them. Your senses begin to warp. Your body feels like it’s a mile away. The mind and the body become distant. The defining boundaries of reality fade. Am I a butterfly dreaming I am a man? Or am I just a heartbroken girl who hasn’t slept in a week?” She paused, feeling emotional and distant at the same time. “Are you even listening to me?”

            He stared out the window into the rain. He looked very solemn. She wondered what was wrong. “I know exactly how you feel.” He looked out the window for a few more moments and then stood and waked away. The tossed his empty bottle into a trash bin before walking out into the rain.

            She stared for a while, not thinking about anything specific. A hand was placed on her shoulder. “You don’t look so well.” She looked up to see who the hand and voice belonged to. It was a tall, thin albino man. He moved in sudden, calculated movements.

            “Demy,” she smiled at him. “You’re late.”

            “I guess you can say we hit some traffic on the way.” He winked at her. “Nothing we couldn’t handle on our own.” He sat across from her and motioned at a short, bulky man at the counter. “Adrien over there has some crazy ideas for the truck and your bike. He says he’s a visionary. I say he watches too many cartoons.”

            “You know I don’t watch cartoons,” said Adrien. He handed Demy a coffee and sat down with his own. He took the top off of the container and started pouring in packets of sugar. After five packets he looked at Branwen. “Wow. You don’t look so good. Still can’t sleep?” Branwen shook her head and rubber her eyes. “You shouldn’t be losing sleep over that creep. I knew he was bad news the first time I met him.”

            “He hasn’t been on my mind lately. I don’t know why I can’t get to sleep.” She stared at the bottom of her empty cup. “I always suspected he was with another woman. The business trips ran later and later the more he went on them.” She stretched her neck. “I just don’t know how I’m going to make it through work in the morning.”

            “I have an idea,” said Adrien. “You call work the leave a message saying you won’t be there today. Then you take a couple of these.” He handed her a bottle of pills. “Two of those and you’ll be out for eight hours.”

            Demy used his outdoor voice. “Wow, Adrien, I really have to use the bathroom, how about you?”

            “No, I’m fine. Oh, God! My foot! Fine, I’ll use the bathroom.”

            Adrien and Demy got off the bench and made their way to the bathroom. Branwen knew exactly what they were going to talk about, but tried not to think about it. She failed, and sat there staring at the bottle of pills.

            She left the bottle on the table ordered another orange juice. She took it with her into the rain. She walked to the corner and hit the button for the electronic crossing guard. She waited a few moments and watched the traffic work its way through the intersection. A tone played and the red light shaped like a hand was replaced with a white light shaped like a person walking.

            A truck taking a quick right turn on red slammed on its brakes and stopped inches away from Branwen. She stood there, staring at it. It honked at her, menacingly. Betraying her instincts, she continued through the intersection and made her way back to her apartment building.