Avatara

Brian Burnside's heart thud in his c.h.e.s.t. It beats so strong he could hear it inside his head. The men around him struck him with fear. They looked deranged and mindless. Monstrous, mercenaries 'from the deep' with massive, ugly, thick muscled meatheads; with the aggression levels to snap necks and gouge eyes without hesitation. Heavy jaws, large necks, no smiles, steroids fuelled stares. So after being told where to stand, he did not move. Not one of them talked to him after this. Yet he felt their evil intent.

"Hello, Mr Burnside," said a squeaky voiced man, who entered the designated lair down the metallic steps that made clinking sounds as he descended. Brian recognised Rylan Spector immediately and turned to focus his attention on the short and yet chilling man, with the big bald head. The brains of Sheldrake Enterprises. Flanking him were two huge men who looked military and were armed. Everyone here had weapons and looked menacing as if constantly ready for battle. What concerned Brian the most was that there were no means of escape and little room for negotiation. He feared for himself due to his failure to retrieve Grace Shelley after finding her by manipulating Jazz. I should have killed Jazz, then I could have brought her over easily! But given how police officer activity is logged, it would have been clear that he was the last one with Jazz and made him a prime suspect.

"I've been informed by my men here that after finding Grace Shelley for us, you failed to capture her."

"I'm really sorry Mr Spector," Brian said.

"Dr Spector, Mr Burnside," Spector corrected. "Dr Spector."

"Yes Dr Spector, I'm really sorry," said Brian, his voice a bit more strained and high pitched. His rate of speech also faster than it usually was.

"Some monk showed up out of nowhere and possessed my mind," said Brian.

"Please, no ridiculous excuses. What did I tell you when you located her home Mr Burnside?" said Spector.

"You told me to leave it to you, that you would send your men to collect her," said Brian with resignation.

Spector stood right in front of Brian, no more than a metre away. Being a foot taller than the Sheldrake boss, Brian found himself directly down at Spector who wore red visor as spectacles. He could just make out Spector's eyes behind the red filter; they looked angry and disappointed.

"Yes I did," Spector sneered, his squeaky voice coming out in a long drawl. He paced away from Brian with his back turned and hands clasped together behind his back at his lower waist.

"But you said, you are a police officer and you know how to handle these things yourself. You wanted to impress us, perhaps you wanted more money. You said you would bring her here yourself. And now you turn up empty handed. Your ego has cost you."

The word 'cost' is one of the most painful in the English language. Hearing it elicited emotional pain in Brian searing him like a knife. It meant he was in big trouble and with nowhere to run he started to panic.

"Dr Spector, I can make it up to you," said Brian. He paced after Spector and reached out a hand in panic. "I can go back there---"

Suddenly, he couldn't breathe. The forceful grip of two hands around his neck was overwhelming. The closure of his windpipe and leather gloves burning his skin as they twisted around his neck. All he could see were the lights above him. And they were becoming hazy.

"Let him go," said Spector.

The hands let go of Brian and he collapsed on the ground gasping for air. One of the seven henchmen around had stepped in after Brian got too close to Spector.

"You can't do anything now," said Spector. "Do you know Suno Sadayuki? Probably you don't. He has set up security around Grace's home and now it's a fortress of security."

Brian winced on the ground, coughing on the cold metallic floor. Above him he saw the henchmen, bright spot lights and metallic beams straddled and strangled by wires. This room seemed like the unruly end of the Q division operations, where the 'dirty' work was done. Not like its gleaming white, spotless lab rooms, this place looked like a place where you dispose of things. Or even dispose of people.

"I tried to have Grace followed when I bumped into her and her mother right near here outside on the street. Hmm it's crazy that she decided to dine so close to her old workplace." Spector stopped strolling around... "Yet, the men I had following her were taken care of by Sadayuki's men. They're the type of men who strike fear into yakuza. Our men though big, are no match for them in hand to hand combat."

Brian had never felt so scared in his life. He wanted to stand but his legs felt wobbly. His clammy skin lagged on the floor, with short panting breaths, sweating and a sinking feeling in his c.h.e.s.t, he couldn't utter words, and only shrill sounds left his mouth.

"Get up Mr Burnside," said Spector. "You must face your reckoning now. At least be a man about it."

"Please, please," said Brian, as he stumbled to his feet. Tears welled up in his eyes. "Give me another chance. I'll do anything. I beg of you Dr Spector."

"Don't beg me," said Spector. "You don't have to explain yourself to me."

Brian stumped by the response given by Spector, stopped snivelling.

"Beg him," Spector said pointing to the other side of the room where it was dark. Someone had been listening. Brian heard the person grunt. A real gravelly sound like it had come from a troll in a fairy tale story that lives under a bridge. The sound of feet, creeping towards them, the stillness in the air, the overpowering presence. And the essence of fear; pure, complete and uncomplicated, FEAR.