Phoeq | Chapter One, Part One

by Jupiter Says Hey in New York City

A/N: Hey guys! Umm. Okay. I haven't posted anything in a really long time, because I've been working on this, and I know, it's not much to take up so much time, but I just moved, and that's taken a lot of time from me.
So, now I have something else to say. Ever heard of The Hidden? P/23? Okay, well, this is the new and only version. I promise you! I will no longer change it! If so, you have the right to yell at me (: No bad words though. Heehee. Okay, so please comment (: It'll mean sooo much.

Chapter One

          They shone by the thousands. There were so many of them, just like in the night sky, making Jas's plan commence to seem unrealistic. Mason caught on too.
"Hey, Jas," Mason called to the scrawny nine-teen year old sitting in front of his many computer monitors alining the wall. "We're starting to doubt your so-called 'major skills'."
"Well, that's going to change in only a matter of seconds, my little friend." Jas murmured, his glassy gaze never leaving the main screen. He was hunched over his keyboard, his fingers rapidly pressing and realising on different keys. What he typed has always been a mystery to me. It was all just gibberish, but to him it made sense. It was as if he made up his own little written language out of the 26 words in the alphabet and every basic number. With an unexpected spin of his chair, Jas turned halfway to grin at us. His bleach blonde hair covered his one eye and the worn-out eye patch he's been using since he was fourteen, all thanks to one screw-up. Tonight he was going to get revenge--or at least that's what he said.
"Let the chaos..." His hand traveled to the keyboard again, and with one finger he pressed a single key: enter. "Begin." We all dashed to the nearest window over looking to the Moneyed side of the City, to see if it was time to celebrate or, in Mason's case, say "Total fail, man.".

But now, all that came out of Mason's mouth was, "Damn, he's good." Accompanied by thousands of screams while the cherished lights of the Moneyed flickered at divided times and finally vanished into the night's Cimmerian shade. Panic was flitting from place to place tonight. It was...soothing.
"Ahh, sweet revenge." Jas chuckled lighting the nearest candle stub. Even his lights went off at the press of the button, but his computers stayed on thanks to the battery they were plugged in to.
"You are the greatest hacker of all time." I muttered, still gawking at nothing but a blanket of black and concealed screams.
"And hopefully, this little electricity malfunction ends up in thier expensive history books." he chuckled slightly. "Come on, let's go to the roof."
"Actually, Mason and I have to go. Nicolai will probably be waiting for us. We can't keep him up." I grabbed Mason's little hand and started for the stairs that lead out of his basement.
"Suit yourself. I'm going to go enjoy some screaming rich people."

"You don't have to hold my hand." Mason hissed, his words accumulating a venomous sting. He snatched it away, rubbing away the pain from the tight grip as we walked down the beaten up sidewalk.
"And you have no right to be saying bad words."
"I'm sorry, but it was worth it. Seriously, who else do you know that can hack the electricity system of the Moneyed? Jas is a pure genius!" his thirteen year old voice was raised to a level that could be heard throughout the barren streets of the Slums, an echo rising from the estranged alleys.

Something was wrong.

"I worship Jas now! He's amazing! I swear, if I go to him with at least 5 ocae coins--" I interrupted his random rambling with my firm grasp around his wrist.
"Those are five ocae coins we don't have. Now c'mon, let's go." I pulled him away faster. There was a sudden urge in running, running away from the vacant streets. These streets were always moving, always filled with the occasional homeless, gamblers, smugglers, and thieves. Tonight, not a single soul ruffled through these roads. There was an eerie sensation roaming tonight. One I didn't want us to be a part of.
"What's wrong?" Mason questioned, not at all fighting his way from me, he was acutally helping us by running along. He never gets stubborn. I'm fortunate to have such a great little brother.
"What's wrong with this image?" I whispered to him, slowing down our pace.
"What do you mean?"
"It's never like this. The Slums are never...alone."
"So? Maybe it has something to do with the lights."
"Doubt it." I muttered. "That doesn't stop people from coming out."
We decreased our speed into a rapid walk, caution level rising to the supreme height and above; even at the slightest sound, real or thought-up, I flinched, gasped, and almost screamed. Imagine both of our reactions at the unexpected chuckle that rose from the alley that we passed a few steps ago. Mason let out an exaggerated gasp, while I squeezed his hand, nearly breaking his fragile bones at the sudden fall of a glass bottle, but nowhere near breaking. An empty vodka bottle rolled out into view, creating direful vibes that weaved their ways into me, sending a trembling chill down my spine.
"Did I scare you two kids?" an eldery voice questioned. He came out in the dim moonlight accompanied by the subtle glow of the many stars that almost never had an eye rested upon their bright beauty. He was homeless, that was obvious, and he seemed to have taken place in a horrible accident--at least that's what I thought because of his missing left arm.
"No--" Mason began, but was interrupted by my concealed slap upside his head. "Oww..."
"We've got to get going." the answer was instant, there was no hesitation at all whatsoever, especially when I noticed his wobbly steps, and babaric smirk. The man was drunk.
"What's the rush?" he started, with every uneasy step he toppled to one side, then regained his balance. Talk about being too tipsy.
"Have a nice day, sir." I twirled Mason around, facing toward where we were heading in the first place.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Back it up, sweetheart. Why don't you stay here with me? Enjoy the beautiful night. Who knows, maybe they'll spare us."
We began to strode away, ignoring his comments, but curiosity unexpectedly surged through me. I tried to fight the urge, but there was something about his last sentance that gripped my mind. I pivoted, facing the man, a questioning facade illuminating my face.
"Nylie..." Mason whispered, tugging on my arm. "What are you doing?"
The man chuckled, making his way toward us, paying no attention to his lack of balance.
"That's what I thought," with two fingers he gripped my chin, tilting my face at just the right angle so he could get a good view. "You're a cute young thing." I jerked back my head, attempting a glare and succeding.
"Why did you say that?" I asked.
"Well, because it's true. You're eyes are really big and pretty; my daughter used to have that same hair...long, wavy, and dark. And you're skin...reminds me of the moon, with a hint of tan."
"You know I'm not reffering to that." he actually did get my image right though. My eyes were wide, a metallic silver swirled through my irisis, and to my surprise, and others, it seemed as if were to flow like a river submerged in silver moonlight. My hair mimicked an ocean's waves, but instead of sea-green it was a dark brown nearly converting into a pitch black. And my skin--my skin is a satisfying pale, not one that made you cringe in utter disgust.
"Oh, right, right." he inhaled then exhaled, blowing his alcoholic breath into our faces. "I'm talking 'bout them people up there." with his mud brown eyes, he glanced up at the sky, the stars reflecting off of his irisis.
"Are you talking about angels?" Mason asked, steping into view, finally leaving his hiding spot behind me.
"Angels ain't real, kid. I'm talking about..." he looked around and leaned in closer to Mason's face. "Intruders. Invaders... Aliens."