1 INVITATION

It's not always that life gives you what you think is happiness. I am no infidel but I don't know how the so-called Almighty God plans…

Maybe at the end we are all just here to make up for it…

Thought the old lady as she sat at the bench, staring at the empty grave stone ahead.

It started raining. She showed no reaction, it didn't seem she cared about that fact in the slightest. All of it was a part of her daily schedule now.

"Time is such a bitch…" Muttered a deep, low pitched voice from the back. She heard that but tried not to care. A man in his late 60s walked up, holding an umbrella in his hand.

"Here, grab this…" said the man, passing it to the old lady. She simply took the umbrella, without a word and stared at his face. It did her no good. Her eyesight wasn't as good as it used to be. Maybe the rain was making it even worse. 

The man slowly walked up to the graves she was staring at. There were two gravestones in a row and his eyes were fixed on the second one. At time the old lady noticed the man had a sledge hammer at the back of his other hand. Before she could say a word, the man lifted the hammer and brought it down on the second grave with such force that shattered the gravestone to uncountable pieces. 

The name of the owner along with the words of gratitude to his being were fully shattered. The only remaining part of the gravestone were the years. 

It read, 

1978 to 1999.

*

The year 1999, a marvelous year, one should say. The so-called Humanity was going to inscribe its 2000 year of stay -after the christ- at this Mysterious yet blessful planet that they call The Earth.

Who would have thought that even after all those terrible wars, famines and disasters these species will stick together and conquer the planet. There is no say to it, how much humans are lucky. It's funny to think that not even the primordials were a match for these small yet cunning species. But that aside now comes the hard part, to see it they continue their progress or will perish like the ones that they made to parish. Afterall evolution itself is a big race.

These were the lines published on the front page of the anonymous paper 'The Anomaly'.

Dated: 17th December, 1999…

It was already half way through December and with everything here and there, everyone was working hard in order to make up for their desired christmas and upcoming new year. 

The clock blissfully striked five in the evening. Even if not many believed in it, Trace knew that for a normal office worker like himself, it was the time that brings a small smile at the edge of their faces, the time that marks their freedom for the rest of the day. Just the mere thought about it made him happy. What could he have wanted more than this after such a hard day at work.

A cold breeze with the smell of the winter braised itself through the window into the room he was sitting in. He stood up and walked in, in order to close it. He was somewhat relieved thinking that the hard part of the day had finally ended. On doing so, his eyes stuck to a certain someone sitting on a bench just outside the office gate. The person was looking right back at him. For a second he doubted if he knew that person.

"Trace.." called his colleague, next desk. He already knew what was coming next. Still, he turned, giving out somewhat of an unwanted grin, 

"Hey man, wanna stop by the new pub on Rizo Street…"

Harry Wilmanson, age 24, exactly 3 years older than Trace. Although Trace used to call him Snazz, well there is a good reason for it. He was like one of the shuby guys you can find in every pub, sitting at the farmost corner, as if hiding from someone, drunk in half shot, narrating you stories of their astonishing college days. 

Well, Trace had no problem hearing his stories, the aftermath is what made him pissed. Even before Trace could get properly drunk, this 190 pound heavy guy gets rolling drunk and starts drooling and throwing up all around the pub. Simply nasty.

As a result, in a few two minutes, the two get their asses kicked out of the pub. As of the whole incident, Trace, probably after his 3rd experience, never wants to go anywhere with the likes of these…

"Sorry man, I gotta hit home" said Trace "Got some leftover stuff to take care of…" 

"You sure know how to keep yourself busy, don't you?" Harry frowned.

Trace just nodded quietly, trying his best to avoid him. 

"At least say something man…" said Harry, irritated...

Why don't you just go and get your ass kicked again, fatty! is what Trace wanted to say but couldn't make himself to. All he was able to muster was another shitty old apology for no good reason at all. He felt disgusted doing that…

Trace was still rooke at his job, getting in a bad relationship with his senior would do him no good, not after all the hard work he paid to make his way into this elite company. On that note, he quickly wrapped up his belongings at his desk and made his way downstairs. As he was passing through the receptionist desk just beside the office entrance, Jean, one of the receptionists who was also an old friend of Trace, called out to him. 

"Hey Trace…" she waved. 

The moment Trace noticed her, he stopped and walked to the desk, asking, "What's up…"

"When did you start working at this hour…?" asked Trace..

"My shifts just changed.." she smiled, "So, how are you blending in here…"

"Just fine, not as much as peaceful, it is…" Trace frowned

"Well, everythings got a start." she continued "Forget about that. See, I got something for ya…" she added, handing him a Brown-Gray printed envelope.

"This letter here is addressed to you sir, You may please take it, SIR…" mentioned Jean, acting like the receptionist she was.

"Looks rather old…"

"Do you not wanna see what's inside…?" asked Jean, curious.

"Naah, it's the 7th one this month. I'm already sick of this stuff, the same old business junk…!" Trace replied, killing her curiosity, throwing the dusty thing deep inside his office bag.

"Oo, guess I feel sorry for ya then…" she emphasized, with not much of a sorry expression on her face..

"Save your sympathy, Girl."

She giggled,

"Here, place a sign for me, will'ya…?" handing him the register.

"Trace R.Lartains, such a cool name you got there…" laughed Jane, mocking him. As a reply, Trace frowned, half smiling.  

"Oops, I'm sorry, didn't mean to make you mad.."

Trace didn't have many friends at the capital. Jean was like one of the closest he had there. It wasn't like they were in a relationship, still she was always kind towards him. 

His office was somewhat at the center of the capital of Kastrendo and the apartment he lived in was about a 30 minute walk from there, at the Karowa District. As he was a regular, he had no problem with walking this distance.

With that being said the two waved at each other and he was finally out of the office. As he was walking down, he recalled something. His eyes swiftly shifted at the corner as he glanced at the benches just beside the road. They were all empty. He wondered where that person ran off to. Maybe he was just seeing things, he thought to himself. 

Halfway through his apartment a strange feeling struck him. He felt as if someone was tailing him. He turned to look a few times but could see no one. Anxious, his walking turned into a jog. 

To reach his apartment he had to cross the Downtown lane. There was nothing out of the ordinary about that pathway, leaving the fact that people can easily get lost in there, due to the cross roads. 

Moving on, in order to confirm his suspicion he followed different turns and finally halted his steps to sight, a coat wearing individual at a corner. The stench of paranoia engulfed him as his mind recalled the morning news headlines… "A man was found dead at the lanes of the south park next to the Downtown lane. His body was brutaly stabbed by a knife. Report says it's the work of a serial killer…" 

Worried, he pounders if that person finds out his address, it can turn into a bigger problem for him. He didn't even have a nice old weapon to protect himself. There was no way he wanted to be in tomorrow's news headlines for the common folk to read. In order to prevent that from happening Trace kept on strolling in the Downtown lane, till the point he was sure that no one was watching his back anymore.

It took quite a bit of time for him to reach his apartment. 7:26 pm showed his wristwatch. The last he checked was when he was at the gate of his apartment. This time he made sure no one was following him. Trace was worn out due to the whole event. As he entered the apartment and walked to the lift, a freshly poured sign of 'Out Off Service' flashed at its doorway. 

"O' Hell No..! You can't be serious…!" cried Trace, he had it enough for a day now.

His room was on the 3rd floor of his apartment and now that was a proper punishment for him for being a sucking paranoid. Every step that he took felt like a beating to him. He was almost at the state of passing out the moment he reached his doorstep. He didn't even have the energy to open the door hence he just sat at his doorstep, half dead.

"Well done, now THAT you'd call a hard day at work….!!" he heard someone say from his right.

"Here, try some of these," the unfamiliar voice continued, "You must be thirsty…" 

A bottle of what seemed like water was held in front of his eyes. He absent mindedly grabbed it and finished it in an instant. That day Trace understood the true value of the liquid that we call water. His whole body felt uplifted as the auspicious drink braced his insides with the calm coolness of its being.

"See… I knew that would work, you guys are all the same." the voice uttered in a cheerful tone from his right.

Back on his senses, he quickly turned, searching for the kind soul who was generous enough to give him the thing he just needed at the moment. 

As he turned, his eyes met the sight of a young lady sitting right beside him.  She had a round summer hat on her head and was wearing an old style designer frock. 

Astounded, he kept on staring at her, struggling to remember where he had seen her before. She just looked so familiar to him almost as if he knew her too well to be true. 

"Is there something on my face…" she asked, seeing him dazed, staring…

"No-no it's fine" Trace shook his head "I was wondering, do I know you from somewhere…?"

Sigh* 

"Is that the first thing you want to ask me?" She stood up. "Well nevermind, I should better introduce myself first…" 

"I'm known by the name Nate Field, and correct me if I'm wrong, you must be Mr Trace R.Lartains…" she stated, pointing at him… "Did I pronounce it right..?"

"Field…hmm" Trace repeated her surname. It reminded him of a past memory he had when he was a kid. He recalled the one time he saw a bunch of letters at his home from someone who had the same surname, 'Field…'. On him asking his mother… "Mom, who is this person you keep getting letters from…?" to which she would smile and say "Aaa… It's from __________, Don't chu remember him, Hun…?" He tries but fails to recall the name of the individual.

"Yu-hu… Boy? You there…?" Startled by her call, he quickly recovered himself from the past. He then asked her how she knew him, 

"Your name is over the Tunnels boy, even the CAT's know who you are…" She laughed. Trace looked dumbfounded, he didn't even have the slightest idea of what she was talking about.

"Although… I wouldn't prefer this the best time to talk about it…"

"Wait-Wait, Tunnels? CAT's? What do you mean by that?"

"Ok..!Ok…!! I get it"

"See there is no need for you to get all worked up, boy I'm just here to pick you up…" Nate confessed.

"Pick. me. up. wait-wait-wait, Do you mean, you want me to go somewhere with you…"

"See, if that's the case, it's a no. You see I'm really greatful to you for that water and all, but I'm really sorry, I can't go with you…" explained Trace "I'm really tired and there is some stuff I need to care as well.."

"Trace-Trace-Trace you're not getting it, your life depends on it.."

"I-I see…" smiled Trace. 

"I'm serious over here…" she yelled.

Trace then tried to ignore her and slowly stood up inorder to open the door to his room. As he looked at the door knobe, he noticed a black coat hanging through it.

"T-This C-C-Coat…" Trace whispered. He could never forget that plain black coat…

"You are the one who was following me, back in the Downtown lane, weren't you…?" He objected, stepping away from her…

"My Coat?" She signed, glanced at her coat, wondering what Trace said.

"Oh! I see where it's coming from…."

"Now-Now, so you actually thought I was followin you Aae…"

"That's why, no wonder it took you an extra hour just to return home…" Trace could see her canine fangs, fancy out of her grin, as she uttered those words…

"I'm not going anywhere with you…!" he said as he quickly opened the door to his room slippedin in an instant, shutting the door against her hands…

"Trace…! Trace…!! Wait-up, listen to me...!!"

"Please listen to me..!" Nate called out, banging at his front door.

"No-No-No, this is not how it's supposed to be…"

***