Oddity and Mysterious Gazes
Something, a mighty entity, had arrived in The Windy City some weeks ago, and it had disturbed the invisible net of Divinity enveloping the areas tens of miles in radius around downtown. This entity was out of place; something that shouldn't have been there, in that timeline. Or in that world, for that matter.
This disturbance hadn't gone unnoticed by individuals possessing high enough Divinity; those on a level closer to the entity than the rest of the populace. These were some of the most influential people in the world who happened to be residing within the city at the time. A part of their inner senses that had been honed for decades to perceive big changes around their circles could feel the entity's presence. They couldn't tell if it was an extraterrestrial object or an intelligent alien being, or something entirely out of their scope of imagination. All they knew was that the entity had brought with it many unpredictable possibilities, and they had to prepare themselves for what that might entail in the future.
Akira Kanagawa was among the few who had felt the presence of this strange entity. The middle-aged man was the current president of Kanesei Motor Corporation, a massive Japanese automotive manufacturing company. The company spanned across many nations, its large influence unquestionable.
He was currently staying in his mansion in Evanston, Cook County. It was his home away from Japan, as his wife was American and his daughter had chosen to live in The States. It had been during one afternoon golf practice when he suddenly felt a surge of chaotic aura from down south.
The hairs on his neck stood up, the alarm in his mind screaming the foreboding sound of impending changes. Changes that would push the Fate of the world away from its intended course. Somehow, Akira could tell that the path the world was originally supposed to take had been slightly altered, that the events that would happen in the current future weren't supposed to happen in the original timeline.
There was only one word Akira could come up with to call this entity: an Oddity.
It had been two and a half weeks, and during that time, Akira could feel the chaotic aura coming from where the entity might be was slowly beginning to settle down. Until one day, it had gone completely quiet. Or maybe not quiet; the entity was just done adjusting itself to this world, therefore allowing itself to blend with its surroundings.
Akira put the cup of tea he was drinking on the mahogany desk in his office. He looked to the side, out the window that overlooked the expansive garden adorned with well-maintained flower beds and freshly pruned evergreen shrubs. "So, the Oddity isn't the only variable here…" he muttered, a contemplative look coloring his aged face.
Now that the Oddity had settled down, it made it easier for Akira to notice another aura of an even greater might lurking from an even further place than where the Oddity had arrived. Safe to say, it might as well be otherworldly. From the subtle fluctuations in the aura observing the Oddity, Akira was able to guess that it was getting restless because of the Oddity's presence.
This was something entirely new to him. He had never felt such powerful aura before, nor had he felt the distant presence of something as odd as, well, the Oddity. It was even strange to him that he was able to tell the behavior of these auras, to the point where he could perceive that a storm was currently brewing in the background. And the otherworldly power wanted it to come as soon as possible. Though whether its desire was to be fulfilled or not, nobody knew.
Pulling himself out of these thoughts, Akira called for his butler. After a few knocks on the door, Akira let in a tall man with a neatly trimmed mustache wearing a butler uniform.
"How may I help you, sir?" asked the butler.
Akira leaned his back against the chair, his elbows resting on the armrests and his fingers interlocking. "Now where has my little tigress gone to this time?"
"Miss Michelle went out one hour ago, sir. She said she was going to a pool party at Mr. Baranov's house," answered the butler.
Hearing his butler's reply, Akira sighed. "I hope she's able not to cause trouble this time."
---
"Mika! How long are you gonna stay dry? Come join us!" a tanned woman in a swimsuit shouted from inside the swimming pool.
The person who was being shouted at was a half-Asian woman in her early twenties. Her bob-styled black hair glistened under the summer sunshine, and her glossy lips were pursed around a plastic straw, slurping cocktail. Wearing a black swimsuit, she was reclining on a lounger. Hearing herself being called, she slid up her sunglasses, gave the woman a middle finger, and slid the glasses back down.
"Tch! Always so arrogant," mumbled the tanned woman. "Does she realize she was only invited because Alexei fancies her?"
"Forget it, Clarice. You know Mika's always been like that," said a guy with a full package of what made a Greek god's body. "Not gonna lie, though. Her aloofness kinda turns me on."
"Ugh, control yourself, Mateo," replied Clarice.
Ignoring the two's chatter, Mika was lost in thought. These past few days, she had been feeling a little tingle on the back of her neck that gave her the heebie-jeebies. It was a feeling one got when they knew they were being watched, specifically with a predatory look. Weird thing was, she could tell the feeling wasn't coming from anywhere near her.
It came from…above. As in, the sky.
The feeling had started one afternoon during her session in a shooting range. It had especially peaked right after she hit the bullseye eight times in a row. After realizing what the feeling was, she had tried to meet the gaze out of curiosity and also as a challenge. So she looked up. Only to find the feeling intensified, making it clear to her the intention of whoever or whatever the gaze belonged to. It wanted her. Whatever that meant.
At first, the experience made her lose a couple of night's sleeps. But eventually she was able to ignore it, though she knew the look had never let up. It kept its eye on her, twenty-four-seven. Getting uncomfortable because of it would be understatement of the year.
She hated the feeling but knew there was nothing she could do about it. It even made her wonder how she was able to sense it. She assumed that was because for some unknown reason, that thing wanted her so very bad its strong desire had leaked out.
Mika set the cocktail glass on the table on the side of the lounger and stood up. Right now, getting into the pool might not be a bad idea to help her ignore the mysterious gaze. That goddamn pervert could stare at her all it wanted; she couldn't give a fuck. She just wanted to let it know that no matter how much it was bothering her, it wouldn't be able to keep her from enjoying life.
---
Inside a solitary confinement cell in Menard Correctional Center in southern Illinois, a forty-something year-old man with a buzz cut was sitting in a meditative position. Within the silence, only sound traveling through the stifling air was the man's controlled exhales. His face showed a serene expression, as if there was nothing in the world that could bother him.
Serving a life sentence after being convicted of killing over ten men and women, Greg Woods had been relying on meditation as a way to fill the void that was his life. With a calm mind, he was able to just…forget. About his victims and the reasons he had done those things.
During the trial days, which had been broadcasted throughout the nation, people had often expressed their frustration that death penalty had been abolished in the state of Illinois. At this extreme response from the public, he wasn't upset. Instead, he grinned proudly. He had become one of the nation's most notorious big bad wolves, earning his name a place among those who'd preceded him.
Years of being in confinement after that, he had come to realize how meaningless such way of thinking was. That pride had slowly lost its fire, leaving him feeling like an empty shell. Though, being the way he was, he failed to feel this apparently rehabilitative emotion called remorse. He had heard people mentioning it so many times it made him sick. But the emotion had never come to him.
All he felt was…a whole lot of nothings.
That was until a few days ago, when he suddenly felt a strange gaze locked onto him from above. Oddly enough, instead of making him feel uncomfortable, it gave him a feeling he thought he had lost: hope. It felt as if he had been chosen to do great things in the future, and that all he had to do now was await his chance to come. Whatever it was that had chosen him, he was sure to gladly follow its desire, as long as he could feel again.
Greg Woods was patient. He would bide his time until this being of power gave him the strength to get out of that goddamn cell and remind the world that he was still around.