Beaumont Rising.

In the pitch black of night, with much lack of moonlight; the screeching of tires against the cobbled road filled the darkness with a howling fright. As two figures of different build — one tall and thin, and the other short and a bit wide – stepped out of the car. Both swiftly move in the shadows of the night. A moment later, the lights in the nearby buildings turned back on. In the slightly lit up road, they rushed towards the end of the path where the adjoining street was blocked off by bollards. They squeezed through the concrete barriers and made their way towards the open street, adjoined by a narrow canal that ran alongside the path. They ran down the street, making timely stops to frantically look around, searching for something or someone. Just a minute into their search, the streetlamps lit up, filling the area with hazy, yellowish-orange glow. The night had been a cold one, and the fog in the air made everything gloomier than it had been a few hours ago, when the power surge started. But now that the lights were back on, the night seemed less ominous. Or so they thought. But it was about to get worse.

A heavy voice called from the other side of the canal. Another figure with a very stock build stood there on the cobbled street. “Did you find her?” he asked his companions, trying to be discreet, but failing miserably.

“No,” replied the lanky guy, “but she ran this way. Must be somewhere around.”

“Just keep looking,” the buff guy yelled from the other side.. “We need this one.”

They made their way down the street, passing a couple of crossover bridges on the way. The buff guy searched the far side of the street, across the canal, while the skinny one searched the other side with his short companion. A little along their way the lights started to flicker again, followed by a complete blackout. None of the men could see farther than a few feet in front of them.

“We need to hurry,” the big guy yelled. “The power surges are becoming more frequent. He’s almost ready.,”

“We are trying…” the tall guy responded, then brought his voice down to a seething whisper. “Greg!” Frustrated as he was with his boss, he was smart enough not to let him hear it.

“Seriously, why do we have to do this now?” the short guy whispered back. “Couldn’t he make sure that all the girls were there before he started the ritual? Why is everything always last-minute with this guy?”

“I don’t know, man,” the taller one replied. “You know you’ll lose your head if you go around questioning him.”

Their search continued. Over the next few minutes, they steadily made their way down the street. Eventually, they heard traffic nearby – fair warning that they were running out of privacy provided by the secluded street.

“Boss, I think she made it to the road,” the short guy said hesitantly. “We can’t catch up to her in the fog. Should we go back?”

“Shut the fuck up and just keep looking,” came the response from the other side.

They did their best, but struggled to even distinguish between solids and silhouettes. Finally tired of running around and looking in the dark, the short guy leaned against a tree at the edge of the road. Taking in a few breaths of cold air, he felt that burning sensation in his gut slowly start to fade.

“ Paul, just stop for a minute,” he said. “I need to catch my breath, man. We have been running after her for almost an hour.” He slowly lowered his heavy body along the tree trunk to sit down on the cold, paved side of the street.

“Ey, get up,” Paul said in a hushed voice, trying not to attract their boss’ attention. “We have a job to finish, and chasing a girl in a car is not called ‘running.’ You barely ran for five minutes, you fat fuck.”

Paul could barely see his boss from across the width of the canal. Greg was walking around, searching for the girl, his steps frantic as it dawned on him that their plan might be falling apart. The lights flickered for a brief second, then darkness prevailed –. but just then, a muffled squeak grabbed Paul’s attention. He looked towards the general direction of the noise, but the dark ally obstructed his vision. As he took a couple of steps towards the alley, something rustled briefly on the side. The metal clanking solidified his suspicion.

“Did you hear that?” Paul asked. But his partner was sitting clueless on the pavement. “Milo…” with a hushed voice Paul called him out in frustration, motioning his friend to come towards the alley while waving and pointing at him, gesturing to him to stand guard at the entrance.

Reaching close to the origin of the noise he could now see the bins and the pile of trash scattered on the pavement. He looked intently at the pile of rubbish. Reaching for his pocket, Paul pulled out a small, round mesh of rusty metal. Squeezing the ball in his palm, the mesh expanded and lit up with a bright glow, but soon began to flicker rapidly, trying and failing to sustain itself. He lit it up again, concentrating a little harder, but the result was much the same. While the light remained, his eyes swiftly roamed through the pile of trash to find something. Just then, he caught a glimpse of a reflective surface – black acrylic, tinted by the orb’s yellow. It looked like a shoe to him – a woman’s heels, he realized as he looked closer.

Looking back at Milo, he directed his friend to get closer.

Paul took another step, and the shoe moved slightly, retreating back into the rubbish. A smile crept onto Paul’s face as he gripped his hand to form a fist, cutting off the orb in the process. The final bit of light faded, and Paul stepped even closer towards his prey.“Come on, now,” Paul taunted. His grin had become a devious, full-on smile. “You don’t need to hide. We won’t hurt you.”

Milo chuckled at Paul’s statement and brought out a baton that had hung from his belt. As they stepped closer and closer, they were able to make out a girl’s muffled sobs.. In one swift motion, Paul went for her ankle and dragged her from behind the bins and onto the rigid and cold street.

The girl, slightly shorter than Paul and of a slim build, wore a dark-coloured dress that barely reached above her knees. Her black heels clanked against tiny rocks on the pavement as she screamed and struggled to remove herself from Paul’s grip.

Meanwhile, the commotion had caught Greg’s attention “What are you guys doing?” he yelled from the other side of the canal.

“We got her, boss,” said Milo.

“Tie her up,” Greg yelled. “I am coming. Just don’t let her run away again.”

“Don’t worry, boss,” Paul said. “She isn’t going anywhere.”

He grabbed her from the back of her neck while saddling her back. Milo rushed to his aid, grabbing hold of her feet and pinning her in place. Then Paul grabbed her arms with his free hand and brought them behind her back. As he let go of her neck, he reached for a small metal wire in his back pocket and slapped it on to her wrists. The wire grew and wrapped around her wrists, but a second later it lost its strength, wobbled like a noodle, then shrunk back to its original size.

“What the fuck is going on?” Paul yelled in frustration.

“Hey, the boss told you that magic might not work tonight,” Milo said, “especially if we are so close to it. Just use these.” He handed Paul some zip ties.

Paul struggled to put the ties on her, but then Milo used the baton to pass a jolt of electricity into her upper thigh. She yelped in pain, then fell limp. Paul used the opportunity to tie her hands and put a bag over her face.

“We are ready to roll boss,” Milo yelled.

Greg had been searching for a bridge to cross over. He’d heard the sharp female cry from across the river, which had made him chuckle. Then he’d heard Milo call out to him. After another moment of hustling towards his subordinates, he realised that he was going the wrong way – further away from their car. Simultaneously, however, he caught sight of a nearby bridge, right at the edge of the fog. Inertia won the day; he headed towards that bridge rather than turning around.

As he reached the bridge, he saw a figure sitting on its edge, looking down into the water, right in the middle of the arching structure. He slowed down and approached the bridge while admiring the girl from a distance. In a few moments, he stepped onto the bridge and started walking across.

While crossing, he noticed that the girl looked to be in her early twenties and of an athletic build. She sat there with a straightened back and her ass almost hanging off the ledge. As he passed her by, he shot her one final look, then reached the other side of the bridge. He stood there for a couple of seconds before he turned around and started walking back towards the girl. Standing right behind her, he pulled out the baton he had been carrying. The two nubs at the end of the stick started to buzz as the electricity passed through them, ramping up to a crackling noise.

Before the girl knew what was happening, Greg lunged at her – not to push her off, but to grab hold.