Creative

Locked Doors – Chapter One

Main Piece – Portfolio

“You’re the man with the package?” The voice was quiet and assured, every syllable precisely clipped. Callum looked to the source and saw two men sitting at a corner table, silhouetted by an antique lamp. The man on the left was broad and bald headed, sitting with his ankle crossed over his knee, whilst his companion, the speaker, sat next to him, to the right of the lamp. The speaker was sat perfectly upright. His hair was white, thinning on top and cut short at the sides. A thin tie pin depicting a sword crossed with two clubs clasped his purple tie to his pristine white shirt. His gaze was unflinching, staring at Callum as if he were pulling words and thoughts straight out of the courier’s subconscious.

“You have brought the package” the white haired man repeated. Callum didn’t feel like he had been asked. He felt that he had been told.

“If you are Mr Saint Pierre, then yup, I’ve got a package for you. I just need you to sign on the line and I will be out of your hair,” Callum instructed.

“No, no, I don’t need to sign on any line,” the man Callum thought was Saint Pierre replied calmly.

“You’re not Mr Saint Pierre?”

“I am Mr Saint Pierre. But I don’t need to sign for the package.”

“You do, I’m afraid, or I can’t let you have it.” Oh good, some fun and games, thought Callum, another one who can’t handle a lunchtime drink.

“I don’t want it,” smiled Saint Pierre. It was an unnerving grin, how a snake would smile if it had lips.

Callum gritted his teeth. He was running out of steam.

“Someone wants to give it to you, or they wouldn’t have given it to me to bring to you,” Callum stated, frustrated. The waiter didn’t react to the rising tension and remained polishing glasses. The man in the chair next to Saint Pierre had yet to move, not even a flicker of the face.

“You are incorrect, my boy. The package is not for me, rather it is for you. It was just that you needed to be here to open it. And the only way to ensure you received and opened the package in this exact location was to have it sent to me, here and now, and to have you carry it here yourself. Understand?”

Callum didn’t understand. His stomach tightened, he was back on the bike, bracing for another impact.

Enslaved – A Treatment

Treatment – Master

(Based on Enslaved: Journey to the West (Ninja Theory, 2010)

“A small helicopter buzzes past overhead, the SLAVERS looking for MONKEY and TRIP. The pair duck into a building for cover but it quickly becomes clear that no respite will be offered here. MECHS, artificial soldiers and the last vestiges of the war that destroyed humanity, follow them inside. With no more human masters, these MECHS follow their programming blindly, hunting for any humans that have strayed into their territory. TRIP, panicking, accidentally alerts the MECHS to their presence and a game of cat and mouse is played through the building, the pair unarmed and overmatched by the robots. The MECHS corner them on a staircase and climbing to the rooftops is the only escape. MONKEY and TRIP reach the roof, but this only serves to alert the SLAVERS who chase them as they scale the rubble of a neighbouring collapsed building, trying to make for the relative safety and foliage of Central Park. They make it, but the MECHS and SLAVERS are close behind.

The three groups converge in Central Park, weapons are fired and TRIP and MONKEY dive for cover.The indiscriminate MECHS create chaos by attacking everyone. TRIP and MONKEY escape the battle whilst the SLAVERS are busy and keep moving towards the Lincoln Tunnel. The commotion has alerted another danger, hidden and waiting in the park; a DOG MECH, a vicious hunting machine, eight feet tall and predatory on four legs, now has their scent.”

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