Chapter Five

Later in the evening, the group called it a day and caught a bus downtown to the residential area of West Ample Street. Phoenix, however, didn't live too far from the arcade so he jogged home. It took him about six – maybe seven – minutes to get there. And on the way, he saw a man putting up a black-and-white poster on the Boulevard apartment complex from across the street. Written, though he could not determine exactly what the rest said, at the top of the page were the words 𝙼𝙸𝚂𝚂𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙿𝙴𝚁𝚂𝙾𝙽! Phoenix had no idea who the missing person was, but he did notice a lady in black clothing stop by and study the page, seeming puzzled. Maybe she knew something about it.

He didn't think too much of it. Though, it had come across as rather unpleasant that someone, supposedly a resident of Violetwall, had disappeared in the previous days. But it did give the city its own story, Phoenix supposed. Something to make the headlines. 

When he got home, his father, Richard, was watching TV on the sofa, drinking a glass of Pepsi and munching away at tortilla chips. Phoenix could hear it from the front door. 

The fluorescent lights of the hallway had been manually turned down to make it look like a late-night romantic dinner, except his mother was nowhere to be seen and those chips sure didn't scream lovey-dovey. He shut the door behind him. 

Mom's upstairs, he thought.

And it was proven by the sound of his little Bichon Frise rushing down the steps. It barked cutely against the violet walls, jumping up into Phoenix's arms. White fur, fluffy and soft. It wore a pair of toy alien ears, springing up like prongs. 

"Hi-iiii," Phoenix said in what he liked to call his 'doggy voice'. "Who's a widdle cutie-pie?  Yes, you are!" The dog's name was Ruby, but he rarely called her that. The names were mainly 'cutey', 'baby', or 'Rube'. 

"How was it?" the deep voice of Phoenix's father called from the living room. "You were out late again; everything go all right?"

Phoenix crossed the hallway, stood at the living room doorway, hugged the dog some more, and said: "Who's missing?" He put Ruby down and she ran over to the leather couch to join Richard. He was her favourite after all. And normally enjoyed snuggling up against his bulky frame. 

"Missing? In this neighbourhood?" Richard quizzed.

"Yeah, there's a missing person poster downstreet."

"I mean, this city is abnormally huge for its state, so I'm not surprised. What with all the shit that's going on and the poverty in the lower ends." His face bore a striking resemblance to Phoenix, only with a pucker and the early signs of male-pattern baldness. 

"Naw," Phoenix replied. "This weird."

"Who was it?"

"I dunno; that's why I was asking you." Phoenix chuckled, zipping down his silver jacket and heading back down the hallway to put it on a coat-rack.

"Proba'ly a runaway. I'm gonna ask about that down at the office tomorrow. Would be interesting to get some information on it. I'm curious now." His voice was a little muffled now. He resumed eating his chips. 

"It's almost bedtime anyway," Richard continued. "You've school tomorrow so get to bed. And don't spend all night on your computer either. I saw the light radiating through your doorway the other night. Knock it off."

Yeah, yeah, whatever – "No problem," he muttered aloud, taking off his shoes and hurrying up the carpeted stairs. 

When he got to his room, he went straight on his computer. It had been nearing ten o'clock then, and he couldn't quite get over the choppers earlier. In fact, he wanted to cut the conversation short with his father so he could look it up on his gaming computer. He fired it up and typed in: THE SPIRE HELICOPTERS VIOLETWALL. 

The first link led to a Wikipedia article labelled 'The Spire History', and the second was just a link to a video from a couple years ago. So with no luck, he decided to look up about the UFO; he found all sorts of articles that struck him with wonderment. The first was about NASA trying to cover up their mistake of publishing classified information, the second was of the taken-down images (the UFO's), and the rest ranged from theories of an invasion to suppositions of a hoax. One, however, believed the UFO had been used to help fund the foundation; a sneaky scheme to gain money. That was perhaps the most interesting to Phoenix as he hadn't thought of that being a  possibility before. Whether or not they were real, one thing was for certain: it changed the world. 

                                           ~"AMONGST THE SKY"~

The Spire

"LOWER IT! LOWER IT!" General Fraser gestured his hands at the gigantic, metal container. Three of them had been dropped in by Boeing helicopters. They were large rectangles with sharp edges, brown exteriors, and bars that lined over the top. 

He took his glasses off and stuck them in the shirt pocket of his uniform.

The driver of the crate carrier struggled to lower the final container.

Alongside Fraser, Lieutenant Heart stood upright with his hands crossed behind his back like that of a butler awaiting his next command. He was a posh fellow, and it certainly rubbed Fraser the wrong way at times. The lieutenant's white uniform made him look more scientific than anything.

The inside of The Spire was huge. The glass walls surrounded them in a magnificent sphere that glowed a brisk and powerful bluish purple. Along the smooth and clear floor, stood three horizontal lines of purple dashing from one end of the storey to the other. They were in the delivery centre, or in layman's terms, the top floor. 

The moonlight shone in through the recently opened rooftop. 

The big crate carrier beeped at least ten times before lowering the third container onto the floor. The driver stuck his head out the side-window, earmuffs locked on, a yellow helmet strapped to his hair, and a shit-eating grin that coerced his face into wrinkles. "IS HERE GOOD?!"

I might be losing my fuckin mind if they mess up like this one more time. Where do we get these people? FOR THE LOVE OF—

—Christ!" Fraser yelled. "Just leave it here!"

"Will do," the man said. His earmuffs must have hindered his hearing.

General Fraser dropped his arms to his sides and breathed heavily through his nose, then grimaced, revealing an irregular line of yellowing teeth. His beard, dark and well-groomed, dropped a few levelling inches beneath his chin. Looking up at the crates, he turned to Lieutenant Heart and offered him his gaze. "Where do we get these people?"

"Seems like he is a tad bit naive," Heart said. "Perhaps a replacement is in order? You know how many people are looking for work nowadays. And crates as . . . precious as this – well, they have to be kept top-tier."

Fraser watched the crate carrier back away from the delivery centre, beeping as it had done when it first arrived. "Well, it's not about the crate. It's about what's in the crate. And I'm not sure they should let amateurs handle it."

A group of soldiers, dressed in white hazmat suits, made their way towards the metallic object and pulled out miniature weapons of some sort, along with crowbars that seemed as though they didn't match. The weapons had aluminium bodies, buttons on top, green light bulbs that dimmed and brightened continuously, and steel handles.

"All right, ladies!" Fraser yelled. "Open her up."

They activated the weapons by tapping one of the buttons. It made a swift whooshing sound.

It zapped through the steel with a turquoise laser and cut the sidebars open, melting them to liquid zinc and copper.

A foul odour emitted from the crate.

"C'mon!" Fraser coughed.

The group of soldiers gripped the hot steel and forced it open using the crowbars. Then, the smell was much stronger, sifting through the air and tightening Fraser's nose. Lieutenant Heart grimaced and coughed into his elbow.

"So this is it," Fraser said. The shiny aura from the crate steamed open with a grey, smoky fog that reminded him of winter mist. 

Inside, there had been a coffin made of purple metal, bubbly glass, and wires. He took a step closer towards the coffin in the container. He could see it – its big, buggy eyes sticking out of the sides of its head, sleeping. The skin was not grey, but rather a sickening green that resembled a lizard's tail.

Fraser smirked and said, "Finally. We can begin."