Ruby - Prologue

October 4, 2009
Ruby – Prologue


Outside 834 Fifth Street, lightning flashed and thunder roared. The sky was black as velvet and not a single star shone forth. Twenty-five-year-old Luke Bennet sat inside, rocking his daughter Ruby, who had not yet turned one. He hummed to calm and console her, but it wasn’t working. Ruby wanted her mother. Luke sighed, holding her close, wishing his wife would return.

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Emma Bennet crouched behind the chair.

“Come out, come out wherever you are,” sang the voice she’d dreaded.

“You can capture me, hurt me as much as you want, but I won’t tell you what you want to know. You can break every bone in my body, Omega, but I won’t fail my people!” she spat at her enemy as she emerged. She shook back her fiery read hair and glared at him. “You won’t break my resolve.”

Then he laughed, a horrible, loud, piercing laugh as if to say he was having fun with his little game.

“We shall see, Queen, we shall see.”

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Now Luke was really starting to worry. The meeting was supposed to last a couple hours, and it had already been three and a half. He couldn’t wait any longer; he was going out to find Emma. The storm was awful, but he’d risk it. After all, she was probably in the storm too.

He wrapped Ruby in a warm fleece blanket and bent over her to shield her from the rain. Grabbing his keys, he rushed out the door, intending to drive until he found Emma. His mind was hazy; he could barely form a plan. It wasn’t a very good one at that.

The rain was coming down harder than he’d realized. As he walked hunched over to his truck, rain pelted him and rolled down the nape of his neck, chilling his whole body. His clothes were soaked after two steps.

Then he saw it.

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Emma screamed. “You wouldn’t!”

“Oh, but wouldn’t I?” cackled Omega.

Furiously, Emma threw herself at him, reaching for his necklace. So quickly she could barely see the motion, her adversary reached into his pocket…

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A police car sat in his driveway, an officer climbing out. Luke sprinted toward her, practically in hysterics.

“Why are you here? Where’s my wife? Where is Emma?” he yelled over the pouring rain.

The woman held up her hand, saying, “Please, sir, let’s go inside.”

“No! Where is Emma?”

“Sir…” the policewoman sighed. “I’m so sorry. This is by far the worst part of my job. Mr. Bennet, your wife is dead.”





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