New York City

1996

"All our times have come

Here but now they're gone

Seasons don't fear the reaper

Nor do the wind, the sun or the rain...we can be like they are

Come on baby...don't fear the reaper

Baby take my hand...don't fear the reaper

We'll be able to fly...don't fear the reaper

Baby I'm your man..."

     Desmond Pierce closed his eyes as the music filled his ears, blocking out all of the other sounds around him. The melodic chant reverberated in his head and his heart seemed to beat in rhythm with the music. There was no time, there were no days; there was only the melody.

     "Desmond!" a voice said from far off.

     Desmond ignored the voice, instead he listened to his song and let himself drift along with the tune. Music was so simple to him; it conveyed emotions simply through the usage of sound. Sometimes, he would just shut himself up in his room for hours and live in the world of sound because it was like an escape for him.

     "Desmond!" the voice said, that time louder.

     There was a yanking motion as Desmond's headphones were pulled off, and he quickly glanced up into the eyes of his father. He immediately regretted ignoring him and could not look the man directly in the eye.

     "Yeah?" Desmond said, feeling a familiar annoyance fill him. "What?"

     Desmond's father, Aaron Pierce, was dressed in a crease-free black suit paired with a riveting blue tie. His hair was gelled back and his beard neatly combed, both characteristics that added together to create a man of power. Aaron Pierce's eyes, the same hazel eyes that Desmond had, stared through him with a startling intensity. He took a hold of Desmond's headphones and held them in front of his son's face.

     "What did I tell you about using these?" he asked.

     Desmond shrugged, "That I shouldn't use them....because they're a -"

     "Distraction," Aaron Pierce interrupted, winding up the cord and placing the device next to Desmond. "Desmond you have to stay focused. Someday," he gestured around the room, "all of this is going to be yours," he paused. "Do you remember what a good businessman is?"

     "One who doesn't waste a single moment," Desmond recited. "I know this Dad you've told me like, a million times."

     "Exactly," Aaron Pierce answered with a look of pride. "We are a family of businessmen. Tell me, you're what...fourteen years old?"

     "Ten," Desmond answered, "I'm still ten."

     Aaron Pierce smiled, "But you cannot run away from the fact that someday you will be fourteen, correct?"

     Desmond looked quizzically at his father, "Yeah..."

     "It's just like how you can't run away from the fact that you will be the head of this business," Aaron Pierce mentored, once more picking up Desmond's headphones. "These will only distract you, and I say this only because I see so much in you Desmond."

     Desmond looked around the room. He and his father were in the lobby of the headquarters for Pierce Enterprises, the company his family had built for generations. The lobby was beautiful, with fountains and arching windows allowing viewing of the Manhattan metropolis outside. Potted plants decorated a majority of the lobby, his dad had always been a fan of nature, and they seemed to give the lobby an almost-natural look. All throughout the lobby, people dressed in expensive clothing scurried around talking eagerly about the constant business that was being conducted. It was a truly magnificent sight to see, and Desmond's father never wasted a moment not telling him how many decades it had taken to build such a company. It was his life, and someday it would be Desmond's life too...whether he liked it or not.

     "Aaron!" a female voice, Desmond's mother, called from across the lobby. "You're going to be late."

     "I'll be right there!" Aaron Pierce called before turning back to Desmond. "I've gotta go, and you're going to wait here okay? James is going to look after you," he pointed to the security guard dressed in black standing next to a potted plant, "and I'll be back in about an hour. While I'm gone, look around and observe. I guarantee you that there's never a boring moment here."

     Desmond nodded his head and his father stood up to walk away. James immediately stepped forward in Aaron's place and crossed his arms. Desmond sighed, looking up at the vacant eyes and muscular physique. He reached out and put his headphones back on.

     Across the lobby, a figure dressed in a large trench coat walked in. Desmond saw him out of the corner of his eye but dismissed him; instead he listened to his music. The man in the trench coat caught the eyes of a couple of security guards and they began to circle the new stranger.

     Desmond looked across the lobby, about ten feet, and saw his father consulting with a couple of other men dressed in similar dark suits. They looked like they were deep in conversation about matters of business, and all of them were oblivious to the man in a trench coat slowly walking deeper into the heart of the lobby. Desmond closed his eyes, instead letting himself fade back into the sound waves of Blue Oyster Cult. But through his headphones, he suddenly heard someone yell and he opened his eyes just as the man in the trench coat clicked a device in his hand. Time seemed to slow down for Desmond just long enough for him to see a curious tattoo snaking around the man's forearm.

     Then the world exploded.

     James, who had been observing the situation since the beginning, was prepared to do anything to protect Aaron Pierce's son. When he saw the man in the trench coat adjust his grip on a small receiver he had thrown his body over Desmond to protect him.

     "Get down!" he screamed, the blinding explosion rippling through the world behind him.

     A blazing light, accompanied by fire, erupted from the center of the lobby in a heated blast. The shock wave threw off Desmond's headphones and he tried to scream, but the sound was lost. There were yells and cries as the building shook and clumps of rubble fell from the ceiling.

     Desmond lay on the ground, protected from most of the blast by James. He squeezed his eyes shut in terror while calamity and anarchy ensued around him. There was so much that he could barely take all of it in, and instead all he could do was focus on the constant ringing in his ears. There was a thump and Desmond slowly opened his eyes. He saw James lying on the ground next to him, but his eyes stared vacantly off into the distance. From his chest there was a large piece of metal protruding and blood pooled on the ground next to him. Had the metal gone any further it would've killed Desmond.

     Desmond screamed and crawled away, coughing in the dust and scared of the sudden creaking metallic sounds around him. He looked around and saw he was surrounded by dozens of motionless bodies, each covered in gory wounds and heavily-smudged in dirt. Desmond began breathing quickly while sweat pooled on his head and as terror seized his soul.

     "Dad!" he cried, tears dripping down his face. "Dad where are you?"

     There was no response, and nearby a chunk of ceiling fell just feet away from where Desmond sat curled. It smashed into hundreds of other pieces, and Desmond shielded his face with his scraped hands. Smoke and dust clouded his vision while making also it harder to breathe. The whole world was closing in on the child lying in the middle of the blast zone.

     "Mom?" Desmond cried, beginning to shake. "Dad? Dad?"

     There was still no response. Silence enveloped the room.

     "Dad!!!!!" Desmond cried. "Help me!!!"

**

     "Mr. Pierce!"

     Desmond stood hunched over a sink, his heart beating madly and sweat dripping down his face. His breath came in ragged gasps, and he gripped the sides of the sink so hard his knuckles had long since turned white. He puked into the sink and staggered a little before straightening himself.

     Desmond's face was moistened with sweat, and his entire frame would not stop shaking; it was as if he had just seen a ghost. He closed his eyes for a moment and took several deep breaths, trying to still the beating of his heart. Desmond then hesitantly looked into the mirror and wiped glistening tears from his cheeks. He gazed deep into his hazel eyes and shortly-cut brown hair while trying to regain his former composure.

     "Mr. Pierce?" the same voice asked again through the door.

     "Not now!" Desmond called while he tried to stifle his gag reflex. "GO!"

     "Mr. Pierce," the voice said, the bathroom door creaking open. "Are you all right? Do you need to cancel?"

     Out of the corner of his eye, Desmond could see his assistant: Jessica. She was in her mid-twenties, had flowing blonde hair, and two crisp-blue eyes. Jessica paused for a moment, seemingly hesitant to enter the bathroom. She knew he was having a panic attack; it had been in her job description.

     "Go away!" Desmond yelled while ripping a paper towel from the dispenser and wiping his mouth. "You know to leave me when I have an attack!"

     "You're on in five," Jessica answered cautiously. "Are you sure you don't need to cancel?"

     Desmond slammed his hands on the sink and whirled around, "No! I'm perfectly fine. Tell them I'll be there."

     Jessica stepped out of the bathroom with a look of hurt on her face. Desmond returned to the mirror and stared intently at himself. Even though it had been nearly 20 years since the day his parents were killed, the memory still haunted him as if it had only happened the day before. It constantly clawed at him like an animal, and sometimes even the slightest trigger could set the attack off. Desmond shuddered before he straightened his black tie and suit.

     He stepped out of the bathroom and walked down a hallway towards the stage. Desmond paused for a moment as a couple of men hooked up microphones to him. While they worked, he listened to the booming narrating voice outside. As the voice talked, several photos were displayed on the giant screen behind the stage. They depicted Pierce Enterprise's history from the beginning to the present:

     "...Pierce Enterprises, the multi-billion dollar company that spans several industry sectors, has become the pinnacle of scientific advancement in the late 20th and early 21st centuries. This anniversary of the company marks an important milestone in its journey. Started by the late Aaron Pierce, Pierce Enterprises has grown to unprecedented levels and was inherited by the very-able Desmond Pierce...Aaron's Pierce's son."

     After the comment Desmond could hear some uneasy shifting in the audience, but then the voice continued.

     "Before we close for the night, there will be a closing segment spoken by Mr. Desmond Pierce himself..."

     One of the men tapped Desmond's shoulder and gave him the thumbs-up. Desmond walked out on to the stage and was greeted by a hailing applause.

     "Ladies and gentlemen, Desmond Pierce!" the voice proclaimed.

     Desmond looked out over the audience of thousands who erupted and cheered at his very presence. The auditorium was huge, with a high-arching ceiling riddled with speakers. Thousands of people, seated at various levels of the auditorium, clapped their hands vigorously. Desmond gave a sly smile while he waved to the crowd, and eventually the clamor died as he began to speak.

     "Thank you," Desmond started, his voice echoing through the auditorium, "for this wonderful night. We have seen products and designs that will surely change the future of humanity," he paused. "Or at least I hope."

     There were some giggles from the crowd as he continued.

     "You know it really touches me to see all of this success," Desmond said, "because deep down inside I know it's what Dad would've wanted. He once told me that this business was my future...that it was my destiny. He told me that he saw great things in me and, at the time, I didn't really believe him. But now..." he gestured to the crowd, "...now I see that his dream has come true."

     The crowd was dead-quiet as Desmond took a dramatic pause.

     "But the real question..." Desmond started. "Is how are we going to celebrate this momentous occasion? Yeah, I know there was the heart-wrenching montage of photos and now I'm giving this truly moving speech..." Desmond paused in the midst of the mumblings of excitement. "How are we going to show my father," he pointed upwards, gesturing to the skies, "that we have really made this company become what he had always dreamed?"

     The crowd shifted again, hanging on to every word the speaker said.

     "And the answer is...." Desmond took another dramatic pause, "...a REAL CELEBRATION!"

     Desmond pointed upwards to one of the tech guys and blaring music shot out from the speakers. Everyone began to dance and scream with laughter as music filled the auditorium. There were bangs and confetti rained from above while the people below went absolutely hysterical. Someone rolled a platter of champagne onto the stage next to Desmond.

     Off-stage, everyone had started clamoring. Jessica stood with her mouth agape and heard her boss exclaim, "This one's for you Dad!" before he popped open a bottle of champagne that splattered all over the stage.

     "Did you know he was going to do this?" one of the tech guys asked, having a look of anxiety crease his face.

     Jessica shook his head, "No...I didn't..."

     "Get the security guards down there now!" someone yelled into a receiver. "We're going to have a riot! He's giving out free champagne!"

     Jessica shook her head as people spilled out onto the stage and started dancing to the blaring music. She heard her boss howl with laughter while ladies started piling all up around him.

     "YOU SEE THIS DAD?" Desmond screamed into his microphone. "LOOK AT WHAT I'VE DONE WITH PIERCE FRICKING ENTERPRISES!!!" he yanked the microphone off himself and there was a burst of static as it hit the ground.

     "Get the security now!" some exclaimed.

     "He planned all of this!" another yelled.

     "Get the manager on the phone!" someone cried.

     Jessica looked at all of the files in her hands and sighed. She pushed them into a nearby trash can and stormed off.

     On-stage, Desmond bumped into somebody and they fell off. However, he did not care. He was Desmond Pierce, and he could do whatever he wanted. As he danced like a maniac the feelings of anxiety and depression began to leave him, instead merging with all of the beautiful women around him. Desmond's panic attack had gone, and the gaping hole left by the traumatic event 20 years prior was filled up by gorgeous women and lots of champagne.

**

Hours Later... 

     "You idiot!" one of the managers of the auditorium blared over the phone. "Half the auditorium is in ruins! There's thousands of dollars in damage! Not to mention there's champagne...everywhere!"

     "Bill me, I don't care," Desmond said into the speaker phone as his car rolled down a busy Manhattan road. He had a pounding headache, felt extremely nauseous, and contained an irritated feeling about him.

     "Not to mention someone fell off of the stage and got injured," the voice went on. "They want to sue you!"

     "Whatever," Desmond said nonchalantly, trying to ignore his pounding headache. "Get some lawyers...or whatever I don't care," he turned to one of his body guards sitting in the car seat next to him. "Where's Jessica? She has my medication."

     "Haven't seen her since the party...I mean presentation," the man stammered.

     Desmond sighed and pressed his hands into his eyes, watching stars erupt in his field of vision, "I'm done."

     "Done?" the voice said incredulously. "You aren't anywhere near done! You have-"

     "What?" Desmond interrupted. "I'm, uh, sorry you're breaking up," he nodded his head to his bodyguard who pressed a button on the car door. The angry voice was abruptly cut off and Desmond was left in silence.

     Desmond slouched in his seat and noticed a crumpled up napkin poking out of his pants pocket. He pulled it out and unfolded it, reading the scrawled number etched into the material.

     "Another number?" the bodyguard asked. "Do you want me to dispose of it?"

     Desmond nodded, "Don't tell Rose though. If I keep coming home with women she said it's over between us. She's such a forgiving woman...Rose..." Desmond dozed off.

     The bodyguard took the napkin and tossed it in a trash bucket, "What if she calls?"

     Desmond shook his head with his eyes closed, "So? She's just another woman...give her the usual excuse..."

     The bodyguard nodded, "Hopefully she's not as stubborn as that one from Switzerland."

     "Call Jessica," Desmond responded with annoyance, ignoring the previous comment, while playing with the window.

     The bodyguard sighed, "Mr. Pierce...I'm sorry..."

     "What?" Desmond asked. "Call Jessica now!"

     "Sir..." the bodyguard blubbered, "she resigned. She said she couldn't...take the stress."

     Desmond paused a moment before he hammered his hand on the side of the door, "Dammit! That's the third one this year!"

     "There's more," the bodyguard offered. "You can always hire another."

     "Yeah but none of them were like Jessica," Desmond moaned. "None of them had those...curves...."

     The car screeched to a stop and the driver got out, opening up Desmond's door.

     "Are we here already?" Desmond asked, blinking back the light that pooled into the previously-tinted vehicle.

     "Yes Mr. Pierce," the driver outside said. "Welcome home."

     Desmond crawled out of the car and staggered a little. He caught himself and supported his body on its exterior. Desmond's stomach lurched as the world spun and he vomited into the gutter alongside the parked vehicle.

     "Sir..." the bodyguard said, getting out behind Desmond. "Do you need help?"

     "No," Desmond whispered, while simultaneously staggering across the sidewalk. "I...am doing...just fine..." and then he vomited again.

     The bodyguard simply watched as his boss tried to make his way to the doors of the skyscraper known as Platinum Tower. It towered high above the rest of the city and glistened with modern architecture. Nobody ever spoke about how it was just down the street from the original Pierce Enterprises headquarters that was destroyed 19 years prior. The new building was meant to commemorate that event, along with a memorial further downtown, but Desmond Pierce just used the tower to live in and have dangerous parties.

     When Desmond stopped to lean on one of the pillars close to the entrance, an old homeless man abruptly approached him. The man had been sitting outside of the doorway, possibly waiting for Desmond to return. A bodyguard ran forward to separate his boss from the potential threat.

     "Stay back!" the bodyguard hollered before he threw himself in front of the man. "Take another step and I will taze you."

     The old man stopped, "N-No! I would never do anything to hurt Mr. Pierce. He's such a kind man...just like his father."

     He was dressed in dirty, torn clothing and had a large beard streaked with grey. The old man was about a foot shorter than Desmond, and looked so frail and skinny that the slightest gust of wind could push him over. His whole frame shook with the exertion of standing up and his veiny hands nervously caressed each other. Desmond gave him a quick glance but turned away at the overpowering stench; the man had obviously not showered in some time.

     Desmond leaned his head against the pillar, "What do you want? An autograph? I don't give those out anymore."

     "A-Actually no," the homeless man stuttered. "It's just t-that...these are hard times....and you're so wealthy...perhaps maybe...it's just that I haven't eaten in three days...I got evicted from my home a month ago..."

     "You want...money?" Desmond criticized, straightening himself up from the pillar.

     "W-Well," the homeless man stuttered. "I...yes..."

     Desmond scoffed, "Give you money? Why? What do I look like to you a Samaritan? Get away from my building before my buddy here pumps you with electricity!"

     "P-Please Mr. Pierce!" the old man's eyes filled with tears as he began to beg. "Just a little, please...I have a wife and she's so sick..."

     Desmond paused a moment, seemingly towering over the man, "You're not my problem."

     "I can work!" the old man protested.

     "I don't need more work," Desmond said before he turned away. "Get rid of him."

     "Alright buddy show's over," the bodyguard said as he pushed the old man back.

     "No!" the old man began to weakly struggle. "Mr. Pierce!"

     But Desmond was already disappearing through the doors to his skyscraper while the bodyguard shoved the old man further away from his salvation.

**

Later that Evening...

     Night had fallen on New York City and Platinum Tower gleamed the brightest out of any building. It curved like an arrow towards the sky and was made out of futuristic-looking metal. Platinum Tower was the envy of the entire metropolis, and it had been on the cover of several architecture magazines; prompting much unanticipated publicity that Desmond hated. At the top of the skyscraper was Desmond's penthouse suite which was where he lived.

     After the events that had resulted in the deaths of Desmond's parents, the tower had been created in commemoration. It had also been intended as the new headquarters for Pierce Enterprises, but Desmond instead took the building for himself. Nobody else lived in it except him, save his dozens of bodyguards occupying the building for his protection, and its many floors were furnished with millions of dollars of items that he had picked up over the years. One entire floor was dedicated to antique cars, and another was retrofitted for an indoor pool. Desmond seldom allowed anybody else in his fortress, except when he had lavish parties that usually resulted in somebody getting injured.

     Desmond Pierce sat collapsed on an expensive leather couch situated on the top floor of his penthouse. It had incredible views, allowing anybody to see miles, in every direction, the beautiful city that was known as New York. Desmond would often go up to the topmost levels because he felt the safest. In his mind, nobody would ever be able to get him with a bomb if he was on the highest level of a monstrous skyscraper.

     As Desmond lay on the couch, flipping through the television, he received an email on his phone. He paused on a news channel and turned his phone on. There was a message from Jessica and it read:

Dear Mr. Pierce,

I apologize for not telling you this in person, but as you were drunk on champagne I was uncertain if there would ever be a good time to tell you. I formally resign my position as your assistant because of your erratic behavior and indecency towards others. I apologize for any inconvenience that this may cause you.

Sincerely,

Jessica Smith

     Desmond paused a moment before anger filled him and he flung his phone across the room. It hit a ten-thousand dollar vase he had bought, because he liked the color, and it crashed to the ground. Desmond breathed heavily, feeling his senses calm down. He was alone...he was alright...

     The television blared from across the room and the news anchor explained:

     "In other news, an expedition was launched today in search of an ancient artifact that has been thought to be legend for thousands of years..."

     Desmond smirked; clearly there were people that had too much time on their hands. While he sat watching the television his phone vibrated from across the room and he got up to get it. He squinted through the shattered screen and saw that it was his girlfriend: Rose. Desmond answered the phone.

     "Desmond?" Rose's voice echoed through the device.

     "Yeah it's me," Desmond answered.

     "I saw the presentation," she continued. "It looked like it didn't end very well..."

     "It's alright," he replied.

     "More importantly," Rose said, "you didn't bring home any...guests...did you?"

     Desmond shuddered, "No Rose. We've had this conversation before."

     "I don't know," she answered. "Things are just so uncertain between us lately."

     "Alright," said Desmond, "I'll make it up to you. How about you come over? It can be just the two of us."

     "Really?" Rose's voice brightened. "Nobody else?"

     "Just us," he answered. "Come over anytime."

     "I'll be over in 20," she answered, and then the receiver went dead.

     Desmond sat back on the couch and turned off the television. He leaned backwards and closed his eyes; his mind drifted away.

**

     Meanwhile, down below, several black cars had pulled up to the entrance and men dressed in black combat gear were piling out. They stormed through the entrance and took out the security guards effectively and noiselessly. One of them radioed their backup.

     "First floor secure, move forward," he gruffly whispered into the talkie.

     Desmond Pierce, on the top floor, was completely oblivious as armed men pushed their way up the levels. On every floor they easily took out all of the bodyguards and within minutes they were halfway up the building. When they got to the top floor they paused, and slowly they opened up the door.

**

     Desmond opened his eyes; he felt a disturbance. His body tensed and he slowly looked around, scanning the vast room with his eyes. When he saw nobody, he relaxed. Suddenly, a black, gloved hand swiftly moved in front of Desmond's vision and clamped his head to the back of the couch. Desmond tried to scream but it was muffled, and several other hands clamped him down when he tried to flail. Terror seized him as he felt a prick on his neck and the world began to go dark. Before he blacked out, Desmond could see a dark tattoo snaking along one of the mysterious men's arms.

     "Pierce is secure," one of the men spoke into a receiver. "Objective complete, let's get the hell outta here."

     Another man walked forward, "Explosives are installed."

     The man nodded, and they took Desmond Pierce's wrapped body down into the back of a truck. Everything happened noiselessly, and seamlessly, with no attention being drawn to them whatsoever. The truck drove away and was halfway out of town when the same man spoke into his talkie.

    "Light it up," he whispered.

**

     Across town, Platinum Tower erupted in a fiery blast. It shook the city to its very core, and cars screeched to a halt while people ran through the streets fleeing the burning building. More explosions sent the tower swaying, and anarchy gripped the city as it threatened to topple. Everyone would later assume that billionaire Desmond Pierce had been killed in the blast, but nobody even suspected that the nameless truck was carrying away its victim.

     To the rest of the world, he was dead.