Desmond     

     Screams, explosions, crumbling buildings.

     Desmond's eyes abruptly snapped open and he breathed a deep sigh of relief. He was not dead, which was a good sign, but at the same time he was hurting all over. His side felt like someone had stabbed him but left the blade inside, and he felt a set of thick bandages covering his bullet wound. Desmond shifted and sat up, surveying his surroundings.

      He was situated in a cavernous room with high ceilings and delicately crafted walls. Everything around him looked centuries old, and it definitely showed wear and tear from being in the mountains for so long. Desmond traced his fingers along a spidery crack on the wall and could practically feel eons of history resonating through the structure.

      "Whoa," he breathed.

     At the far end of the room there was an archway with stairs spiraling down towards a lower level.  He got up, leaning on the wall for support while also clutching his bullet-wound. After a moment of pulling himself up from his stiff bed, he staggered over and descended the stairway. Desmond painfully walked down the steps, cautious and hesitant to what he may find. He traversed the corridor leading down, clutching his side the whole way.

     "H-Hello?" called Desmond, his voice echoing through the ancient structure.

     He came to the bottom of the stairs and paused, looking down a cavernous hallway. The ceiling arched high above him and Desmond's shallow breathing bounced off of the walls in echoes. He walked further on, carefully analyzing everything before him. There was movement behind him and he stopped.

     "Hey!" Desmond cried, pushing his back against the wall.

    He looked around and licked his chapped lips. When there was no more movement he cautiously continued onward. He wondered where he was, or who he might have been with. Desmond made his way down another hallway and out of a huge doorway. He paused at the opening, taking in the limitless perspective of the mountains. Desmond leaned against the wall and took in several breaths, holding his wounded side. He closed his eyes for a moment and began to relax.

     Somehow, someway, he had survived the catastrophic bullet-wound that had nearly ended his life. How he had, or who had done it, was a mystery to him. At that present moment he felt more curiosity then fear.

     "O-Olivia?" Desmond called out. "Hello?" 

     "Mr. Pierce," an aged voice whispered from behind, startling Desmond. "I'm glad to see you've adjusted well."

     Desmond's eyes snapped to the side and he beheld, in front of him, an aged man. He observed the old man's characteristics: his hair was thin and his appearance suggested a Tibetan descent. He spoke good English, but some of the original Tibetan could still be heard in a few of the vowels he spoke. The man's skin was worn, possibly due to several years of inhabiting the mountainside.

     "You are very fortunate to be alive," the old man continued. "You lost a lot of blood."

     "Who the hell are you?" replied Desmond, getting defensive. He felt vulnerable because he had no weapons.

     The old man smiled, "You can call me Sensei," he paused as he looked at Desmond's side.

     "Sensei?" Desmond asked. "W-What? Why?"

     "I have trained generations of soldiers," Sensei explained. "They called me Sensei, because I was their teacher. I have been, and always shall be, a teacher."

     Desmond opened his mouth but shut it, confused and in pain.

     Sensei took a step forward and he rested his hand on Desmond's shoulder, "I know you have many questions, and I understand that you are very afraid. Your accomplice told me much about you."

     "Who, Olivia?" asked Desmond in an agitated tone. "God knows what she told you..."

     "You must calm down," Sensei warned, worriedly looking at Desmond's bandages. "Keep your heart rate low. Come, you need to go back and rest," he reached out to help Desmond.

     Desmond pushed him away, "Now hold on a second Sensei, don't you touch me."

     Sensei pulled back, "Oh?"

     Desmond started breathing heavily as cramps began in his abdominal area, "I don't know who you think you are, or what mysterious goals you have, but I'm getting out of this freak show."

     Sensei raised his eyebrows, "Really?"

     "I've been beaten, tortured, and experimented on," continued Desmond. "I have every right to want out."

     There was silence, the two staring at each other. Sensei analyzed Desmond as if he were sizing him up.

     "Tell me, Mr. Pierce," inquired Sensei, "do you feel regret?"

     Desmond blinked, "Huh? What does that have to do with anything?"

     "Do you feel guilt?" asked Sensei. "Do you feel a thirst for...revenge?"

     "I don't know what you're talking about..." muttered Desmond.

     "You must be so full of anger..." Sensei whispered, closing his eyes. "An unstoppable anger, that rushes through you like a river..."

     "Stop it," spat Desmond, images starting to dance before his eyes. He clutched his side which had begun to throb even more.

     "Death is such a tragic concept, isn't it?" Sensei asked, looking deep in Desmond's eyes. "Of course, you of all people should be able to understand that."

     "Shut up," whispered Desmond, his body beginning to sway.

     "And now, you just want to run away from it all," said Sensei. "You want to leave it and never bring justice to your killers."

     "You don't know what you're saying," answered Desmond.

     "Their souls, slipped into the void," said Sensei in a hushed tone.

     Screams. Dust curling in the air. Cries for help.

     "You know nothing!" cried Desmond.

     "On that day, you...failed..." whispered Sensei.

     Tears streamed down Desmond's face and he lunged at the old man out of anger. Sensei easily stepped aside and Desmond landed sprawled on the ground. He lay there, shaking and sobbing.

     "Strength and power are no use without control," mentored Sensei while he stood over Desmond's shaking body. "You have demonstrated that you have none."

     "You have no right!" cried Desmond while he lay shaking on the ground. "You have no right to manipulate me like that!"

     Sensei crouched over Desmond and placed a hand on his back, "I know everything Mr. Pierce. Your acquaintance told me about your parents, and I understand."

     "Understand?" Desmond scoffed. "You have no idea how much you don't understand!"

     "The Black Dragon took things from me too," responded Sensei. "I understand your anger, your loss, and your need to bring them to justice. The Black Dragon has destroyed many lives."

     "Justice?" asked Desmond while he leaned into a sitting position, clutching his side.

     Sensei nodded, "To bring justice to them would be to give yourself closure..."

     Desmond looked up, still shaking with rage, "What are you saying?"

     Sensei looked at him, "I'm offering you a chance Mr. Pierce. Do you want an empty life? Or do you want to bring a sense of peace to the monster within you?"

     Desmond looked at his forearms and he looked at the man he had only just met, "How do I trust you?"

     "If it weren't for me, we wouldn't be having this conversation right now," explained Sensei. "Now, what would be the point in saving your life if all I wanted to do was kill you?"

     Desmond shook his head, "I can't trust anyone right now. Not even--"

     "Me?" a voice chimed in.

     Desmond looked up, back toward the doorway, and saw Olivia leaning against the frame.

     "You..." he hissed, launching himself up. "You told this man about what happened to me? You gave him a way to manipulate me?"

     "Desmond..." Olivia started before she shifted into a defensive position. "He can be trusted."

     "No!" Desmond cried. "No more!"

     "Desmond!" screamed Olivia as he lunged at her. "No!"

     "Who are you even?" yelled Desmond while he ran up the steps, ignoring the pain. "You're nothing but a bag of lies! I can't trust either of you!"

     He lunged at her but she grabbed his wrist. Instantly, a blast of peace and security washed through Desmond, combined with waves of color. Olivia exploded in a burst of green, and Desmond's vision instantly became shrouded in darkness. The darkness whipped around him like tentacles, seemingly tied to his very essence. He turned back toward the man who called himself Sensei, but he was blinded with a flash of white light. As he looked at the man he saw no evil or deception. Sensei was pure.

     Olivia let go and Desmond slouched to the ground, washed over with exhaustion.

     "How? What?" he mumbled, a red stain beginning to open up on his bandages. "What happened?"

     "Get him inside!" instructed Sensei.

     Everything was a blur as Desmond's body was pulled back inside and laid on a stiff structure. He faintly saw Sensei bustle around him and apply new bandages to his stained old ones. Desmond felt so weak and he could not help but fade away from reality. 

**

Hours Later...

     Desmond awoke again with a feeling of extreme fatigue. His throat was parched and dry, so he croaked out an inaudible request for water. There was some rustling off to his side, and Sensei's worn face gazed down at Desmond.

     "Water..." Desmond whispered.

     Sensei left and returned with a canteen of water which he gently raised to Desmond's lips. He drank, and felt immediate relief. With his throat moistened, Desmond began to talk to Sensei.

     "Who..." he tried but stopped to swallow. "Who are you?"

     "My name is Sensei," Sensei explained. "That is all you will ever know me as. My real name is of no importance, only the title is important."

     "Where...where did you come from?" Desmond asked, blinking.

     "I used to be an affiliate of the Black Dragon until I defected," Sensei responded. "In my time with them, I was forced to train a majority of what he called his 'disciples'."

     "You defected to here?" asked Desmond, weakly looking around the ancient room. "Where is here?"

     "This is an abandoned temple, one of which I'm sure was used to train monks," Sensei explained. "It is the only sanctuary from the Black Dragon's constant patrols. They consider the temple taboo and think that it is haunted, so the soldiers avoid this place at all costs. They also think that I'm dead."

     "That's convenient," Desmond muttered. "So, I can't just leave for safety?"

     "Not if you want to get shot down by one of their helicopters," Sensei said, giving Desmond more water. "They're very territorial and do not wish anybody to know where their base of operations is. They even monitor the airwaves for unauthorized radio signals."

     "What about the facility?" asked Desmond. "What's the story with that?"

     "That facility is one of many and currently is their main base," said Sensei. "It's also where he resides."

     Desmond blinked as he shifted his position on his bed, "Who's he?"

     "He has many names," said Sensei. "We called him our master, but he was also known as Shi no hakobi-te."

     "What does that mean?" asked Desmond, stifling a cough.

     "The Bringer of Death," Sensei answered. "He is the leader of the Black Dragon."

     "Olivia called him the Shadow..." Desmond whispered, but trailed off.

     "That name is true," Sensei added while he inspected Desmond's bandages. "He truly is the Shadow."

     "Olivia lied to me..." Desmond whispered, squeezing his eyes shut. "She deceived me..."

     Sensei shook his head and fixed Desmond's bandages, "She only did what she had to do to protect herself."

     Desmond grunted in pain and Sensei left his side to retrieve a bowl of something crushed.

     "Here," he said, tilting the mixture towards Desmond's lips, "this will help with the pain."

     "Tell me, why did they hurt me?" asked Desmond when the pain subsided. "Why did they put me through all of the pain?"

     Sensei shifted, "The...Shadow always had an interest in enhancing his men. Project Bellator was meant to do just that."

     "Enhance?" Desmond asked. "But Olivia looks the same. I'm the only one who has had any physical changes."

     "In theory, the serum would have a different effect on every person," Sensei explained. "Fortunately, they were never able to perfect it. That is, until they had a successful experiment."

     "That would be me and...her," Desmond responded.

     Sensei nodded, "You two are the first to survive the Shadow's experiments. As a result, you now have enhanced abilities."

     "I have my strength," said Desmond, looking down at his body. "So, what does Olivia have?"

     "I believe that the 'colors' Olivia sees are actually people's auras," Sensei explained. "She may also be able to transfer that ability to others upon physical contact."

     Desmond wiped sweat from his brow, "So is that how I was able to see things when she grabbed me? The eruption of colors, and how my vision was...shrouded in darkness..."

     Sensei hesitantly nodded, "You saw all of our auras, including mine."

     "The whiteness," Desmond remembered, "and the purity. That's why she trusted you..."

     "And it's also why you should trust me," answered Sensei.

     There was a brief moment of silence while Sensei finished up Desmond's bandages.

     "Is my aura black?" asked Desmond.

     "Is that what you saw when she grabbed you?" Sensei asked.

     Desmond nodded, "It was like...midnight."

     "Midnight..." Sensei repeated, looking at Desmond. "Midnight is who you are; it is the color of your aura."

     "Huh?" asked Desmond.

     "That is your true self, your very essence is your aura," Sensei explained.

     "Does that mean that I'm not a good person?" Desmond asked. "Black is always associated with evil."

     "In time," Sensei explained, "you will understand its true meaning."

     "Sensei," Desmond whispered, fatigue gripping him. "Did you choose the name?"

     "It is important to call ourselves by who we are," explained Sensei, "not by a meaningless word. A title is much deeper...it is a promise. I chose that name as a promise."

     "A promise?" Desmond asked.

     "A promise gives you meaning," continued Sensei. "Meaning gives you purpose. When I chose the name 'Sensei', it was a promise to teach; to pass on knowledge to the next generation."

     "You're a teacher..." replied Desmond.

     Sensei nodded, "And, if you are willing, I can teach you."

     Desmond raised his eyebrows, "Me? No one can teach me...I'm lost..."

     "I have trained many," replied Sensei. "I can train you to hone your abilities and to control your fear in ways you never even imagined. By my side, you will become a valiant warrior."

     "You could do that?" asked Desmond. "You could help me...conquer my fear?" There was a glint of hope inside of him; for the first time in years that he could actually heal. The idea seemed tantalizing, and he clung to the ideal as if his life depended on it.

     "Mr. Pierce, you can....and you will," replied Sensei. "To conquer your fear and face the Black Dragon would not only give closure to yourself, it would give closure to every life they have ever touched."

     Was it even possible for Desmond to change? Was it possible that he could ever forget the fear, the anxiety, and the loss he had endured since the event 20 years prior? Perhaps, like Sensei had said, he could. Only time would tell.

     Desmond blinked, beginning to drift off to sleep. Everything seemed so weird and sudden, but at the same time he was able to accept it. He was so tired that the entire conversation had felt like an odd dream.

**

In the Evening...

     Later that night Desmond was laying on the edge of the stone slab that was his bed and stared out into the darkness. Desmond was dressed in new clothes that finally kept him warm in the cold environment. He thought about Sensei and his words.

     Desmond closed his eyes against the darkness and thought about his past. He thought about how the deaths of his parents had left a gaping hole inside of him. Desmond had tried to fill up the hole with money and women but, time after time, he found that he never could. The hole needed to be filled with something else more meaningful.

     "It is important to call ourselves by who we are," explained Sensei, "not by a meaningless word. A title is much deeper...it is a promise. I chose that name as a promise." 

"A promise?" Desmond asked.

     "A promise gives you meaning," continued Sensei. "Meaning gives you purpose. When I chose the name 'Sensei', it was a promise to teach; to pass on knowledge to the next generation." 

     His whole life had been spent trying to run away from his past, and never once did he think that if he turned around and faced it he could actually cope with it. Part of Desmond was still the ten-year-old that nearly died that day, and every day he spent in fear as he remembered the traumatic events. Desmond rolled onto his back and remembered what his dad had said to him moments before he died:

     "There are going to be times...that you are going to be so very afraid. There are going to be times when you are just going to want to throw it all away. But Desmond...my son...you must go on."

     He again thought about what Sensei had said:

     "A promise gives you meaning," continued Sensei. "Meaning gives you purpose...

     Perhaps that was all Desmond had ever needed: a purpose. He needed a reason to move forward and a reason to carry on his father's legacy. Part of him had never left the building where his parents had died. Part of him had always been the scared little boy.

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

     Desmond squeezed his eyes shut at the memory as he trembled. He tried to fight back tears while he slowly drifted off to sleep.

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

      There was a knock at the wooden door and it slowly creaked open. A figure walked in with a lantern, and they stood there for a moment before retreating back through the door. The whole time Desmond had kept his eyes shut to give the allusion that he had been sleeping. But, he still knew who the perpetrator was despite his eyes being closed.

      It had been Olivia...