The Thames at night. In some eyes it can be dull compared to London's other sights, yet to some it was considered the centrepiece for beauty. The latter was always Will's opinion.
William "Will" Mayweather. An ex-detective turned common businessman in search of a low-key life. At least, that's what he aimed for.
Over a year ago, one of his cases turned sour. It left him with a deep wound on his back from two types of "stabbed in the back." Someone he trusted turned on him and it left him with a huge scar down his back. Something he always thought about and something which always drives him forwards rather than backwards.
It was late into the night and Will was walking home along the bank of the Thames. He had a warm navy woollen coat with a thick scarf to keep him warm. Underneath was just a white button up shirt and navy business pants with matching shoes. He certainly didn't feel the full force of the nights cold air. However, hearing the sound of the water calmed his nerves especially after a long day's work. It was just what he needed.
There was a saying amongst those he served alongside when he was an officer which he always remembered. "The water always remembers."
This saying came from his first ever homicide case. A young girl drowned in the town's river. The case was thankfully solved, but her absence in the town left a void in many people who still resided there. A local who was obsessed with the mystical properties of water told him that very saying before he left and it'd been stuck with him ever since. Unable to stop himself, he spread those words of wisdom to anyone who would listen. To this day, he still doesn't know why.
With roughly five minutes left to walk, he stuck his hands into his pockets to avoid the winds chill. Since he started walking, the air had only gotten colder the further he travelled. On the upside, he had loose change in his pocket to jingle.
Noise and awareness were other comforts of his. It was also one of his everyday routines, especially at night when he walked home from work. He would jingle the change in his pocket, listen to the water and think about the memory of water. Even on his days off, he'd go out for a meal or for a stroll so he could do that very routine. Nothing changed and he loved it. Tonight however, things didn't go to according to plan at all.
As Will walked, he felt an unusual breeze on the side facing the river. He stopped and looked across. Nothing but still water and an empty sidewalk on the other side, that was until he looked up.
Will could only stand bewildered as he watched a figure fall from high in the sky and plummet into the water like a heavy boulder. It all happened so fast. He barely had a chance to blink.
As the water started to calm, he shook his head and snapped out of his trance. He sprinted towards the river with all the power he had, his change jingling in his pocket. He jumped down a set of steps leading to a small, empty jetty and ran to the water's edge. In a haste, he threw away his coat and scarf and proceeded to dive into the freezing water.
After all that time believing in his words of water remembering, he suddenly felt his fear rising as he swam deeper into the murky river. He could barely see the figures silhouette as it helplessly sank further and further down. As he fought to catch up, his mind drifted. Will the water remember me? Will it remember this here and now? Better still, is it going to steal this person sinking forever?
He reached his weakening arms outward and scrambled to grab onto the sinking person. He latched onto their coat and pulled them towards him. He could now see them better. It was a woman. A woman who looked peaceful as if she was sleeping. He knew that this wasn't a good sign. It was merely a beautiful picture for a form of death.
He wrapped his right arm around her chest and squeezed tight as he used his left to aid in their ascent to the surface. His feet started to ache from kicking and the muscles in his arm grew tired but he soldiered on, only looking up at the surface. His clothes weighed him down like an anchor and his face cringed and struggled as he was desperate for air. He watched as the large blobs of light took shape into small dots which became stars with the full moon amongst them.
In a flash, he burst through the water. As he gasped heavy for breath, he slowly began swimming back to land with the woman. She felt so limp and lifeless in his arm but thankfully he could feel her frozen breath on his arm. She was still alive. Somehow. It just didn't seem possible. How could she have even fallen from that height?
With the rest of his strength, he pushed the woman up and out of the water, rolling her carefully onto the dock. After waiting for some of his strength to return, he hoisted himself onto the jetty and turned his attention immediately to her again. She was surprisingly young and beautiful to look at. Not the kind of person he expected to be saving at all.
Wavy blood-red hair the length of her back. Pale but fragile looking skin. Not very tall, but for some reason barefooted. A long black leather coat wrapped around her body. From the knee down, he noticed that she was wearing bell-bottom, black pants.
By the time he crawled his exhausted body over to hers properly, he felt her chilled breath disappear and cease completely. Will scrambled to find her arm and checked for a pulse. Nothing.
Immediately, his training kicked in. He began CPR compressions. He whispered his counting as he tried to resurrect the woman, making sure he wasn't putting too much pressure on her. His hands shook and he tried to ignore how cold he'd become.
He leant her head back and was about to do mouth-to-mouth when a large sum of water launched into his face.
As Will spluttered and wiped his face whilst she'd begun coughing and spluttering heavily. Her breathing was uneven and sounded painful. She rolled onto her side as she gasped desperately for air.
'Why... Just, why?' she muttered slowly as she relaxed herself back down into a laying position, still on her side.
In partial panic, Will frisked his trench coat and pulled out his mobile phone. He started dialling the emergency number. Noticing his every move since coming too, the woman reached out with all of her remaining strength, grabbed the phone and threw it into the river. Lost forever.
Will didn't move. He looked at the section of the river where the phone landed in awe, his hand still in the same shape it was when the phone was there. The woman meanwhile sighed in relief and laid down again.
Eventually, Will's concentration on the river broke. He turned to the woman and she noticed the irritation emanating from his eyes. This is going to be an interesting first contact, she thought.
'You need an ambulance' he slowly spoke, almost emotionless. The shock clearly still had a hold of him. The woman on the other hand, not so much. Her eyes watched him continuously, observing every piece of him. His face, his clothes, his mannerisms. His attitude.
'Trust me, I don't need any ambulance. Oh, right. I'm the Huntress by the way. Nice to meet you.'
Even with her reassured expression focused directly at him and her voice being calm, Will still couldn't believe anything which was happening before him.
'You fell from high in the sky. You should be dead' he muttered as his hand finally moved and pointed at her instead.
The Huntress sighed and pushed herself into a sitting position. With every move she made, every joint burned and every muscle retaliated. Her body was trying so hard to stop her, but she wouldn't have it. In her mind, it was as good as dead anyway. Might as well make the most of the time it had left.
'Don't worry, I can explain everything. At least, I think I can. However, my home has sort of, gotten lost. Do you live nearby by any chance, um, what was your name?'
This did it. This finally snapped Will back to reality. Things started feeling real once more.
'Will. Er, Will Mayweather. I have an apartment just a few minutes away. But why would that matter?'
Huntress nodded in acknowledgement as she listened. This man may have saved her body's life for a while longer, but he was definitely not the sharpest tool in the box, at the moment anyway. If this was one of the best that the human race had to offer, she knew that she'd be slightly disappointed as well as intrigued.
'Good. That's good. Excellent even. Help me up?'
Without hesitation, Will shuffled over and placed his left arm around the Huntress and slowly began to pull her onto her feet. She struggled to help him as her legs felt like dead weight. They wouldn't even shake. They were useless.
'Stop! Stop there. These legs are dead. Useless. So damn unreliable once again.'
Will watched her as she rambled. He didn't look shocked, surprised or even confused. His face was just a blank slate, almost like what was happening didn't matter, or as if something else did.
'What's your actual name? "The Huntress" isn't a name? And what do you mean by
"Unreliable again?" Who the hell−?'
'−Look here. My name is the Huntress, end of story. My legs are unreliable again like I said and I'll explain that story later if you even decide to help me further. As for "who the hell", I think I need to go somewhere warmer first...'
As she finishes her sentence with a slur, she grows too dizzy and goes limp in Will's arms. Her struggle for consciousness was now a losing battle. Too much of her energy was being expelled on a pointless argument. She was beginning to freeze with the sounds of her two hearts being the only sound she could hear. Her hearts beating and her mind fading.
'Alright. Alright. Warmer place, got it' Will repeats, thinking intensely whilst trying not to shiver at his own hypothermia setting in.
Will hastily put his coat and scarf back on and picked the Huntress up into his arms and started carrying her up the jetty steps and onto the sidewalk. He could hear water rippling sharply behind him. He slowed his pace and started fighting the urge to turn around. He felt something watching him. A pair of eyes piercing him. His back wound started prickling and the nerves tingled throughout his entire body. The Huntress' body started feeling heavier and heavier in his arms. But was that her growing weak, or his own body fading in strength?
From the surface of the water in the centre of the Thames, a smooth dome sat idle. Just noticeable if you looked hard enough. It is dark and murky like the water and a pair of glowing aqua eyes could be seen just above the waterline.
'The water remembers' Will mumbled as he started to turn his eyes around whilst his head and body remained stationary. 'What are you remembering?'
His right foot starts to shuffle around. His left begins to turn on its heel in response. Will moves his head gently around while keeping his torso still. The ache in his arms from holding the Huntress was now unnoticeable. His curiosity was pulling him and he was powerless to stop it.
As he began to look out of the corner of his eye and turn closer and closer to the Thames, he suddenly jumps in fright as something grabs him by the coat collar.
The Huntress had awoken with a start. She never hesitated in grabbing his collar and pulling his face close to hers, directing his attention completely. Her hands were beyond trembling and her breath was extremely rapid. Will's curiosity of the Thames dispersed and he was looking at the Huntress dead in the eye. Her piercing determined eyes. Though her eyes were an opal blue, they still looked strong. Incredible.
'Don't look. Never look back at the Thames. Evil...'
Will goes to speak and the Huntress stops him by holding a finger to his mouth. 'Shhh. I'm dying remember. Never turn around again. Turn and you die. Turn and...'
The Huntress loses consciousness again. Her arm falls from Will's face and lands in her lap. Her head falls backwards and her body grows limp and heavy once again. Motionless.
The panic resets in Will. He starts to develop a cold sweat. His grip on the Huntress tightens. He can still feel the presence behind him.
With no other action capable of easing his shattered thoughts, Will breaks into a sprint. With all the bottled energy within him and the want to get far away from that damned river, he sprints away with the Huntress tightly clutched in his arms, leaving no hesitation or regrets. His fear elevates as he clutches the Huntress' body closer and feels her heartbeat. Both hearts beating. More and more questions formed but were overshadowed by his want to run away.
On the Thames surface, the dome starts to bubble and lower. A slight groan can be heard as the mysterious entity descends to the bottom of the river.
* * *
The Naval Scientific Research Centre, London. Newly built and assembled next to the Thames outside the city with many different operations already underway inside. One of its more focused projects was currently operating late into night inside one of the main laboratories.
One woman remained in the department, slaving away at her microscope at her workbench. Many various sized petri dishes containing samples of water and organic materials covered the nearby benches. Statistics and diagram papers scattered her desk in the next room. She'd been working non-stop.
She was fully engrossed in her work when she heard approaching footsteps on the polished vinyl floor. Military boots. Better yet, the boots of a naval officer. Her anticipation rose instantaneously.
She lifted her head slightly from her microscope to watch Vice Admiral Ironwood enter her lab. She couldn't help but roll her eyes at his presence. He was never an easy man to get along with and never made any attempt to get along with anyone anyway. Not a single soul in the building or even the navy liked him. She had to however own up to the fact that he was an efficient man.
'Any progress, Doctor Weller?' he demanded as soon as he'd passed through the doorway. Weller sighed and turned to the papers on her left. Her endless reports, not even near complete yet.
'Unfortunately, not much at all. None of these samples match the parameters you gave me. Which reminds me, Admiral. What are these "parameters" you're so insistent on? What kind of person would need a genetic sequence as complex and non-existent as this?'
The admiral glared at Weller intensely. His black eyepatch may have covered one eye, but the other was fuelled with darkness and lacked forgiveness. His black and grey beard curled as well as his bushy eyebrows. Weller always thought he had a pirate-like vibe to him and he could be just as cruel and reckless as one too.
This time, she knew that she'd asked too much. Her determination to know the truth was getting too frequent and stepped on the admiral's nerves constantly. It didn't matter that she'd had over ten years of solid experience or that she was the best in her field spanning all of London. All Ironwood cared about were results. No more, no less.
'Find the right samples. You don't need to know any more than that. You have your orders, Weller' he bitterly snapped back with his fists clenching at his sides.
With his position made clear and his mean streak showing at full strength, the admiral left the lab. Much to Weller's relief, he had nothing else to say to her. Luckily, this meant her employment wasn't terminated, for now anyway.
She was proud of her work, even if she had no idea whatsoever about it was all for. She not only has an ongoing appreciation for scientific research, but a higher love for the sea. She used to be a navy officer herself until she retired and turned to her other passion. The navy kept her on as an employee and aided her in her pursuits of scientific research without hesitation.
She had just turned her attention back to her microscope and was happily going to continue working her overtime when the labs phone rang.
Huffing in annoyance, she hurried over to the phone on the wall and picked it up.
'Yes?' she bluntly answered. Her expression turned from frustrated to intrigue as the strange voice spoke over the phone.
'A warehouse? Well sure, but who are...'
The phone line cuts out. She shrugged and placed the phone back on the hook. She looked over at her desk, then at the doorway leading into the dark and the empty corridor beyond it.
'Stay here? Warehouse? Oh hell.'
Weller grabs her coat off the rack and her handbag whilst rushing out of the lab. Day after the day she did the same old thing. Examining samples. She heavily believed that her research was worth the tedious testing, but it does get repetitive and deep down, she longed for something different. Adventure, a thrill, something! Her adrenaline and curiosity flourished as she dashed away, leaving everything switched on and left unorganised.
Left behind inside one of the petri dishes on the bench, the small water sample inside started to move and squirm. It slid upwards to the lid of the dish and oozed itself out. The droplet-sized sample rolled itself off of the bench with a squelch and slithered into Weller's office. It struggled to slide up the side of her desk and into the power socket of her still open laptop. Once it entered the device, the whole laptop began to short-circuit and spark violently. In moments, the screen starts bringing up a multitude of confidential files scaling from basic staff summaries to top secret weaponry projects and schematics. Whatever this droplet was, it was the perfect hacker.