The Switch

Luke- The Job

In order to survive in this world, you need a job. At least, most humans do. I won’t say that that concept doesn’t apply to non-humans, like Kenny and I.

Kenny’s job is to lead. Mine, is to control. Not quiet the same as human jobs, but a job is a job.

The clock struck one that Saturday night and it was time for the meeting.

I grabbed hold of ‘Vorare’, my gun, and ‘Flectare’, my jacket.

Vorare stands for devour or ‘to consume’, and Flectere means ‘to bend’ or something that reflects. I grabbed my holster and fixed it on my belt. Sorry, but it doesn’t have a fancy name.

I exited the dorm. using the staircase instead of the elevator, and carefully, made way to the orchid garden behind the boy’s dorms.

The old fart was standing right there.

“Chrysler, its Luke” I called out, to inform him that I had, despite the odds, arrived at the meeting.

“And?” his voice echoed from the shadows, asking me to complete what I was saying.

“Do I have to say that?”

“Yes.”

“We are The Committee, the managers and eliminators of the Sirens.”

“It really is you Luke?”

“Chairman. Just because you haven’t seen me for a week or two, doesn’t mean that this isn’t me. I attended this meeting, just as you requested. I have in my possession Vorare and Flectere.”

The chairman sighed.

“That's great!”

I heard foot-steps charging towards me. Uh-oh. Warning, the utterly disgraceful fatherly hug was about to go into commission. I ducked just in time.

“You won’t give your father a hug?” the chairman said, in his usual tone.

“You raised me, and I might be your heir, but you’re not my father. I’m not your son! Where’s everyone else?” I asked, annoyed.

“Everyone else” said an elderly feminine voice “Is already present” and with that word, the Orchid lit up with torches on every tree.

“Thank you, for the lighting arrangements, Ralph” The chairman thanked his colleague.

I was standing on the edge of a clearing, where a long mahogany table had been laid out, with elegant chairs on either side. The most magnificent of which, was indeed, the chairman’s. He had the biggest, most throne-like one, because he was after all, the head of The Committee.

There were, in all, six members in The Committee.

Ralph— an old man, with dark brown eyes and white hair. No one really was sure of his age. Some say he’s as old as fire. He arranges the locations for our meetings and is responsible for our secrecy.

Miranda--The old woman in her eighties who had just declared everyone’s presence. She is responsible for the human population.

Not in that sense.

She records the number of murders that have been committed by the Sirens, the number of Sirens in the world and their quantitative ratio with humans. She keeps a tab on the population, to ensure that the ratio isn't in favor of any race. Should the humans discover the secrets, and just in case, if a war broke out, The Committee needed to know exactly what they were up against, and then decide who's side they'd be on.