《The Path to Hell》 Chapter 1: Pilot An old man stood alone on a balcony, staring at the dark, heavy sky. A flock of birds flew past in their usual patterns, moving southwards. He puffed out a cloud of smoke off of his mouth, his eyes were somber in deep pleasure-filled pink. Lowering his gaze away from the sky and back into the horizon, where a great and large emerald green plain stretched as far as he could see, and to his left were numerous settlements, many of which had rising smoke plumes rising from the earth. The man felt a somber feeling beating silently in his heart when he saw the plumes. Many memories flashed through his eyes which were grim and fiery. But it was all in the past now, and he¡¯d already accepted the fact that they would never return. ¡°Competition¡­ war¡­ hmph, very much the state of these damn fools¡­¡± His cranky old voice lamented, ¡°And it seems that my boys are doing much the same, I guess it must only be part of nature. That we are aggressive by heart¡­¡± C-creak! The man quickly turned his head back towards the entrance of the room. A maid, whose eyes and body looked exhausted and tainted, came inside. She came along with a cart, filled with things for cleaning items, and a bunch of new sheets. Going along with her own business, and started unfolding the sheets. ¡°Excuse me, las¡ª¡± The maid gasped. ¡°O-oh¡­ I am so, so sorry.¡± She stuttered. ¡°I didn¡¯t know that there was someone inside. There was no sign when I checked, so I assumed there was no one¡­ there.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t you know it¡¯s rude to enter someone¡¯s room without permission? I remember there being a ''do not disturb'' sign put on the door handle.¡± ¡°R-right, I apologize si¡ª¡± ¡°It¡¯s alright, sweetheart.¡± He replied, coughing a bit. ¡°No need to apologize and weep there, I¡¯m just admiring the view from this balcony. It¡¯s something some old man like me would like to enjoy, like your¡­ never mind.¡± The maid, her face clearly confused, nodded in a look, confused approval. The old man glanced away from her and back to the sky. But now, instead of the bird patterns he saw earlier, a formation of zeppelins now patrolled the skies and loomed over the inn with a dark shadow. The old man scowled at the zeppelins, feeling sour, and quickly turned his gaze away from the sky. He pulled out a curious-looking watch, made out of a shiny silver and looked at the hands of the clock. ¡°Say, lass.¡± The old man said. ¡°Would you mind taking care of the room a bit more, I must leave for the Mausoleum now.¡± He began slowly walking away from the balcony and back into his room. ¡°Eh? The Mausoleum?¡± The maid gasped. ¡°What would someone like you be doing over there? Every time I pass by there, weird men and women come in some shady outfits.¡± This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. ¡°That¡¯s a secret, lass. Now then, fare thee well, and don¡¯t forget to feed Orson and Pliny, their food should be near the bed. Tata~¡± ¡°W-what? Who th¡ª¡± Before she could even get an answer, the old man had scurried off, nowhere to be seen in the hallways. Oh, how she wondered why that man was so skitty. Men were so¡­ strange. But who''s Orson and Pliny, she¡¯d think. A bunch cackling and cawing then began to surface, and strangely it came from where the old man stood. The balcony. ¡­ Meanwhile, in an undisclosed location, men and women stood around in intricate circle patterns. A terrible smell was circulating around the room, and already some had collapsed or left the room in a haste. Not to mention the poor air circulation, which was like a day in the Precipa. They were chanting some weird things in an unknown language, constantly with any mistake. Their hands were raised up high in the air, towards the middle of the room. There was a mass of crystals, which look like emeralds. ¡°Must I keep going, Amy?¡± A robed figure shouted, ¡°This whole kerfuffle is just a waste of my damn time. Are you sure Mr. Faraday is right on his head because I know he¡¯s just an old man with a tweed fucking mind! Those damn royals are watching us as if we¡¯re just lowly livestock!¡± ¡°Wellers!¡± Amy snapped. ¡°Keep the banter down to a minimum volume, do you want to be lynched? They¡¯ve got eyes and ears everywhere, so keep your voice down¡­ It¡¯s a pretty hectic environment over here, and it would¡¯ve been solved if the Redlin¡ª.¡± ¡°Amy!¡± Wellers snapped back, ¡°For fuck sakes, don¡¯t bring THEM into the conversation. You know what they¡¯ve been doing, they¡¯re¡­ damn it, just forget about it.¡± Amy grinned maliciously at Wellers. "I know what you wanted to spit out, but I''m going to ignore that. Just go one your day before the royals get here, they might as well already be here so let¡¯s just move on¡­ shall we?¡± ... A young man, who wore a dull khaki overcoat with two pockets, bolted across the halls. He held his rifle tightly on his left hand and on his right, held a paper document. He was quite the runner, never losing his breath until the moment he will have stopped by the offices of his superiors. He ran through the hallway of the second floor, eerily silent but strangely... quite cozy. The young man turned his head towards a window that was nearby. He saw a large, ''cozy'', mahogany coffin resting in peace. But unlike that coffin, he was riddled in a sense of chaotic urgency. He glanced away from the window and kept on running. ¡®Office one.. Office two¡­ office three¡­¡¯ He counted. ¡®Where is his office¡­ A-ah there it is. Office 6.¡¯ Stopping at the, he first fixed himself nice and snap, dusting off some flakes off of his shoulder and wiped some of the sweat that was on his oily, olive skin. He stepped towards the door, and striked it three gentle times. A big, burly man with the face of a walrus opened the big door. He was a bit confused as to why this¡­ young man was here, sweaty and anxious. The young man raised his gaze to meet eye contact. ¡°S-sir Huggins, good to see you. I¡¯ve got the most important message from Cappena!¡± ¡°Most important?¡± Huggins asked, dumbfounded. ¡°If it were the most important kind of message, then it would¡¯ve been given to my Code transcriptor. Although, I haven¡¯t got a single message from anyone lately.¡± ¡°S-sir, that¡¯s the thing. The code¡¯s been cut by the enemy forces, however they¡¯ve managed to save some of the transcripts in document form. Here¡¯s the document, sire.¡± The burly man then snatched the document and grumbled. He squinted a bit forwards to see the small text, and scratched his head. Suddenly... his face began looking a bit more sweaty. He placed the document back into his desk, and quickly wiped his face with a black handkerchief. "Tell the guards to be ready to protect the family at all times, lad. Go on!" He ordered sternly. Chapter 2: Return ..."Beginning program in 3...2...1... let''s go." "Rise and shine, you industrious little fellows!" A jaunty voice jeered in static. "Once again your boy, Liam Holtz, in his prime time. And I was only joking, fellas¡­ snowflakes! I¡¯m not someone who would disrespect you guys, right? Movin¡ª" "H-hey! Don''t forget about me! Me! Me! Me!" Another voice interrupted, this time it was an annoying screech with feminine qualities. "Lorraine Glynn! Don¡¯t you dare forget about me! That was uncalled for, Holtz...." "Ahem... Thank you. We are once again back in the air, currently 6:30 in the morning and very much alive, thank you very much, you ski mask freaks. Any who, we have some very important things to share with this Monday, and will be presented by Lorraine. Lorraine?" "Y-yes, yes... Moving on with the program...¡± A young man who was a bit annoyed by the radio broadcasters, yawned very loudly, before rolling around on his seat. He shuffled his long light brown hair a bit, but avoided touching his white, cotton uniform and tie. He wasn¡¯t particularly enjoying his time, at the moment, stuck inside a white pick-up truck, with the air conditioning fixed to full blast. He quickly glanced towards the driver''s seat, where a middle-aged man who wore a red cap and shaggy blond hair sat. The young man took a whiff, and smelled a familiar smokey smell. His clothes had a bunch of dark marks placed on the edges. The young man¡¯s father turned his head towards his son¡¯s eyes, which were slightly tense but tender. ¡°Do you have something to say, Matt? I can tell from your eyes.¡± His father said. ¡°...Not at the moment, really.¡± Matt replied. ¡°It¡¯s just that we always go through the avenue on weekdays. There¡¯s nothing to do in this truck, || not to mention all the annoying drivers on the road.¡± ¡°So you¡¯re bored.¡± He said with a slight crack to his voice. ¡°But to be honest, I like going this route. I think I¡¯ve told you this, like about a thousand times already. But really, it¡¯s just a habit, don¡¯t really mind the traffic anyways.¡± Matt paused nodding his head, before fixing his posture on the recliner. He looked towards his left, seeing the azure and orange horizon afar, and an escort following two container ships. He sighed once more, and continued listening to the broadcast. ¡°Oh, oh, oh, before I forget,¡± said Lorraine, sleek and urgent. ¡°Brine Fishing Day is still on, but instead of that Tuesday date, we¡¯ve postponed it to Wednesday. ...Liam, can you quit making that goofy face? S-s-stop, I can¡¯t keep a straight f-face!¡± ¡°Hahaha¡­ wait oh, right. We¡¯re¡­ um live. Dave, can you¡­ What? You can¡¯t? Hahaha¡­ well that¡¯s on me! Sorry about that folks!¡± ¡®Lovers¡­¡¯ Matt thought. ¡®It¡¯s so obvious that they are lovers!¡¯ ¡°Pffft¡­ Holtz and Glynn, at it again.¡± Matt¡¯s father remarked. ¡°They¡¯re really benefiting from being friends, alright! Hey, what¡¯s the long face?¡± He pushed Matt back and forth gently, wondering if he¡¯d respond. ¡°Stop it, it¡¯s not funny.¡± His father then stopped, and continued to keep his silence and stare forwards. ¡°Well, mister¡­ that was quite a response from you, Matt. Haven¡¯t seen that tone ever since you told me about your blonde friend from school.¡± ¡®...Twintails, huh?¡¯ Matt thought. ¡°By the way¡­¡± his father said slowly. ¡°Your mother told me¡­ um¡­ that your sister¡¯s participating this season. She said that Lillie really wanted to try this sort of thing out, a hobby I guess. Wow¡­ just like me and my dad in our prime.¡± ¡°Yeah, yeah¡­ Just like a younger you. Blond and popular, all of that shit.¡± ¡­ Groak! ¡°...¡± ¡°You know I have some food and drinks in the glove box behind us. They¡¯re a collection I¡¯ve made, which I¡¯ve built up every time I make a stop at a rest station. Take one if you want.¡± A quiet grin lightly lit up on his face, although he still felt a bored sensation inside. He bent over and peeked through the glove box. Inside it was a stash of candy bars, small bags of chips, some food packs¡­ Basically, food. There were some things that were brands he did not know of, and some that he did know ¡®bout. ¡°Careful though, you¡¯d best not want to make a mess on my truck.¡± His father reminded. ¡°So, don¡¯t eat the chips.¡± ¡®What a let down¡­¡¯ So, Matt decided to take on a plastic wrapped bar with grey edges, which looked like it had nougat, caramel, and assorted nuts, intertwined in a delicate balance of taste. ¡®Should I?¡¯ Matt pondered. He shook his head, and decided to place his candy bar back into the pocket on his uniform. He peered through the tinted windshield in front of him, and the traffic jam had barely even moved an inch forwards. Serious noise pollution was commonplace around most of the city. Esther Avenue was one exception, as it was adjacent to a famous landmark around the city: An old, white marble theater that was made around 20 years ago. Although, it wasn¡¯t a brilliant of a white when it was opened, it is renowned in the region for a playground by numerous socialites and millionaires as a place of social activity. And the double-edged sword was that it was near the beach, and in the summer season that was not something to look forward to in Esther Avenue. No one was going to go anywhere today. Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. ¡°Alright, we¡¯re ok now.¡± Liam jeered, ¡°Dave, can you.. Thanks, mate. Anyways, half of Brine Fishing Day¡¯s profits will be donated graciously towards charitable needs. Plus, certain famous celebrities will attend this year¡¯s event, maybe even the president. And... that¡¯s it for Brine Fishing Day, now comes¡­ dadada¡­ The boring stuff, like weather!¡± ¡°I¡¯ll handle this one, Holtz.¡± Lorraine continued. ¡°Reports have suggested a clear balmy and sunny sky with a chance of some rain on Monday. We¡­ um also have some warnings about another¡­ gravity storm, so hang tight to whatever you¡¯re holding right now. Predictions are that it will happen during this week, so just hope it¡¯s not today¡­ We also have¡­¡± To spend the time, as he had always done when he was a kid, he would watch the view of the sea from his fixed perspective. Even if cars that would block the view like an asshole, he would still find a way to watch the azure blue sea. ¡­Mostly. The radio was something he¡¯d also love to listen to. ¡°One more thing before we leave the air,¡± Liam jeered. ¡°We can¡¯t just end it without a high note. Lorraine, will you do the honors of placing the track?¡± ¡°Will do, Holtz. And I know the perfect track to use, so sit tight people stuck in a jam. Here¡¯s a jam for you to go ham on. That¡¯s it from us in Radio Stykke! Peace! See you in the primetime broadcast!¡± And the radio finally went silent. And in a few short seconds the sound of vinyl scratching could be heard, but no song came out from the radio, not yet at least. ¡®Damn. I remember this song.¡¯ Matt rocked his head in motion, and began humming a muffled tune. "Rowan, you know where to drop me off, right. My dorm on 9 Nightshade?" ¡°Yeah, yeah I know that, near your school. And reminder, try to wear the face mask, you might catch the flu.¡± VROOM! ¡­ Welcome to the jungle, we got fun and games. Or so they said, around these parts. It was here numerous electronic billboards continued to boast around , and the bustling noise of the multiple cars on the road played. Whereas some of the concrete trees were over a kilometer tall and it was an eyesore for people. Below were some mid-sized buildings, made of bricks and wood. Many were in good condition, while others were demolished lots or rotting buildings waiting to be demolished. Matt leant against the green railings of the fire escape stairs, feeling a bit tired than usual. He turned his eyes down towards the sidewalks, observing the nearby pedestrians busy with their day. He inhaled deeply, and then exhaled deeply. ¡®I thought I told him when I get back, he¡¯d leave my ID at my desk. Honestly, what does he even think he¡¯s doing? Don¡¯t tell me he gave it to her again...¡¯ He sighed, and glanced towards his watch. It was a cheap-looking watch, although it was quite accurate in telling time. Its outer ring was a bluish-patina mix, a mistake that ended up becoming cool. A gift, from around three years ago. 7:10 ¡°Hmm... I gotta go.¡± Matt trembled a bit looking down towards the sidewalk, shaking his hand. Drops of cool sweat were forming on his palms, although he wiped it off quite quickly. He clenched the railings tightly, picking up his backpack from the metal floor and rushed down towards the sidewalk. Without missing a beat, he quickly slid through all the pedestrians, moving through three blocks. Sometimes, he even startled nearby pigeons and doves that were feeding nearby. ¡°Dag nabbit, you fucking whippersnapper!¡± A nearby old lady shouted. ¡°Sorry, ma¡¯am!¡± Matt shouted back, sending a two-fingered salute with his thumb sticking out in condolence. ... ¡°Nice and quick! Get your Salamoia Season hot dog! Nice and quick!¡± A street vendor shouted. ¡°Hey! It¡¯s our number two customer, what do you want from the menu!¡± ¡°Err...I want two hot dogs, my friend. Regular. Also can you try putting more onions, just a bit, and mustard on it, I haven¡¯t eaten breakfast yet...¡± ¡°Order up! Oh, and just to let you know, I enjoy my job.¡± The vendor quickly made a thumbs-up at Matt, and began to cook the order. But while the vendor was cooking up the food, Matt struggled to pull out his wallet from his left pocket, the former was made from brown leather and had some signs of wear and tear. Inside, there were two photographs, which still smelled like it was polarized yesterday. One had two adults posing for the picture, in a suit and a gown. Another had two bickering ducks. From his wallet, he felt a cold metal surface. Two, actually. There were also some bills in there, mostly five and tens. ¡°Here¡¯s the money, my friend.¡± ¡°Hey, hey, hey! Something smells amazing in the streets! A group of people, wearing student attire came behind Matt. They were a seven-person group, headed by a skinny and frail, but modest-looking girl. They were very loud, and not to mention the ¡°Sup, you must be the number two customer, ¡®ere, yeah?¡± She said curiously. ¡°Y-yeah, at least that¡¯s what he said.¡± Matt pointed towards the vendor, who was by now done with cooking the dogs. The amazing smell that they put out... was just something to salivate at. The onions and the mustard complimented the meaty sausage very well, almost perfect, but it did not have ketchup. Matt took both hot dogs off of the hands of the vendor, and moved along the crowd. "I''m going to enjoy this..." Matt said. BONK! "Gah! What the fuck!" Matt struggled to keep himself up, his sight and head were having fun on a carousel. He slapped his skull to at least tell them to try and get off, but they didn¡¯t budge. He grumbled again, and tried helping himself, leaning his limping body forwards. He looked down towards the ground, his treasure ruined. "NOOOO! MY DOGS!" Crunching steps slowly came forwards to Matt¡¯s direction, the leader of the group had stepped forwards. She was a bit concerned looking at Matt, who was still mourning the loss of his dog. ¡°Damn, next time you better look at where you¡¯re going. You¡¯ll never know which path you take, otherwise you¡¯ll hit yourself over and over again to the metro, man!¡± She held out her hand towards Matt, still stuck at the ground. However, Matt just helped himself up. Limping a bit, before dusting off his white shirt and fixing his tie. ¡°Hmph¡­ you did not see anything, and I did not do what I did.¡± Matt replied harshly. ¡°This is just a waste of your time, and don¡¯t touch me. I¡¯d prefer if I were left alone." The girl looked back towards her group of friends, who were busy waiting for their dogs. She glanced back at Matt and pondered a bit. ¡°Woah, woah, easy with your words, bro. That¡¯s just a fall, don¡¯t need to go apeshit over that.¡± She said, clenching her fist. "How about I give you something, since you lost those hot dogs?" She handed out one of her hot dogs, which was packed in with mayonnaise and mustard with a side of cheese. ¡°...Thank you, but this is yours. I don¡¯t want to steal.¡± Matt then waved his goodbye to the girl and disappeared below the metro. ¡­ Quiet, peace, the hallways of the school were always filled to the brim with it. But, lately there has been a different word to describe the hallways. Cold. Nearby the hallways was a dimly-lit stairwell, and around that dimly-lit stairwell, Matt emerged, rubbing himself together with both his arms, and his mouth chattering. ¡®Why¡¯d they make it so cold, fuck¡­ ¡¯ He also noticed a cloud of cool air coming out of his mouth. But, Matt continued to walk, the echoes of his steps making him feel a lot more chilly in the spine. He turned his head in both directions, just to make sure there was nobody there, and stopped at a classroom, his classroom. ¡°...Brrrr.¡± He held out his cold, and freezing hand, which was hidden underneath the deep pockets in his trousers, to the door handle. A wooden sliding door. Chapter 3: Homeroom But before he even dared to step one foot into the room, the door slid right open. Right on Matt''s face, a familiar face stared at him. Her eyes were glaring at him, a hint of smut and smug was present on her eyes. Matt''s felt his heart throbbing faster, and his feet tapping. "Good morning, Porter." She smugly whispered while writing on her clipboard. "I see that you are not late, and I take it that you''ve gone and visited your mother at the hospital near¡ª Inner City. Well, a lot has happened while you were gone, and oh. Here''s your ID card, your friend kept it clean for you." The ID was spotless, but... Matt noticed something a bit weird about it. A huge white spot was over on the place where his photo would be. He turned his face and frowned at the girl. Matt raised his voice slightly and said, "Hey, Twintails... where the hell is my face. And why do you have my ID? I gave this to Otto. What the fuck Twintai¡ª" " Hey, hey, do I have to remind you that my name is Ronnie? .. Of course not, but we don''t really have much time left til homeroom. Get your ass to your seat, I''ll standby for more people like you." He noticed that she was staring at that weird smirk that hadn''t really gone away for a while. "Alright then... Twintails..." There was something about Twintails that Matt never personally liked. It''s the fact that she''d always target him for some nefarious plot she brewed in her pot of misdeeds. But it has been getting less frequent nowadays, ever since middle school, something Matt appreciates ¡ª mostly. He plopped himself down into his chair. ''Fucking hell, she ruined my ID... probably used acetone.'' Matt thought. ''I should ask Otto about this.'' Leaning forward, he peered at the person in front of him. He had white hair, modestly cut on the sideburns and wore the standard school uniform: a gray blazer, white T-shirt, silk black tie, and brown trousers. He noticed Matt''s eyes staring at him, he''''s really getting some bad vibes. "H-hello there Matt, you''re looking more stressful today." Otto stuttered, his hands were trembling a bit. "I have kept the house clean for the most part, but what do you¡ª" "Never mind that, Otto" Matt interrupted. "Why does Twintails have my ID?" "Oh that, Ronnie asked me if she could borrow it. S-says its for the new student council book. She never gave it back, and I didn''t really ask for it back. But, I see she gave it back to you." "Yeah, she gave it, but there''s a blank space where my face is. Pretty saddening." Matt said, slowly putting himself back to his seat. He bit his lips, trying to relieve some of the stress that was in him. A lingering memory flashed periodically, it was a bit of a nightmare. He shook his head, and decided to leave it behind. "Oh, and that favor you talked about..." Otto said. He looked a bit troubled when he said that, but it isn''t out of the ordinary for him to act like that. He bent down towards his backpack, ruffling his backpack looking like he was finding something. Meanwhile, Matt fumbled with his fingers and leaned backwards from his chair, precariously keeping his balance in check. ''Favor? I don''t remember asking him for something.'' Matt thought. ''Wait ¡ª oh that favor, now I remember. But is it the right time, though?'' But by then, Otto was having a file at his face. "Hey, hey, hey, don''t get lost now." Otto snapped. "And here is the f-fruit of my harvest, cultivated over the past month. Compiling a few thousand words for a report. And you said these were from some dreams you''ve had and those so-called powers you''ve been describing lately. Plus, Connor and Edwin helped in this." In an instant, the file was snatched away from Otto''s fine hands and were now in the posession of Matt''s hands. "Thanks for that... um. I''ll probably read this later." Otto nodded subtly, readjusted his glasses and turned back to his own desk. Matt, on the other hand, slumped over the table resting on his left arm. He looked at his ruined ID, and wondered if what Otto... no, Twintails said were true. He sighed and turned his attention towards a sound that had been in the background for a while. A debate had been going on next to the doorframe, sparked by the evermore exuberant Twintails against a person who''d just arrived. He couldn''t really hear them very well, drowned out by the number of people speaking at the same time. They were waving their hands, doing numbers of gestures, in an effort to convince. Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. Matt sighed played around with his pencil. His hands were trembling a bit, but not so much that it was noticeable. Until his hand accidentally dropped it, and rolled a few inches away from him. He was a bit annoyed at what had happened, but he took another deep breath,. He decided to extend his arm forwards and try the levitation thing he did before. He took a deep and composed breath, and made the pencil slowly come towards his hand. But he held a boulder on his back, which was hard to mitigate the weight of. The pencil then slowly trembled closer and closer to his hand. Matt looked towards his left and right to make sure no one was watching. Then, it came within his hand''s reach. He tried grasping for it, but then he dropped it again. A great yawn was being broadcasted through the doorframe, and the focus of attention shifted there. "What''s up..." The booming voice echoed. The debate had stopped, both parties were in the path of the last person to arrive. A stout, youthful and jovial man who was holding a black suitcase had now crashed the party. He coughed a bit, and took out a green inhaler and stared at Ronnie and the other person. "What''s going on ''ere, and what the hell are you talking about?" He said confused. "Oh, and good morning to all of you, I''ve gotten a bit sick from my asthma. Decided to come anyways, and I''ve arrived to a block party, fantastic. Now then what were you talking about with Ms. Nantes, class representative?" They both scowled at the teacher, crossing both their arms, refusing to say anything about it. But, one student stood up from his seat near the front. "Umm... Mr. Blythe, they were arguing about cak¡ª" He said before being interrupted by Twintails. "Zip it, Connor." She said. "Mhm... cake you say." Mr. Blythe said. "Oh, right. You can go back to your seats. I need to start homeroom." The two then returned to their seats, although not before sharing a gaze of aggression towards themselves. Blythe then sat down on his desk, and inhaled another breath through his inhaler. "Wooh, an argument about cake. Great first impression on today, girls. Now then, I assume everyone is present today? Even the one who went on a leave yesterday?" "Yes!" The class answered in unison. Well except for Matt, who went like this, "Yeaah..." In an almost unmotivated screech. "Good, now then for the next hour or so, you all know that we have both homeroom and biology with me. But before we do anything about that, I have some papers I need to distribute. Column leaders, please pass the papers to the people in the back. ''Tis an important document so please take care." Mr. Blythe then stood up again, opened his suitcase, which had a ton of documents inside. He then distributed the papers to the column leaders, who began giving the papers to the people. Matt''s column leader, a fat, blond guy walked calmly towards the back, whistling a simple, but cool tune. He neatly placed the papers into the center of their tables, and kept one for himself. When he got to Matt, though, he just simply slammed the paper into the center and glared menacingly. It didn''t intimidate him one bit, and glared back. The column leader simply nodded back, and walked back to his seat. "Good day, good day..." He whispered. "What a wonderful day..." ''Now then, what is so damn important about these papers.'' Matt thought. ''Let''s se¡ª'' An ominous logo was on the top of the paper, and that shuddering fear he had felt in the truck came back like a javelin. A circular outline with a triangle on the left and a trapezoid in union on the right. He''d wished that he had forgotten those memories, but apparently he never did. He quietly placed the paper aside. "If you haven''t noticed, there is a waiver down there." Mr. Blythe announced. "But let''s set it aside, in favor for an explanation for the documents." He sighed, his friendly demeanor changed into a concerned one. He coughed a bit, and again used his inhaler. "The Mesa Delta Corporation has asked of us participate in a joint field trip to their... main facility, tomorrow starting at 6 AM. Frankly, I don''t know why all of a sudden they want to this. They''ve been a facility long been some place of clandestine deals. All they said was that ''There were opportunities for everyone, the youth should know as they''re the future.''" Right after he said that, a bunch of cheers were thrown against him. Some were clapping, and some looked like they had gotten the best birthday gift they''ve had since second grade. But Matt did not look a bit too happy, but a deep blue sadness. ''A field trip there...'' Matt thought hastily. ''Don''t really like that, never want to go there ever again. And plus my sixteenth birthday is coming up after that event.'' "Reminder, class." Mr. Blythe suddenly boomed. "This is a joint field trip, and you guys know what this means. Our peers from Inner City and Rowskid are coming too." ... Most of the class then quickly shut up... An artist had burst into the room and covered most of the class in gray paint, and drew a blank expression, and as quick as whence he had come, he left immediately, only leaving a water bomb. And in an instant it exploded spontaneously, spraying away the paint. Students began to move again. "Wait... we are going with them this year?" One inquired. "Not Cariad and Trueno?" "Yes, Cariad and Trueno have declined the offer. But it''s their loss, they are missing out on a lucrative offer of education." Meanwhile, Matt had been listening thoroughly. He did not really like what was happening, but that weird smirk he gave earlier was back. ''Well at least this will make it more bearable.'' Matt thought. ''Guess Boris and the gang are probably coming, ooh the memories.'' But his thoughts were quickly sucked into the drain, because of a dissociated ringing which reverberated through the hallways, like a dying horse. Homeroom was up, and the last grain had fallen. Chapter 4.1: Triage One "Sure is nice down there." Matt sighed¡­ ¡°Them and their ball...¡± The hours went ticking by, slowly tiptoeing along their white plane of existence, and leaving everyone in the room hanging off the cliff¡­ under pressure to let go and make it end. Their hands stiffened and went sore, one clenching a piece of paper and the other writing in a very constant, and¡­ a tid bit too stressful pace. Not to mention the cold air beginning to flow inside the room, and believe me, it¡¯s colder than the poles. Matt wriggled on his desk, trying to find a comfortable position to sit in. He first tried a position of leaning himself against the window, which was comfortable for the most part. He looked down towards the ground, a bit bored. There were multiple people there, apparently playing football, the ball kind. What, did you think that we''re on the other side of the pond?! "Yo! Don''t drool on the window, Matt." Otto snapped. "H-huh, what the..." Matt then subsequently hunched back down to his desk, took a deep sigh, and came face to face towards his notebook. The least he could do is to write down everything the teacher was explaining¡­ Speaking of which¡­ ¡°Anyways, can anybody explain the meaning of competition?.. I can tell from the looks of your faces that none of you may enjoy what I¡¯m explaining. Yes? Now all I am asking is to answer my question.¡± The teacher was met with silence, that disrespectful kind of silence. Oooh, they really are the worst. Well at least there were some takers. That kid with dyed white hair and that brooding girl with the beanie. Might as well pick one of ¡®em. ¡°Hmmm¡­ You, Ms. Nantes. You look more dejected than usual. Why don¡¯t you come up here and answer my question.¡± ¡°Well, thank you.¡± Moraine noted, ¡°Err.... I kinda forgot about it. But, I do remember that it was the interaction of two parties and everybody will be hurt in the process.¡± ¡°You are kind of right with that.¡± Ms. Lynde said. ¡°But, the point is that competition is crucial in order for both species, or parties as you said, to survive. Maybe because of limited resources, or something like a mate, but either way everyone gets hurt as you said.¡± ¡°So, what you are saying is that trying to survive is a fight?¡± Connor spoke out. ¡°If that¡¯s the case¡­ then, If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. ¡°Lee! Forgot something important, I see...¡± Ms. Lynde snapped. ¡°Raise your damn hand if you want to say something¡­ Don¡¯t want to talk? Then, whisper to yourself. Pro tip from someone like you.¡± ¡°Gee thanks for the tip¡­¡± Connor replied, although a bit sour. Throughout the whole exchange, Matt went on in his constant stare of a brooding silent boredom. There was something in his eyes that really sold that look, probably the grey eyes. Most definitely. Though, he then looked down towards his notebook and stared at the writings he¡¯d made. The pencil he''d pick up using Levitation earlier, it looked cool. The handwriting though. ¡­ Legible at best. ''Very nice handwriting if I do say so myself, that hit too close to home. Just like Nifa¡¯s...'' Matt grumbled and dropped the pencil. ¡°NOW THEN!¡± Ms. Lynde shouted, waking everyone up. ¡°I heard from the higher-ups that all of you, including the other class, will be going on a field trip. And it will be at the place where I used to work at.¡± ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s right.¡± Twintails responded. ¡°Here¡¯s a bit of advice, and also please put down your pens. Hands must be super, super tender now. When you get there, don¡¯t stray away from the path the guide shows you. Mark my words on your hearts, or they¡¯ll be broken by what you see.¡± "Like the sight of you naked?" Connor smugly replied. ¡®Uh oh¡­ You shouldn¡¯t have done that Connor.¡¯ It just so happens a stock of masks were laying by, and it had just sold out. Nearly everyone in the class had put them on, save for a few souls. The masks had a very what the fuck have you done feel to it. Matt glanced his view towards Ms. Lynde. Ms. Lynde looked flushed, and probably pissed, she clenched her fists and scratched her scalp a ton. "...I''ll put it under maybe." She replied, trying her best not to harm Connor. "I¡¯ll also give you the honor of being on my hitlist, Lee. You¡¯ve pulled a straw and be happy it wasn¡¯t the last. I¡¯ve got a bone to pick with Petra and Harris first." Connor sighed in relief. He stood up from his seat, quickly, and rushed to the entrance of the room. Snatching the hall pass, he slammed the door open. But he turned his now swirling red face towards Ms. Lynde, a middle-aged ginger. ¡°Can I go to the bathroom, butterflies are in me again.¡± He said, concerned. ¡°Meh, yes you can go. Class is about to end anyways so just make it quick.¡± The boy smiled in relief, a creepy relief. He closed the door slowly, and pulled out a thumbs up and then a V sign. But the teacher just shook it off, no need to worry about this little thing. But... rumble...rumble... Chapter 4.2: Triage One Rumble...rumble... Rumble...rumble... The lethargic Matt lowered his gaze towards his belly. There was some sort of piercing pain in his stomach, made worse by a feeling of fullness. He hunched over his back, and planted his face against the frigid, and hard wood of his desk. Overrun with multiple pages of paper. ¡±This really isn¡¯t making me feel any better.¡± Matt muttered. ¡°You alright there, M-Matt.¡± Otto quietly stuttered. He slowly moved his gaze towards his colleague, low and cold. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ fine.¡± ¡°Really, you don¡¯t look fine. You look as if you¡¯re dead or something.¡± ¡°...I just look like this when I don¡¯t have anything to eat.¡± ¡°Deal with it. Y-You can last until lunch.¡± ¡°...¡± Matt raised himself from the hardwood, just as the teacher stopped babbling on and on about sciency stuff. She had just finished writing a massive chart of numerous living beings and how they interconnected with each other on how they gathered energy. But, she wasn¡¯t that great of an artist. What the hell is that supposed to be, a beaR? ¡°And this is how the food chain works. Producers gather up energy from a solar source and turn it into energy, then different types of consumers come in to eat the producers, and then some others will eat the other consumers. And then there''s the apex consumer, or apex predator. Any questions? If not, then have a wonderful day further, and enjoy your lunch break. Class is dismissed for now!¡± Ring!!! Some groans of relief were released from some people. Matt though, he wasn¡¯t really that dramatic of a person. He just went on in silent relief. ¡°That lasted for two hours, sigh." ¡°Matt, t-that was only for one.¡± ¡°Relax, it¡¯s just an exaggeration. A real accurate one. But, where is that Connor? He should be back by now. ¡°...D-do you think he just up and left?¡± ¡°Nope, Mr. Garcia would¡¯ve dragged his fat ass back here. Unless¡­¡± slide. ¡®Oh great. This fluffball actually came in.¡¯ Matt turned his head towards the entrance of the room. The sliding door was open and some students who were eager to leave just stood there. Some other person was standing in their way. A tall, lanky man with dark skin who wore a scarlet waistcoat, stepped into the room just before anyone had begun to leave for the cafeteria. "tsk...tsk... Excuse me! Just before you guys leave, can anyone explain why this kid was in the Gravity Storm simulator?" Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. The lanky man carried Connor on his right arm, squeezing him. "Lawrence? What are you doing here? Shouldn''t you be back in the faculty?" "I was, before I saw your student walking outside during school hours." ¡°Umph! Mr. Larry! I ain¡¯t doing what you think I wa¡ª¡± ¡°What the hell do you mean, Lee? The hell is that supposed to mean? You think I have time for your shit lies. You mean to say you standing there holding a molotov isn''t what I think you''re doing?" ¡°But, but, but¡­ ¡°No buts.¡± ¡°Lawrence, can you let Connor off your grip?¡± Ms. Lynde ordered. "He looks kind of beat up." The lanky bull threw on a smirking mask. And heaved Connor¡¯s flailing body towards the desk¡­ calmly. ¡°Oof. That hurt.¡± ¡°Next time I see you there, I¡¯m going to do it again only that time. I¡¯m doing it in the office.¡± ¡°Woah, woah do you need some help there?¡± Matt held out his hand towards the fallen Connor, who was struggling to stand. Connor looked Matt in the eye, his friend¡¯s face as stoic brick in the temple. ¡°Sure¡­ Ow, ow, ow¡­ Damn that really hurts. Especially after that punch they threw earlier¡­ gasp.¡± Connor coughed horridly. He helped himself up, although he limped across the floor. ¡°Porter!¡± Twintails called out. ¡°You aren¡¯t thinking of going to the clinic without the pass? ¡°Well then throw the damn thing to me, I need to get my boy to the clinic you see.¡± Twintails, who was loitering near the wall, seized the pass and tossed it towards Matt. The pass, though, missed by a few meters and slid off behind Matt. He helped Connor up and away they went. *** "Better luck next time!" a feminine voice taunted. Coins, bombs, diamonds, and cherries all fell on the slot machine, swiftly turning into a blurred line. The nurse leant forward, focusing her sight on the lines. Slowly, even though it was actually quite quick, the lines began to swirl into three lines and they cast a hypnotic spell on the nurse. Taking a sip of her newly brewed black coffee, she continued spending her coffers on the gambling website. "Better luck next time!" the feminine voice again taunted. "Dang it, another bust." The nurse groaned. The nurse flattened her chair, and lay down while she was still technically seated. I don¡¯t know, they don¡¯t make these kinds of chairs here. The lights from above seared her tired eyes, not to mention the daylight. ¡°Why is it so hard? To win. To win! It''s rigged, definitely, rigged.¡± Again, the nurse groaned. Creak! ¡°Hello, Diane. Nice to see you." "Hmm? What the hell are you doing here, Matt. Injured yourself on the stairs?" "No, no, no. I''m quite fine." "Well, why''d you come? Is it because of Connor, who''s on your back?" "Yes. He got thrown to the desk. He also said he got punched by Mr. Garcia earlier." "Shit he''s doing that again. Crud that vice-principal. He''s really going to get it when the principal returns." "Matt, Matt. Can you make me lie down on a bed, but sideways? It''s still wrecking my systems." Connor wheezed. He tugged on Matt''s tie, getting his attention. "I really need some rest..." Matt relented and placed him on a bed. It faced towards a window, with a... terrible view of the urban skyline. "Thanks, amigo." "Yep, anytime... Hey, Diane? Are you gambling again?" "Gambling? What the hell are you talking about, Matt." Matt raised his finger towards the desktop, which was still flashing some lights and playing cheeky chiptunes. "What''s that?" "That''s just a slot machine." "So gambling, but anywho... I''m done here" Matt sighed, before leaving the clinic and back into the frigid hallways. Chapter 5: A Penult Call The orange arms of twilight spread across the expanding and darkening blue sky, although obscured by the numerous concrete sticks from the ground. By now, most who were slouching by the offices were either taking the only buses, visiting restaurants, nightclubs, or hopped home via the Ferriviary, the City''s rail network. That sense of freedom and exhaustion gave both pain and pleasure, so everyday needs hours of zen. Matt sat on the left side, leant towards the tinted windows, eyes closed; On a ride home. And Connor sat by next to the seat to his right, reading a good novel. Meanwhile, his contemporary began trying slouching his back and sat while folding both legs on the vinyl-leather seats, only making him even more of a fucking weirdo. Of course, it was worse when someone was watching you do misfortune. A dreaded feeling of shame lingers more and more behind your back. The light passed through the tinted windows of the train, and cast cool blue shadows through the restricted train shell. Connor then put down his novel, and faced Matt in the eye. "Thanks for taking me along with you on the Ferry, amigo. Haha." Connor cackled, "I suppose that I''d be that busted up to have some wicked breathing problems. At least, Diane found a great way to fix me up. Nothing I can''t handle, really eh?" Cough! Cough! "Urgh¡­ Yep, I can say that again! Ha!¡± ¡®I¡¯ve seen you in better days and ways than now. You¡¯re not looking too hot.¡¯ Matt shook his head. "Oh right, I almost forgot something." Matt sighed, apathetically but curiously. "You never explained why you were there holding a fucking molotov nor did you mention why you were there in the simulator. And looking like that. Tell me what happened, I''ll listen.. uh, amigo?" "Amigo, you don''t have to sound like you''re holding a crap but sure, Matt. Anything for an amigo." It wasn''t that often Connor would agree or listen. Usually, he¡¯d just scoff at any attempt on a favor, or a sob story made by the girls who¡¯d try to woo him over. Perhaps it was because he was in a good mood right now. "Ahem¡­ Right, remember that time I had to go do a number two?" Connor said confidently. "The bathroom on our floor was kind of bad, like real bad. So I brought my ass down to the first floor''s one. When I did that, the number two, I was quite surprised by how quickly it went. That tai¡ª" "What the fuck, just get to the point. Your shit doesn''t matter to me." "Hold on, hold on. I''m just about to go to the best part." Connor flashed a smirk. That creepy grin''s back... "I began walking back the stairs to class, feeling good about myself, right, right? But before I even stepped forwards onto a single step, two weird looking individuals pushed me by the shoulder." "Weird looking individuals¡­?" "Yeah, they were wearing some fancy shit. Tuxedos, I guess. They were rushing downstairs towards the basement¡­ Anywho, I followed them and they breached into¡­ into the simulator. I don''t know what they want, so don¡¯t ask me." Hiss! Ding dong! "Now arriving at Inverngate Circus Station, please mind the gap and exit the train slowly...¡± A raspy, feminine and quaint voice uttered on the loudspeaker. "There¡¯s my stop, amigo" Connor said, ¡°I''ll call my mom to pick me up. See you on the other side, amigo." "Yeah, see you¡­" Connor waved towards Matt, slowly being swallowed through the boarding crowd of people, waiting for the train. Tired and wanting something relaxing to do after work hours. But it was starting to get more and more cramped inside, and a sensational displeasure began to grow among everyone. Hiss! Ding dong! ¡°Next stop, Rideau Mont Station¡­¡± ¡°Excuse me? Can I take this seat?¡± A dejected voice boomed. Matt heaved his head up, frowning and annoyed, towards the voice. Daggers for eyes were pointed towards him, but mildly softer and more than usual... ¡°Sure¡­¡± He sighed. ¡°Just make sure to be quiet, I¡¯m taking a call.¡± Matt exhaled a large relief of air, and folded his legs onto his seat. Finally, some temporary comfort. He whisked his hands around his pockets like a claw machine, attempting to get a prize. A phone. Beep¡­ Beep¡­ *pick up* ¡°Hello? Lillian Port¡ª, shit¡­ This better not be you Pavlov. I don¡¯t have the mone¡ª.¡± ¡°Lillie, you fucking idiot. It''s me, your younger brother, Matt." ¡°...Matty? Oh for fuck sakes, why didn¡¯t you say so.¡± ¡°I had no chance to say that¡­ You literally thought I was the loan shark you mentioned." This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. ¡°Pfft... I thought it was you. How could I forget my little bubby Matty~" Matt sighed disappointingly, and leant his face against the mist filled window of the train. He''d forgotten how much of an airhead his older sister could be, and how she reveled in debt. Bet her partner¡¯s having the only time of his life¡­ But, this was how she''d always been, and it wasn''t going to change any sooner. ¡°Don¡¯t call me that.¡± ¡°Oh, I¡¯m just joking. By the way, we''re about a few kilometers away from Stykke. I can''t wait to meet Pop and Ma again! It''s gonna be so, so great to see ¡®em again. PS: Timber-pie''s also bringing his famous Creek Steak." ¡°You¡¯re bringing Timber? That punk bitch?" ¡°Yup, I¡¯m bringing him along. And don¡¯t call him a punk bitch, he¡¯s my hubby, bubby.¡± Matt scratched his head¡­ ¡®She¡¯s bringing that tool along¡­ Wonder why...'' ¡°...Matty? Still there?" "Y-yeah, I am. My mind buzzed off for a moment." Such awkward silence ensued, so blatantly awkward. Oh god. Matt tapped his foot rapidly, and in a rush. He again peered towards his patina watch, which had struck the next bit near seven. It was such a late hour, but Matt blushed for some random reason. ¡°Matt, we¡¯re past the tunnel. I can see the Stykke skyline, it¡¯s so striking in the dusk hours!¡± ¡°Really, well that''s a shame I can''t see that. Haha." ¡°Oh, it seems like Timber-pie~ is awake. ¡°Lillie? Wh-who¡¯re you talking to?¡± Timber yawned. From the sound of his voice, it seemed as if he was stretching his arms. ¡°Oh it¡¯s just my little bubby brother.¡± ¡°Maa...att? Oh, right, him¡­ Well, I¡¯ll be taking another nap.¡± ¡°Talk to you later, Matty-kun~ I¡¯ve spotted a terry-terrific spot!¡± ¡°See you?¡± Beep! Matt sighed in relief. Although it felt like eyes were glaring towards him. ¡°Your sister seems nice.¡± The dejected voice whispered. Matt turned his head slowly towards her. She was wearing the same uniform as him, albeit with a skirt instead of pants. Plus she was wearing a red beanie over her head, which showed some strands of hair along her face. ¡°What makes you think that?¡± ¡°The genuine love and care in her voice, duh.¡± The passenger remarked. ¡°She seems a whole lot better than my brother, always at work¡­ He¡¯s definitely a hard worker, but too much of one. Doesn¡¯t help that he¡¯s a perfectionist, at least that¡¯s what he purports to be.¡± ¡°Feels bad man.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t, he¡¯s a Mesa Delta employee. That¡¯s what is expected for their employees. At least, that¡¯s what he says.¡± ¡°Oh¡­¡± ¡®A Mesa Delta employee, I wonder if he¡¯s anything like my mother.¡¯ ¡°I think I know you¡­¡± ¡°Really?¡± ¡°Think so¡­ Your name¡­ It¡¯s Moraine, right.¡± ¡°Oh, so you¡¯re in the same class as me. Never got your name, mind if you tell me?¡± ¡°It¡¯s¡­ Matt¡­ Matt Porter.¡± ¡°Porter¡­ Are you related to Nifa Porter?¡± ¡°...No.¡± Matt snapped. He shook his head vehemently, along with his hands. ¡°You¡¯re lying. You¡¯ve even got the same brown hair as her.¡± ¡°...Nope. I am not lying." ¡°Well, I won¡¯t make a big deal about it. I¡¯ll just stay quiet.¡± Moraine flashed a smile, and gestured a thumbs-up towards Matt. Matt smiled back, although it was kind of distressed.
Rideau Mont, where nightshades would often grow, and numerous pedestrians walked by. It was now the dusk of light, what a pain but oh hey. At least school was over, by over two whole hours right now. Matt walked out of a nearby grocery store, clenching both his backpack and a plastic bag filled with err... grocery, duh. He blended within the pedestrians ¡°Brr¡­ Nature too? Even in the summer.¡± He rubbed himself with his bare hands and put them against his cotton school shirt. Mayhaps, it was because of global cooling, or maybe it was just his breath. The menthol in gum really does some weird things to your mouth, doesn''t it? "Hey, fancy seeing you here in Rideau Mont, M-Matt." Otto''s voice spoke out. Matt stopped cold in his tracks. "I just came here to buy some groceries. I got bored, as always.¡± Matt uttered. A chewing noise could be heard behind his speech. ¡°And the games and films aren''t doing it for me right now¡­ It''s just so bland." "Right buddy, I know, so scratch that, I''ve actually bought two boxes of pizza. Cheese pizza and shrimp garlic. L-let''s go home before they turn cold. A quick ride through the Ferry could get us in 5 minutes." "Sure, but one thing?" "What''s that?" "Do you want to try testing out the thing at midnight?" "...?" Otto looked at his drained friend, surprised at his motion. A test? At midnight, what of the curfew? He clenched the pizza boxes off from his hand, and stood still. Maybe he was pondering, as to what he would reply to his friend, who was moving from his place. "I-I don''t know¡­ We''d be past curfew hours, and we might get the confluenza¡­ You really want to risk that?" "Of course, I want to risk that. I want you to see it for yourself, my cur¡ª er, powers¡­ And we''ll be wearing our face masks so it''d be fine anyways." ¡°Oh, and quick before I-I forget.¡± Otto uttered. ¡°When did they manifest?¡± ¡°Who¡¯s they?¡± ¡°The powers, Matt! W-what did you think I meant by that?¡± ¡°...Three years ago, I think.¡± Matt uttered under his breath. "One more thing. Where are you going to go for a job? We''re like on our final terms, and we''ll have to go to college by then. So, where are you going to go for a job." Otto paused for a moment, as still as a reed blowing against the wind. The reeds being his bleached hair. His glasses fogged up, from the hot air rising from his mask. The "If I had to guess, a researcher at Nicene Krai or Mesa Delta." He answered. "Cause, someone as bright as me might further their ventures. ''B-bout you, Matt. What occupation would you take." "...Astronaut." "Astronaut, h-huh. Pretty ambitious, you sure you''re up for it?" "Maybe. You know, I''m something of a space enthusiast, myself." "Is it because of that planet past our moon?" "..."
White began to invade the orange twilight, as usual for most of recorded history. The light was bright, and while it was white, it came from the natural satellite. Casting themselves through the lens of the lengthy silver-coated telescope, ''twas so bright, and into Matt''s acute eyes. Matt loitered on top of the fire escape stairwell in his apartment, the cold wind blowing against his face (Although he had a face mask on). He adjusted the telescopic sight, up high, focusing past the natural satellite. A blue and shining planet could be seen. It was something of a great view. ¡°Heh, heh¡­ It¡¯s clear tonight¡­ Just you wait, there¡­ I will get to you someday.¡± Matt declared, taking his sight off the scope. "But I think the newest issue should be out by now, but what should I eat tonight to savor it... Pizza? Or just a cup of instant noodles..."Matt sighed, itching his head. He then slid his right hand along the oily fringes of his forehead. He then grasped towards his backpack, which was lying nearby, against the green steps and rails. His hands trembled a bit, promptly so from a nearby trestle that supported a Ferry line. It was loud and rattling steel, still an annoyance. "Corrupt dickheads, they really do not care for the noise pollution." Matt pushed himself into the window, right leg first. After which he slowly slid the window down. Chapter 6: Crossing Paths "M-Matt, you know that this... is a bit too excessive." Otto unimpressively stammered. ¡°Are you sure you want to call the parlor for another three pizzas?!¡± There were two boxes of pizza that lay on the table, all empty. All that was left was oil stains on the cardboard box, some bothersome crumbs and the sauces that were supposed to accompany the pizza. Now, they just lied on the table, opened, while Matt ate in front of them. Otto looked at his phone, ten unread notifications were present. All for the cause of never hearing that dreaded bell ding. He raised his finger, and swept them away of course, it wasn¡¯t anything important. He ruffled his hair, which was getting stupidly itchy. It was kind of¡­ frustrating watching Matt call the parlor. It was like throwing paper at women. "This amount of pizza can feed a family of four, in a day.¡± said Otto, swiping on his phone, and feet up on the table. ¡° You didn¡¯t need to buy another three boxes of pizza. It¡¯s just a waste.¡± ¡±It¡¯s fine, you know that.¡± Matt sighed. ¡°You can¡¯t blame me ¡ª the joint you bought those pizzas in are so fucking delicious. Plus, I have three jobs. I can afford it.¡± ¡±Just because you work three part-time jobs, doesn¡¯t mean that you¡¯ll be able to fork out both the rent and food this month. And that¡¯s not even mentioning the way you eat, my fucking god.¡± ¡±Hmm?¡± Matt grunted. He raised his gaze, his suddenly bold grey eyes towards his roommate. "Trust me, I have a valid reason to eat as much as this," Matt explained. "Not that I barely ate anything during school hours, but it''s so that I''ve got the energy to do those supernatural things. They drain me of energy whenever I do that, and it''s kind of a pain to do.¡± The roommate however, rubbed his forehead, all flustered and red. A chuckle wheezed out of him, though it wasn¡¯t as audible. Matt heard it though, and it''s as if a spark began to flicker above his head ¡ª which burnt his head. "You know, th-that was the most outlandish thing you said to me when I was writing those papers. That''s not counting the eating dog shit part." "Hold on a fucking minute¡­ you took that seriously? Tell me you did not.¡± Matt exclaimed, immediately stopping everything he was doing. ¡±What are you talking about, you said that. I¡¯ve got a good memory, Matt.¡± said Otto. He was confident with his voice, no stutter or stammer in sight. ¡±I know that. But that was just a fucking joke. A joke!¡± "...Bullshit. Th-the way you said it, clearly meant that it was fact. You¡¯re telling me it isn¡¯t?¡± "No, no. It isn''t. Goddamn it, just forget about it.¡± THUD! THUD! ¡°Keep it down, you goddamn fuckwads!! I¡¯m trying to catch me some fucking sleep!¡± An angry voice, though muffled, came through the walls. "Oh, we¡¯ve disturbed the neighbors again.¡± ¡°We sure did, Otto. It was kind of obvious from the noise, so¡­ thank you Captain Obvious.¡± Matt stood up from his chair, and dusted off the crumbs off his clothes, a cotton white shirt and brown trousers. He took his lead and covered himself with a jacket which lay on a chair near a white desk. It was dark grey, and had the fleece of sheep around the jacket¡¯s neck. Fitting of a cold environment, though, the city was hardly anything but. ¡±Anyway, I¡¯m going to go outside and go stargazing.¡± Matt uttered out of his mouth. ¡°Tonight¡¯s a day when the planet¡¯s in it¡¯s clearest view...¡± Otto sighed. ¡±I am going to meet someone at the park later, by the way.¡± ¡±Don¡¯t worry about it.¡± Matt stepped out of the window, left leg first. He flapped his jacket, and blinked twice. He raised his gaze towards the sky, a dark night. Most days, it would be covered in smog. A freezing cold breeze immediately bonked Matt in the back. And a lingering feeling began to return in a very uninviting way. But he stood still, fixing his telescope. He turned it left, turned it right. Up and down, just to piss himself off. Though, it never happened. ¡±Didn¡¯t I do this earlier?¡± Matt suddenly spoke out. ¡°...Nope, definitely not...¡± Matt raised the telescope, right towards the moon. It loomed over the ground below, like if it were to crash down even if it didn¡¯t look like it. Behind it was that blue planet. It was visible, but not by much, I wonder why. Though one notable detail about it though, was it¡¯s miniscule and barely visible yellow-blue specks. They¡¯d often periodically appear, and disappear. About the same time night and day hit around here¡­ Evidently, it¡¯s a strange phenomenon that has been observed by numerous astronomers. They considered many things, though, and settled on an expansive thunderstorm. Although¡­ Matt wasn¡¯t that convinced. He looked down, and saw a small lens cap. He looked at it with a bit of a scowl; wiping it with a cleaning liquid that he pulled out of his jacket. ¡±Damn it, I forgot to put it back inside¡­¡± Matt sighed, ¡° This humid air sucks, it¡¯s even worse than the cold.¡± *** People are like caffeine to a city, once there¡¯s too much of it, you can never sleep ever again unless they¡¯re gone. If that were the case, then this city overdosed on it. Previously tired people now riddle along the arteries and veins of the city, and keep it awake. From dusk and dawn, the city devolves into this state. Among these were three gangsters. hanging around North Advent Park, playing the booming sounds of rap music around the streets. Numerous young men and women hung around in a crowd, dancing, prancing, and twerking their asses to the slapping beat. Tap! ¡°Hey, hey, hey! Whatcha doin¡¯ with our shit, man. You looking for some trouble?¡± ¡°Sorry fellas, but the park is closed. Go home.¡± ¡°Oh ho, ho. We really got ourselves a do-gooder. Homies, whatcha say we hunker down on this fool? For creating some¡­ inconvenience.¡± His mates nodded in a slow, but¡­ sick approval. The modest cop though, his movements went from stiff to agile, quickly reached for the holster hanging from his utility belt. Quite an annoyance for some. Though, they can easily be countered. But still, quite an annoyance. But, it wouldn¡¯t be Stykke without all of its strikes of rife in the night. ¡°Sigh¡­ It¡¯s always like this at night.¡± Matt scowled, itching his wild hair. ¡°The music sucks, and it got way warmer than usual. I fucking hate this humid air. It fucked up my telescope¡¯s lenses, you know.¡± ¡°You didn¡¯t forget to bring it back in, did you.¡± Otto stammered, ¡°When you went to visit your mother, right.¡± ¡±Uhh¡­ Yeah, I did.¡± ¡°Anyways, at le-least now that we¡¯re in the park. Why don¡¯t you start by trying to lift this large stick,¡± said Otto, who was taking out a clipboard dotted with notes. Somehow just like the old billboards around Rideau Mont. ¡°It¡¯s a simple thing, really.¡± ¡°We could¡¯ve gone a little earlier.¡± Matt muttered to himself, ¡°Instead, he just had to¡­ He¡¯s definitely a perfect fit for a Mesa Delta researcher¡­¡± Matt dusted off the flakes lying down on his shoulder. Looking dapper, he flapped his dark grey, cotton-wool aviator jacket, flashing his white T-shirt behind it. But the truth is, dapper doesn¡¯t mean fly and cool since he hates the cold, after all. Matt spat on the ground.... ¡°W-what¡¯s the difference, we might even be in one, buddy. So just forget about it, eh?¡± ¡°Shut up! I am trying to focus on this. You, my friend, don¡¯t know shit about this.¡± Otto fell silent. Matt calmed himself down, and thought of something. A cringe pose¡­ perhaps it was wise to do one which looked like it was effective¡­ cringey. Couldn¡¯t the creators think of something better to make, and not just recycle the same exact idea over and over. Well¡­ he could show off anyways. Matt jerked his arm forwards, and clenched his fist. ¡°Levitation¡­¡± Matt sighed forcefully. ¡°Well, I¡¯ll be damned,¡± Otto exclaimed. ¡°Turns out it wasn¡¯t cap.¡± Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. ¡±Of course it wasn¡¯t cap. Thud¡­ Matt instinctively jerked his head towards a noise that grew closer. Or rather the near-silent steps that marched towards their direction. A curvy silhouette began to appear, but it was rather short. ¡±Someone there?¡± ¡±Huh?¡± ¡°Wh-what? Porter, Metz?!¡± She shrieked in shock, ¡°¡­Wait a minute, wh-what are you doing here? A-a-and what the f¡ª¡± Twintails, or rather, Ronnie¡­ She stood at where she stopped. Understandably shocked at the levitating log. ¡°Oh, he-hey¡­ What are you doing here, Ronnie?¡± Otto calmly spoke out, still writing notes along the clipboard. ¡°Also, what¡¯s up with the outfit?¡± ¡±These, umm¡­ I had no clothes to wear.¡± She spoke out. ¡°I borrowed it from my mother. But, she was kind of acting strangely, telling me ¡®Got someone?¡¯ and it was uncomfortable.¡± Twintails was sporting a ¡°Wait¡­ oh no, no, no...¡± Meanwhile, Matt slowly lowered the log back to the ground. He grasped his left arm onto his right, both trembling, and was looking gassed and inconvenienced. It was like a rock was stuck on his arm¡ª no, a boulder. The log, which for a moment was still levitating, wasn¡¯t levitating. It began to quickly fall down to the ground, just like confetti at a birthday place, and heading towards Matt¡¯s face. Though, he just shifted left and quickly sputtered ¡®Levitation¡¯, which slowed the log¡¯s inertia. ¡±Oof, I¡¯ve overdone it.¡± Matt sputtered out, collapsing onto his knees. ¡±Yo-you okay, there Matt?¡± said Otto, leaning off of the bench he was sitting on. ¡±Yeah¡­ I¡¯m fine,¡± Matt sighed. ¡°Don¡¯t fawn over me, right now.¡± ¡±Porter! What the hell did you just do now?¡± A familiar snapping voice called out, ¡°That was magic isn¡¯t it.¡± ¡±No, it¡¯s¡ª¡± ¡±So¡­ it¡¯s just regular ol¡¯ magic.¡± ¡±No¡­ There¡¯s a difference. Magic in fantasy needs mana power, or MP. I don¡¯t, because this ain¡¯t no fantasy. It¡¯s real life, I guess...¡± ¡°M-Matt, can you please talk quieter?¡± Otto interrupted. The roommate¡¯s face was turning red, but his eyes told something else. Crumpets? ¡±Ronnie, you too. I-I just saw a flash of light from there.¡± ¡°Twintails, why are you here, and wearing such¡­ skimpy clothes, it kinda looks¡­ cute on you Twintails. You aren¡¯t working as some sort of an escort are y¡ª¡± ¡°¡­It¡¯s not what it looks like, Porter. And don¡¯t place me among those lowly whores. I¡¯m too refined for that, and I¡¯m a minor as well.¡± Ronnie did a small, but haughty pout. Awww¡­ it made her look even cuter. "Would you mind to explain why?¡± ¡±A date¡­ Yes, you heard me.¡± Matt tilted his head forward, leaning right into her face. That smut face from earlier dissipated, either she¡¯s just calm or she¡¯s in her regular persona. Twintails simply pushed him back into place, and whilst the conversation kept going Otto was scribbling furiously on the clipboard. ¡±Right, and this person told you to meet them here.¡± ¡±Obviously, it¡¯s super cliche now. They even put a letter inside my locker, but it somehow convinced me to come here. Probably because I wanted to take a walk in the park.¡± "..." ¡±So¡­ Why don¡¯t we get out of the park before we get apprehended by the park rangers.¡± Otto blurted out. *** "Good evening, industrious little fellows. Once again it''s your boy, Liam Holtz, back on air. Lorraine? She¡¯s busy with something at the moment, her umm¡­ family showed up. One thing to note is that she''ll be back in time for the session. Joining me temporarily however, is our good ol'' editor, Dave." "Thanks for having me here, Liam. Tonight''s been an eventful day, hasn''t it.¡± "You said it, Dave. Oh, and big shout-out to Jack Kernsey, for winning today¡¯s challenge. Three-thousand in cash, that¡¯s a lot for someone to dream of¡­ Now let''s move on with the program." Static coughing sounded over the radio. Rowan stared at it, entranced by Liam''s voice. Though, his passenger wasn''t having it. "Rowan, keep your eyes ON THE ROAD!!." "H-huh, wait..." Rowan quickly jerked his forearms left, tipped his red cap higher, revealing his grey eyes. "Sorry about that, Sophie¡­¡± "You should be, you could¡¯ve crashed into the pedestrians. Imagine the repercussions you may cause, you will have to pay more than what you have." "Sophie, you don''t need to burn me that much. Only a tiny singed wound would work." "So, so... What do you think of the Junior Expeditionary Force, Dave. Those folks at Mesa Delta really are in it in their bid for space exploration. But they must be very, very careful. They may bleed their fundings dry, and I bet the powers that be won''t be as forgiving since the recession." "Nicene Krai''s doing the same thing, remember. Their director specifically said that they would do it before the 60th anniversary of their founding.¡± ¡°So, two years from now. I see, they¡¯re really desperate.¡± Liam noted, as you can tell. ¡°Yeah, also make sure to wear your masks at all times when outdoors, and wash your hands properly. Don¡¯t want to catch the confluenza now would ya.¡± ¡°I¡¯m so happy that you were discharged very quickly, although did you really have to immediately go back to work? I mean, you''re very vulnerable to disease, because of the confluence.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I always make sure those are tied tight. Today¡¯s been bright, I¡¯ve been handling paperwork, testing subjects and anomalies... Though, I didn¡¯t expect to take a leave today, and it does not regard my condition.¡± ¡°What, did something go wrong?¡± ¡°Of course, something went wrong.¡± Sophie uttered out, filled with distraught. ¡°One of my boys got exposed to an extremely potent AMDU, and to think that it was my favorite one too¡­ He had so much potential. It was already impressive enough that he was a prodigy, but man¡­ he just had to¡­¡± ¡±Darn shame, but what happened to him now?¡± ¡±He¡¯s been placed into a secure location, just to make sure he recovers.¡± ... Sophie then suddenly sneezed, yet it was quite quaint. She quickly pulled out her handkerchief, holding it with her pinkie erect and out. Subsequently, she blew her nose. But ¡±Disgusting¡­ But anyways, how¡¯s things going on back in the household? Are they fine?¡± ¡±...Yeah, it¡¯s fine. Lillie¡¯s coming back to visit and participate in Brine Fishing Day, and he¡¯s coming along too. Matt, though, he¡¯s just¡­ doing his own thing. He¡¯s growing up, and lately becoming more and more independent. I reckon he¡¯ll be just fine in the future, nothing will really hurt him.¡± ¡±Rowan¡­ Look, can you give me your phone?¡± ¡±Why? Did you leave yours at your office?¡± ¡±... Just give it to me.¡± Rowan glanced towards his wife, flashing his tender eyes towards her bold eyes. Her light brown hair was neatly tied in a short ponytail, standard in places with working conditions like Mesa Delta, and still wore the standard uniform at the place. A lab coat, cotton white, and a black trousers. But, enough about her, he probably thought. He opened his truck¡¯s glove box, and took out an antiquated old phone. The cheapest you can buy from a flea market. ¡±Thank you,¡± *** The pedestrian crowd mumbles and chatters, posters and stickers lay about on walls and telephone booths. The early morning of Tuesday has begun, and it was getting quite lively. ¡±Porter, did you send that letter?¡± Twintails asked, pushing through the crowd. ¡°I hope not, cause I don¡¯t have the thing for you.¡± ¡±Sorry,¡± Matt sighed, ¡°Huh? No, what are you talking about?¡± ¡±Nothing¡­ Make sure you wake up early for the field trip tomorrow.¡± Ring! Ring! Ring! ¡±Another call¡­ It¡¯s Dad. Otto, can you go on without me? This call is going to take a while,¡± ¡±Sure, I mean I was going to do that anyways.¡± Matt nodded back towards Otto, and then did the two-fingered salute back at him. He then walked back against the crowd, running, and jumping at the same time. ¡±Watch it!¡± ¡±Excuse me!¡± ¡±Oof, hey! I¡¯m walking here!¡± I had no time to mind the pedestrians, I needed to take this call. I slowed down my gait to a jot, and to a walk. Now would probably be a good time to just answer the goddamn phone now. I peered towards my phone, and swiped left. ¡±Hello?¡± I said. The hot, humid air pushed against my face. ¡±Good evening, Matt Porter¡­¡± ¡±Wh-wh¡­ Who the fuck is this.¡± I shuddered, a throbbing thought began to wander back into my mind. My busy and inconvenienced mind. ¡±Matt, calm down¡­ For now, you can call me Sophie.¡± ¡±Okay, Sophie¡­ So why are you calling from my dad¡¯s phone?¡± ¡±I¡¯m with him right now, I just borrowed his phone. But I have something else to discuss.¡± Something else to discuss, what else is there to discuss. I looked up towards the sky, the clouds could still be seen, thanks to the nightlife. ¡±Do you know Nifa Porter?¡± ¡±Yeah¡­ That¡¯s my mother.¡± ¡±Right, she umm¡­wanted me to er¡­ pass a message to you.¡± ¡±...Let me just say it. ¡°I¡¯d like to apologize for something she had done to you, three years ago. You know what it is, don¡¯t you. Let me remind you that I had no hand in them, those were standard protocols needed to be done to children sentenced to our juvenile detention center¡±¡± ¡¯¡­Juvenile detention center, oh the memories. Those¡­ Fuck, I forgot. Actually I¡¯d rather forget talking about it. Too dark a subject to talk about.¡¯ ¡±Yeah, that¡¯s what she wanted to relay to you. Goodbye, for now.¡± Beep! Matt stood still like a reed. He felt pressure on his legs, more so on h¡ª my left leg. Don¡¯t get too stressed now, breathe it out. Matt breathed in and out. In and out. In and out. ¡¯...Almost lost my temper there.¡¯ Matt sighed, now leaning against a light pole. He peered towards his patina watch; 1 hour after midnight. A dreading feeling grew on him, and a distasteful fatigue grew on his back and legs. Eyes were beginning to let in fewer and fewer light in, and a drop of water seemed to fall off of his mouth. Overworked, just like the regular ol'' Joe breaking their backs real bad for money. "I need to sleep." Matt instinctively sputtered out of his trap. Yet, only in a few moments. An explosive jolt of energy came bursting out of his spine. It tingled, and felt weird, as if something were hanging by a thread. His legs were the instigators, and his mind just followed suit. His heart felt indifferent about the matter, but reneged later on. Crossy Road, anyone? An unsuspecting person stood there wearing the most strange thing. A spandex suit, all sci-fi and stuff, and a prussian blue helmet. At least, it looked human... Mostly. "Get on the OTHER SIDE!!!" He shouted. He pushed against the crowd and ran as fast as he could towards the other side of the road. Screech "KEEP YOUR EYES ON THE ROAD, BOY!!!" A familiar voice rang, and... nothing. Nothing but these sounds came into his Flap! Crack! ZOOOOOOOOOM!!!!! ... ... Chapter 7: The Dominoes In the southeastern seas, there lay a large archipelago of islands. These islands have remained in sweet isolation for years, creating beautiful diversity that rivals that of the great forests of the northwest. It still maintains the diversity, though under the foot of humans. One such island, located in the southeast of the largest island, lay about in a golden shower. It was a paradise for many, giving wealth and power. Fishermen unloaded their copious amounts of sea animals, and cargo ships docked on the port were packing the island¡¯s exploited resources to trade with others on the mainland. To put it simply, the people thrived like rabbits and rats. As with all tropical islands, that fresh and ripe odor of the pristine green seawater came about as usual, amplified by the smell of decomposing fish lying on the docks. But, by now people were used to it. It is absolutely better than smog that hides the mainland, who was just like a serial kidnapper called Chloroform. The island¡¯s inhabitants had loved this island so very much, people affectionately called it a name... Actually they have multiple names for this island, because the indigenous population still exists. Names like Hubbertail, Ruconia, were common. But they settled on the name that was already given to the largest town, Covedisa. In the wild west side of Covedisa, a small tavern was built. It overlooked a great view of the ocean, with the island¡¯s mountains turning a bluish-green on the horizon. The founders of this fine establishment had the insight to create an outdoor section, just for the regulars to admire while they converse and drink. The deputy of the police force was one such regular. He¡¯d just finished a full five hours of non-stop inspecting, turning every corner and avenue that was assigned to his beat, checking for some crime in the winding streets of town. He wore a simple, canvas, khaki brown uniform, and denim shorts that had pockets so large they could fit the entire island. And to top it all off, he wore a bright green beret contrasted with a red and yellow sword. Oh, and not to mention the silver badge. The deputy entered the tavern calmly, looking down on his black leather boots. He tapped on his toes, dropping all the dirt that had accumulated in the five hours. He wandered into his usual spot on the outdoor section, with a bottle of an aged rum. The rum tasted of a mellow sweetness, and it tasted old. The deputy smiled as he drunk the whole bottle up. But, he noticed a spice to it, and enjoyed it even more. Then, some thuds came about on the wooden flooring, and a certain someone was approaching. ¡±Hey there, Deputy.¡± A gruff voice called out. ¡°Nice to see you at Reed¡¯s.¡± Marsh turned his head towards where the voice came. A tall, fair-skinned, bulked-up man approached him from the entrance. He too wore the same uniform that Marsh wore, only he had a golden badge and a brown beret. He was holding three bottles of the same brand of rum that Marsh took, and sat down on the same table as him. ¡±Seems like you¡¯re done with your shift, are you taking the time off drinking?¡± The sheriff said, dropping all three rum bottles on the table. ¡±If you can call it that way, sheriff¡­ I¡¯m not in a great mood right now. My beat was something of a marathon.¡± ¡±Well, that¡¯s fine. I¡¯ve run this town for twenty-one years, and I¡¯ve never seen someone not complain of the beat. Patrolling is still a good deed though, so try to hold it in. Otherwise, this town¡¯d be filled with the lawbreakers.¡± A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. ¡±Speaking of which, it sure is quiet around these parts.¡± Marsh noted, ¡°Usually, there¡¯d be some incident regarding some rowdy privateers and some mutineers. I reckon the latest headlines scared them.¡± Deputy Marsh downed another bottle of rum, and gurgled it like mouthwash. ¡±Of course, ever since Gold Hegemon returned to make the news a few days ago. I feel bad for the people on the mainland, having to deal with him. That bounty hunter came from this very island, but I¡¯m glad he left twelve years ago.¡± ¡±Sheriff, you knew him personally?¡± Marsh inquired, downing a third bottle of rum. ¡±That¡¯s not important, Marsh.¡± The sheriff interrupted. ¡°He¡¯s just some delinquent that passed our prestigious license exam, and got infamous. Though, he¡¯s not some kind of angel either.¡± ¡±Right, right¡­ Though we do have some promising candidates this year.¡± ¡±Promising candidates. I¡¯ve not seen any of these promising candidates in action, and the exams take place in a month, so don¡¯t call them that right now, Marsh.¡± ¡±I think otherwise, Sheriff¡­¡± *** Inland of the island, this is where lush vegetation dominates, and where not that many people live. The rays of light from both stars are blocked by the canopies, which had tall greedy trees taking the energy. Because of these trees, the animals and plants who lived around here evolved in a way that they had to compete with each other for sparse energy. Three mountains protrude through the skies, standing taller than any of those trees could ever grow to a height. And in the valley between these mountains lay a small village, which its inhabitants call Florestabrindo. Most of these houses were built out of the stone from the mountain quarry and the lumber from the trees¡ªfashioned in a way that would make each house cool. In one of these houses, located on the outskirts of the village lived a young woman about to make her way in the big bad world. ¡±WOOOOO!¡± She howled, kicking her front door open. ¡°I am finally going to make my way in the world, wooooo! Nothing in the world can stop me! Me! Me! Me!¡± She wore a bright blue undershirt with goat fur on each end, and a long-sleeved dark blue cotton shirt that was rolled up towards her elbows. Bold red hair flowed through her black-orange bandana that was tied as a durag, and denim shorts that looked cut. ¡±Dear, dearie me¡­¡± Her mother muttered, standing next to the broken doorframe,¡± All grown up she is, and still doesn¡¯t have the damn decency to fucking open the door the normal way! Audrey! Come back here!¡± Audrey turned her back towards her residence, watching her mother slowly transform into a monster. Reluctantly, she stomped back towards her mother. It was just about the worst kind of scenario to happen to her, and she slapped her forehead knowing that. ¡±Did you have to call me now? I was just about to head out¡­¡± said Audrey stomping her feet. ¡±Are you that oblivious?¡± Her mother snapped, ¡°You kicked down our door, again. I¡¯ve already told you so many times to open the door like how a normal person would.¡± ¡±Well, that¡¯s how I¡¯ve always done it.¡± ¡±...sigh. Try keeping yourself busy, alright. You¡¯re going to have a lot of time before you reach Covedisa. Perhaps you could meet some new friends, and some people to love. Or, you could just focus on making yourself the best you can. That exam is going to be tough, you know.¡± ¡±I guess, mom. Well, I¡¯m going to take my leave now. I¡¯ll say goodbye to everyone, alright. See ya!¡± ¡±Don¡¯t forget to send me some letters too.¡± ¡±I will, I can¡¯t wait to share my adventures with you.¡± Audrey darted forward, waving towards her mother, who had a great big grin on her face. But, a single tear did drop off her eyes. She might never see her beloved daughter again. Her father would be pleased with what she''d become, but he''d be too busy underground doing things. But the first domino has fallen. Chapter 8: Station Strong winds wooshed by, blowing the sock southwest with a persistence streak. It winded along the numerous buildings and trees in the village, bringing a posse of intimidating soldiers who marched the usually azure sky. They were dressed in a grey standard uniform which made them look cold and held with them guns patiently¡­ Waiting for the moment to unleash the storm that brewed below. The eager young girl, Audrey, watched from the safety of a small station. She sat by on an old brown bench, munching on a bag of salted legumes, swaying her restless legs wherever. Meanwhile, there was a lengthy line of people on the right side of the station, all barking at the clerk of the train station. He was constantly heckled by the people, whose moods were a bit under the weather. But, per the regular code enforced by his company, he had to keep up a friendly smile¡ª a smile which was beginning to loosen and lose its genuine shine. Meanwhile, the porters plodded around with their duty, sometimes tilting their head on some rather engrossing juice. They dragged dark stones finely cut into sheets, and luggage of some who managed to get a ticket. ¡±Poor Norton,¡± One of the porters muttered, ¡°I do not know how he manages to keep that smile on, even though he''s under the weather.¡± ¡±Insane willpower, probably or perhaps a habit.¡± His co-worker answered. ¡°Other than that, I can¡¯t really think of anything else.¡± Suddenly, the clerk slammed his desk with a single blow, and immediately stormed out of the kiosk. He ran off and jumped off the station in a stomping rampage. The porters looked at each other with a look of ¡®I¡¯ve already seen this before, but it never gets old¡¯. ¡±There he goes¡­¡± One of them muttered. Almost simultaneously, the soldiers began unleashing the bullets down to the earth. The place suddenly dropped in heat, and the line mostly went to take shelter in the small station. Some of them rested on the meas Audrey stood up from the bench that she sat on, and stretched her ligaments forwards. Her eyes beamed around the surroundings, observing the people crazy enough to walk through the hellish and merciless bullet fire that they continued to fire. It seemed that there were a few who fit the description: an old man who strolled by with his best friend, some women of her age that had the foresight to bring an umbrella, most of the people who fled the station, and the tenacious ones that did not bother to bring cover. She then threw away an empty bag into a garbage bin, and went back to the bench she lazed about in, but not before taking out another bag of salted legumes out of her large juniper green duffel bag. Around the same time, the ticket clerk returned, all soggy from being under the weather. He stormed back towards his place, and promptly fixed everything inside it. When he did those things, he still had that awful looking grin still hanging on his sloppy eye bags. After which, he flipped a sign which hung on the window which had a sentence that was much to the chagrin of the rest who still desired to ride the locomotive to their stops. ¡°Sorry for the inconvenience, but we¡¯re closed for now. Come back in a few!¡± The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. Nevertheless, most of the line stayed there, some either sitting down on the benches, or on the edge of the station, or stood patiently while attending to their cargo or their children. And all the while this was going on, the bullets continued to fire down. As she watched, a A group of priests and priestesses marched forwards, all of them carrying with them black umbrellas. Following them was a young priestess who looked rearing to begin a grand journey. The young woman wore a hat, and was visibly trembling, she was also wearing vestments that were a light but bold yellow. The standard colors of the Church of Incognita, a relatively minor religion in the region. Most of the priests and priestess were spouting out some sermons to the young woman, which visibly made her flush red. Some of them were filled with joy, and some wept in worry. But many of them knew this was what she needed, for the very least. A dark cloud loomed over the future, ¡±G-Gosh!! Father, don¡¯t worry about me.¡± The young woman cheerfully said, ¡°I am in the hands of our goddess, no need to worry about it. You¡¯ll hear from me later on, so until then please pray for my safety..¡± ¡±May Incognita¡¯s grace fill you as always, Chloe!¡± The eldest priestess clapped, ¡°Your father would be so proud of you, Chloe¡­ Now then, order thee a ticket. Move on!!¡± The young priestess stepped into the line, whilst waving a goodbye towards her peers. She gripped the bag that she carried, tightly, dreaming of the future. *** A few minutes later, somewhat saddened, Chloe dropped to a bench. She hunched her back over, her head supported by her arms, and released the gates. A gripping bluish-purple hand began to grip over her mind, and insert some parts of doubt in her. ¡±It¡¯s closed¡­. Did I arrive here too late?¡± She muttered to herself, ¡°Can¡¯t be, the train for Covedisa leaves at two in the afternoon... So many people around here¡­¡± SLUURP! MUNCH! Chloe glanced towards where that most rude sound came from. The young woman had fiery red hair, and drooping on the side of her head, which was contained in a black and orange bandana. Something about her was strange. The young woman then stared towards Chloe, and her face looked quite annoyed. ¡±What are you looking at?¡± The rugged young woman prattled, ¡°That stare of yours, it¡¯s annoying.¡± ¡±Nothing¡­¡± Chloe sadly said, ¡°I was just brooding, and just when I was to begin my journey...¡± ¡±Oh, you are going on an adventure?!¡± The young woman spat. ¡°So am I. I¡¯ve gotten chills waiting for this day, from the rain and from the thought of it. Are you going to be a bounty hunter too?¡± ¡±Bounty hunter? I am not.¡± Chloe politely replied, ¡°That¡¯s too rough for me, and I¡¯d rather not be someone who fights other people. It¡¯s against my wishes, hope you understand.¡± ¡±I guess so,¡± said the young woman, but not before stuffing some more salted nuts into her mouth. ¡±Humor me for a moment, can you tell me your name. Just want to know who I am talking to, a kind of informal formality per se¡­¡± ¡±My name? It¡¯s Audrey.¡± ¡±Well, my name is Chloe. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.¡± Both women shook hands with each other, a pleasant formality at most. Yet, Chloe¡¯s senses started to tingle for a fraction of a moment. Something, somewhere flowed through her hand and into Audrey¡¯s hand, like an electric shock of sorts. Of course, that would be impossible, and Audrey looked at the lost Chloe¡¯s stare. ¡±Umm¡­ Can you let go of my hand?¡± Audrey asked. ¡°It¡¯s getting kind of awkward, you know...¡± ¡±H-huh, what was I doing?¡± Chloe mumbled, before letting go of her grip. ¡°Oh sorry¡­ I got lost for a second.¡± Chloe fumbled for a moment, and tried to collect her thoughts from the ground. She gripped her bag tightly... Then, a sharp hiss ensued, coming from the patina-covered, dusty speakers that hung over the wooden ceiling of the station. A fumbling and grumbling voice rang around it... ¡±Sorry that it took so, so, long, folks!! ¡± The clerk fumbled... ¡°Next train to Gitnapieza arrives in 5 minutes, and I mean it. Plus, we are open. Thank you for listening.¡± Chapter 9: Sleeper Hit Ol¡¯ Sleeper George continued to puff and snore white smoke, across the vast swathes of rice paddies that laid about. The torrent of rains persisted and kept on their stance, relentlessly continuing to fire their bullets, which flooded the lands below which reached heights that neared the tracks. But Sleeper George, regardless of whether he were asleep or awake or in travails, won¡¯t stop in his travels. Simply ¡®because he was like an unstoppable object. Chloe watched the rough landscape from the safety of the train. It was definitely a sight to see, but Chloe glared at it with nigh curiosity. A distant memory wavers withers in her mind, a shocking one to boot. Up above, the gods clapped and threw stuff down below. Electric blue, it shone... ¡±So, that¡¯s thunder?¡± Chloe inquired, glaring at Audrey with a mild case of dangerous curiosity. ¡°I¡¯ve always imagined it to be a lot less¡­ how should I say this? Divine, but I understand that it is her work.¡± She coughed a bit. ¡±You seem eager¡­¡± Audrey noted, ¡°Thunder¡¯s commonplace around here. Were you under a rock?¡± Audrey quietly read the newspaper she snatched on the station, reading it intently with the curiosity of a baby. A new article caught her eye, its title printed in all-black boldface.
Parliament response enrages diplomats, talks of a final solution rumoured! Following up on the disastrous summit at Freeport last week, Prime Minister of Mafacy Terence Falkner has submitted an apology to the diplomat, expressing deep sorrow for the behaviour of the unruly politicians. However, National Party members have accused Falkner of being a "heretic of Morendox". Current MP of Peridia, Solace von Marteau VI, has noted on the matter, stating "Once all options are exhausted on a question, we must solve it with our final solution." Only time will tell what will happen next, and what Rodinia''s response to this will be.
Audrey scoffed at the article. It seemed she had picked up a geopolitical newspaper, and judging from its contents, it was Mafacian. She put the newspaper into her courier bag. But, she felt like someone was staring at her. It brought an uncomfortable feeling inside her. ¡±Final solution¡­ Do you know what that meant, friend?¡± Chloe inquired. She glared at the newspaper Audrey held. There was a hint of curiosity in her eyes, yet a slight understanding as well. ¡°The only such thing I know about is the Intervention." Audrey shook her head, ¡±Let¡¯s not dwell on that matter, I¡¯ve got better things to worry about than bickering old men..¡± "Ahem!" A voice sounded out. A tall figure stood towering over the duo, tapping his feet and his pencil with impatience. "Girls. Can I take your order, please. I''ve been standing here for a few moments already, it would be best for you to order what you want." Audrey itched her head, "Who''re you supposed to be, mister?" "I''m uh... a porter, miss. Right now, I¡¯m serving as your waiter as we are short on people who¡¯d do these jobs. My name¡¯s Charlie, pleasure to meet you.¡± "Oh, I see. Then, I would like... something cheap. Like legumes or a sandwich!" "Audrey, this man looks like a dark monster. Is he evil?" Chloe innocently asked, rubbing her hands anxiously. "My brethren told me of these stories of these err.. dark monster who prowl the jungle like savages. Is he one such monster, and if he is I must perform an exorcism!" Audrey simply stared at her with bewilderment, her eyes twitching erratically. "A what... No, no, no." Charlie however, howled wildly, giving the occasional wheeze. "Oh, you''ve never seen people like me?" He laughed, "For a second there, I thought you were racist. No, I''m no monster. I''m a person like you." *** Three gallant stallions galloped gloriously in the view of the moonlight. The cool tropical winds breezed back against the braided hair of those stallions, and also their riders. A trio of men, dressed in the clothes that paddy farmers would wear, slowly ride along the rails; persistent in their pursuit of the perceived object that is their goal. Tonight, the moon herself was clearer than a misty day on a Friday. The leader of the trio, a washed-up veteran named Grant, hunched himself with a deadpan expression near his steed''s head. From time to time, he would lapse in and out of consciousness, snoring like a blast furnace, and sometimes he would fall towards the dirt road below. His companions were also just as strange as he was. A young man named Louis who had black hair, a light complexion, and an anserine way of life, and Maury, a tanned man who looked as if he reached the ripe old age... of 40. THUD! "Boss just fell off his horse again." Louis mumbled, shaking his head. He slowed down his steed to a halt. ¡°Maury, can you slow down? " ¡±Hold on a minute, Jess is acting up again.¡± Maury responded. If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡±Maury.¡± Louis inquired, ¡°You think that Grant bought more of that stuff from that shady dude? He seems to be addicted or something.¡± ¡±Think so, Louie.¡± Maury poignantly answered. ¡°Liquor isn¡¯t my sort of thing, and I know what happens to people when they drink it. That man he talked to, doesn¡¯t he feel off? He said where he was from, and demanded a deal. Plus, it''s like he had unlimited amounts of the stuff.¡± ¡±Wish she would put her foot down with this, Maury.¡± Louis rubbed his forehead, ¡°But, she¡¯s off seducing with Ezratil¡¯s boy¡¯s. If she comes back, gah¡­.¡± ¡±Are you talking behind my daughter¡¯s back, boy!¡± An ominous and clear voice spat out, ¡°Louis, don¡¯t you know how to be polite to someone?!¡± Louis turned around to find Grant¡¯s flushed face glaring intimidatingly at him. ¡±...Boss Grant, didn¡¯t see you there.¡± Louis mumbled. ¡±Boy, you do know that she doesn¡¯t take disrespect lightly, huh.¡± ¡±I¡¯m sorry, I¡¯m sorry.¡± ¡±Hmph, you¡¯re lucky you¡¯re saying that in my presence. Maury, you also have to keep this in mind. You didn¡¯t come out the last one unscathed, and she was like a ferocious monster.¡± Grant shrugged, and laughed loudly. ¡±We¡¯re at the spot they told us to be in right?¡± Grant questioned. ¡°The locomotive should be speeding right towards our location." "...Fuck those guys." Maury itched his head. "Why''d they tell us to this shit, eh. We aren''t some sort of errand boys, we''re a justified brigade of good men!" "They promised good pay, though." Louis retorted, "Think about it. We can use the money to help our own lives! Maybe even others." "Gentlemen, settle down. Regardless, we must just perform this job like any other job we do. It''s not like this is going to backfire on us, right. Now, we hav¡ª" A steam locomotive came speeding forwards, and Maury and Louis took their chance to leap onto one of the cars. ¡±Boss Grant!¡± The duo cried out, ¡°You alright?¡± The duo carefully and worriedly headed towards the coal car Grant fell in. ¡±I¡¯m alright, boys!¡± The duo helped their boss back up, and headed towards the car. After which they entered the car and rolled into the scene. Quietly, they make their move and assessed their surroundings¡­ The cargo car was compact and uncomfortable, being stacked with many crates. It was dimly lit, almost dark. The waves of a muffled conversation could be heard, but only a little. "Remember what we''re here for," Grant whispered, "If we don''t find what we''re looking for, we bail." "Right." The duo nodded. CRASH! ¡±Who did that!¡± The boss yelped. "Who the fuck did that! We''ve been compromised!" ¡±Wait, wait, wait! It was an accident! I didn¡¯t see that!¡± Louis''s voice echoed. "Hey, is someone inside the cargo car?" A muffled voice spoke. "Did a coon snuck itself there? Someone go and look!" The door handle rocked up and down wildly, and a beam of light suddenly appeared out of thin air. The trio rolled into a spot behind a crate, before a person stepped in. He was an elderly and senior looking man, dressed in railway porter standard. The porter scanned around the car, finding a smashed vase¡¯s ruins on the floor. "Stowaways, I smell it." He shouted. "Show yourselves! I know ¡®yer there, come on out!¡± ¡±What do we do, boss?¡± Louis whispered. The porter unsheathed his sword, a Eirasoan longsword, and seemed to be forged with white steel, with a surprisingly well-mannered stance. He swung up the sword slightly, a smug grin on his obscenely white teeth. It seemed that a fight was what he wished for. Louis and Maury The boss cracked his knuckles, then his neck, and loosened up his ligaments. He tipped down his straw hat, and flashed a quiet smile. He leered at him, ¡±Damn, I didn¡¯t know they taught niggers how to wield a sword,¡± He spat towards the porter¡¯s boot. ¡°Well then¡­ let¡¯s see if you know how to fool around like a genius, I¡¯m not going to lose to you.¡± Grant unsheathed the sword he held from his back. The sword was a dull-looking, grey broadsword. Yet, the blood of thousands dripped from it.. ¡±Sobered up, you hick?¡± The porter mumbled, ¡°I can tell you¡¯ve drunk something, perhaps a brandy or gin. I think that you¡¯ve got some ulterior motive on your hand, you''re gonna round up all of us and send us back, huh?¡± ¡±Why would I care about that. I¡¯ve not got no qualms against you, but you¡¯re standing in my way, nigger. Don¡¯t make me say that twice now, I¡¯ve got a trigger finger.¡± Grant then leapt forward, and swung his sword towards the porter. Though, he calmly deflected the attack and retorted back with his own. Grant began an orderly stepping back, and tried looking for a flaw in the stance, but could not. The porter was an agile one, and well-coordinated with his attacks. He quickly sauntered to Grant''s back and attempted to slice his back. At the nick of time, Grant rolled backwards and attempted to assess the situation. It was not looking good for him, and it may as well be over for him. Suddenly, he felt something tugging on his clothes. He checked his shirt, but nothing was to be seen. Taking the opportunity, the porter swung his sword, which Grant tried to dodge but slipped onto the ground. Exposed on every part, Grant was now at the mercy of his attacker. With a callous hand, the porter prepared the finishing blow. Grant inched slowly, trying to get away. "Shit..." ¡±Now then, time to teach you a lesson.¡± The porter snapped, ¡°That you¡¯ll never step foot ever again on ground ever again. Heh, laughable, ¡®cause you¡¯ll be a ghost now!¡± ¡¯Shit, I think we¡¯ll have to call off the mission.¡¯ Grant worriedly thought, ¡®I can¡¯t die here now, I¡¯ve already wasted one of my lives already, don¡¯t tell me it¡¯s actually over for me!¡¯ The porter leapt forwards, aiming his sword towards the belly of his fallen opponent. But then suddenly, Louis and Maury leapt up from their hiding places and drew out their revolvers at the porter. They fired directly towards the porter¡¯s torso, in which the porter immediately collapsed to the ground. When he did collapse, a soft thud came about, and then a pool of blood slowly flowed on the wooden floor. The porter mumbled a curse towards the trio, before his eyes wisped away like so. ¡±Maury!! Louis!!¡± Grant snapped, ¡°burp¡­ What the hell are you boys doing! I was going to¡ª fucking kill him. What the hell!!¡± Louis and Maury glanced at their boss. His face looked a lot more relieved, however relapsed into a flush. Maury then moved away from the group and towards the porter¡¯s cadaver. ¡±Sometimes, you shouldn¡¯t be fighting when you ain¡¯t sober.¡± Louis hissed, retracting his revolver into its holster. ¡°We both knew you weren¡¯t going to live that one with our intervention.¡± ¡±Nicely said, Louie.¡± Maury nodded, as he inspected the porter¡¯s cadaver for something of value. He then stood up and took the porter¡¯s sword. ¡°What do you reckon is the price of this sword going to be? I appraise it to be about a thousand braquid.¡± Grant facepalmed, shaking his head at them. ¡±Well, we¡¯ve got to clean up the site now.¡± Grant grumbled. ¡°Quick now, before someone else enters the room.¡± ¡±Louis, come and help me here.¡± Maury whispered as he pulled the body towards a room. Louis fidgeted around for a moment, then looked towards his hands with a blank stare before fainting suddenly. Maury sighed, ¡±Understandable.¡± Bonus 1: Interrogation ¡±Matt Porter¡­ This is what they call you, right?¡± A sullen old woman spoke out. ¡°Very smart name, indeed, after all. It''s what I can expect from Ed''s nephew.¡± ¡±Sure, if that¡¯s what you wanna call me.¡± Matt sighed. ¡°Listen, if you would please get this over with a lot more quickly. I¡¯d be very grateful. I¡¯ve got a lot of things I want to settle with after this.¡± Matt twiddled fingers, counterclockwise. Later, he popped his joints. ¡±...Yeah, I¡¯d love to. Though, this thing is kind of time consuming. Sorry for the inconvenience, Matt.¡± The woman placed a file onto the table. Said file was quite wide, looking like a dictionary of two languages combined. Matt continued to stay silent, as he stared somewhere else. ¡±So, let¡¯s go on with a list of your achievements,¡± The woman continued. ¡°At age seven, you were caught stealing¡­ a Yoshinato-style ice cream from a local convenience store near your home in Inner City. The judge sentenced you to 2 days of juvenile detention.¡± ¡±Yes, that seems about right.¡± ¡±Tell me, something Matt. What flavor was the ice cream you tried stealing?¡± ¡±...It¡¯s a bit hazy in my memory, but I guess it was butterscotch. It is my favorite flavor.¡± If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. ¡¯Butterscotch¡­ You really like destroying your teeth don¡¯t you?¡± Matt nodded, slouching against the seat. He took a quick glance towards the ceiling, only for a moment to take a break from eye contact. The old woman¡¯s stare was bold, and pressuring. They began to tie a violet ribbon internally, against his beating muscle. ¡±Anywho, a few months after being released. You became a witness in a very serious case. The murder of the Stykke socialite, Maude Fowler. You were quickly removed though, by the talented attorney, Nicolas White.¡± ¡±Right, I remember it fondly¡­ Don¡¯t know why¡¯d they think I did it though.¡± ¡±Right, and then at age nine, you were caught assaulting your classmate, Ronnie Tyne. Lucky that she survived those blows. Guess you took it seriously when boys fight over girls.¡± ¡±No, I am not interested in that kinda thing.¡± ¡±...I want you to know this, Matt Porter. Trouble follows you everywhere, and it¡¯s all because of butterstot¡ª I mean, butterscotch ice cream. Boy, you really have some weird connections.¡± ¡±...Is that all?¡± ¡±Well, if you count the accidental arson of the port, being caught in a drug deal, and another theft at the same convenience store, all at the age of eleven¡­ No.¡± The woman coughed like a sleeping volcano. It felt¡­ awkward, due in part to the humming of the conditioners. It sent a chill to his spine, literally and verbally. Matt twiddled his fingers some more, and fixed his slouching stance. He''d rather stay coddled for a while. ¡±Now, you¡¯re a prime suspect of a murder case¡­ just like in the past, yes. I don¡¯t think they¡¯ll let you go this time, due in part to the long list of offences and the footage that they¡¯ve captured. They¡¯ll probably send you to juvenile detention for a minimum of four years.¡± ¡±...¡± ¡±I wish you the best, regarding this.¡± Bouns 2: Joyride For many, a vacation represent something magical; something people that desire but are left empty with their gluttonous and tired stressed minds. Maybe even perfect for running away from all the problems that reality plagues like leprosy in the workplace. To Otto, its one of the best times that he has to do whatever he wanted to. Even the preparation phase was fun, planning, packing, and enjoying the days roll by; These were things that Otto looked forward, and always had his dedicated diligence. But currently, that was not the case. He slewed against the recliners of the dodgy minivan, and confusingly pondered as he watched the dry desert landscape pass by, ''Why on earth has it gone this way...'' Then, he abruptly recoiled and his cheeks turned a disgusting green. But as Otto struggled to hold everything in, his seatmate looked on with seemingly indifferent gray eyes. His face was obscured by the hoodie he wore, save for the chin and some locks of pale brown hair hanging greasily. He took off one of the earphones for his Walkman, and leant towards his friend. ¡°Hey, you okay?¡± said Matt. ¡°...Yep, I¡¯ve never been bett¡ª¡± Otto replied as his throat recoiled. ¡°S-sorry, to tell you the truth, I lied.¡± ¡°Really? That''s all?¡± Matt shrugged and sighed. He bent himself forwards and brandished a plastic bag. ¡°Here, let it all out.¡± He quickly snatched the bag. Then, his body trembled as he struggled to let it all out, only slightly being helped by the pleasuring rhythmic patting on the back. But, it didn¡¯t really help all that much. Then ¡°That¡¯s it.¡± ¡°Ugh¡­ Hey, Matt.¡± ¡°Is something else bothering you?¡± Matt grumbled. ¡°...Clueless as always,¡± Otto spat. He tied the plastic bag, paused for a moment to look at the disgusting body fluid. Then he frowned. ¡°You haven¡¯t forgotten ha-haven¡¯t you?¡° Matt yawned, ¡°Yeah, yeah¡­ But, that''s your fault.¡± ¡°But you forgot to bring my stuff!¡± ¡°So? Last night drained me way more than it should¡¯ve,¡± Matt tiredly refuted, ¡°Don''t put the blame on me pal, I was exhausted. Both of us. Seriously, you can¡¯t depend on exhausted people like me for that!¡± He turned against the window and put his Walkman on. ¡°Maybe, but still¡­ I was hoping you¡¯d do it!¡± While they continued to bicker, Rowan, the driver, continued his duty in bliss. It had been a week since he returned from the business trip, which was in itself a rather fulfilling one. Now that he was driving once more, on the very road he began his career, only a feeling of nostalgia crept in his mind. Driving the minivan, which felt like he was driving on butter, reminded him of the old girl he had traveled with so, so dearly. Rowan glanced towards the rearview mirror. That young man, he wasn¡¯t the same person he used to be, ever since then. His mother would¡¯ve knocked some sense into him, but¡­ she was not here¡­ at least not yet. The driver frowned, and tried shaking off these thoughts. He turned the radio knob to something more happy. He sighed quietly, ¡°What am I going to do Sophie¡­¡± As his thoughts dwelled deeper and deeper in his consciousness, he was almost to the point of daydreaming. Yet, something¡­ Brought him back to his senses. A disembodied sound filled the car. It was loud, and it brought forth an eerie sort of feeling within. The feeling called being annoyed. Rowan grimaced and crunched teeth, but he earnestly kept a stiff upper lip. After the beeps ended, followed a feminine voice with a dodgy British accent, ¡®Fuel is below the amount necessary, please head to the nearest gas station. Approximately 41 kilometers away, and¡­ will take approximately 21 minutes to travel to.¡¯ Despite this, the bars remained static in equilibrium and have not lowered. And by static, one of the bars was flickering once, twice¡­ thrice. It was strange, but not something that Rowan ever found difficult. He tapped on the glass, and sure enough¡­ It stopped. Now, all that he could hope for was that it could keep moving forward. "Even then, I would''ve wanted you to bring my stuff!" ¡°Stop giving excuses, man." Matt sighed disappointedly. "You''re responsible right? Then you should''ve done it?¡± "I am, but¡ª" "But, what? You were the one who was excited. You even hitched a hike with us, just to head to where we were going. And all because you missed your train." Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. Otto fell silent, and sluggishly tried to voice a single thought. Though, all that came out was some mumble, in a tone he''d hate using. Gravely and contrived. ¡°...Fine. You w-win this round, Porter.¡± *** It was the fine time of noon. In an isolated part of the highway, there lay a small rest stop. Consisting of a gas station, an expressmart, and a derelict building. A man of stature, Dominic Barca ran the place. Currently, he was busy brushing the floors of their dust. He would¡¯ve bought a vacuum cleaner, but shipping was expensive around these parts. Why would he bother with those punks on the coast with their fruits of progress? All lies I tell you. A thud struck. He sighed, ¡°Are you still there Marie?" A young woman perked her head from a shelf corner. She was dressed in a uniform that highly suggested that she was working at a certain establishment, in which beauty was meant to be conveyed. Her eyebags, easily relaxed stance, and frizzy black hair say otherwise. She thought it wise to be perk when she heard her name, and yet the pressure emanating from his eyes never seemed to fade. A desire to look away crept against her back. ¡°Yes.¡± She groaned. Stack upon stacks upon stacks of sacks lay vertically inside the expressmart. They all carried the same payload, salt. Dominic stared at them, and sighed, continuing his rather monotonous store spring clean. It was quiet, save for the rumbles that the appliances would let out and fan on the top and Marie¡¯s what¡¯s it called¡­ taste in culture. He stroked his chin, and felt the fine stubble he had. Rest assured, Dominic thought, never had there been anything to disturb this peaceful gas station. It was modest, it was isolated, and it was his only source of income.. ¡°One more thing,¡± He spoke, catching Marie off guard as she walked away. ¡°Why are you still here? George is about to come soon. You know overwork is a horrible thing, ¡®specially in this part of the damn country.¡± ¡°You can¡¯t trust George! The guy is always screwing things over, and he, he is a dumbass.¡± The shopkeeper brandished some green paper in front of her, then rasped. ¡°Is it ¡®cause you didn¡¯t meet your quota last Saturday? I¡¯m willing to overlook that, you know.¡± Marie mumbled, looking unimpressed, ¡°I only wanted to help¡­¡± She paused, and took a moment to stare at her superior. ¡°Well if you wanna help with stuff, ¡®ere you go.¡± ¡°What¡¯s this supposed to be?¡± Marie asked, perplexed at what the old shopkeeper had given her. ¡°I want you to head to Paul¡¯s. Tell him that I want another shipment of everything in that piece of¡­ paper.¡± ¡°Paul? Oh you mean¡­ the hillbilly guy with that thing.¡± ¡°Marie. You can rest after you¡¯ve given that to Paul. He¡¯s reliable, you know so don¡¯t try to help him.¡± Emotion broiled up inside the pot. It steamed up on her usually tired rosy face, and tensed her glabella. It had been a while since she had loosened up, and it really had to. Even if she d ¡°Got it. See you.¡± ''That geezer oughta'' know that I''m dependable.'' She thought, as she inserted a note into the vending machine''s slip. ''He didn¡¯t even give enough cash to buy this shipment. Ugh, how does he even run the place?¡¯ As she pondered intrusively in her mind, a car began to roll into the parking lot. It was pathetic in appearance, and its coat was an ugly gray, the kind you''d see at a dealership in the big city. She turned around once she had gotten a cool can of cola. ¡°Heyo, Marie! Nice seeing you in this lovely morning.¡± The man greeted, reeking of sweat. ¡°It¡¯s noon, George.¡± Marie groaned, ¡°I didn¡¯t expect you to come this early.¡± George shrugged, ¡°I¡¯ve got a lot of time off my hands. Mom¡¯s busy working at the Riviera, and Pierre¡¯s taken over my shift there. Well, that¡¯s what he gets for losing on poker to me!¡± Marie rolled her eyes. ¡®This pest¡­¡¯ ¡°Hey, wait a second I just remembered something.¡± ¡°What is it¡­¡± Marie sighed. She then mounted on her motorcycle, tying her long, grizzly hair into a bun. ¡°Keep it short, I need to go. Soon.¡± ¡°The Riviera. You know they¡¯re celebrating their sixty-fourth anniversary right?¡± George enthusiastically said. ¡°Yeah. Nellie told me on the phone earlier.¡± ¡°Nellie?¡± George exclaimed. ¡°Oh, so you know. I thought you didn¡¯t.¡± ¡°Well, I¡¯m not planning on attending. I¡¯ve got to do stuff.¡± Marie shrugged, ¡°If I did well, I¡¯d stick out like a sore thumb and ruin everyone¡¯s night. Now if you¡¯ll excuse me, I need to go. See ya¡¯ pest.¡± ¡°Wait, wait, wait!¡± It was too late, the bird had flown away on her motorbike. ¡°Dammit, I wanted her to know that there¡¯s going to be stir fry¡­¡± The middle aged shopkeep sauntered outside of the dark store, and immediately the light brilliantly shone on his eyes. Other than that, the arid breeze lightly flowed. George glanced towards him, and waved, shining an insincere grin. ¡°Hey, boss? Is there any way to describe this feeling?¡± ¡°No, not really. You¡¯re too in her face, I suppose.¡± Dominic greeted, ¡°Snap out of it will ya? Remember what you¡¯re here for, George. You and I are going to make te most of our day, and I want it to be a fine day!¡± ¡°Are you serious?¡± ¡°That¡¯s what me old dad used to say, te bastard.¡± ¡°I thought you said that you never had one?¡± George stood for a moment, looking disappointed, then went into the store, ¡°Sure what keeps you up at night.¡± Dominic¡¯s eagle eyes glanced up towards the top of the canopy of the gas station. Specks of white paint dotted around the steel, given that it was an ancient heap of junk that had been left to mummify. He grumbled for a moment, and stood as silent as the cactus. But before he could ponder some more, a rumbling set of piston explosions slowly began to surge. The shopkeeper stood up from his chair, fixed his polo''s collar, and adjusted his cheap sunglasses. He also sprayed some eau de parfum on himself. Then, he coughed. ¡°Time to put the old business look on once more.¡± Bonus 3: The Pitstop The origin of those sounds, a minivan, slowly rolled along the asphalt, Dominic felt something in his soul hurt. His ears wincing against the sounds, and the fumes of the exhaust getting into his eyes. Models of cars like this are hallmarks of the previous century, and even though this model was new, deep down it was still a lemon. "My god, what a travesty..." He slipped off the tongue. He observed quietly, quenching his thirst with some water nearby. Two, no¡­ wait, three people were inside. The driver was a man who looked like a redneck, and the other two were some young people, around the same age as George and Marie. The one with the glasses looked like a wreck, and terribly suspicious. And he almost missed him, but there was one other guy who looked dead. They stopped right next to the dispenser. It was time to begin my approach, he thought. He swayed confidently, posture was straight, and his business look plastered nicely¡ª a sign of hospitality in these parts of the state. Dominic smiled, and began to put on his business look: Which consisted of a sincere smile openly admitting to tax ev¡ª I mean, hospitality, and a penchant for talking. Then, the driver of the seat stepped out of his car. Here¡¯s my chance! "Hey ho, long way you''ve traveled and to think you''re the first to arrive at this here gas station today." Dominic clasped and rubbed his hands together. ¡°Good afternoon, pal. I umm¡­ just need a ¡°Now, let¡¯s start things off. Your car is a pile of metal that reeks of lemon.¡± ¡°Huh, where¡¯d that come from.¡± The redneck guy said monotonously. ¡°That¡¯s not important. Your car¡¯s a lemon, and if you¡¯re deciding to head on the highway. People will take this sad car as an insult.¡± ¡°Hey! Don¡¯t insult my car. Sure it¡¯s a lemon, but this lemon has never failed me, save for the time my little girl decided to have a joyride. And that sharp tongue of you¡ª¡± ¡°Now there, hold your words for one juicy moment!¡± Dominic yelped, as he took out a notepad. ¡°If you are terribly in need of service repairing somethin¡¯... That¡¯ll cost you a few. But, if that¡¯s not what you want; Do you need diesel, special, standard, or perhaps a good concoction of mine.¡± ¡°What might that be called?¡± The redneck guy said now interested. And with a smug look on his face, he said, ¡°Frontrunner fuel.¡± ¡°...Ok, but that¡¯s not what we need.¡± The man then coughed a plume of smoke, ¡°I need my ice repaired. And given that I also have no more fuel left, maybe I can take a pint of that frontrunner shit¡­ Why did you name it like that?¡± ¡°Ice? What¡­¡± A stuttering voice screeched. Dominic stepped back a bit. ¡°Oh, I meant the engine.¡± *** I took this moment to drag a passive Matt out of the car, and crept away from the two men. They began to talk about nonsense, as if they were in a pub drunk watching the next game. I could not afford to associate myself with those kinds of people. Then, a tight sensation began to wrap around my arm. It was Matt. "I get that you want me to come with you, but do you really have to drag me by the hood? It''s going to break." "...Apologies.¡± ¡°Well, it¡¯s not like it would really matter anyways.¡± Matt dusted himself, ¡°Let¡¯s just enter the shop. I¡¯ve got a limited budget, so just tell me what you want.¡± ¡°Are you sure you want to do it like that? I mean you work very hard to earn that money. These days, it''s hard to come by.¡± ¡°I know. So make it cheap. That¡¯s what I sa¡ª¡± Matt suddenly slammed against the glass doors. He stuck himself there for a moment, but then slowly slid down to the ground¡­ And to top it all off, the doors suddenly slid open: The creak similar to maniacal laughter. It was the kind of thing to see from a classic slapstick cartoon. Even I, someone who prefers having a stoic face, almost laughed at the prospect. Still, the doormat didn¡¯t look too amused. ¡°Matt! Are you okay?¡± The concern leaked out of my mouth. ¡°You didn¡¯t get a concussion, yes?¡± Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡± Matt grunted, ¡°Sensors hardly ever work when I¡¯m in the way. Do you think I¡¯m a ghost or something?¡± ¡°Matt. We¡¯re in the middle of nowhere. There¡¯s no way that the sensor hasn¡¯t been properly maintained¡­ Also, paranormality is something you lack, even you are a very ¡± ¡°Right, let¡¯s get in.¡± So we headed in. ¡°Welcome to the Pitstop, where we believe customer is first¡­¡± You would not believe how much I restrained myself from looking disgusted at the shop. The store was¡­ elegantly arranged in my politest tone. It had the display racks nicely packed with commercial commodities, but the first question I asked myself was why in the hell were there a stack of sacks in there. Surely they must know that hygiene inspectors would have closed this down within a few days of business! The clerk, I wanted to know who hired him (It seemed to be that weirdo with the driver out there), was shirtless and reading a men¡¯s magazine. He had bold blond hair combed into a surfer¡¯s hairstyle. For some strange reason, sniffles and some hiccups were coming out of the man. The state of this day and age. I wondered what had gone wrong. ¡°Why¡¯re you staring at me, guy?¡± The clerk noticed. He set the magazine down, and stood up. ¡°Where¡¯s your shirt? Shouldn¡¯t you be wearing one?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t need it, guy. Do you need something regarding your service? I have experience serving as customer service.¡± The clerk simply said. ¡°The name¡¯s George, by the way and let¡¯s begin. What are your problems?¡± ¡°Experience in customer service?¡± I yelped, confused as to what this imbecile meant. ¡°What do you mean customer service? I was just¡ª¡± I then paused. Realizing what I have ¡°Oh, I know. You¡¯re a failure. A failure at life.¡± ¡°What?!¡± ¡°Somewhere down the line, you must¡¯ve done something horrible.¡± George exclaimed, ¡°And you¡¯ve regretted it for a while. You feel as though you¡¯ve failed at life. I think that¡¯s why you have a problem with me not wearing a shirt.¡± When that improper imbecile uttered those wars "Look, if you want to score. You gotta make sure you can aim really well. This applies to any situation, and you have to make your call." George just simply stated. He then stood up from his seat and approached me at "...What does that have anything to do with me?" I then retorted with . "Look, I just, just came here for a typical winter expedition, not a therapy session!¡± ¡°I haven¡¯t seen any city-dwellers for a while. It¡¯s good to spark up some chats around.¡± ¡°And you think that¡¯s the correct time? How far has this convo gone, you¡¯re still not wearing a shirt and please silence yourself!¡± George however, this guy was an endless stream of words. He just kept talking; he would not dare to shut his damn mouth. Leaves a bad aftertaste, indicative of some kind of mental disturbance. Who would even like this guy? My classmate Fenn would rivet and tell him to stop, and she¡¯s the best gossiper in the school. Refusing to wear a shirt, the shop violates so many safety regulations. He seemed to sniffle and wail the more he began to talk. So many questions ran up my mind that I felt like releasing my stress-locked fist onto something. That guy was perfect. But then¡­ ¡°Heyo. That¡¯s pretty good advice.¡± Matt suddenly spoke and showed up with minimum supplies. My nerves calmed down a bit, but my anxiety remained, which resulted in some awkward silence, which my body took as a sign to blush. Playing a joke at this moment¡­ It¡¯s no wonder I like to take myself in a serious cadence. But then Matt decided to play a little joke, settling us down. ¡°Now if only I could do that with my career. How much is everything going to cost?¡± I showed a thumbs up, but Matt just stayed silent. That look in the moment I took my sight toward him, it was hard to know. His long locks were blocking his eyes, but I could¡¯ve sworn I saw something genuine about it. ¡°That¡¯ll be fifteen dollars and twenty cents. Thank you very much.¡± George said. ¡°Good riddance, and wear a shirt!¡± ¡°...¡± *** Walking back to the car felt longer than it should¡¯ve. ¡°Wasn¡¯t that guy a pain in the glutes?¡± Otto came up to me. He looked a lot worse than in the car, and it seemed like it had something to do with verbal torture. ¡°He wouldn¡¯t stop talking, You heard it right?¡± ¡°I think I did, or did I?¡± I answered back. ¡°Just ignore him, we won¡¯t see him again anyways.¡± ¡­But it did not really matter whether or not I talked. This is just an extra measure for people who¡¯re not used to the country. I shifted my gaze towards my bag of groceries; Two cans of ginger ale, a packed meal of steamed veggies, coleslaw, and pork slabs, a pack of cigarettes for Dad, a postcard that read: Caibo, the Riviera in the South Nodeka. Fifteen dollars for this was reasonable but my wallet cried. Weakling. There are things I want to clear my mind of. Especially slipping in front of Otto of all people¡­ I should probably call her, but she¡¯s probably busy doing stuff right now at camp. Thinking isn¡¯t good. So we continued walking back to my dad¡¯s car. They were still arguing, and I smirked. Dad always loved to talk about cars, and liked this one since Mom bought it for him for their wedding anniversary. ¡°So Otto, how¡¯s everything so far?¡± ¡°I¡¯m not sure about this¡­¡± He talked slowly. Oh boy, this means that he really did not like this. ¡°Why did you have to invite me to your vacation?¡± ¡°You were excited when I asked you, though Otto." Otto began to rant about the problems that he faced, and so on and on. He definitely tried his best to sound polite. His very best. Well, I just hope that he calms down and enjoys this. We only have a few kilometers left until we get to the Caibo Sea. He will love it. And maybe I will too.