Curse of the Red Evil
Page 18
No, she said to herself. She wasn’t going to give up so easily. She gathered herself one more time. It was important that she said the right words. The members couldn’t lose faith in her or suspect that she had lost the ruby. She needed their full support if her plan was to succeed.
As she entered the room, she heard some of the assistants whispering. “I mean, I know we’re an organization and not a cult, but this all seems very culty. What’s with the big painting and the candles? It’s like they’re being creepy on purpose. What’s the difference between a cult and an organization, anyway?”
“Accountability,” whispered Persephone in their ears.
They immediately froze. As she made her way to the front of the area, the murmur quieted down and eventually became complete silence.
Persephone stepped on a small, improvised podium. Behind it was an altar with a large, dimly lit painting of a red, colossal, shapeless monster, its countless tentacles rising high in the sky, threatening to swallow up the world. The weak light of the candles gave it an ominous presence.
“The Starosta organization has existed for centuries,” began Persephone. The orderlies looked at her with a mixture of curiosity and fear. “From the shadows, we’ve fought and won against the biggest villains known to man. Our task is simple: keep the world safe through eliminating evil wherever we might find it. Now, we have found Māra’s next source—and this person lives on the grounds of this hospital. You all know who I am talking about.”
There was muttering in the room. The members were well aware of the situation.
“It is of the utmost importance”—Persephone’s voice rose over the noise—“that we bring the patient under our custody.” Again, the crowd rumbled, this time louder and in agreement with what Miss Dimitriou was saying. “Our… brave leader, Angela Starosta, has entrusted us with the task of purging this place, and we will not fail her. The world is in grave danger. The full potential of the threat Cayden Starosta poses is yet to be uncovered. This time, we’re in a unique position—we’ve caught him before he’s become too powerful. We can stop him and prevent the deaths of millions. But we must act swiftly and stealthily. The secrecy of our operations is vital. The world is not ready to find out about us—they wouldn’t understand. Someday, we’ll step into the light, but until that day, we’re to be the world’s silent protectors, watching from the shadows, guarding this realm from any threat.”
The faces in the crowd were now watching her with awe and inspiration instead of fear. Good. If she could make them fear her, it meant they wouldn’t betray her—but if she made them admire her, they would follow her into hell. And that was where they were heading.
She stepped aside and looked at the picture of the giant red monster behind her. The room fell silent as they gazed at the image. Persephone fell to her knees, and the rest of the organization’s members followed. She began chanting a simple mantra: “Māra… Māra… Māra…” The room started chanting with her in a low, monotone voice.
As Persephone repeated the mantra over and over again, memories of her past flooded her mind. She had lived for many years—her life had lasted for exactly seven hundred and ninety-nine years.
Persephone Dimitriou had been born in the year 1200 in what, back then, was known as Volga Bulgaria. One day, a prophetic vision came to her. She dreamed of a giant red monster rising over the earth, its tentacles hiding the sun. This dream came to her every night until a great tragedy befell her village. In the year 1223, Genghis Khan’s armies invaded Volga Bulgaria, killing and pillaging what they could. They massacred Persephone’s family. Guided by her dream, she knew what she had to do. For four long, trying years, she trained, and eventually she travelled to the heart of the Mongol Empire with one goal: to find and kill Genghis Khan. She hid in a forest and waited until he went onto one of his hunting trips. She attacked him, knocking him off his horse. The injury he sustained from the fall led to his death.
Persephone had achieved her task, but she didn’t feel she had done enough. Even though she had killed this great villain, there was still evil in the world. Wars were still being fought, and innocent people were being killed. She wanted to make sure that no one ever had to experience the pain and anguish she had experienced at the hands of these evil men. That was when she had found the Starosta organization—although, at the time, it had been more of a cult. She joined them and was granted a ruby by the leaders, the Starosta family. It was a blessing and a curse. It gave her incredible powers and ensured that she could go on and defeat evil wherever she found it. The price she paid was that she could never, ever age, nor die, not until she was released from its powers. The longer it was in her possession, the more she felt her humanity slip away. With each passing day, she became colder. Persephone began flirting with death, almost tempted by the thought. Nevertheless, she carried on, hunting and killing villains, never feeling that her work was done.
After her first mission, she kept receiving the signs of providence. In fact, she was already accustomed to these phenomena coming at important times in her life, showing her the way forward. Each task was given to her by the heavens, along with an incomparable flow of power. It was as if divine providence was prompting her to follow the path it had determined for her. In her long career, she dealt with great villains. Hitler, Stalin, and Mao Zhe Dung were some of the most powerful criminals she managed to take down, albeit sometimes by the skin of her teeth. Stalin's brain hemorrhage, Mao's infarcts (the difficulty of causing amyotrophic lateral sclerosis in someone had almost made her give up)—all of it was her doing. Unfortunately, she got to them after they had damaged the world irreversibly.
Now, after years of silence, the providence had given her a new sign that Māra was coming again. It was here, in “Mercy” Hospital, and Its name was Cayden Starosta—Angela Starosta’s little brother. His arrival at the psychiatric hospital had been preceded by storm clouds, which to this day hung over the hospital.
Persephone had served the Starosta family loyally for almost eight hundred years. She had known Cayden and Angela ever since they were little. She had always hoped that the boy was going to take over the organization from his father—his sister was far too spoiled and irresponsible to be in charge. Moreover, she had felt warmth toward him, a feeling she had rarely experienced in her long life. Her hopes had been crushed when she’d received the vision. She ignored her feelings, knowing that they would get in the way of her task of eliminating him.
With Cayden compromised and his father weak and senile, Angela had taken the reins. Persephone was afraid she was going to be the downfall of the organization. In all her life, she had never thought about betraying the trust of the Starosta family, but now, with Cayden being pinpointed by the providence as the next embodiment of pure evil and Angela being an incompetent, selfish leader, maybe it was time for Persephone to start doing things her own way. Removing Angela would surely not be a difficult task. Then she could easily take all the power for herself.
A loud noise coming from the hallway interrupted her thoughts. The chanting stopped, and everyone turned their heads toward its source…
***
In The Simmering Cauldron, time had stopped. The regulars drank their beer and played gambling games. At one of the tables, players tossed small, dice-like objects and caught them on the back of their hands. At another table, there was a cross-shaped board consisting of five squares, one in the middle and four adjacent to each face of the central square. A dozen white figurines in the shape of geese and a red figurine that looked like a fox sat on the board.
Cayden, who had gotten bored with waiting for a convenient moment to escape the tavern, was watching the games with interest. They were familiar to him, but he couldn’t remember their names or what the rules were.
“Fancy a game of knucklebones?” asked Charles, who’d spotted his interest.
Cayden gave him a confused look, as he didn’t know what “knucklebones” was. The Rabbit went to a shelf, and from it, he too
k a leather bag. He poured the contents of the bag on the table—the same small, dice-like objects that players were throwing in the air and catching on the back of their hands. Each “die” was colored differently.
“These are the ‘knucklebones,’ which are used to play this game,” Charles said. “We played a lot with you when you were kid. You toss the bones and try to catch as many as possible on the back of your hand.”
“All right, let’s see if I can still play,” Cayden said.
Cayden hoped the game would help him remember those times when he had played the game with Charles.
The different colors of the bones represented specific values. The red knucklebone brought the player who caught it five points; the yellow, three; and the blue, one point. Cayden and Charles took turns throwing. Though the Rabbit’s paws were smaller than Cayden's hands, he played very well and managed to catch two or three bones each round. Cayden struggled to keep even one on the back of his hand. On the rare occasions when he was able to catch one, it rolled from his hand to the table.
“You used to be good at this,” Charles said jokingly. “We used to play every week. You didn’t have a lot of free time. You always had lessons, you know: fencing—you were excellent with the sword—how to govern a kingdom, and the like, but sometimes you skipped them and came to play. When your parents found out what you were doing, they forbade us to approach the palace during your lessons. When you grew up a bit, you got into the habit of sneaking out of your room and coming to the tavern. I remember your first beer... You almost got in a fight with some boar. The Sloth saved you at the last moment.”
“The Sloth was there too?” Cayden asked.
“The Sloth was there from the beginning,” said Charles. “From the very beginning.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“We have many stories of how this world came to be. One of them involves our mysterious friend over there. You see, at the beginning, the earth and the skies were united. They had two children, the sun and the moon. Back then, there weren’t many creatures roaming the lands, but one of them was the Sloth. One day, he wanted to stretch. There wasn’t any space between the earth the and sky for him to do it, so he pushed the heavens with his paws, separating them from the ground. The Sloth grew so big and so large that he put the sky where it is now, forever divorcing it from the earth and creating enough space for all of us to exist. Since the sky wasn’t pressing on the ground anymore, its children, the sun and the moon, started chasing each other. But before they started their perpetual pursuit, they left some stardust on the ground from when they played together, stuck between the earth and the heavens. The Sloth gathered the dust and put it in the night sky, creating the stars.”
“Well, that’s… unusual,” said Cayden. “Explains the extraordinary abilities, though.”
“He’s never denied or confirmed it,” said Charles. The Sloth was smiling at them with his mysterious grin. Cayden stared at him, looking for a telltale sign, but the Sloth’s expression never changed.
Charles and Cayden played a couple of more rounds of knucklebones. Eventually, Cayden gave up. Not only were his memories not coming back, but he was also getting angry he couldn’t catch the bones.
“What about this game?” He pointed at the board with the many white figurines and the single red one.
“Fox and Geese,” Charles said. He put the board on the table and continued, “It’s a game of inequality. The red piece is the fox. Its objective is to catch as many geese as possible. The geese must hem the fox in so that it can’t move, but they can’t capture it.”
Cayden started first, moving the red piece diagonally to the left. Charles moved one of his geese. Cayden quickly grasped the rules—they weren’t difficult—but he was soon surrounded by the geese and lost.
“Let me guess—we used to play this one as well.”
“Yes, and you always wanted to play with the fox,” Charles replied. “But you lost often. Your weakness is that you act quickly without thinking.”
“Yes, clearly,” said Cayden, who was beginning to get angry. “Apparently I wasn’t much good at anything. I’m starting to wander if I really was a king.”
I’ve lost enough for today, he thought. He approached one of the dusty windows and wiped it with his hand. Outside, the sun had begun to set. Anxiety filled his stomach. For a moment, he’d forgotten about escaping from the tavern. Cayden glanced at the door. Soon it would be time to meet their mysterious friend. The pressure on him increased tenfold—run away or stay?
Charles was playing a new game of Fox and Geese with the Sloth. Instead of moving his pieces, the Sloth smiled at him mysteriously, so the Rabbit moved his pieces as well. The two focused on the game and didn’t pay any attention to what was happening in the pub. It was the moment Cayden had been waiting for. An opportunity like this would never come again, he thought. He was going to sneak out, go to the palace, talk with Mira, and gain his memories back. After that, he would find the Rabbit and the Sloth again and maybe try to convince them to give him a more of a consulting role in their operation. You know, planning strategies and that kind of stuff. Away from danger. Yes, Cayden decided. That was exactly what was going to happen.
He moved slowly toward the door, keeping an eye on them. Just a couple of meters separated him from the exit when Charles raised his head and looked around. When he saw Cayden standing paralyzed next to the door, the Rabbit gasped. He jumped out from his chair and approached him.
“Wait… Are you thinking about running away?” he asked. “You can’t! We need you!”
“I don’t care,” said Cayden. “I want to leave.”
“You have to stay here until sunset! If you go outside, the guards will see you and throw you in a dungeon! Again!”
“That would happen sooner or later, anyway. You can go on this suicide mission of yours if you want. I'm leaving.”
Charles stood in front of the door, blocking his exit. “The plan won’t work without you,” he told him.
“Why?” Cayden asked. “Tell me why you need me, and I'll think about staying. What makes me so suitable to dissuade this queen of yours from going to war?”
The Rabbit hesitated for a second. Finally, he surrendered and said, “You and Mira had a... special connection.”
When he’d heard the queen's name, something had awakened in Cayden. A feeling that started from his stomach and spread throughout his body. It felt like love, affection, horror, and everything between them all at the same time. It was the deepest and most profound sensation he had ever felt.
“What was this special connection?” He had already guessed what the answer would be.
Before Charles could explain, the door of the tavern swung open. The Rabbit jumped out of its way at the last second. Bright sunlight entered the dark room. Armed guards, wearing shining armor, entered the inn and formed a semicircle. A mysterious figure in silver armor appeared. Cayden recognized her. It was the rider from Agapea. It was Mira.
“Queen Mira!” someone shouted.
Everyone around Cayden bowed. Those who were unconscious from drinking just fell to the ground. Cayden was the only one left standing upright.
The queen had a beautiful but hard face. Her red hair was tied in a battle braid and only emphasized the anger flashing in her eyes. But the little detail in her image that left him breathless was a small freckle on her left cheek just below her eye. The freckle awakened powerful emotions in him, robbing him of his ability to speak. Memories and images of his past life hit him like a freight train. Time stopped.
***
Party. The wooden floor of the attic creaks with every step. The song “Are you Gonna be my Girl” by The Jets booms from the speakers. Cayden climbs the narrow staircase leading to a small, empty room that’s separated from the party. He wants to escape from the noise and be alone with his thoughts for a moment, drink a beer and smoke a cigarette while gazing at the full moon shining over the rooftops of Sofia. But when he rea
ches the top of the stairs, he sees that someone has already taken his place. A girl with a fiery red hair, moonlight spilling over her, is sitting by the window with a beer in her hand and smoking a cigarette. Cayden doesn’t know what to do or say. He takes a step back, and the floor creaks. The girl turns to him, and their eyes meet. He stays in place. The two of them stare at each other for a few seconds, but it feels like an eternity. He has the feeling he’s known her all his life. Finally, she stretches her hand out, offering him a cigarette. He accepts.
They spend the whole evening together, telling stories and laughing. They watch the sun rise, then say goodbye.
***
Carnival. Agapeans drink wine and dance. The smell of various delicious foods hangs in the air.
For the Feast of the Nine Moons, Cayden is wearing his best attire. He’s meeting Mira for the second time, and his heart is fluttering. He feels embarrassed in the tight clothes he’s wearing, but the maidens at the palace said they highlighted his figure, whatever that meant. He’s anxiously looking around for her—what if she doesn’t come? Or what if he’s waiting at the wrong place? “Near the fountain” isn’t a very accurate description—there are many fountains in the city! Usually people refer to the big fountain in the center of the city square, but who knows, maybe there’s some other, more special fountain, where she’s waiting now, and he isn't there, and if he doesn’t meet her now, maybe he will never see her again; it isn't as if there’s some magical device he can use to connect with her whenever he wants to...
A red color pops up in the crowd. Cayden’s heart stops beating. The color appears again, coming and going. Cayden sees someone's lips. Eyes. Nose. Can it be her? Her eyes?