Unlocked

by Kevin Solomon Missal

  Caspar felt as if everyone was cornering him. Their words and subtle accusations disturbed him. They wanted answers to their questions and so did he. Yet he wasn’t sure as to what he could tell them in order to calm their worries.

  Death didn’t say a word. He never had feelings, but while spending time with Caspar he had come to have some emotions toward the boy. Emotions he didn’t like. He was death. He was cold. He wasn’t warm. Yet, warm emotions flooded within him, like torrents of a turbulent river.

  “I think we have to get to the Prophet before Lucifer does. We’ll go through the portal tomorrow. Death . . .” he murmured as he turned toward him. “We need some assistance.”

  “My powers are getting weak. After Lucifer’s arrival, the order has been shaken and so have I. I won’t be able to create a portal for you.”

  “I – I can,” a voice said as a hand appeared. An entire face full of red spots and oiled, lanky hair materialized. “I – I mean, I am a wizard. I know how to open one.”

  “It’s better to hire a professional, high class warlock than a wizard, who stammers like a girl,” Caspar snapped.

  Ivy’s gaze wavered. “How dare you speak to my friend like that, Caspar? If you are angry, hit your pillow, but don’t try to take it out on my friends!”

  Caspar rolled his eyes in irritation. Balthazar unfolded his wings, trying to neutralize the effect of the harsh wind coming from the open window.

  “All right,” he said and tried to compose himself. His frustration, his awkwardness, his guilt shrugged off his shoulders. “Tomorrow morning, why don’t you try to create a portal? If you are successful in doing so, I will wrap a teddy bear for you and give it to you.”

  “Oh, please, don’t be so sarcastic!” Ivy grunted.

  Caspar glared at her. He marched past Ivy, never looking twice at anyone, except Balthazar, who purposely waved to follow him back.

  “He’s calling me, so you know...Hmmm,” Balthazar spoke with hesitation and hurried after him.

  ***

  Ivy was with Fib in the guest room, trying to see if he knew how to really work a teleportation pentacle, while Death had left to take care of some other work.

  Caspar was ensconced in the shower and Balthazar sat close to the study table. His eyes fell upon the pocket diary Caspar always used to carry in his satchel.

  He never used to open it in front of anyone and Balthazar wasn’t even sure he used it. His lips dried as he opened it. He was wrong about Caspar’s hardly having used the journal. Scribbles in cursive handwriting that weren’t really understandable, were written across the pages. Confused and dramatic writing littered the parchment, as if an artist was trying to put his thoughts into the book itself.

  Pictures of various sigils and pentacles with large diagrams, drawings, etc. were in it. Balthazar, with one eye closed, held a cigar in one hand. With his other hand, he flipped through the pages only to find that it wasn’t Caspar’s personal diary. He’d hoped it would enlighten him to his connection with Manfred’s connection in order to quench his curiousness, but it was showing so much more.

  Demons hadn’t originated from hell and Lucifer wasn’t the one who created them. Not really. He was the one who made them, fashioned them, and gave them brains, but the Old Demons, according to the diary, were from a different dimension, period, and planet altogether. The maker’s name wasn’t written, but Balthazar’s swanky knowledge determined that demons existed only in Hell and Earth now seemed rather shallow. It held more secrets. Demons were from different times and planets.

  What really intrigued the gargoyle was how meticulous the information was displayed upon the soft, rectangular shaped paper. He flipped through more of the pages, engrossed in what he was reading. His claws enveloped the corners of the paper, almost tearing the diary apart.

  He took note of the same procedure to open a portal through time and space, the one Caspar had shown him few days prior. That time, thing had seemed boring.

  He was a gargoyle and indulging himself with the knowledge of that ungodly magic was mere stupidity. Now, the way he perceived things about sorcery vices came back to him and it didn’t look as frail as it looked before. Somehow, it now made sense.

  Why would Caspar want to learn about a pentacle which opens through time and space? Would it help him? He was a tad confused on that matter and tried to shake off the turmoil he was feeling. The procedure wasn’t as complex as the one Caspar had shown him. This one was simple, just a tether of magic here and there and poof! The portal would open, casting colors and humdrums and whistling all over with ferocity and every melody imaginable.

  Caspar was trying to minimize the time taken to open a portal, it seemed. The process written in the diary took about two minutes. TWO MINUTES. It was written with such a hard scribble that Balthazar could clearly make it out.

  Perhaps it wasn’t really preferable to Caspar. He seemed angry. The writing showed his exasperation. He’d tried another process and it worked in one minute. It was reliable, but complex. He was working on a process that could open a portal, in less than one minute so that he could do it in the blink of an eye.

  A

  Long Gentleman

  East Valley High School was an academy located in a red bricked building, hoisting a flag above it, which had different colors and symbols signifying the morals and ethics the school followed. The school had a way with the parents. One visit and they fell in love with it, making them want their sons and daughters to study there.

  In the midst of thousands of students was a tall girl with a long face, curved lips, thin knit brows, and hair slowly falling down that was now was tied into a ponytail. She had mascara on her eyelids and fair skin that made every boy at the academy falling for her. There were crushes and likes for her. Quite a few would display such stalking affection toward her by posting irregular, irritating messages on Facebook and Twitter.

  Vivian Elijah was admired by many, but at the same time was hated by some people. This was mainly by her classmates, girls who’d formed a group against her, humiliating her, and publicly harassing her. In the dorms, she would sometimes feel neglected and alienated.

  The harassment continued. Perhaps it was her great beauty that the other girls envied. She was now certain that it didn’t matter to her, as she had her own group to take care. They liked her just the way she was, beautiful and perfect. She was popular and participated in programs that could increase the remarkableness of the academy.

  One day, she was given a duty to assess freshmen and to show them around school in a huddle. It was then that she’d met a boy named Samuel amongst them whose eyes instantly found hers and he kept looking her from that moment on. Though there were many times that guys looked at her, sometimes even following

  her, this time was different. Samuel’s look was honest, filled with passion, sincerity, and longing.

  She took her time in showing the group around school to the cafeteria, playground, amphitheatre, dorms, common hall, and the curricular hall. At the very end of the trip, Samuel came up to her saying, “I love you.”

  That was uncalled for. Vivian had no idea how to reply. ‘I love you’ were three big words, difficult to speak and hard to respond to. People say it to get laid. Others say it to feel better. Yet with Samuel, it was something completely different. The way he said, he meant every word. They were full of depth and feeling.

  “I know you don’t know me and I don’t know you, but I don’t care,” Samuel began, trying to give a justification to his statement as he stood in front of the group. Everyone was dumbstruck by his sudden nonchalance. “I love you. When I first saw you, I couldn’t keep my eyes off of you and I knew that very second I was meant to be with you. Maybe I am an idiot. No, wait, I am an idiot!” he laughed. “But I don’t care. I am idiot for you. I can be anything you want. At least, for once, just go on a date with me and see what kind of person I am.”

  Like in movies, people would say, “Say yes, girl,” or “Go for it. Give th
e sweet kid a chance.” But this was no movie and no one did care, though they were amused by it. They watched and waited for what would be the girl’s reply on the matter at hand.

  “I am sorry, but I don’t know you.”

  Samuel felt awkward after that and stood at the back of the line. He was the subject of soft giggles and chuckles from all the boys and girls. Though they never said a word, their laughter spoke more than words could say.

  Later on, Vivian would see Samuel, alone in his own small world, scribbling within his diary and then looking at the sky during his lunch break. She wanted to know what thoughts he was penning in his diary.

  She found it cute. No one had ever said ‘I love you’ to her, even though she had been in many past relationships. Expressing his love on the first day was flattering. Samuel wasn’t a stalker, nor was he that desperate to have her.

  Vivian found him later on in the garden sitting under a tree. She came up to him and said, “I am sorry about the first day.”

  Samuel blushed. He was stunned. Her admission had taken him completely by surprise. He had no idea what to say, so he kept shut his mouth and waited.

  “Are you that crazy that you said something on the first day which guys usually say after two years or so?” she asked.

  “You...you are Vivian, right?” He sighed softly. “Do you believe in destiny, Vivian? Because I do. I have seen and have been with many girls, but none of them appealed to me until I saw you. I didn’t know what your nature was like or how your mind worked. I didn’t even look at your face, but in that instant, I just knew that you were the One.

  “You know, the One who is chosen for me, by destiny, by fate. I know you are that One. I just know. Don’t ask me how or why, because I can’t answer those questions. For all I know, you are the One and if you didn’t think that as well, you wouldn’t be here saying you’re sorry. Somehow, you must have felt it, to.”

  For some inexplicable reason, Samuel was right. She did feel it. A rushing current she couldn’t suppress coursed through her and she now knew what she had to do.

  “You want to go on that date, then?”

  Samuel smiled. His smile didn’t look cheap or cunningly spontaneous. It was sweet and nice, as if multiple drums were being played inside his heart.

  They went on a date later that evening. At night, students weren’t allowed to go out, so they made do of the evening in a dim café where low parasols over the tables shadowed the faces of the visitors. Vivian confided everything about herself to Samuel and he, in turn, did the same.

  She was born in Aberdeen. Afterwards, she’d moved to Carthage, where she’d spent most of her life. She was a top notch student in every subject. Upon hearing that, Samuel said he was just the opposite. All his life, he was a jerk and a loser, who would stalk girls whenever he had the chance to. Until one night, everything changed. He’d seen a girl being raped in an alley in downtown New York City. To protect her, he’d fought the rapist and rescued her.

  Though, he was injured by multiple blows of fists and kicks, the police arrived on time. He was delivered to the hospital and stayed there until he’d recuperated. It was a life changing event. He’d realized what he’d been doing all that time and vowed he’d be a better person in the future.

  Talking about likes and dislikes, Samuel and Vivian were quite engrossed with another. Soon, they knew everything about each other. As the evening dwindled and the night rolled in, the beautiful starlight shone above in conjunction to the crescent of the moon. They returned to their hostels and snuck in secretly. The warden of the girl’s dorm, with her harsh torchlight blazing, checked to see if everyone was in their place.

  Vivian expected a kiss to be planted upon her lips before going him, but there wasn’t one. Samuel looked at her and smiled, the very incarnation of cuteness. She wasn’t sure as to why he was smiling, but decided to take the chance to see what

  happened next. She curled a strand of her golden hair about her finger in hopes of giving him the indication that she was ready for a kiss. “Soooo . . .” she said, extending the syllable so he understood what she meant.

  He came close, his hands clasping her hands. They were silky and gentle. He rubbed them against her palms. A tingling sensation crept into her heart. She saw his smooth, curved lips coming toward her, parting slowly and making their way down to her lip. Yet he soon stopped himself.

  Her eyes opened to see his lips hovering inches apart from hers. The intense look he gave her was slightly unsettling. Instead of kissing her, he rubbed the tip of his nose against hers. His every breath sounded like a sigh and made her wonder as to what would happen if he tried to put his lips on hers. To her surprise, he didn’t. With a smile on his face, he let go of her hands. His brown hair fell down onto his forehead and zigzagged across his neck. He didn’t kiss her that night.

  The next morning, she stormed up to him and said, “Why didn’t you kiss me?” She was obviously offended.

  “What?” he sputtered.

  “You were going to do so, but you didn’t, why?” She sounded like a nagging housewife. “Am I not perfect? My lips aren’t good? Do I have a bad breath?” She coughed to see if the last thing was true.

  “Everything about you is perfect, Vivian. That’s the reason I didn’t kiss you. I wanted our first kiss to be perfect, like you. I wanted to see if our being close to each other for five minutes or so, without letting our lips touch, if it would help me to decide whether this is love. I knew, then, it was. On both our parts, but you didn’t kiss me, either. You waited and that was perfect. Come here.”

  She frowned as she sat next to him upon the grass. “I have no idea what you

  mean.”

  “Me too, but that’s what love is, right? When you love a person, you have no idea what he or she means. You just know that the person is saying the right thing to you.”

  She wrapped her arms about her chest as if she were a small, petulant child. “When are you going to kiss me?”

  Samuel reached out and traced the line of her jaw slowly with his fingertips. He leaned forward and planted a small peck upon her upper lip. Their eyes met as he stepped back. A current passed through their bodies. He brought his lips against hers once more, yet this time, it wasn’t just a peck.

  Vivian wasn’t taken by surprise. Her hands clutched at his t-shirt as Samuel’s fingers threaded through her ponytail. Their lips locked. The hot breath, the cool sensation, the galloping of their heartbeats – Vivian could feel it all in every ounce of her body. She knew the moment was perfect, as was the kiss was perfect. The tips of their tongues encircled one another’s as passion flared. Eyelashes fluttered and lips rhythmically allowed the trickle of pleasure into their chests. The emotions overcame them as the heat flowed through their veins.

  “Uh huh!” someone coughed.

  Their lips parted as they were interrupted. Samuel blushed. Vivian rubbed her fingers against her lips. She could still taste him. Her friend, Ariel, hovered nearby as she giggled and at the same time managed to speak.

  “I am sorry to disturb you, but this is public. The teachers don’t really like it.” “We’ll take that into consideration,” Samuel said.

  “Thank you.” Ariel giggled as she walked away.

  Vivian looked at Samuel and smiled. “That was perfect.” Samuel patted her hair to comfort her.

  “And you know what the funny thing in this is?” “What?”

  “I just understood what you said to me,” she quipped and they both laughed.

  ***

  Public displays of affection carried out between Vivian and Samuel were now seen everywhere in East Valley. Many saw them kissing in shadowy corners, or cuddling on the school bench. They’d sneak out at the first opportunity. It was adventurous. Vivian’s life was turned upside-down after Samuel’s appearance and she now found a new meaning in everything.

  It was perhaps around Tuesday when her life took a different turn. The school was empty except for Vivian and the faculty members
, who were currently having a meeting in a closed room.

  She saw a boy, tall and lean with curly hair and eyes hidden behind black rimmed spectacles, which looked geeky as his stubborn expression. His face was long and angular with a beaky nose protruding out of the skull. He wore a long trench coat that reached almost to his knee with low pants, hiking boots, and an uneven muffler, hanging about his neck. He clutched a cane, the knob of which was in the shape of a S.

  He looked both odd and unique. Perhaps it was because of his eccentric dressing style, the whimsy smile, and startling gaze. His talking to himself lent an air of peculiarity about him as if he was talking to some invisible person beside him.

  Vivian had an urge to talk to him. He looked vividly out of place, like an outlaw or an alien. She wanted to follow him, to stalk him and ask him who he is. All the while, her thoughts drifted as she saw the way he walked around aimlessly, holding a parchment in his hand as he mumbled to himself.

  “Need any help?” she asked as she approached the boy.

  Although she was dressed in her uniform, it didn’t look like a uniform. Her shirt was disheveled with buttons opened from the top, long sleeves pulled up at her elbows, and her skirt now hung above her knees, casually displaying her upper thighs. Loose strands of her hair fell on her forehead, which she swept back as she spoke to him.

  “I am trying to find Vivian Elijah,” he said, glancing up at her before turning his attention back to the parchment he was holding.

  “Yes. How can I assist you?”