by Ted L C
“Wait,” his body twitches, fleeing her hand. “Hell is real?”
“Technically no,” a thin line creeps between the girl’s cheeks. She pours purple liquid into a clear glass within Derek’s grip. “Drink—it’s healthy for you. It full of antioxidants”
“What?” his gaze locks on the beverage. The scent of manure circulates within his nostrils. A chill rides along his spine. “What is it?”
“Horse seed.”
Rainy projects the fluid from her lips and burrows a finger into her windpipe.
“Bwaah” Rainy’s voice runs through the empty, dimmed room.
“Joking,” her voice drowns the constant hocking. “A special smoothie I made with a mixture of stem cells, wheatgrass, and other random debris in my kitchen. Trust me, it’ll clear your hangover.”
“Wait—” the taste of cinnamon floods his parched throat. “My dad was just offed.”
“You’re not going to question why I said you have a hangover? Anyway, everyone and everything passes. It’s a natural way of life telling us that our time in this existence is over. There’s no more purpose.
“Your street fighting skills couldn’t have saved the man, who I note, isn’t your father. No matter how hard you tried.”
“He’s not my father?” Rainy and Derek’s clamors send the girl’s ears into a state of continuous rings.
“Are you two stupid or delusional?” she flicks a coaster against the tabletop. An image of an old man having emerald eyes and a woman with jet-black hair materialize as a hologram. “Rick and Paige O’Brien. One a former Chief Executive of Reivescere’s gaming sect. The other, a fashion adviser.
“Neither had any abilities. Neither had any genes which could give either of you what you have. Individuals who have mutations so extreme—to the point where one can conjure water from thin air. And the other, teleportation. How would they get it from parents who have a different genetic makeup?”
“If they weren’t our parents—” Derek jacks his body upward with trembling arms.
“I’m an assassin with abilities, not Terry Fringer,” the girl leans against the wall. “That orbital drop meant for Rick was a trap set by Alexander or Zeresh. To lure the two of you in one place.
“Don’t know why they chose now, but that’s why I showed up. Didn’t want to let them get their mitts on you.”
“Well, there has to be an ulterior reason you came to our rescue,” Rainy’s palm slides across her face, scraping the purple fluid coating her lips. “What sort of game are you playing, then?”
“Name’s Alyssandra. Please call me Alyssa, though. Both of you have immense potential with your abilities, yet the lack of knowledge to use them.
“I’ve met thousands of HESTEKS in the past; some strong, and others were weak. However, they let their greed and lust for power consume them, leading to their downfalls. I want to prevent that, Derek and Rainy. I want to guide you. Afterward, you can choose your path—hopefully in the right direction.”
“You’re an assassin with abilities who sees potential in two gifted individuals,” Rainy rises. Whirlpools the width of tree trunks materializes, encircling both palms. “All I see is that you want us as pawns in a revenge scheme against Zeresh and Alexander. More than likely for something that they did to you.
“I’m not taking any part of this,” she shifts her gaze toward Derek. “Take us somewhere—anywhere else but here.”
“No,” his eyes magnetize toward the dagger living within a sheath embedded on Alyssa’s boot. His face transitions from pale hue to a rose tint.
“No?” Rainy glues her chest against Derek’s as her diminishing retinas barrages his. “I only see that look when you have the hots for a girl. You’re so pathetic. You’d abandon your blood to follow a stranger’s revenge scheme—”
“How do I know that you’re my sister?” his legs spread shoulder-width apart. “How do I know what’s what, anymore? Rainy, my life has no meaning, no fulfillment.
“I hate day jobs. I refuse to go to college and I won’t abide by society’s norms.
“I want a life of my own, a life filled with adventure, learning, growth, and sustenance. If you don’t stick with me through the hard times, I’m not gonna call you blood. Furthermore, I’m tired of you trying to control my life. I own my life—n-not you.”
“Hard times? I don’t consider ‘hard times’ as being sucked into a fantasy journey by a delusional horn dog. I want to go home—back to school.”
“That is ill-advised.” Alyssa waves her index finger. “Think, they found the man you claimed to be your father. Imagine how easy it’d be finding whatever hole you flee to.”
“I don’t care—” Rainy’s hand clenches Derek’s. “Take me to Tomomi’s.”
Both of their bodies vanish into silhouettes of ash.
* * *
“Rain?” the girl within the doorway arcs her chin upward toward the two. Liquid droplets roll off Rainy’s jaw. “What’s up, sweets?”
“C-can I stay with you for a while?” Rainy throws both arms, squeezing the girl’s back. Tomomi’s eyebrows arc and face Derek.
“Hi, Momi,” a closed-lip smirk forms on Derek’s face. She’s so beautiful.
“Of course!” she moves her catlike eyes toward the boy’s blue gaze. “H-hi, Derek.
“He can’t stay, though,” her melodious whisper flows through Rainy’s ear canal.
His sister glues her chest to his upon releasing her grip. “So, Derek—”
The boy’s palm arcs upward, parallel from his forehead and into the air. With a graceful motion, it descends.
“I love you De—”
Disappearing, the wind carries Derek’s ashes through the stairwell.
“What just happen?” Tomomi’s voice dribbles amidst the towering walls of the apartment complex.
“There’s something I need to talk to you about, lover,” Rainy’s fingers weave with Momi’s. They make their way into the building.
* * *
He finds Alyssa’s boots on the ground, aligned with one another. Both tips point to a belt made of vines. The spiraling plants pull his eyes upon a magenta chrysanthemum as the buckle.
Sliding the dagger from the sheath, his gaze follows the tip to the bottom of the hilt.
“What is this material?” Derek taps the blade against his appendage, sending a sensation equal to 100 needles. Maroon fluids ooze through torn skin.
Placing the opposing index finger on the wound, a cloud of smoke emits from the scar.
“Leather grip—lightweight,” he shifts his stare. “Scent of rosemary coming from the boots. The holster is lined with some metallic material. It sharpens the dagger whenever it runs against the lining?”
His feet scuttle, aiming at the belt. This leads to a folded tank top to match the boots’ tint. From the vest to a rolled skirt. Next, a bra. And toward a pair of jet-black underwear, which leads half of an ivory sphere the size of a car.
“What is it?” his fingers burrow into the grooved surface of the globe. He tugs upward.
“What in the name of Sekhemet?” Alyssa’s arms fold themselves across her chest. She crosses both legs over each other while floating on her back. Her eyes seal shut.
“What is this?” Derek’s vision shifts in every corner within the darkened ball. The aroma of an ocean fills the room. His peepers make their way to the jets regurgitating liquids at the bottom.
A blue light illuminates the innards, exposing Alyssa’s defined jawline.
Alyssa retreats one hand from her chest shield. Clenching a spray bottle, she squirts. Fluid trickle through her eyelids.
“Apparently, the first naked woman you’ve ever seen. At least according to your facial expression,” the girl moves the other hand. A breast the size of a half-eaten apple submerges.
“Be serious,” a coral tint fills his cheeks.
“It’s a sensory deprivation chamber. Meant to dull the senses. That way one can relax or meditate without the weight of tou
ch, sight, and sound. Only way I’m able to sleep these days.”
“Why’s that?”
“I’ve been alive for 621 years, witnessing tens of thousands of HESTEKS fall. Every day a lot of those souls creep into my thoughts and cry to me. Because either I took their lives, or I had a chance to save them and couldn’t. When I have time alone with my mind and am not in the right atmosphere, I tend to overthink—”
“Did you say 621 years old?”
“There’s a time and place for everything,” she takes a step from the pool. A patch of curled hair peeks from a hand shielding her legs.
She rolls her neck upward, looking up into his gaze. “Now is not the time for me to explain our plight to you.
“Moving on. Would you like for me to teach you the ways of the wise?”
“Yes, but first,” a half-grin transitions into a full.
“No,” one of her eyebrows arcs.
“I have a question,” he watches as her pupils dilate. “Why were you sleeping at nineteen hundred?”
“I sleep during the day.”
“New topic—Derek, answer a few questions. Are you willing to give up your belongings, both sentimental and not? Can you stray yourself from loved ones, family, and friends alike? Lastly, are you going to accept my teachings?”
A medley of scenes visualizes. One scene, him and Rainy eat Phở at a beachfront. Another of him typing I love you to someone through a text message. Followed by him and his former father roaming a desert while carrying a metal detector. In the end, one of Derek beside an S.U.V. while tapping a series of numbers into his phone.
“Yes, I accept it all.”
“Moreover, it’s dire that you quit smoking.”
“What?”
“You smell like an ashtray mixed with high-end cologne samples from Nordstorms and sweat. Literally, the first thing I noticed when I saw you at your dad’s.”
A cigarette appears between his fingers as he tucks it within both lips. Tapping the tip of his index finger on the top, the smoke forms a cherry as he puffs.
“What’s the purpose?”
“The sake of discipline, and for improving your overall health,” she thrust her arms against the pool. A liquid seeps into Derek’s eyelids. A burning sensation pulses through his face. “For lighting one up in my castle, jackass. Usually, I’d slit a wrist if someone did that. But since you had a loss, I’ll let it slide.”
“Mammoth cock!” Derek kneads his eyes. A cloud fills his lungs. His heavy coughs echo through the room.
The butt propels from his lips; he hurls his body at the ground.
A burst of mist bats his eyes. The biting feeling subsides. The alabaster blur transforms into a sharpened orb. Caramel tinted sticks pinch themselves against a wet cigarette.
“Lesson one, know your surroundings,” Many hacks transition to silence. “All I had to do was splash water, and you were down.
“If I had the right intent, you would’ve gone in one of the dumbest ways imaginable. By the way, you can sleep in here tonight.
“Strip those smelly ass rags you call clothes—”
Needlelike metal objects plunge into the skin encasing both of their necks.
Like a rag doll, Alyssa’s body collapses. Derek’s vision darkens as a silhouette of a hooded figure reaches a hand toward him.
* * *
Forms of Existence
A flash of light consumes the darkness, revealing towering pallid walls.
The stare shifts toward surgical knives. Edges lined with a crimson fluid; the blades rest on a table.
Sapphire eyes coated with pink veins dart across the metallic sheet. Following each blink, a different glass full of liquid bathing a myriad of tools appears.
A frigid breeze surges through the exposed hair throughout his body. Gaze transfers toward the machine the size of an ancient car above him. The flaps inside of the box-shaped device scroll alternate, emitting a faint hum.
Did Alyssa knock me out? Is this my first test of strength or something?
Two pale fingers burrow into his skull.
“You were a hard fish to catch.” A rasping voice reverberates through the room. “Yet, thanks to Zereh’s title in the HESTEK world as the ‘Master Baiter,’ I was able to reel two fish in one pond.”
Derek’s head drifts the source of the voice; a helmet with a mirrored coating fills his view.
“Alyssa?” his stare moves downward. Metallic belts tug against each side of his waist, wrists, and ankles. “What kind of test is this?”
Alyssa’s sensory deprivation chambers stream through the boy’s mind. Darkness overpowers his thoughts as a light shock rattles the core of his brain.
“Alyssa, the hell are you doing to me?”
“I’m behind you, Derek. It looks like we were kidnapped.”
The mirrored helmet places itself hand length away from his face. “Alyssa? What a familiar name. Anywho, the two of you are in diagnosis chamber A-fifteen, seven of the great lord, Yama’s, temple. Had to take extra precaution when bounding the two of you. Zeresh can’t let the two of you,” peeled nails taps the edge of Derek’s nose. “Boop away—”
“Subject A’s body temperature rising,” a modulated voice echoes. “338 point seventy-one Kelvin. 300—”
“A.I. override; mute,” flashing a syringe from his pocket; Zeresh presses the plunger. A blue fluid ejaculates from the needle. “Nervgifter, a neurotoxin. Upon injection, the prey will fall into a state of severe mental illness. Nothing but false thoughts of grotesque acts they’ve committed in the past. Picking away at their brain until they can’t handle it anymore.”
The tip of the thin metal stick aims at Alyssa, drooling sapphire juices. “Kapish?”
Derek’s fingers loosen. “F-fine.”
“Body temperature—normalizing,” the A.I. says.
“Oh shut your trap you mindless cunt!” Zeresh’s helmet rotates toward the ceiling.
“Zeresh thanks you for your cooperation,” the helmet’s visor exhibits Derek’s reflection. The cloaked figure’s appendages weave themselves into one of the knives. It appears over the boy’s chest. “In the name of Ajanda; I’m so excited! Worry not, Zeresh just wants to-to examine your organs. See if they differ from past prey—experiments—subjects—f-friends.”
Each side of the center of Derek’s breasts opens like a Thanksgiving turkey as the blade rakes across his skin.
A cobalt tinted aura engulfs Derek’s body. His retinas vanish.
All characters’ breaths transform into vapor. Cups and their juices throughout the tabletop solidifies. The knife liquefies. The syringe shatters within Zeresh’s hand. Metal belts morph into liquid.
The boy’s body bursts into ashes; having the appearance of confetti.
Zeresh flashes a sword from his table and swings. The chainsaw-like teeth tears through the dark streams of burnt flesh.
“I don’t care about those children,” whispers push through Zeresh’s lips. “Don’t care about the children—don’t—”
A massive heatwave brushes pulses through his pallid cloak.
Behind me.
Dancing once more; it slices through the air.
Appendages clamp the demon’s helmet and combust.
Zeresh’s head vanishes.
An ear-piercing howl echoes between the walls. The entirety of the character’s corpse disintegrates. It transforms into a liquid material.
He reappears beside Alyssa, an ash silhouette of the spherical helmet collapses. Millions of flakes trickle through the gaps between Derek’s fingers.
One of his gangling appendages caresses the centers of each belt bounding Alyssa’s body. They shatter.
The boy’s retina manifest. The aura dissipates. A warm breeze brushes the hairs on her arms.
“Derek, are you well?”
He already remembered?
“What did you just do?”
“What do you mean?” His inflating pupils drift to his package—they magnetize toward
the girl’s bare breasts. “W-why are we naked?”
They switch toward the table of icy cups. “Oh, yeah, he was cutting me open and suddenly, everything went blank. Like, I lost consciousness—”
The lights of the room blackout as a boom reverberates through their bodies. A tremble surges throughout the facility. Faint mahogany glimmers line the wall’s edges, leading to an open door.
“Alexander entering gate dee-one twenty-one.” a modulated masculine voice echoes. “Making his way into hallway A—send all personnel!”
Alyssa’s eyes scan the room. “Grab my hand and teleport us back to my castle!”
Derek’s trembling fingers grip hers. His skin reddens as thoughts darken. “No bueno.”
Should I tell him that he just teleported a couple of moments ago?
“Why can you not teleport?”
“Every time a thought goes through my head, I feel a weak shock scrambles my thoughts. Afterward, the visualization disappears before I can teleport,” eyes survey the doorway and the cinnabar glimmers leading to it. “What do we do?”
“First off, you could let go of my hand,” Derek’s grip crumbles. “Second, we need to find an armory. To equip ourselves and get some clothing on our backs. Third, you need to quit being a creepy ass horn dog. I understand that you’re under a lot of pressure; however, in the name of Sekhemet, control yourself!”
Derek’s stare gravitates toward the massive sword. An image of him struggling to lift the weapon from Rainy’s floor paints itself inside of his mind.
Eyes shift to Zeresh’s ivory hooded robe. “You can wear that.”
“I’ll pass; thanks, though,” Alyssa makes her way to the door.
“Wear it; I won’t let you get sick from streaking around this base. It’s cold as Ymir’s tits.”
“Once again, I will pass.”
A moist fur presses against the surface of her upper body. Shivers pulse through her spine and arms. Alyssa’s pupils dilate as she arcs her eyebrows. She faces Derek’s dark face as a toothless grin creeps across her face. “Fine. Derek.”