Emotionless: (Prototype: Zero book 1)

by Shaina Anastasi

  “Is this funny to you?”

  “Yes,” I admitted. The laughter was hurting so bad on the inside that I felt the stitches.

  I don’t recall laughing this much on the inside. It hurts my ribs, as the laughter stabbed and burned the places that I don’t mind burning. However, I want to know what a laugh feels like. The vibration of vocal chords, the pain with your jaw and cheekbones at that permanent laughing position as one double over, kick feet and struggle to compose oneself. My amusement on my face was nothing more but a harsh tweak of an eye, and the rest smoothed over as I stared at him as if I am bored. That is what Donte said when he and Nixon were wrestling in mid-air. It was amusing. If I didn’t find them funny, I wouldn’t have stood on the balcony while they were. Except I haven’t done it since because of Donte, not being harsh, said, ‘Eileen, if you’re bored, we can play a game you want to play.’ Blinking, I straightened up and walked inside. I didn’t bother with games or fun because everyone thought I wasn’t happy.

  Thwack!

  I gasped the slightest, flopped back on the ground and landed into a starfish. Cold, wet mushy snow on my face. Blinking rapidly, I stared up at Lawliet who was standing over the top of me with a wicked grin on his face. It left me dumbfounded.

  No one has ever thrown an object at me playfully. I fear this side to me, as I grabbed Lawliet’s hand and he pulled me up. I made a sneak attack. My other hand slammed into his face, and it happened. I noticed Lawliet. He wasn’t moving regularly. Eyelids into a blink slowed down, the turn of his face hasn’t registered surprise at my hand with a snowball that was touching his nose.

  With a step, back, I looked around. The snow that was falling rapidly, the wind that was howling was nothing more but a slight brush to the cheek. Jacko Lanterns were indeed slower as well. Everything so far besides me is in a strange slow-motion type of thing. What was it that sounded so similar? Gears of time popped in my head, a rune I read years ago, in one of the books but wasn’t interested in at the time. The complexity, even me now agrees that rune is out of my league, so what is happening isn’t logical to me who was standing in slowed time.

  “Your sneak attack is a little too slow if you stand there dazed,” a hand grabbed my arm, and I looked up at Lawliet. The snow in my hand dropped, and I looked at my surroundings. Everything suddenly feels cold. “Come on. Let’s go back inside.”

  “Ok.”

  He flickered a look down towards the ground and then back up at me. Breathing out deeply, almost annoyed, he grabbed my arm, tugged me towards him and lifted me up with ease onto his back.

  “You’re an idiot for leaving your shoes up at the tower. After I take you back to the motel, I will go grab them.”

  Lacing arms around his neck, I wrapped legs around the waist and placed my head on the side of his neck. He smelt like charcoal. His hair brushed around cheek in the wind, soft. It reminds me of Hopper's piggyback rides only warmer.

  A lot warmer.

  A lot different.

  Back inside the room, mute the whole way, Lawliet left, the vampire side of him out while I crawled in the bed with the book he gave me in my hands. Dragging fingers along it, I curled them around the cover and was about to open it when a sudden noise from outside caught my attention. It was the crunching of boots. Pressing my hand firmly on the front of the book, I leant towards the window that is over the top of the bedside table, a lamp that was flickering suspiciously. Moving the thin curtain aside, I peered out into the darkened white night and scanned the backwoods. Nothing. Only trees that were resembling curved claws, the moon above that was stretching the shadows while the wind made them look as if they are making snapping motions of trying to grasp onto them. Leaning further forward, almost pressed against the icy glass, soft heated breaths steamed up. When it started retracting, there was still nothing.

  I went back to the book and turned to a random page delicately. I was careful enough to peel the pages away from each other without letting it tear. The chapter I landed on was, ‘exchange’. And the headline peaked my interest immediately. Placing a finger on the first line, I read downwards.

  ‘Exchange is when a mage or Shapeshifter – however, it is near impossible for a shifter and will be explained in depth on pg:437 – was willing enough to put their body on the line for another. The mage or Shifter who creates, ‘Exchange’ will be the only one capable of doing so. It cannot be broken or resisted for it is their resolve and decision to send the wounds to themselves and heal the mage that was injured.

  ‘Exchange is a blood rune, and it has to be warm and fresh. There is not much needed for this rune. Only blood, bare skin and . . .’

  Again, there was a rustling of leaves that paused what I was reading to lean back outside and see what it was. Something was moving between the trees. They were fast. A blur I could barely see until they stopped a few dead trees away from my window. Orange eyes swirled and were watching me curiously before they stepped back into the darkness.

  It was a snow fox. They must be common along these parts of the land. It is quiet and peaceful out here.

  Curling up in the sheets, I hugged the book and fell to sleep almost similar to one of dissolving into the sheets and mattress.

  I woke in darkness. Not any type of darkness of night, but encased into a four-wall darkness with no windows, door with a crack of light or anything in that matter. The ground was cold hard brick with dust that was running against fingertips as I brushed them delicately together while I tried to make out how I got here.

  Veins, distressed, lit up and darkened silver eyes peered at me from right in front of my face. The chills ran up the spine, and the only thing I could do was stiffen as they stood and rattled the chains that were bound around the wrists. I jolted forward because my feet are bound by them also. Fingernails went from brushing against the ground to digging into them. Hitching a breath that came out shakily, legs twist until I rolled, flat on my belly with now chipped nails. I was being pulled viciously. The fear climbed up, and I wanted to scream, as the sound of the rattling chains clipped.

  “Activate,” the voice said. The low-pitched sound of a male.

  Blue light underneath me lit up, joint and stitched together into various veins of a rune that resembled a tree. The blue liquid moved, spread and there was a drumming vibration sound that hounded down on me as the liquid stopped on the outer ring and gradually filled up the activation circle. Knowing that I have to do something, I twisted back around, dragged myself to my ankles and grabbed hold of the lock. Fumbling with them, I realised the hands that are mine are smaller, and the veins that lit didn’t join with runes. I have no tattoos. My figure looked skinny, smaller and hair I realised tumbled down in soft curls, longer.

  Am I . . .

  The rune lit, intense high and encased me in blinding light. I know this rune. As it slowly twisted together and snapped into a shell. I had to learn it when I was younger, how dangerous it is. This rune, as thousands of tiny little runes lit up, I remembered it as clearly as the ‘death trap’. The most brutal death created by an evil mage who went mad with power and magic.

  Tiny needle spikes slowly seeped out of the thousands of runes and swirled to aim at me who sat in the centre. I forgot about the chains as I stared with awe and fear at the sharp splinter needles that drew at me.

  “All Zero must die,” he spoke with little emotion when the spikes slipped away from the runes and shot towards me.

  Not just yet. I thought, as my finger rose from the ground and a rune activated.

  The Gears of Time.

  Raising up instantly, I sat on a bed of wildflowers. Confused, nauseated from the nightmare, the sound of laughter cut through almost like a knife. Donte ran past, oblivious to me who was sitting here. Nixon was coming after him with his angered revenge stricken face. I remember this. Grandfather always used to take Isilies, Nixon, Donte and me to the park on the weekends. It was a ritual. When he was sick, Nixon and Donte would torment him until he gradually got up and wa
lked out with us, arm in arm.

  Isilies ran past afterwards, yellow spots on his face. Donte threw a potion at them both and turned them into deformed mage lizards. The leather tail joint to Isilies rear end violently flailed as he ran. If they were there, where were grandfather and me? Looking around, I noticed Hopper was watching them. However, he didn’t look like himself. He looked nervous, as his gloved hands held a phone firmly between his grasp. It looked as if he was impatiently waiting for a phone call while his eyes were glued on my brothers.

  Puffing cheeks, I turned around and nearly jolted out of my skin at Head Mage behind me. He held a staff, and it was beautiful wood staff that reminded me of a root. No stone, no special gems nor shine, it was a simple root staff that has the elegance of time rotting away at it.

  “It is so much lighter than your other memory.”

  “Memory?” I asked, confused.

  “I do apologise. I seemed to have jumped into your dreams while you were sleeping and sifted through memories while I was looking for you. It has been awhile since I used this staff. Forgot that it might be a little rusty with its magic.”

  “I don’t understand,” I admitted.

  “I could explain, but where would the fun of that be. Anyhow, this is where you were before I came in.”

  He slammed his staff on the ground, and my brothers turned to ash, surroundings wisped away from the sunlight, wildflowers and jumbling gym off in the distance. Hopper who was cradling the phone ended up being nothing more than dust in the wind until we settled into a large library with another me on the floor and was painting runes. A dull, lifeless expression as she was staring down as she worked.

  This pretty much sums up my dreams. Looking at it in this perspective, I find it to be rather pathetic and maybe should conjure up something else from now on.

  I pity myself.

  “You’re so predictable, Eileen.” Mika smiled and hopped up on a table. It wobbled, and the other me who was drawing stopped for a moment blinked and then went back to work as she rendered it imagination. “I have something important to talk to you about.”

  “Ok.”

  “A simple lot of questions and then I am on my way,” he said and I nodded softly. “Who were you with today, around 2:17 pm in the afternoon?” he asked.

  I can merely tell from the way he said it that he was serious. The set of his jaw, rigged, eyebrows lowered, eyes peering and the face of someone well beyond his years. These questions need to be answered honestly and with enough information to deem him satisfied.

  This is an interrogation.

  “Spenc,” I said, and his face hardened.

  “Were there any witnesses who can agree that you were with Spenc?” he asked, and I nodded twice, the bobbing of my head. “Did you see Rokk at all?” I shook my head, and he took a deep breath and then asked. “Lawliet. Did you see Lawliet between 1:30 pm to presumably I am estimating 2:30?”

  “No. I went to eat with Spenc, Charlie, Kent, Lollie and some of Spencer's soccer team.”

  “Were they with you the whole time?” he asked.

  “No. They said they went to the lake to skate.”

  “One more and I will let you sleep.”

  “Ok.”

  “When you saw Lawliet next, was he acting strange? Differently in a way than he normally would.”

  Glancing up, I tried to recall if Lawliet was acting any different to his usual self. He certainly was more open to conversation and nicer. Would that be what he was meaning? Lawliet opening up to let someone in? No, the questions beforehand were ones where he wanted to know. Was Lawliet acting strangely, as if he has done something he shouldn’t have done? That is what Head Mage was asking.

  “No,” I answered truthfully.

  His shoulders relaxed the slightest but his face still held together.

  “Thank you.”

  He lifted his staff, but I interrupted before he slammed it down.

  “That memory,” I murmured, and he leant forward, interested. “Do you know if something happened to me when I was younger?”

  “Eileen, this is something you should be asking your parents,” he said in honest, supportive tone teachers do when they know they can’t exactly tell me something. “Goodnight, Eileen.”

  He slammed the staff down, and my mind that was running for miles disintegrated into the spirit of the other me drawing, and I went back into my dreamlike state. Thinking about runes.

  Chapter 19.

  Eileen – Why are they here?

  When the next day rolled around, the harsh wind of last night died down, and the snowflakes were softly falling from the open sunlit sky. Not too bright that I could make out where the sun was, but bright enough that the snow looked as if it was shining its sickly glistened light.

  I yawned, rubbed my eyes and turned away from the window to see Lawliet who was evidently sprawled across his bed, arm over the edge and was diagonally sleeping comfortably.

  He woke when I got out of the shower. Rubbing towel through wet hair, I looked up to Lawliet buttoning his jacket up, the hood frilly and fluffy while the rest was smooth white leather. Walking out together, dabbling into a new profound friendship, we walked along the roads that are not used by cars. Mages don’t necessarily need them. The roads are more like walkways to us. Except at the end of the roadway, we shouldn’t see a bunch of teenage mages clustered together with no sense of knowing what is going on. They looked around curiously, and we stood far at the back and wondered why our whole school excursion was forming together into a great big ball. Lawliet stepped forward as I reached upon instinct, a thing I used to do with my brothers and even Hopper when they walked too fast. Cling to their sleeve. He didn’t seem bothered as we weaved through groups. Some, however, did give us death stares while others shuffled with fright out of our way. At the front, as the teenagers parted ways was the train. It wasn’t here early because this is our last day and we leave tomorrow. It was here because they’re cutting our excursion short.

  I don’t know why, but as the Head Mage swept his eyes around, he stalled on me for a second and a cold chill ran up my spine as he kept looking around. His voice was soft, reassuring that there wasn’t a particular reason that we were leaving. He didn’t say anything at all that should worry us. The school kids whined, complained as per usual. They reminded me of children who weren’t allowed a piece of candy after dinner. They mopped but obliged quickly enough as they settled into the train. Their bags floated in, packed and right behind them.

  Glancing at Lawliet, he did the same, and we walked until I was yanked back by Donte and Nixon. Lawliet walked forward and pretended that it was normal for my brothers to kidnap me and drag me to the back of the line, behind one of the shop walls. The bricks weren’t even so when they pinned me to it; my back went all lumpy with the uncomfortable rough texture of the grooved brick.

  “Where were you yesterday?” Donte demanded while he looked at his chipped fingernail.

  “With Spenc,” I answered truthfully.

  “You were never alone or where people couldn’t see you at all yesterday afternoon?” I shook my head, and Nixon relaxed his shoulders. “Good.”

  “Ok?” I murmured and inspected their faces.

  Why do they look so suspicious, as if they were the centre of a crime scene suspicious? I don’t like it, and I certainly do not like how they glanced at one another before they walked off. They were pretending they didn’t sneak off with me. Pretending that they never spoke to me at all. Pretending as if I don’t exist. A behaviour Donte and Nixon never portrayed. Never to me at least.

  I find that I am in a foreign place. As I rounded the corner, I blended in with everyone. Charlie found me first. She talked about ice-skating, one of the oblivious girls who thought Mika was only a jerk. Walking with her, she linked her arm with mine, and she spoke while I looked around. The blurred faces began to focus, Spenc looked at me, raised his hand in a wave and smiled shyly. He was probably embarrassed by what happened last n
ight. I looked away, and my eyes landed on Rebecca’s minions who were spewing on about manicures and bags under their eyes from the early morning wake. There was no Rebecca until I looked around on the other side of the group. Her arms were crossed, and she stepped forward, one heel was clicking dramatically at a time while she had her arms crossed, hands tucked under armpits and eyes narrowed in. Same as me. She didn’t believe Mika’s story. On the left side of Rebecca was Mrs Robertson. She was with a group of adult mages I have never seen before. No one found it suspicious, and that is when I knew the crystal barrier around them as they talked. Shimmering a darkened metallic silver, the more I focused on them, the less I could see. I peered at them when the figures vanished, and I had to blink rapidly to get them into focus. They were like static on a television screen. Focusing and unfocusing. Tuning in and out, I looked away and tried to make myself see clearer, but when I looked back, all of them, even Mrs Robertson was gone.

  Something most certainly happened here, and while my old self that wants to revert into her shell and go back to her room and hide amongst the forbidden books and read about runes, the adventurous me knows that I have to find out this. As well as the note my grandfather has given me to accomplish.

  I am beginning to dislike this new me.

  “My mistress, wake up. You’re going to be late for school!”

  Grabbing the blanket, I flung it over my head and exhaled deeply. It has been two days since we have been home. The first night I wanted to go up to our room, it was dark enough. As soon as we got out of the train, Lawliet had to meet his guardian, Mika.

  The next day, Lawliet wasn’t in class as well as yesterday. It felt empty being in a classroom all by myself, so I walked around without knowing what to do now that he wasn’t there. The cafeteria was as bad. Sitting around Charlie, the obnoxious friend who was over dramatic made me nauseated. It seems she has a crush on someone and simply won’t be quiet about him. Lollie is where she was before the excursion, with Kent. Trying, always trying. Rebecca hasn’t been seen, not since she got on the train and my brothers have been quiet. No pranks, nothing. It has been presumably quiet. As if I am waiting for something drastic to happen. I tiptoe around as well as If I am expecting a bomb to detonate.