Emotionless: (Prototype: Zero book 1)

by Shaina Anastasi

  Pushing the plate away, I decided to leave the apartment. Having Eileen sick again tends to get me thinking about the past.

  “What tricks are we playing today?” I asked Donte as he stared at his plate. Bacon and eggs are untouched. “Aye, Donte,” I kicked the leg of his chair, and he dragged eyes towards me and grinned. He was trying to remove himself from the funk. “We should do something fun.”

  “Yeah,” he grinned, instantly knowing what I was talking about. “In the library?” I asked, and he nodded. “Who will be our victim?”

  “Please, masters. Now is not the time to be getting yourself into trouble.”

  “Yes, listen to the rabbit for once,” Isilies, said as he rushed around grabbing things. He slept in for the first time since birth I believe. Never a tardy.

  “Now is a perfect time, don’t you think?” Donte and I said at the same time. Broadened grins stretched on our faces, as we imagined all the cruel, vindictive things we can do to these stupid Lowborn mages.

  “Do it then. I can’t wait for Mum and Dad to look at you both with that disapproval signature glare of theirs,” he said cruelly before slamming the door behind him.

  He is pissed off, but I don’t care, I never have. Isilies will always try to be the voice of reason with that hidden motive of pushing us over the edge so he could laugh at us when we get in trouble. Figured the best type of torment was to get ourselves out of trouble and rub it in his face. Two hundred and forty-seven days was my bet when he cracks it. I am beginning to believe that it is a losing number. He will lose it before then, and if Donte wins, he will probably ask Eileen as to what punishment I will have to undertake. Knowing her, it will be peanut butter sandwiches. She always tells me but never watches. Unlike when she was younger, a complete replica of Donte and I. She doesn’t find ‘laughing at someone’s pain’ exciting. If she were awake, she would more than likely be located in the tower with Lawliet, and Donte and I will be preoccupying ourselves by tormenting mages we don’t like or have said something bad about your family.

  It is fun.

  “Ready to go?” I asked something I never do but seeing Donte fade out and into his own world, it was the only way to snap him out.

  “Before you leave, Masters, may I ask what happened to Eileen’s pendant?”

  “Huh?” We both tilted our heads. “She has a necklace?”

  “Doesn’t she have it on?” Isilies asked.

  “No. Perhaps she lost it underground. I may need to call a friend of mine.”

  “You have friends outside of our family?” I feigned shock. “Unforgivable. You are only allowed to have us!”

  “How unkindly.”

  “We are leaving now. Donte?”

  “I will meet you in class. I am going to stay here a little bit longer,” he said. The guilt of pushing me away was not as prominent as his worry over our baby sister.

  Hardening eyes ever the slightest, I nodded, twitched a small smile and watched him stand and walk back into her room.

  I pity Donte when it comes to Eileen. He is a sook when it comes to her. He is protective as well as ‘do whatever she tells him’ to do. I doubt he knows what to do with himself now that she has Lawliet. It is like looking at a headless chicken that has launched himself into a frontal attack of disarray without knowing which way is forward, if that makes any sense, that is Donte. Why do I go along with it, because unlike what people see, looking at me as if I am the follower or puppet while Donte the strings?

  NOT TRUE . . .

  Ok, partially right. I am a fucktard. Half the time, I don’t even know what I am getting myself into until I figured out that what I have gotten myself into is the polar opposite of what I expected it to turn out to be. That is when I follow Donte’s lead. Lately, we haven’t been working as a team. I suppose it all comes down to guilt from the past. I know what is happening and have to steer Donte away and preoccupy him with what we like to do best before he blurts whatever guilt he’s bottling up inside.

  I am the mad doctor pumping adrenaline and electric charge into Donte. I am the strings, Donte my puppet. I make others think he has control to make him believe he has control, so his mind doesn’t wander back to her. Sadly, I guess he is figuring it out and was pushing towards his guilt for hiding such a secret from our baby sister.

  Suppose I should feel sorry for keeping Eileen’s memories from that tormenting time away from her as well as her emotions. I don’t. It is for her own good. If she knew how she acted before the incident, I doubt she would be the girl she is now. As detached as she is, she doesn’t have depression knowing how she used to be. No other emotions that would have flooded in or nightmares. Mum and Dad may look as if they don’t care, but what they do to keep us safe is for the best. Unfortunately, someone was trying to break Eileen. For some sick twisted reason, someone has opened up the door that was locked, and let her roam into her inner mind so that she could relive what she has lost. I doubt Eileen would have stolen the memory potion from my room. However, it had happened before when her memories were coming back naturally. She got sick. Her body was not handling it, Mum and Dad stepped in and erased it all. After a week, she woke without remembering anything of that experience.

  There’s no point thinking about it, when I know Mum and Dad will come back, Eileen will have her mind erased again, and we will be back to step one. It will be a surprise if she will even remember Lawliet. It may be a good thing for him. He won’t be tied down, and he can go back to whatever he was doing before he met Eileen. She won’t find him attractive. She won’t find anything interesting. She probably won’t even wake with a flicker of emotion inside.

  Why am I even thinking about it? Thinking doesn’t get me anywhere. Watching Donte beg her to wake before Mum and Dad get here won’t change anything. I am lucky to even to get him out of the apartment.

  Ugh, I need to do something productive before my head explodes.

  Opening the door and gradually going down the steep steps, I looked at the time and noticed there was half an hour before class begins. Not hungry, I steered away from the cafeteria. All I need is for others to question why Donte isn’t with Eileen or me. Heh, since when has anyone asked where she is. She doesn’t exist unless they openly see her. Since Rebecca became friends with her at the school, she has become non-existent. No, that isn’t it. Since Rokk went missing, no one notices her, talks about her and even Lawliet now the hype of him being a suspect died down. School so far - before yesterday’s incident – started to feel similar to a school. Besides running around, hiding things and questioning Rokk’s murder, I started to feel a little more at home with my surroundings and with some Lowborn mages.

  Rounding the corner near the girl’s dorms, I bumped into a girl, her eyes widened, and her hands clutched air with a distraught look on her face. Lowering my hand, I caught the stone before it could shatter on the ground and straightened up.

  “Hand over the scented Crystal, senior,” she demanded as she raised her hand and narrowed her eyes further.

  Grinning broadly, I took a glance at the crystal and said, “No. Why would I do that?”

  “Because it is mine and I need it for class!” she shouted. Her face turned a bright red that amused me and wanted me to torment her further.

  “Are you going to tell them that you didn’t make it?” I asked, and her eyes widened and showed bright blue irises. “I know my sister’s creation anywhere. She has a unique style.”

  “Ugh, shit,” she slumped shoulders. “Well, it was her fault for letting me steal it.”

  Let her steal it. As I tried making sense of what the fuck she said, my name was called, and I turned to see whom it was when the crystal was removed from my hands, and she ran away with a grin on her face. Ah, I guess that is what letting someone steal something is. I wonder if I can get someone to let me steal something. It sounds fun, and I wondered if Donte would be up for a little sense of thievery again.

  “HEY!” the annoying wailing shout of Charlie echoed r
ight in my ear. Seriously, she is right in my ear and was yelling ‘hey’. “What are you doing near the girls’ dorms? Peeping I see,” she smirked.

  “Aye, a man has got to do what a man has got to do. I must warn you not to shower. I tainted the water so unless you want to look like a green golem. I suggest you skip.”

  “Where would you be able to get golem slime? They hide in sewage pipes, don’t they?”

  “Happened to be one under my stairs at home,” I replied but skipped the fact that I was petrified of the thing and got Donte to get it instead.

  “Nice,” she grinned. “Speaking of Donte. Are you Donte or Nixon?”

  “I am Nixon, you idiot. Why do you want Donte?”

  “Well,” Charlie raised her hand and started walking, and I was a step behind her. “You would know if he likes someone, right?”

  Heh, of course, I would know. We’re inseparable twins for one, as well as a rule 14.

  “Aye.”

  “Do you think he will say yes if I ask him out?”

  “Ha-ha!” a burst of laughter erupted out of my mouth, and I knew she was getting angry as her eyes narrowed into tiny pissed off slits. “Unless I create a love potion, you wouldn’t have a chance. Charlie, you won’t cut it. You aren’t Donte’s type.”

  “Well, what is his type? I am like a chameleon. I can change!”

  Dear naïve psychotically deranged Lowborn. You would have to go make Donte incredibly deaf for him to consider being with a loud mouth like you.

  “Change all you want, the answer is no,” I said airily.

  “Wait, what?”

  “You have been hanging with us for a while now. You should know that I am really Donte.”

  “Are you?”

  Shrugging, I answered, “Who knows.”

  Sometimes I don’t even know.

  Chapter 31.

  Hopper – How I met my mistress.

  “Of course, Masters. However, if I can voice my concerns about –”

  “Has her condition changed since we last spoke?” Lady of the house asked.

  “No, Mistress,” I said in a small voice.

  “Then she can wait. We have a mission that is ending. We need critical answers. If her condition changes, call. Other than that, stay there until we come back. It would presumably be around midnight tonight.”

  “Of course, Master’s,” I obliged as I clutched the phone tightly within my grasp. “As you command,” and the phone beeped, as they hung up.

  Lowering my hand, I placed the phone on the countertop and removed my eyes from the mess from breakfast on the bench and to the hallway where my Mistress was sleeping soundly. Her heartbeat eradicated every nine to twelve seconds. It was sending me into a jump scare, however, other than that on the outside she looked peaceful. It worries me. My Mistress shouldn’t be in a bed wounded. When she wakes, I will do everything she asks, even if they’re the smallest of tasks to the highest, I will do as she commands. I always do, for she is the only one that doesn’t look at me as if I am a household pet to use. My Mistress has made me a part of this family. I will always oblige to her every command, even if it sends me away.

  Boiling water in the kettle, I washed the plates, cleaned the counter with non-chemical spray and wipe, fixed the light, and made herbal tea. Exhaling a shaky breath, I opened my Mistress’s door cheerfully and sat on the chair. I placed the cup and saucer on the bedside table. The steam rose, heated the glass window behind it and created swirls of it throughout the glass portion above. Placing gloved hands on lap, I stared intently at her face, as she peacefully slept. There were no lines of worry, not as if she could express such emotion. Flawless and doll-like. I first met her when she was only a toddler. My old Master, Gospel Frost signed me over once he found out his daughter had triplets. I felt abandoned. Gospel was my very first master. He took me away from slavery. My old master first ever showed me what friendship was. I idolised him. He saved me and then abandoned me to protect his grandchildren.

  Throughout my years with Gospel, I had realised I do not like children. The very thought of them touching things they shouldn’t frighten me. They are dangerous beings. First meeting the triplets confirmed it. Gospel walked in aware of his surroundings while I have not any type of idea what I was stepping in. The home was large, as expected from a family who works for the organisation. Very clinical and modern. It wasn’t inviting. There was nothing that resembled a family home. It looked too new. Almost like no one has ever lived here.

  “Ah, Isilies, where are your parents?”

  After the short brief look around at my new home entrance, I noticed Gospel crouched before a small child, around the age of eight. This must be Isilies Frost, the eldest of the siblings. Usually, before meeting a new family, I get gathered documents from the parents, descriptions of what they look like, what appeals to them and hobbies, so I have a distinct advantage and levelled understanding. However, when Gospel handed them to me, they were paper thin, and all it had written was his age, description of what he looked like and hobby, crystal work. It somewhat similarly looked as if writing it down was a struggle to do.

  Isilies, one of my new masters, shrugged and gave a disappointed look.

  “Eileen went missing again, Donte won’t stop crying about it, and Nixon is drinking dishwashing liquid,” he mumbled and then walked off. He barely gave me a glance as he had done so.

  This is why I do not like children.

  “What an adventurous day already,” Gospel chirped. It made me smile. Old master always had a way of viewing positives out of the negative. “You find Eileen while I tend to the boys.”

  “Of course, Master,” I nodded and watched him walk off.

  Eileen? The girl. Two and a half, no description out of all of them. Not even her looks, however, Gospel told me about the triplets, saying that she looked like porcelain, so he had mistaken her for a doll. I suppose she would have the same colour hair as Nixon and Donte would. Brownish gold with silver eyes and somewhat pale looking skin.

  With no description, this search was going to be lacking on my side. Roaming around, I ended in a room that looked like the living area that was across from the kitchen. Slipping shoes off, I entered the white room. I looked under the coffee table, behind television unit as well as under them. I don’t really know why but I tried to look in every gap possible. Not in the living room, I walked out to notice old master was washing a dirty boy’s face while the other one clung to Gospel and was crying. They will be my new masters soon.

  On the ground floor had a sign on a door that says, ‘library’. Shaking the handles, they wouldn’t budge. Looking around, I went up the stairs and down the hallway. I opened doors that I could to look around. Master bedroom, empty. No photos, barely any clothes in the closet and no speck of dust. It was immaculate and unused. Closing the door, I noticed another hallway. One door was open, and Isilies was sitting on a steel table. There were chips of crystal flakes on the bench top he worked on. I stayed a moment longer to watch the work of a high-born, and when I went to look for Eileen again, he spoke.

  “You won’t last,” he said and then looked up. “They never do.”

  “Who Is . . . my master,” I corrected myself, unfamiliar with saying it other than to Gospel Frost.

  “Seven ordinary maids and fourteen shape-shifters since Donte, Nixon and baby Eileen. They never last the month.” His eyes narrowed as he said, “I am the only one who can take care of them when Mum and Dad are away.”

  “Yet Nixon was drinking toxic, Donte was crying, and Eileen is missing. Wouldn’t a helping hand be better?”

  “Why would I grow attached to someone who will leave us,” he turned in his chair, breathed an exhausted sigh and said; “She’s in the library.”

  For some strange reason, he sounds almost like an adult. It makes me wonder. How long has this child been taking care of three two-year-old on his own for when his parents were gone?

  “Thank you, Master,” I said, turned, and noticed a
door slightly open. There was an orange light flickering inside.

  Opening the door inwards, I peeped in and admired the beautiful texture of the two-story library. Mountains of books wall to wall, some stacked on the ground and a few odd ones on the spiral staircase that led down to the glowing orange light that was illuminating the ground floor. Down the stairs, there was a fort of books and settling on top of the stack was a small orb of light that was bobbing in the air. And crouched beside the books, legs tucked up and was in an upright fettle position was a little toddler. Old master was right. If she did not move, she would resemble a glass doll. As she blinked slowly, absorbed in a picture book, her hair fell almost into a curtain. I smiled, as it must have irritated her because she kept curling the loose hair behind her ear.

  “Hello,” she whispered. Her eyes removed away from the pages of the book and up to where I was standing. Her lashes fluttered down, and she watched me intently as I kneeled a few feet away from her. Then suddenly, her expression changed from passive to awe? Silver eyes widened, and she made a small o shape with her mouth. She wasn’t looking directly at me, more like above me. “So, fluffy!”

  “My . . . Master!” she launched at me before I could ask if it was my ears. She surprised me and based on instincts accidentally called her master. As her fingers rubbed my ears that were out to track her down, she gleamed. A broadened grin ear-to-ear.

  “Fluffy, fluffy, fluffy bunny. Fluffy, fluffy, hop, hop, hop,” she chanted as she patted my ears. “I am hungry. Dragon eggs, please!” she swooned.

  Softening expression, I said, “Whatever you want, my Mistress.”

  “Do you remember how we met, my Mistress?” I said warmly, “Probably not.” teacup clutched in both hands. “While everyone merely thought of me as a Mongrel, butler or house pet, you made me believe I was so much more over the years. You’ve opened my eyes and made me realise that not all mages treat shape-shifter's as servants and unfairly. As you have never given up on me, I will not give up on you so please, my Mistress, wake up. Wake up and return to me so I can take care of you. I don’t care if I will be erased for the second time and starting our friendship anew. Just wake up.” Hands gripped the teacup, and a droplet wavered the warm liquid inside. Gritting teeth, I closed eyes and released the despair, as I cried beside my Mistress’s bed. I was begging her to return to me.